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evielmostdefinitely · 5 months

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cold tonight |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: coriolanus has been neglecting you, busy with the games and his new leadership. you decide to be bold to get his attention.

contains: 18+ smut. dom/sub themes (yes it's snow but everything is consensual). established relationship. spanking. orgasm denial. cum play ??? kinda, creampie, pinvsex. possessive and dark-ish snow.

“Pardon me,” Your spine stiffened, nearly crushing the crystal champagne flute in your hand. You couldn’t see him, but you felt him, lingering behind you, a looming presence; Coriolanus.

“I apologize for interrupting, ladies.” Coriolanus’ manners were impeccable, even through his fury. “I need to borrow my wife.” His hand was on your waist, an affectionate motion to the outside, but you knew better. You knew with the way his grip tightened, the sharpness of his tone, your actions from before hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Coriolanus had been so terribly uptight for weeks- preparations for the games, you assumed. It was his first year as President hosting the games. He’d been neglecting you, too consumed with his own work. It had been weeks since he touched you, except the quick kiss goodbye in the morning, and you were beyond pent up. He seemed more relaxed tonight. The reaping was tomorrow, everything in place and ready to go for the tributes, for the sponsors.

It seemed harmless, really.

Coriolanus had started it. Kissing you in the car ride over here, his hand gripping your thigh under your dress, hand on the back of your neck, yanking at the loose hairs there- teasing. It hadn’t gone any further. The car pulled up, Coriolanus wiping your lipstick from his face, offering a hand to you when you slid out of the car. You knew you looked flushed in the photos, and you were.

You went to the restroom, excusing yourself to reapply your makeup, compose yourself. The idea was… scandalous, you supposed. Definitely improper, your mother would faint if she knew you were acting like such a harlot, in public, no less. Still, the idea was thrilling.

You slipped your tiny, lacy undergarments off, balling them in your gloved hand. “Corio,” You called sweetly, tone drenched in honey, warm and inviting. He excused himself, lured into your entice.

“Yes, my love?”

“You dropped these.” You whispered, hoping the flush across your face, your collarbones and creeping up your neck, didn’t give you away. A shaking hand grabbed his, shoving the underwear into his own palm.

Coriolanus frowned, lifting his hand to see what you put in it, only for you to quickly press it back down. “Don’t.” You shook your head, eyes darting around. “They’re just for you only.” You whispered, eyes batting towards him in a way that had his heart lurching with excitement.

Coriolanus moved, turned into a corner, opening his hand. He blushed a deep crimson when he saw your panties, slightly damp at the crotch- he assumed from the excitement of the car ride. He had to stop himself from bringing them to his nose, inhaling that intoxicating scent that was unapologetically yours. Instead, he balled the garments into his pocket, shooting you an icy glare from across the room.

You blushed, eyes batting towards him, turning back to your conversation with a sponsor. Oh, he had half a mind to take you to the middle of the room, embarrass you for being so defiant and bratty- so needy. Too bad for him that he’d grown to adore it so much. It only made punishing you more exciting.

Now, Coriolanus had managed to break away, after a night of feeling the mocking garment in his pocket, taunting him, pulling his mind from droning conversations with the Capitol's finest. His arm on yours, pulling you away from the party.

“Corio,” Your heeled steps echoed down the empty hallway. “We can’t be gone for too long. They’ll notice you’re missing and-”

“-They’ll be fine.” Corio hissed, fingertips pressing into your biceps. He found a closet, filled with cleaning supplies for the servants of the hall, pulling you in with him, locking the door behind.

You felt small under his gaze, shrinking back until you were pressed against the shelving. “Do you think this is a game?” Coriolanus’ eyes narrowed towards you, a menacing step forward in the small space that had you pressing further into the shelves. “Do you know how highly inappropriate that was? If someone would have saw you-”

“-No one saw me, Corio.” You mumbled, arms crossing over your chest. You had meant for it to upset him, not really. Only rile him up so it might excite him. “I was careful.”

“Careful?” Corio scoffed. “You were down right sloppy, my love. Acting no better than the hookers in District One-”

“-Corio!-”

“-Perhaps I should just drop you off there.” Coriolanus looked down at you, eyes sliding over your frame. “You’d be dressed accordingly.” He stepped forward, trapping you under his steely gaze. “No panties. You’re filthy.”

You blushed, turning away but his hand caught your chin, bringing you back to meet his gaze. “You’re out of line. Disrupting the peace.”

“What can I say? I’m a rebel.” You sneered, biting and challenging.

“You’ll watch how you speak to me.” Coriolanus snapped, grip tightening around your jaw. “You know better. You do not use that word around me. Do you understand?”

“Yes…” You whispered, eyes downcast. You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his icy glare , so harsh, domineering.

“Look at me when you’re speaking to me.” Coriolanus growled, face mere inches from your own. Your tummy flipped with heat, eyes cutting to him for a moment before snapping back down.

Coriolanus’ jaw tightened, lips pursed in displeasure. “You’re not feeling very obedient tonight, are you?” He sighed dramatically. “I’ll fix that.” His hand left your jaw, stepping back, shedding his coat in the small space of the closet.

You watched him carefully, hands still clasped in front of you, eyes trekking his movements. Coriolanus looked at you, hanging his jacket over the door knob. “Go on. Lift the dress and bend over, grab the shelf.” Your stomach erupted in butterflies, nervous and excited heat coursing through your veins.

“W-What?”

“You need to be punished. I would wait until we got home, but I can not trust you to not misbehave any further.” Corio sighed heavily, disappointed, rolling the sleeves of his shirt. He was so quick to step into this role, a flick of a switch and he was so easily domineering over you. It made you throb, thighs pressing together.

“Corio,” You whispered, as if anyone was around. “Not here. I-I’ll be good, I’m sorry. I was just playing.”

“Playing?” Coriolanus challenged, brows lifting. “You thought this was the appropriate place to play?”

“N-No, I just-”

“-You what?” Corio snapped, a ghosting of a scoff on his tone. “You acted inappropriately and you will be punished. You know my rules. You know what I expect of you, how you’re supposed to behave.” You blushed, knees tightening at the authority in his voice.

He knew it got you flustered, knew you were probably dripping down your thigh already. It was exactly why he did it.

“Now bend over before I have to ask you again. You know better. Do not make me get creative in here, darling. I might not have my usual devices, but I will find something in here that will substitute the cane if I have to.” Corio frowned, the threat leaving you shuddering, quickly turning around. There was nothing you hated more than the cane, Corio knew that. He’d only used it twice on you, once to try, the other when you’d screamed at him at University.

You lifted the silk material of your dress slowly, bare skin covered with chills with every inch of skin exposed. Corio’s tongue slid across his bottom lip, eyes drawn to your drooling lips between your legs, puffy with excitement. How he’d missed them, missed you.

You leaned forward, shaky hands grabbing onto the shelf of cleaning supplies, bent at the waist and presented for him. “Hm, so you can follow orders?” Coriolanus hummed, hand gliding teasingly over the globes of your ass. “When you want to.”

You didn’t answer, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs matching the beating in your chest. Coriolanus moved beside you, pulling you close into his hip. “I don’t have long, and I didn’t intend to have to punish you.” He snapped, chastising and mean. You whimpered beneath closed lips. “Twenty with my hand. I don’t need you to count, but you better keep quiet, do you understand?”

You took a deep breath in, stilling yourself. Corio’s palm fell flat against your ass, sharp and stinging, leaving you gasping with surprise. “I said, do you understand?” Corio sneered. He despised repeating himself, you knew that. You were extremely bratty, in a way you hadn’t been since you and Corio first started playing years ago, when you were first dating. He loved how he’d broken you, got you to submit entirely to him, be his good, obedient girl.

“Y-Yes, Corio.” You nodded gently, voice meek and quiet. “I understand.”

“Good.” Coriolanus snapped, squeezing your right cheek firmly. You squirmed under his touch.

His hand rose, falling just as quick on your right cheek, the fading imprint left behind on your skin before he repeated on the other. You bit at your lip, nails digging into the wood of the shelf with each passing snap.

The walls muffled the sound and thankfully your tiny squeals of surprise. One particularly hard smack had you jumping, Corio’s hand pressing you back into position. “Stay.” He hissed. You were throbbing, a slick and sticky mess of desire by the time Coriolanus was finishing.

Two final smacks, the hardest of all, had tears pricking your vision. Your bottom stung, itchy with a burn you were desperate to rub out. You expected more, expected it harder. Coriolanus had gone easy on you.

You felt him press against your burning ass, and you knew why. His erection stiff in his trousers, flush against your reddened ass cheek. “Have you learned your lesson?” Corio rasped, the same hand he’d spanked you with now rubbing down your spine in a soothing, calming manner. You shuddered excitedly under his touch.

“Yes, Corio.” You whispered, turning to look back at him over your shoulder, hoping your batting eyes would lure him to touch you, lick you even.

“Hm,” Corio hummed, unbuttoning his trousers. “I’m not sure I’m convinced, but,” He pulled out his length, leaking from the reddened head of his cock already. Your mouth pooled with spit, desperate for a taste. “I need to do something about this.” He nodded towards his erection, stroking it slowly.

“Can’t go out there. I’ll look just as desperate as you, then what will they say, hm?” Coriolanus rubbed the head of his cock through your folds, free hand pressing on the small of your spine. “The Snow’s, a bunch of needy whores. Can’t have that, now can we, love?”

You shook your head, eyes glassy and glazed with desire and the threat of tears from before. Corio grinned, toothy and salacious, pushing into you slowly, without warning. You gasped, biting at the back of your hand. The stretch was burning from the absence, eyes rolling back in pleasure at how he filled you.

You missed him, missed this feeling more than words could describe. His cock splitting you with every slow, quickening roll of his hips. Fingertips sunk into your hips as he rutted into you.

“You’ll be good f’me now? Be my good girl? I know you can be. Be good to me, and I’ll be good to you later, I promise, my love.” Corio rasped, breath hot in your ear, folded over your back, buried so deep in your pussy you were sure you were seeing stars.

You were close, orgasm pulling the coil in your belly tighter and tighter with every thrust of his hips. The way he fucked himself into you, hard and fast and little sloppy, breathy whines of moans pressed into your bare shoulder, trying to muffle your favorite melody. You whined, head tipping back towards him, neck exposed out of habit.

Then Corio grunted. His hips flush to yours, stilling, hot spurts of warmth filling your cunt. You gasped, gripping at the shelf like it was your orgasm, dwindling away just as furiously as it came. Coriolanus’ chest heaved, breath shaky, pupils blown when they met yours.

You gaped at him, watching as he grabbed the panties from his jacket. You knew he would be quick, it had been a while after all, but Corio always let you cum first.

Unless…

“Don’t give me that look.” Corio scoffed, a taunting smirk pulling at his lips. “You didn’t really think I’d reward you? After you were so bad?”

You blinked, lip quivering lightly. His thumb pressed to it, shaking his head. “No, no, no, there will be none of that.” He commanded. “You didn’t earn it, this time.” He dropped to his knees, wrapping one hand around your ankle, lifting it so you stepped into your panties.

“You can still earn one later,” Corio continued, eyes bright with wicked excitement, like when he was watching the games- watching his torturous ideas come to life. You hissed at the lacy fabric, rough against the sensitive skin of your ass. “If you’re good.” His pillowy lips pressed a soft kiss to each of your reddened cheeks, pulling down the material of your dress.

“Corio, I-I,” Your legs pressed together, feeling his release move as you stood, threatening to spill out of you. “I can’t keep this in me all night-”

“-You can.” Coriolanus nodded firmly, lifting his own pants. “And you will.” His eyes darkened at the order, eyes never leaving yours as he fastened his own pants back. “You will keep every single drop in and maybe- maybe I’ll reward you when we get home.”

Your pussy ached, clenching at the thought, feeling his seed spill into the thin materials of your panties. Corio grinned wickedly, smoothing down his hair before unlocking the door. He checked the hall before stepping out, offering his arm to you. You clung onto the silk of his shirt like a lifeline, legs a little unsteady and shaking still.

“If you’re good. If you follow all my rules,” Coriolanus nodded to the guard, letting them open the door for the two of you, sauntering back into the party. “I might eat it out of you later.”

“Corio,” You hissed, blushing, ducking your head towards him to hide your flustered smile.

The entire night, you clung to Coriolanus, his prized possession wrapped on his arm, on display for all of Panem’s elite to see. His good girl, his obedient wife. One who smiled politely, made small talk about the weather and the games, sipped on her champagne and didn’t get sloppily drunk like the Stillwells’ wife. Everyone waved off the glassy gaze in your eyes as affection, your matching flush for the honeymoon phase still going strong.

And they weren’t entirely wrong.

That night, Coriolanus was true to his word. Your legs up in the air, his face between your thighs, pulling every filthy sound possible from you until the early hours of the morning. You could barely walk the next morning, sore and shaky legs, shifting in your seat during the reaping, all while Corio wore a smug smile.

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frillsand · 6 months

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What inspired you to create the actor Wally? Was it in a person or character?

I'm sorry if this question has already been asked, by the way he's incredible, a big hug for him🫂🎀

Hmm, I had to think back to late March for this.

I don’t know what I was thinking then but I knew I wanted him to have the same personality as Darla Dimple for entertainment reasons

I thought the idea of Wally secretly being a harsh person very interesting, something his character obviously doesn’t do.

I wanted somebody condescending while still being capable of caring for those close to him

Wally unapologetically makes himself a priority because you can’t help anyone if you can’t help yourself and putting yourself first doesn’t make you selfish.

His character is supposed to be evil and self preserving but thats hard to do when his life goal was to entertain and educate children and live comfortably with his friends forever. I made him with the intent of making people dislike him, but obviously it only worked a bit

I don’t know, I just wanted see his character put himself first and how people can change with each experience of life, for better or for worse.

A lot of his character was made as I kept going and I tried to accomplish some world building, of course, to but writing has never been my thing. The reason this au was started, was to satisfy my need for character analysis, only because I loved the characters so much but we hardly knew anything about them.

I don’t know where I’m going with this byeee

#wally darling #welcome home puppet show #welcome home actor au #welcome home #wally actor au #diva wally #actor au #actor wally darling #welcome home au #wally darling au

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adrinktostopyourthirst · 2 months

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incoming smutty thoughts:

the other night i had a dream i asked something like “how come you always tell me to talk and you rarely do?” and he replied “i like your voice more.” so we know bucky is the “ask for what you want type,” but do you think he’s more or less verbal than her in bed? he’s generally quiet, do you think maybe that leads to him talking dirty more?

Oh, I love this, because I do often write about him dirty talking.

I think we all know that Bucky only speaks when he absolutely has to and even then, it's usually something sarcastic or cynical. Also, Bucky isn’t the best with words. Yes, he can lie and manipulate well, but most of that is body language and perception. It’s fascinating how few words he has to utilise to get what he wants. His skill is mainly in listening and observing and most people know this about him, so they let him.

Just as most people have the good sense to be somewhat on their guard around him, especially when Bucky doesn’t bother to be sly about keeping a close eye on everyone and everything. But he has never really been able to unnerve you. Or… Maybe he has, but it only made you talk more. You share unapologetically and you ramble and you show most of your emotions. At first, he thought it was foolish to be so open and vulnerable. Now, he can see it has probably saved your life (and others’ lives) more times than he can count. With you living, speaking and feeling so out in the open, he doesn’t have to pay so much attention to you.

And yet…

The man cannot stop himself from paying attention to anything other than you. Everything else just kind of blurs. It mostly amuses everyone around Bucky how distracted he gets. They pull petty little pranks when he isn’t paying attention. And they fail awkwardly, because Bucky might be smitten, but he’s still a trained soldier.

So yes, Bucky is quiet and you’ve always known that about him. You expected him to be more quiet in bed, too. But he has learned that he loves how responsive you are and it just so happens that you get more responsive when he speaks to you. When Bucky has his tongue buried between your legs or his cock hitting your cervix, he usually grounds you by splaying a wide palm over your back, or thigh, or tummy. However, Bucky has found he likes the way you shudder when he mumbles against your neck or the shell of your ear. He likes how you can only respond with a soft mewl when he uses his voice.

Sometimes he asks you a question and then drives his cock into you with a thorough thrust at the end, making you writhe under him and choke on air. Then he nuzzles his nose over your pulse with a soft laugh. “Who’s the quiet one now, huh?”

You want to answer him, you do, but fuck– his fingers are at your clit and his teeth bite into your collar bone and he’s moaning and– and– Oh God… But he talks you through it. Every step of the way. Teasing. Coaxing. Soothing. Praising.

“That’s the spot.”

“Look at you,” when your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Hug me tighter, sweetheart,” he’ll groan when you clench around him tightly. “Fuck. Good girl.”

“That’s my girl,” when you come. And the sounds you make - that will have him nearly go blind with pleasure. “There you go. Keep coming for me.”

#answered #drabble #writing #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #oh oops #hope you enjoy it

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eyesofshinigami · 2 months

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Boyfriend Privileges

Rating: T

CW: None

Tags: Just getting together, language, fluff

Prompt: For @sparklyslug "Love is letting him pick the music"

WC: 959

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 21

The rules were simple in Steve’s car. Wipe your feet before you get in. No snacks or drinks. And most importantly, don’t touch the fucking radio.

Steve is very particular about his music. He likes what he likes and he won’t hear anything about it. He likes pop music because it’s happy, it’s fun, and it gives him something mindless to sing along to when his head feels too full.

Even when the kids complain, or Robin teases him, Steve is steadfast. Whatever is playing is what’s going to play, and no one is going to be able to say anything about it.

But then Eddie came crashing into his life like a hurricane.

Eddie is a lot of things that Steve isn’t. He’s confident and loud, brash and unapologetic in just about everything he does. They’re also the same, sometimes; they’re both scarred, both of them just wanting to be loved, to be understood.

Falling for Eddie was a quiet thing, for Steve. It crept up on him until one day he looked at Eddie, smiling and laughing as he and the kids were gathered around the table playing their dragons game, and he thought oh. Oh I want to be with this person for the rest of my life.

That’s where it started, and now they’re here. It’s only been a couple of days since Eddie beat him to the punch and confessed first. They kissed, they touched, and decided that this is something they both wanted. Steve could hardly believe that Eddie wanted him back.

They hadn’t told the kids yet; not that they were hiding it, but they were both enjoying just being together and figuring out what exactly that meant. But it’s good already, with Eddie giving him a sweet, private smile as he slides into the front seat. Steve had volunteered to pick the whole gaggle of them up from the arcade so he could bring them back to his house for a movie night.

“Heya Stevie,” Eddie says, pulling his hair across his mouth. It’s enough to make Steve’s heart start beating fast even over the sound of the boys climbing into the backseat. “Happy to see me?”

“Always,” Steve answers honestly. Eddie’s cheeks turn a delightful shade of pink and Steve mourns the fact that he can’t leave over and kiss him. Soon, he tells himself. Once they drop the kids off, they’ll go back to Eddie’s trailer and-

“We’re burning daylight, Steve! I thought we were going to watch a movie or something!” Dustin’s voice breaks through the lovesick haze that had settled over them.

Steve grumbles and turns the car on. “Keep your shirt on, butthead. We’re going now.” That incites another bout of grumbling and arguing from the backseat. “Don’t make me regret offering you guys the chance to use the TV. Or make me consider throwing out all those snacks I bought, or sending the pizza back…”

Eddie pretends to swoon and presses his hand to his forehead. “Oh no, please, oh gracious King of my Heart! Do not let the ramblings of the peasants cast a shadow upon your infinite kindness and patience!” He looks up at Steve with big, wide eyes that make Steve think a whole lot of other things besides the upcoming movie night. “What can this fair knight do to assuage the slight against your good name?”

“I could think of a few things,” he says, just loud enough for Eddie to hear. It makes a pretty cat-like grin break out across Eddie’s face. Oh, the things they’re going to do later…

Eddie seems to be on the same page, licking his lips as he reaches up to the radio. He pushes the button and pops the tape out, slipping in the he’d made for Steve the night they decided they wanted to give this a go. It makes Steve’s heart skip a beat.

It’s probably why it takes him so long to realize that the backseat has gone completely silent. No squabbling, so arguing, no nothing. Dead silent. Eddie picks up on it too, turning around in his seat to stare at them. “Did someone press the mute button? What gives?”

“You touched the radio,” comes Will’s voice from the back, sounding awed.

“Yeah? And? Steve always lets me put music on.”

That gets a reaction. Dustin and Mike start squawking protests. “What the hell, Steve?? You never let us pick the music? You don’t even let Robin touch the radio! What are the three rules of riding in the Bimmer?” Dustin calls out.

“Wipe your feet. No snacks or food. And most importantly, don’t touch the radio,” the other boys in the back chorus together.

Eddie turns and looks at Steve, smile getting impossibly wider. “Is that so?”

He could deny it. He could lie and say they’re just being shitheads about it. It’d be really easy. “Yeah. Yeah it is true. But you know,” Steve stops, reaching over and grabbing Eddie’s hand to press a kiss to the back of it. His heart is pounding, but it’s worth it for the stars he sees in Eddie’s eyes. “You’re the exception to the rule.”

The backseat erupts in a whole different bout of noise, but Steve tunes it out. He’s too busy enjoying the way he and Eddie’s fingers are laced together over the console, the mixtape Eddie made for him playing in the background.

“Does this mean you’ll let us eat in the car now?” Mike tries, sounding put out.

Steve shakes his head. “Absolutely fucking not.” Though, he looks over at Eddie, who is still grinning like the cat who got the canary. “Except you. Boyfriend privileges and all that.”

It’s worth the noise coming from the back.

#les writes things #steddie #steddielovemonth

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userlando · 10 months

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any chance you can write the same hotel room have to be quiet sex but with max? I feel in my gut he’s as loud as they come

this isn’t quite the same setting but it’s still “have to be quiet sex” so I hope it’s okay 🤭 thank you for requesting max, i love him a lot <3

blinding pleasure (1.9k words) max verstappen/fem!reader bathroom smut 18+

The music is loud in your ears, pulsing much like your heart as you stare at your phone screen. It’s opened on your text conversation with Max and you can’t help the little smirk that graces your lips when you glance up and look across the room; Catching the wide eyed stare he gives you as his eyes flicker from you to his phone. He fumbles with the drink in his hand, looking around for a place to set it down before typing on his phone.

You’re not standing too far, close enough to see the light flush on his cheeks that the alcohol in his system has provided him with, the colour deepening as his fingers tap on his screen. He’s drunk, buzzed off of the few drinks he’s had and it’s evident in his body language and the way he’s been carrying himself for the last hour.

You glance at your phone, where you’d been having a conversation that gradually went from a playful you look hot to your most recent one: I seem to have forgotten my panties when we left the house.

Max looks up, bottom lip caught between his teeth and your phone buzzes in your hands a second later, three consecutive messages. Like his brain is going faster than his fingers can type.

bathroom

3 minutes

need to fuck you

You grin, trying not to think too hard over how you’re about to possibly defile Lando’s poor bathroom when you set your can of seltzer down on the counter, not even sparing your boyfriend a glance when you pass him on your way to the upstairs bathroom.

The place is crowded, more people than these walls are probably used to so it takes a minute or two to navigate through the throng of people and up the stairs. The restroom is unoccupied, but so very close to the staircase and you know that’ll be a potential problem because Max isn’t a quiet person. He argues that he is, but two years down the line in your relationship and he hadn’t managed to prove you right even once. It wasn’t a secret that your boyfriend was unapologetically himself, loud and proud when needed be, but he became borderline obnoxious when he was drunk and while you found that mostly funny and endearing; it wasn’t always in your favour.

You stare at the bathroom door, waiting for the knocks to come. The skirt you’re wearing rides up when you haul yourself up on the counter, and you bite back a grin when you think back on how Max had been following you with his eyes all night. He hadn’t questioned your choice of clothes when you’d walked out the apartment, only grabbing at your thighs and being touchy until you had to swat his hands away. If he’d wandered up any further with his hands, he’d ruin the surprise you’d so nicely set up for him.

There were three knocks on the door and the sound of it startled you a little. You reached your arm out to unlock the door, smiling when it cracked open and your boyfriend’s face came into view. He looked a little concerned that maybe he’d gotten the wrong bathroom, full lips stretching into a pleased smile when he caught sight of you. Max stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, only locking it when you stretched a leg out to give his thigh a nudge with your foot as a wordless reminder.

His hand caught your leg, sliding up your knee and thigh the closer he got until he was crowded up against the counter and stood between the V of your legs. You watched his hand as he lifted your thigh up, hooking it over his hip with a searching gaze.

“Wanna know.” Was all he said, words a little hushed but you were still a bit lost on what he meant. He glanced up at you, biting his lower lip as if to keep his smile at bay. “Wanna know if you were winding me up or if you really have been walking around without any panties.”

You grinned at that, flushing warmth all over your body when you grabbed his hand and slowly guided it up under your skirt. The sharp inhale when he felt skin instead of the usual cotton was worth all the trouble and awkwardness of walking commando all night. His cheeks turned a little pink as he stared at you, eyes wide and glossy from the drinks he’d had.

“Almost managed to flash Daniel earlier.” You said, laughter in your voice and your amusement only grew when his eyebrows pulled together into a disapproving frown.

He didn’t say anything but his fingers did all the talking as they swiped through your folds, feeling the wetness there and rubbing gentle circles against your clit. You gasped at the sensation, scooting closer to the edge to hopefully get him to hurry up and fuck you but he was still looking annoyed; like the thought of anyone else seeing you bare was too much to bear.

“You’re mine.” He leaned forward, the words coming out of his mouth a statement rather than a question. It sounded possessive, jealous and it was like music to your ears. “No one can fuck you like I can.”

Your head shook in the negative because no, Max was the only one in tune with your body and needs. There was no one else who could measure up to him, and even if there was, you wouldn’t want them.

“No one.” You looked at him from beneath your lashes, trapping your lower lip between your teeth.

“Yeah?” He looked smug all of a sudden as he nudged a finger against your hole, pushing until your warmth enveloped the digit nicely. Max exhaled at the tightness, pushing his finger to the knuckle and watching you squirm. “No one can make you feel like I can.”

“Only you.” You nodded, breathless.

Your arms went up to his shoulders, hands stroking along the hardness of the muscles there before your fingers slid up the back of his head; knocking his cap to the tiled floor. His hair was standing on end, soft to the touch when you buried your fingers in his strands.

He added another finger, listening to your whines as he fucked you. There came a point where your begging started to get a little too loud, and he was quick to slot his mouth against yours to hopefully shush you.

Normally he’d encourage every sound and word that came from your pretty mouth, but he knew you’d be mortified if any of your friends caught you fucking in a bathroom when all was said and done.

The kiss was filthy, there was no other word to describe it. Your lips opened beautifully under his and he could taste the sweet tang of alcohol on your tongue, finding the taste of you so addicting that he hurried to pull his fingers out because you were stretched and wet enough for him.

He was about to reach down and unzip his pants but you were quicker than him, making small sounds in your throat as you worked on getting him out of his underwear. Max watched you, chest tight with all the emotions he felt for you and they only swelled when you grinned in triumph, having managed to fish him out and get your hands on him.

Max threw his head back, mouth falling open in a groan when you started to jack him off, arching his back into your hand and eyelids fluttering shut. You watched him with hooded eyes, leaning up to press feather soft kisses to his jawline.

Your thumb swiped over his head, collecting the wetness there to aid you as you stroked him to full hardness. Max was breathing heavy, moaning louder than he probably realised but you weren’t about to stop him; Not now. He sounded so pretty and you were hit with a wave of sudden need to have him in you, notching his head against your entrance and placing your other hand against his asscheek to bring his hips in. He slid in, inch by beautiful inch and your breath hitched in your throat when the widest part of him stretched you out.

Max tilted his head down, lips pink and wide open as he stared at your face; Noting the slight frown on your face that immediately had him pausing his hips, giving you a moment to adjust to him. It shouldn’t have made his ego swell as much as it did, how even after two years, you still needed to adjust to his size. It made him almost puff his chest but he refrained, placing one palm of his hand against the flat surface of the counter next to your thigh and the other one sliding up to your cheek.

The tender touch made you look up, and Max kissed your lips slowly before raising his brows in question. You gave him a nod, flexing your hand where it was still resting on his buttock and Max pushed his forehead against yours as he slid all the way inside; A deep guttural moan rumbling in his chest.

“Need to be quiet, baby.” You urged him, earning a sloppy kiss to the side of your mouth from him. “Don’t want them to hear, do you?”

Max gave a hard thrust, sending you up the counter with a high pitched moan that hit him in the stomach like a punch.

“I don’t give a fuck.” He replied honestly, words a little slurred and you believed him completely.

Max had no shame. He was only so careful and modest to protect you. And fuck, did you love him for it.

You placed both of your hands behind you on the counter as Max started picking up pace, thrusting into you with these punched out breaths that anyone walking by outside could no doubt hear. But you were too lost in the sensations of his cock, the burn of the stretch giving way to something that had your nerves singing. You threw your head back, baring your throat and it was all Max needed to hunch forward and attach his lips to the vulnerable skin there, biting and licking until your moans were rumbling beneath his lips.

“Sound so pretty.” His words only made you moan louder, and Max couldn’t stop himself from grinning as he grabbed a hold of your ass with one hand to bring you into him every time he fucked forward.

He watched your eyes roll, bringing his free hand up to stick two fingers into your mouth and he could see the moment it dawned on your face when you realised that he’d just pushed the very same fingers into your mouth that had just been inside of you.

“You taste so good, right baby?” He pushed his fingers further into your throat, hearing you gag and watching your throat muscles contract at the intrusion. “Yeah, you do. Look at you, you’re loving this. Such a pretty slut.”

Your pussy clenched around his cock at that, making Max grin wildly as he pulled his fingers out. Saliva was dripping down your lip and the Dutchman chased it with his own mouth, licking up your chin to your lips before claiming them in a kiss that had your toes curling.

Max didn’t care about how you were supposed to walk out of here like nothing had just happened. How you’d be able to pull yourself together, or how you were supposed to hide the bite marks on your throat. All he cared about was how he was gonna make you sing.

And you did.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

i am severely sleep deprived so i'm gonna drop off the face of the earth for the next few hours. i enjoyed writing this, so i hope you enjoyed reading it 😭 i feel like i keep posting these blurbs and putting of posting longer fics but blurbs are just SO fun to write <;/3

#max verstappen x female reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #max verstappen blurb #f1 fics #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 blurb

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ariossarts · 7 months

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Man, I'm so tired of seeing the Sexuality discourse under the BG3 or Astarion tags. The amount of people posting that it's "Irritating" or "Disgusting" to see him with a female partner is rediculous, and straight up bi/pan-phobic.

It doesn't matter if Astarion has had more male partners in the past, and it doesn't matter if he's more flamboyant than the other male companions/characters. That does not make a person 'gay-coded.' To say he is strictly gay is to erase his canonical sexuality.

Astarion is Pansexual, as said by his writer and Niel, the actor that portrayed him. Pansexuality by definition, "Pansexuality is sexual, romantic, or emotional attraction towards people of all genders, or regardless of their sex or gender identity. Pansexual people might refer to themselves as gender-blind, asserting that gender and sex are not determining factors in their romantic or sexual attraction to others."

As a Pansexual person, it's been great representation to see that all of the companions are Bi/Pan, because not often is that given to us in media. I am in a "Hetero" relationship, but that does not erase the fact I am a proud Queer person, and it doesn't negate my same-sex relationships in the past. That doesn't remove my sexuality in anyway -- I am who I am.

Astarion isn't Gay. Astarion isn't Hetero. Astarion is Astarion, he likes what he likes, and people need to stop erasing his sexuality and/or trauma to fit what they want him to be.

Do some research on Pansexuality and Bisexuality, and stop the discourse of erasing Bi/Pan people from our communities. We are unapologetically ourselves, and if Astarion existed for #realzies, he would be to. Astarion has no limits to who he falls for, because that's the beauty of Pansexuality. Pans people fall in love with who you are at your core, not what's between your legs, and that to me is Astarions whole story in a nutshell. You saved him, you helped him, you made him realize he was worth more than his body.

In the great words of the Pale Elf himself; "Oh Come off. You're Wonderful. I don't care what you look like. What you cannot do, is make my decisions for me. I've had more than enough of that in my life"

Sincerely, a Pans Astarion enjoyer.

#bg3 astarion #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion is pansexual #pansexual #bg3

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runa-falls · 10 months

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pornstar!moon-boys x fluffer!reader

part two: steven

special shout out to @writefightandflightclub for this masterpiece about feral steven!

a/n: some headcannons bc we filthy up in this bitch >:) this one turned out a bit longer than I anticipated

others: marc | jake | more steven

----

as a fluffer, it's your job to know how to keep the boys interested. each alter has their own preferences:

(NSFW 18+ under the cut)

steven: the sweetheart

GIF by moonxknightx

Steven was the second alter you met. And this time, you were the one that was surprised.

Sweet Steven didn't seem like he had any business being a pornstar, but it turns out he's great at it. And the viewers love him.

Especially the ladies.

He's one of the tamer performers, acting as a gentle lover that provides comforting sex or the shy guy who's inexperienced. Viewers love how unapologetically desperate and pussy-drunk he gets on camera, how the slightest touch can set him off.

His most viewed video is him as a naive professor getting seduced then fucked by a slutty student. Needless to say, in most of his work, he's the one getting fucked, not the other way around.

You don't know why he followed in Marc's footsteps, becoming an adult performer, but it was only a few days after he joined the business that he asked for you. It was puzzling at first, meeting a variation of Marc who shares his face and body, but it was clear that they were quite different.

Unlike Marc, Steven craved softness and wasn't afraid to show it.

He reacts best to praise, gentle touches, and kisses like young lovers on a honeymoon. He likes to feel taken care of, ease into it instead of diving right in.

You found out pretty quick that you have to be more careful with him, one wrong move and he's spilling in your hand, eyes glistening with humiliation and embarrassment. Then it's another 15 minutes before the next session.

His sessions alway start with a greeting. Even after all this time, he's still very shy around you, acting like it's a first date rather than a quick fluffing sesh.

"Uh, hello!" He literally waves at you and you're not even three feet away.

"Hey Steven." Your voice is soft with him, as sweet as honey and as tempting as nectar. It's the first step to luring him in.

He always gives you that look even before you step into the room, one of longing and anticipation. Like you're the best part of his day. No wonder his partners are always falling for his shy smiles and dreamy eyes.

You sit on one of the couches in the prep room, gesturing to the spot right next to you, "Come 'ere, babe." He loves it when you call him sweet names like that.

You start with a kiss:

Your hand cradles his jaw and he nuzzles into it, his eyes shut, ready for anything you'll give him. You hear him sigh as you slowly lean in and press your lips gently against his, showering his mouth with small pecks, just enough to leave him wanting.

He whines when you pull away, eyes opening ever so slightly to see where you're going. You barely pull away enough to take your shirt off before he's pulling you back in for hungry kiss, hand on the back of your neck.

Steven can actually be quite demanding when he really wants something. And though most sessions consist of him obediently sitting next to you while you squeeze and tease him, sometimes he loses control.

He loves your taste, the smell of your perfume, and the weight of your body against his. His hands glide and mold over every inch of your body, attempting to memorize your figure for the hundredth time, as your hips roll against him.

You've found the best way to get him hard but not ruined is a few minutes of making out and clothed grinding. He's usually already plenty hard after the first few innocent kisses, but to stay hard, he needs physical touch. Closeness.

You.

But you have to strategically measure it out to get the best results.

The first time, you experimented by giving him head, but he physically couldn't stop himself from fucking your throat. He came with a cry, hand clutched desperately in your hair, forcing your lips to meet the tan skin of his hips. You're sure you'll have that image in your mind for the rest of your life.

Anyone who's witnessed Steven cum first-hand is as lucky as they get. His whimpers could inspire a nun to leave the church.

The second time, you gave him a handjob. He spurted against his t-shirt within a handful (lol) of minutes moaning your name, thighs trembling against yours. You also learned that he's not one to be edged unless the director wants him with tear-stained cheeks and reddened eyes. (sometimes they do though!)

Finally you figured out the best bet: kisses, nuzzles, touches, and grinding.

Steven whines out as you lave your tongue softly against his sensitive neck. His hips attempt to cant with yours, grinding his hardness into your heated center.

"Please, darling. Grind harder on me, I-I need it."

"Mm...No can do Stevie," Your hips raise so he's barely touching you, depriving him of much needed stimulation. "Can't have you busting in your shorts, can I?"

"No no no, ughnn..." He tries to hold your waist and pull you further against him, but you yank his wrists away, pinning them against the couch. "Please, I promise I won't. Jus' need a little more, is all."

You giggle at his frustration, but only answer with a peck on his lips before pulling away. You can actually hear him whimper when you roll off of him.

"I think you're ready, Steven."

"N-no. Not yet. I think I still need more. Yeah, a bit more will do me good!"

You perk an eyebrow as you consider the large tent at the front of his shorts. He looks up at you sheepishly.

"Yeah, I don't think so."

#steven grant x reader #steven grant smut #steven grant #moon knight #pornstar!steven grant #pornstar!moon boys

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vxiphoid · 10 months

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SERENE SHENANIGANS

❨ summary ❩ twst › waking them up to tell them stories that don’t make sense

tags ✧ fluff, crack, savanaclaw boys, defo not proofread its like 7 am, cursing but nothing out of the ordinary, ooc(?), ruggie calls you a little shit like once (affectionate), jack is whipped for you

amanuensis’ message ⊹ I LITERALLY LOVE DOING THIS??? my friends hate me for it. but anyways hiii im back after like my month hiatus, how are thy sleeplings?😋 mb guys writers block has been really kicking my ass, i was spitting blanks on paper… i’m gonna hopefully post another pastry emporium soon for scarabia so stay tuned for that‼️

⌜ 300+ e/chara ⌟

♫ sunset boulevard - hohyun

twst masterlist

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

— “leona… pspsps….”

— he hums gruffly when his name was called the first time, only opening his eye thinking you called him a second time when it was really just noise that you would make to get the attention of a house cat. he instantly pins his ears back. how dare you. “hmm?”

— “so i took our snail for a walk and i had accidentally left my feet here to wash the dishes because the grass was blue.”

— huh? you could see him trying to process everything you just said as you explained, his lips parting and eyebrows furrowing. it took everything in you not to laugh. he does one of those blinks, the really delayed ones, one eye opens before the other…

— he’s half asleep too so the confusion is just adding up altogether. if chicken scratch wasn’t a writing term, this is literally it in words. its like the books back at home he picks up to read (derogatory) its, what, 4 am? dont do this to him😭

— you’ve never seen him so expressive💀 this definitely makes his eye and ear twitch at the same time. what type of fucked up fever dream is this?? its usually a blessing seeing you as the first thing he wakes up to, not when you wake him up with some bull strung up in a sentence with your beady eyes staring at him while he sleeps. he loves you, yes, but what does he even say to this…

— “what…”

— your forehead met with his chest as you struggled not to laugh at the uncharacteristic break in leona’s voice. how many cups of coffee did you drink? he asks you to repeat yourself even though it kinda a mind mush decision so you did and by the end of it, he looks absolutely restless.

— “that’s… yes. that’s great, herbivore. can we go to bed now?”

— you note that leona is surprisingly patient when half asleep

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

JACK HOWL

— deep sleeper. tug his ear. though he practically springs up before your hand makes contact, giving himself whiplash.

— “jack?”

— almost instantly relaxes when he realizes its you, tail wagging subtly☹️ “hi, baby. s’something wrong?”

— “hiii, do you remember a year ahead ago when i had to go to the dentist to get my spine fixed and the cats were barking at the flying dogs because the sky was in the water?”

— bro feels like he just had a stroke💀 he’s blinking rapidly, rubbing nose bridge as you explain. he really wants to understand, he does, but wtf did you just say??? it was the innocent “hi” before you unapologetically bashed his head in with the entire dictionary. its so ridiculous he couldn’t help but laugh.

— “jack, this is serious.” even as you told him that, your voice was not steady at all which made his shoulders shake violently in silent laughter.

— “im listening, i swear. tell me one more time?” yk his ass is not listening. he pulls you into his lap while his thumbs idly rubbed your sides, responding to your stories with “uh-huh” and “yeah?” with a lovesick smile on his face.

— eventually holds your face and starts pressing heart squeezing, fluffy kisses all over your face which truly made you more tired then you were. you honestly start forgetting what and where the story was going.

— jack only pauses his kissing attack to respond when you take a small break but even then he doesn’t pull away fully, he’s just speaking against your skin

— “—and the duck had my arm while i was taking it on a walk because gran tammy was in a flying shopping cart.”

— “oh wow. and then?”

— he’s listening but he’s not, mostly because he’s like two seconds away from dreamland and his brain isn’t registering half the shit you’re saying. he wants to see how many stories you can jumble up.

— “yeah, i think it’s bedtime for us…”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

RUGGIE BUCCHI

— omfg he wakes up like a mom. like yk how you would barely touch them and they would gasp like they were just given cpr?? he wakes up like that.

— and you’re just standing there awkwardly 👁️👁️

— takes a quick look around before looking at you. “what happened? is it time to wake up leona already?” you shake your head and ruggie flops back, an arm draped over his eyes. “you scared me… come, lay down with me?” he held his free arm out for you and you did take your place cozied up against his side. to your surprise, you did actually scare the living shit out of him from how fast his heart was racing.

— “ruggie, yk i just found out you’re related to turtles, right? and i had to take uncle bobby to the vet to get a dna test because the fish drowned in air.”

— slow roblox turn towards you but instead its his head as he cranes it down to stare at you. you can practically hear the gears in his head turning and you literally could not look at him or you’d blow your cover.🧍🏾

— “i’m sorry,, what the fuck??”

— he’s genuinely confused, asking you questions about your story while his brain tries to put together the pieces. each question he asks, the more its harder to speak in full sentences other than wheezes

— “what are you laughing at, ya little shit? explain this to me!”

— “i’m trying!”

— and you are😭 its like when you have to explain the family tree really slow bc you cant say, “my father’s girlfriend’s son” without him like ???? and you’re trying to explain it to him slowly, eventually forgetting what you said in the first place…

— “…and the fish drowned in air.”

— “yes.”

— “sweetheart, you still haven’t explained how i’m related to turtles—”

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uravitypng · 8 days

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𝐰𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞!

pairing: atsumu miya x chubby reader

word count: 1.1k words

a/n: this is a slightly longer version to something i wrote a couple days, an anon asked for shameless smut with atsumu and a chubby reader and i delivered them this (x) this is the longer version of that

content warnings: (not a lot really?? its pretty fluffy for smut) horny/needy atsumu, vaginal sex, body worship, atsumu making a joke about you looking hot while humiliated, he's kind of a meanie (a menace if you will, but a menace in love) / mdni

"tsumu we're going to be late! our reservations are at half seven, we're meeting all the others in less than an hour." you're meant to be celebrating a msby win with the team and their partners but instead you're laying in your shared bed with your fiancee with your dress bunched up.

"don't blame me. it's yer fault for looking so hot. you can't blame me when my wife looks so good."

"wife? not yet." you try and pull your dress back down but atsumu isn't having it and swats your hand away, not letting you.

"shut yer trap, ya know what i mean." while keeping your dress bunched up he runs his large hands over your thick thighs, enjoying your soft skin underneath his hands.

you giggle at his response but your laugh is cut off as he places a kiss over your clothed clit making you gasp. tsumu slightly pushes your underwear to the side and then blows air against your clit getting satisfaction from make you shudder. the tips of his fingers stroke you up and down, lightly, teasing you, a patch already soaking through from your arousal. " 's not my fault when you look so hot in that dress, clinging to all your curves like that. you're making me go crazy." he pulls down your underwear and throws them somewhere behind them not taking any notice to where, "we can be a little late."

"a little?" you snort as you stare of in the direction of your discarded clothes. he smirks and kisses your hip, pulling down your dress at the top too so that your tits are on display and your dress is only covering the middle part of your body. atsumu pulls down your bra as well and gropes your breasts harshly before pinching your nipples causing you to whine.

he drags his digits along your already wet folds, his fingers becoming the same. he feels no shame as he sucks his fingers clean. you swallow as you watch his tongue circle his two fingers that are still in his mouth, he hums and there's a popping sound as he takes them out. "ya taste so good sweetheart."

you turn your head away embarrassed from the act, "none of that now if you don't look at me i'll stop what i'm doing and i'm sure you want me to keep going at this point." he warns you and you reluctantly look back at him, still embarrassed. he smirks as he sees you try and shy your eyes away from his, "aw, you embarrassed love?" he chuckles. "there's no need. i wasn't lying or nothin' ya taste fucking amazing."

"don't say that tsumu, it's humiliating," you whine, finally making eye contact with him again.

"humiliation looks so good on you though," he smirks while pinching your nipple harder that he had been previously, making you yelp and him to burst out laughing because of the noise. you scowl at him but he just smirks again, unapologetically.

atsumu runs his large hands all over your body before stating suddenly, "this is stupid," and he starts pulling up your dress to take it off completely and moves up to face you so he can look at how pretty you are.

"i thought you said it looked hot?" you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to kiss him.

"you do! ya just look better with it off," he smirks and allows you to pull him down. kissing messily, all tongue and teeth, clashing , right in the moment, he just can't help himself when it comes down to you and you're not one to complain just as swept up around atsumu as he is with you. most of the time atsumu kisses you slowly and tenderly while cupping your cheek but you never complain when he looks at you more hungrily.

now that you're completely naked he squeezes and grabs your pudgy tummy and kneeds your love handles, groaning as his fingers sink into your soft malleable skin.

his clothes come off just as rushed as yours did, hastily pulling down his jeans and boxers all at once, he quickly threw them behind him too, getting the same treatment as your clothes did, his dick already rock hard and weeping, begging to buried inside you.

atsumu lifted your thigh up, resting his palm at the bottom where he's slung your thigh over his shoulder and he's folding your body as he plunges his fat cock into you to the hilt as deep as possible hitting the spongy spot making you see stars, his coarse semi-groomed pubes stimulating you further. your wet heat envelops him and he groans, "jesus baby, i love ya s'much."

he ruts into you hard and fast, causing your plush body to jiggle with each thrust and atsumu doesn't know where to look. you look like a goddess in his eyes and every inch of you is perfect he just can't decide; your tummy rolls that are squished together, your breasts that freely bounce without any bra, your cute face and chubby cheeks, your pretty pussy that keeps sucking him back in with every thrust, not wanting him to go leaving a creamy ring at the base of his cock with every thrust. he can't decide where to look- you're perfect.

his balls make a smacking sound with each trust when making contact with your ass and your thighs start to ache with how pressed up they are against your breasts and it's good thing atsumu is driving tonight because it's doubtful you'd be able to walk far after this, your whole lower body will likely be sore. you love every second of it though.

you admire how handsome your fiancee is above you, hooded brown eyes that are gazing at you like he wants to bite into you and eat you up, lazy smirk that adorns his face, bleached dyed hair that's become messy after him jumping on you, a light sheen of sweat covers his forehead and his lips plump, looking slightly swollen, from how much you've been kissing. you reach a hand up and tug his hair, pulling him down so he's close enough for you to kiss again and you do kiss, tongues dancing together.

you intimately press a palm against his cheek and feel the heat radiating under your hand, atsumu's eyes flutters close a few times, smiling sweetly as he feels your warm touch. one hand is still holding onto your thigh occasionally squeezing the softness making him harder. his other hand is holding onto one of your hands, fingers intertwined. he repeats himself from earlier, mumbling against your forehead, "love you, love you s' much."

"love you too 'tsumu!" you moan and you're gripping onto his hand even tighter.

you turn up to dinner late, very late.

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projectionistwrites · 1 year

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FOR SCIENCE | SUBJECT 1

In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all...

Steven Grant x afab!psychologist!reader (8.0k+)

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: fetishization of mental disorders (DID), psychoanalysis, potentially unethical scientific practices, SMUT (dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f! and m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, intense overstimulation, non-ejaculatory orgasm, cumplay, cum eating, praise kink, dirty talk, use of the stoplight system) NOTES: steven is my baby. he deserves the world. i hope i did his character justice. DISCLAIMER: although i’m incredibly knowledgeable about psychology, i am NOT a professional. all psychoanalyses made throughout the course of this storyline are entirely my own, based on my own interpretations of the characters. in a similar vein, i am also not an expert on DID specifically (although i am well-read on mental disorders and diagnoses), so i apologize for any incorrect terminology or misrepresentation. don’t hesitate to call me out if i say something wrong!

← previous part | next part →

CASE STUDY: STEVEN GRANT

ROLE IN SYSTEM: Caretaker / Internal Self-Helper

ATTACHMENT STYLE: Preoccupied

CHARACTERISTICS: timid, introverted, sensitive, unassertive; inferiority complex; the epitome of a people pleaser.

SPLIT FROM HOST: assumedly a result of simultaneous emotional and physical abuse from mother.

TRAUMA RESPONSE: alter likely emerged as a way to maintain the childhood innocence of the host; a personification of the word 'hope'.

SEXUAL PRESENTATION: shy, reserved, submissive, responsive, doting; views relationship as transactional (i.e. his only value is derived from what he can provide to a partner, whether that be physically, fiscally, materially, or emotionally); incredibly receptive to praise and validation.

Silence.

It filled the room and weighed heavy in the air—only interrupted by the buzzing of the filter in Gus’ fish tank near the center of the apartment.

You swallowed.

Why did it have to be Steven first?

You knew why. You’d made the decision deliberately, carefully—Steven was the softest, most vulnerable and hesitant. The most emotionally mature, but also the most emotionally fragile. Sensitive, caring, empathetic, loving—he really, truly cared. That’s why he had to go first. This was more than just an excuse to have sex with you—this was intimacy, passion, a closeness he so desperately craved. And you knew, deep down, he’d be comparing himself to his other alters. Envying their confidence, their forwardness, their unapologetic sexual prowess. Steven had always felt inferior—you needed to prove to him that that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

But still. As much as you cared for him, as much as you were looking forward to getting to know him physically, in that moment, you desperately wished for a hint of Marc’s initiative, or even a sliver of Jake’s assertiveness.

Steven was sat on the couch, hunched over, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. Nervous energy pulsed from his body in waves—his clear stress wasn’t doing anything to help with your own trepidation.

You shuffled beside him, crossing one leg over the other at the ankles. You drew in a breath.

“Do you... do we need to go over anything again?”

He flinched at your intrusion on the silence—without sparing you a glance, he offered a brief shake of his head.

“Well, I think we should go over it one more time, just in case. So. Today is—is about you. Whatever you say goes. Obviously, I have my limits, but, I mean, I really don’t see that being much of a problem with any of you—except maybe Jake...”

You digressed, but the mention of his alters clearly ruffled Steven’s feathers, even if he hid it well. You continued.

“And—and you’ll be fronting the whole time. No co-consciousness, or interruption from the others. Right?”

Steven nodded again, more firmly this time.

“Okay. And lastly—well, I’ve thought about it, and—and I think we should be fine without condoms.”

That got Steven’s attention. His head turned to you, eyes wide with bewilderment.

“What?”

You looked away abashedly, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I just—I’ve got the implant, and well—Marc gave me documentation confirming that you’re negative for any STI’s, which—so am I. So I figure—unless you’re gonna be having sex with anyone else in the time this experiment is being conducted, then—then I think we should be fine... for now.”

“You told us we had to be abstinent in the week between each experimental window.”

You laughed at this, amused at the incredulity in his voice.

“Oh, so you were planning on seeing someone else in between, then?”

His face flushed with alarm as he attempted to backtrack.

“Wha—no! No, I didn’t mean—you just—you said we should refrain from doin’ anything, as in—anything. So I just—”

“Relax, Steven, I’m just teasing you.”

You giggled, reaching to grip his bicep reassuringly. Your fingers making contact with his body seemed to jostle him—he stared down at the place your fingers wrapped around his arm, electricity crackling from your fingers and lighting a fire in his belly. He swallowed.

His sudden attention to your presence grounded you back into reality as well. You felt the taut muscles of his bicep flex beneath your hand, the parting of Steven’s lips and fluttering of his lashes making your breath stumble.

When he looked up at you, finally, his eyes were dark—lustful, desirous. Still, there was a sense of restraint within him, his diffidence preventing him from moving unto you further. You realized that you would likely have to make the first move.

“Steven.”

You spoke softly, drawing him in.

“Are you—do you feel ready?”

For a moment, he looked terrified, like a deer caught in headlights. He glanced away from you for a moment, trying to reason with himself, to will the anxiety away. You squeezed his arm.

“You don’t have to do this, Steven, really. It’s not too late to change your mind.”

“I want this.”

“But Steven, really, it’s alright—”

“No, you don’ understand—I really, really want this.”

His words were breathy, but certain, the desire in his tone undeniable. You felt your breath hitch at his confession, and before either of you had time to worry about it anymore, you closed the gap between you, pushing yourself up against his side and tilting your head so your lips met his. He whined into your mouth, his initial hesitance wearing off and making way for his insatiable hunger for your touch, your taste, you.

His hands reached to grip the back of your head, fingers threading in your hair as he pulled you closer, forcing your lips to meld against his deeply. You leaned into him, allowing yourself to shift into his lap, your thighs straddling his. As you settled your weight onto him, he audibly groaned as your core pressed against the hardening tent in his pants. Your hands traveled up his chest and along his shoulders as your tongue explored his mouth. He fought back with equal fervor, and you could sense that there was a hint of desperation in him—as if he was finally acting upon the months worth of repressed sexual tension between the two of you.

You pulled away with a gasp, coming up for air as you lifted your chin slightly, away from the chase of his lips. Instead, they began a sloppy assault on your throat, mouthing and teething at the supple flesh of your neck and down into your collarbone. You let out a breathy moan as Steven lavished your skin with attention, quickly gaining the confidence to suck a mark into the juncture between your neck and shoulder. You keened.

“God, Steven.”

The sound of his name falling from your lips was heaven. He pulled you back down for another searing kiss, and you offered an experimental nip to the swell of his bottom lip. He groaned.

“Christ, you’re a minx.”

His voice was throaty, gravelly, and you giggled at his comment as he pressed kisses to the corners of your mouth and the surrounding flesh of your cheeks.

“Should we... do you want to move to the bed?”

You asked quietly, and the man stiffened, clearly enticed by the proposal.

“Yes. Gods, yes.”

You regretfully pulled yourself from his lap and he followed immediately after, reaching for your hand as you guided him back towards his bed. It was neatly made, the corners tucked in and the blankets pressed. For some reason, it made you want to cry. You’d been at his flat plenty of times before, but never had you once seen his bed made up so tidy. He did that for you.

As you reached the end of the bed, you hesitated. You had taken the lead, carefully easing Steven into the interaction, but now, you needed to see what he wanted. You looked to him.

“What—where do you want me?”

He swore he almost blacked out at the sheer compliance that your tone offered. He had to squeeze his eyes shut tight in an effort to slow the rapidly building arousal in his groin—you hadn’t even fucking touched him yet.

“Would you—could you just lay down f’me, love?”

You smiled at him gratefully, offering a small nod at you followed his careful instruction. You shuffled up towards the head of the bed, turning to lie flat on your back with your head propped against the pillows. You looked at Steven expectantly—he was just watching you, fists slowly clenching and unclenching at his sides. Christ, you were a sight to beheld.

Cautiously, Steven lowered onto his hands and knees and crawled up towards you, allowing himself to hover over your body with his own, his waist slotting between the parting of your legs. He rested on his elbows, forearms framing your head as he gazed down at you. The sheer reverence and devotion in his eyes was almost too much to bear.

“Bloody hell, you’re gorgeous.”

He mumbled, fingers moving to stroke your hairline, tracing the curvatures of your face. You smiled softly before tilting your head upwards to close the small space that remained between you. These kisses were softer—slow, gentle, repeated slides of his lips against yours. It made you feel lightheaded.

You reached for the hem of his jumper.

“I—can I?”

You questioned against his lips, and he nodded slowly, sitting upright to help you pull the top up and over his head. He flung it to the side carefully, and you spread your hands out against the warmth of his torso, the ring finger on your left hand just barely brushing his right nipple. He hissed as the feeling of your cold hands pressed into his abdomen, but at the same time, the sensation was intoxicating. You let your fingers slide up towards his chest, skating across both of his hardened nipples before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him back to you. He happily obliged, malleable under your touch, but you could feel his fingers twitching as if desperate to touch you. You pushed him back slowly, reaching to take off your own shirt.

“Wait.”

Steven panicked, and you froze, a flash of hurt cresting your face. But he just smiled gently.

“Can—let me.”

He offered, and you laid back, letting his fingers skim the flesh of your stomach as he gripped the hem and pulled the fabric away from you. You sat up briefly to allow him to pull it completely off, revealing your simple white lace bra beneath it. You watched him drink you in, completely infatuated. His hands skated up your sides, over the curve of your hip and across your ribs, but they halted before they reached any further. You nodded in encouragement.

“It’s okay, Steven. You can touch me.”

A whimper escaped his mouth as he slowly reached up the palm at your breast, still contained in the cup of your bra. He could feel the peak of your nipple through the fabric as he massaged the flesh carefully, kneading and squeezing. The sigh you let out spurred him on, and he reached behind you towards the clasp, eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort. Instead, he was met with a warm smile and nod, and his fingers worked to unclip the material beneath you. After a few brief seconds of his fumbling, his brows furrowed in frustration.

“What the—bollocks, why’s it so bloody hard to undo?”

Your saccharine giggle melted his annoyance as you offered him assistance, reaching behind you to unlatch the hooks. When it was finally unclasped, the cups loosening their hold on your breasts, he let out a shaky breath, gripping the straps and watching them glide down your arms until you were topless beneath him.

His movements were slow, deliberate, as he watched your body react to his touch. Tracing beneath the swell of your left breast, dancing across the valley between them, repeating the movement on the right side. Goosebumps trailed in his wake as he stared, utterly entranced at the softness of your skin and the rhythm of your breathing.

His eyes met yours once more, and stayed there as he slowly leaned down and pulled your right nipple into his mouth. You mewled at the action, back arching just slightly as his other hand came to cup your other tit, massaging it gently as he sucked at your flesh. He switched sides, lavishing your other nipple with equal attention, and even offering an experimental nip to the swollen bud, earning a cry from you—a mix between a sharp pain, quickly soothed with the swipe of his tongue.

You hardly noticed when his lips began pressing kisses lower across your chest, your breasts, across the expanse of your stomach, until his lips were skating over your navel, just above the button of your jeans. His dark eyes found yours, and he offered you a silent question, to which you immediately nodded. His trembling fingers reached to undo the button—with which he had much more success than your bra—and pulled the zipper down. As he slowly coaxed the fabric away from your skin, he pressed two hot kisses against each of your hip bones before pulling the pants completely off and discarding them nearby.

His hands roamed the newly exposed skin of your thighs, fingers creating divots in the soft flesh with his firm grip. He leaned down and pressed his lips against your calf, sliding them upwards until he reached your inner thigh. You whimpered at his proximity to where you needed him most, but he evaded you by switching to mirror the same path on your other side. Your toes curled in frustration.

“Steven.”

You huffed, head thrown back, and his head popped upwards, eyes wide with concern.

“Stop teasing.”

His gaze softened, and you felt his lips press right above your pubic bone, where the waistband of your panties was settled.

“Sorry, m’love, I couldn’t help it. I’ll make it better, I promise.”

His fingers gripped the waistband of your underwear and pulled them down your legs, successfully leaving you completely bare beneath him. You had half the mind to feel insecure at the exposure, but when you caught sight of the look on Steven's face, his eyes transfixed on the sopping folds of your cunt, any hesitance was thrown out the window.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

He whispered, letting the pointer finger on his left hand just barely graze between your pussy lips to gather some of your wetness, causing your hips to jolt. He let out a short ‘ha’ sound at your reaction to his touch.

“Is this—s’this all f’me?”

He looked at you again, lips parted and eyes hooded. You nodded vigorously.

“Yes, Steven, yes—all for you.”

He rewarded you with a groan, his finger offering another, firmer swipe through your folds, easily sliding through with the slick of your arousal. The tip of his finger caught on the hood of your clit and your hips jumped again. Instead of removing his finger, he slid it back downwards, slowly circling the entrance of your pussy with careful ministrations. Before you could even ask, he pushed his middle finger deep inside you, curling forward, and almost instantly, the pad of his digit nudged at the most sensitive part of you. You cried out at the abrupt sensation, hips unconsciously grinding down against his hand. He smiled wickedly.

“Ah—there you are.”

He mumbled to himself, repeating the motion once more to ensure he had located the spot where your sensitivity peaked. Again, your body followed the movement of his hand, and he easily added a second finger, slowly beginning to pump them in and out of you, all while continuing the well-received come-hither motion. You squeezed your eyes shut, core muscles clenched as pleasure spread from your cunt upwards, and then his thumb found your clit and you were reeling.

“Oh, fuck, Steven, shit—oh God, I can’t, m’gonna—”

His free hand came up to stroke your hair tenderly, eyes peeling away from where they were watching where his fingers sank into you to ogle at the face you'd make as you climaxed.

“That’s it, love. Doin’ so well. C’mon, give it to me.”

Your orgasm reached its peak, toes curling and back arching as you let out a salacious, pornographic moan, thrusting in time with Steven’s diligent fingers as he coaxed every last drop of pleasure from your dripping folds. Your skin buzzed with sensitivity as the waves of stimulation rippled through you—your breathing was labored when you came down from your high, sinking back into the mattress and grounding yourself back in reality.

Steven pressed a kiss to your lips, which you accepted gratefully, although your energy was significantly less than his—he didn’t seem to mind. He pulled away, just barely, noses brushing together in a moment of intimacy. You felt dizzy.

“So good, Steven—make me feel so good.”

You rambled, hot breath fanning across his face. He glowed at your praise, pressing another soft kiss to your lips. Even after your first orgasm, your hunger for him was nowhere near sated. Your walls were clenching around nothing, desperate for the hot drag of his cock inside of you.

Something resembling a whimper came from the back of your throat, and Steven’s eyes found yours, softening.

“I know, darling, I know. S’alright, I’ve got you. Let me take care of you.”

Your fingers trailed down his stomach and covertly ghosted over the skin right atop the waistband of his jeans. Fuck, he still had his jeans on?

You reached for the button, and Steven took the hint, pulling them off of himself rather ungracefully and tossing them to the side. He was left in just his boxers, and when your hand stroked over the hard outline of his cock within them, he hissed, almost as if he were in pain. He recoiled from your touch just slightly, and you felt brief concern at the reaction. He squinted one eye open at you, wincing.

“Careful, please, love, I—don’t want this to end too quickly.”

“Whatever you want, Steven, I’m yours.”

You breathed, fingers caressing the side of his face and beneath his jawline. He grunted at your words, still fighting to maintain control of his body. It only served to turn you on more. When your fingers once more reached for the band of his boxers, he interrupted you with a kiss.

“Patience, love, s’alright.”

"Want you so bad."

You cried against his mouth, absolutely desperate, and you felt the stutter of his exhale as he pulled away.

“I know, I know, but I—Gods, ’m sorry, but I just have to taste you.”

You barely had time to process his words before his head was between your thighs, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the inner flesh between them. Your eyes fluttered closed just as he licked a long, experimental stripe between your folds, making you jerk up towards him involuntarily.

Your cunt was puffy and swollen from your previous orgasm, but Steven wasted no time diving in. He let the tip of his tongue dance around your bundle of nerves, suckling it into his mouth and humming at the taste. The vibrations traveled all the way through you, and you moaned, head thrown back in ecstasy. You tried to force your legs from caging him in, but when he noticed the strain in your muscles, he tucked his arms beneath your thighs and let your knees rest on his strong shoulders, allowing him an even better angle with which to pleasure you.

He changed course, tongue now prodding at your entrance, pushing in and out carefully and slowly. At the feeling of your walls clenching, Steven jostled just slightly, the bridge of his nose rubbing against your clit just right. You cried out, fingers flying to fist at his dark curls, pulling him back in against you.

“Fuck, do that again, Steven, please.”

Steven wasn’t one to deny you of what you wanted. He obliged, repeating the motion, his tongue penetrating you rhythmically and his nose pressed against your clit in a way that had you seeing stars. You thighs tightened around his head, and you felt more than you heard the groan that it pulled from him. You were suddenly teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

“God, Steven, gonna make me cum, don’t stop, please—”

Steven maintained his pace, smart enough to know not to speed up or slow down or change up his rhythm at all as your toes curled. You briefly opened your eyes, and the sight in front of you toppled you over the cliff—Steven’s dark eyes staring up at you, the lower half of his face buried in your cunt, his hips rutting up against the mattress unconsciously as he watched you come undone. You practically sobbed as the shockwaves overwhelmed you, your thighs squeezing Steven’s head and holding him in place as you tugged at his hair. He happily lapped up your arousal, the taste of you lingering on his tongue when he finally pulled away after you had stopped squirming.

You tasted yourself on his lips when he kissed you, and the sight of your slick coating his chin and smeared across his cheeks was one of the most attractive things you’d ever seen. You smiled at him with hooded eyes, still coming down from your high.

“Please, will you fuck me now, Steven?”

You pleaded, and Steven groaned, pressing his still-covered cock against the heat of your pussy.

“Oh, yes, please, can I?”

He asked for confirmation, because of course he did, he’s Steven, and you nodded feverishly, watching with lustful eyes as he pulled his boxers down, his length finally released from the confines of the fabric. It stood at full height, long and big but not too thick, and you practically felt yourself drooling at the sight. His head was flushed a deep reddish purple, sheened with precum that had accumulated there. There was a prominent vein that ran up the underside of his shaft, and all you wanted to do was run your tongue along it. Steven caught you staring and grimaced, moaning lowly.

“Christ, darling, you keep lookin’ at me like that and ’m not gonna be able to last.”

His hand reached down and gave a few strokes to his cock, pumping it as he moved in towards you. He leaned down over you once again, eyes finding yours, and you felt the tip rub up and down your folds a few times. Steven’s lips were parted in pleasure, his breathing ragged. You felt the head of his cock barely breach the entrance of your pussy.

“Is this—are you sure?”

He asked you one final time, fingers reaching to stroke your hair. Instead of answering, you pulled him in for a sloppy kiss, and slowly, slowly, he pushed into you.

The groan that escaped him was hellish, sinful, practically animalistic as he sheathed himself within you, pushing in to the hilt until he was buried completely in the warmth of your walls. Your eyes never left his face, absolutely living for his expressions of pleasure—his pinched brows, parted lips, heavy breaths. His eyes were squeezed shut as he held himself there for a moment, offering you time to get settled. You didn’t need time. He had opened you up plenty, and your wet channel practically swallowed him with need.

“Alright?”

He breathed, checking to see if you were experiencing any discomfort. You nodded at him and offered a roll of your hips upward, your clit rubbing up against his pubic bone deliciously. He whimpered, pulling his cock out just enough before rocking back into you. You mewled, pressing your face into his shoulder as he repeated the motion, pulling out a bit more each time as he gained confidence and momentum. Soon, he was thrusting into you steadily, each move punctuated by barely audible ‘uh, uh, uh’ sounds from his lips as he lost himself in the feeling of you.

“Yes, Steven, fuck. Fucking me so well, such a good boy.”

That awoke something in him, and his pace faltered just barely, hips stuttering as he let out a high-pitched whine.

“Shit, shit, don’t—you can’t just—I’m not gonna last, Y/N, fuck.”

The look on his face was pained, sweat sheened on his forehead from how hard he was restraining himself. You wanted—you needed to see him fall apart.

“Want you to cum for me, Steven.”

You hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, and he whimpered, shaking his head as he continued pounding into you.

“No, please, not yet, want—want you to cum on my cock.”

He sounded desperate, frantic, but you could feel within yourself that you weren’t going to get there soon, and he couldn’t hold out much longer. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him into you as you cradled his face in your hands, forcing his eyes on yours.

“Need you to cum, Steven, please—please, please, need you to cum for me—”

You clenched your muscles, walls clamping down on him, and with a sharp cry of your name, his cum spilled deep inside you, cock fully nested in your cunt as his spend coated your walls and filled you with warmth. His hips kept thrusting into you, almost of their own volition, forcing his seed deeper and deeper into you as he grunted with each move, face contorted in a look of sheer bliss.

Your hands were stroking his back, fingers tracings patterns on the soft skin as he collapsed on top of you, burying his face in the crook on your neck, his cock still sheathed within you.

“Good boy.”

You whispered repeatedly, lips pressed to his temple as he caught his breath and tried to slow the rapid thumping of his heart.

“Such a good boy.”

He let out a sigh, nose pressed into the side of your neck as he closed his eyes, allowing himself a few moments to sit in the moment and really feel it. The softness of your body beneath him, the comforting swirl of your fingers on his back, the quiet hum of praise eliciting from your lips. He wanted to live in this moment forever.

You shifted, just slightly, from beneath him, and he immediately jumped into action. He pressed a chaste peck to your lips before pulling out of you slowly, taking a second to appreciate the view of his cum leaking out of you before he made his way to the bathroom, grabbing a warm wet washcloth to clean you up. When he came back, he just had his boxers on, but the toned taupe of his skin still made you blush. His eyes regarded you warmly, reverently, as he wiped away both of your combined arousals from your folds, touch gentle and careful. When he was done, he reached onto the floor to grab his jumper, sitting back up and offering it to you. You smiled graciously, holding your arms in the air like an expectant child as Steven slipped it over your head, pulling your arms through and straightening it down over your body.

God, you looked good in his clothes.

He crawled beside you, nestling in next to you, body curling to fit the curvature of your side. His head found its place in the crook of your neck, the smell of your skin sweet, and he hummed in contentment, relaxing into you. You smiled softly, reaching up to stroke his hair.

“Is... Is this what you’d normally do after sex?”

You asked carefully, hesitantly, afraid to lose the intimacy of the moment. Steven bristled at your words, just slightly, before he sank further into your embrace.

“I mean... in what little experience I have, yeah, I’d say so.”

He offered, voice laced with grogginess, his eyelids drooping. You giggled quietly at his sudden exhaustion, finding the sight quite endearing.

“So you want me to stay, then?”

He lifted his head at your question, worry reflecting in his big brown eyes.

“Did—do you not want to?”

He asked hurriedly, preparing himself for your rejection, but you shook your head defensively.

“No, no! I’m just—this is about you, and what you want out of sex. Do you... I mean, would you expect me to spend the night?”

Steven’s stare was reminiscent of a puppy as he looked up at you, seeming almost lost. Hesitantly, he nodded his head, confirming that he wanted you to stay with him. You smiled softly, pressing a kiss atop his forehead.

“Great—then I’ll stay.”

He relaxed back into you, eyes closing almost immediately, his breaths slowing. After a few minutes, you’d assumed he’d fallen asleep, but then his voice called out softly in the silence.

“M’sorry, by the way.”

Your brows furrowed.

“Sorry? For—for what?”

A long sigh. He buried his face further into your shoulder, hiding himself.

“I didn’t get to—I mean, you weren’t able to—I wanted you to, you know—before me.”

Oh.

His innocent avoidance of vulgarity melted your heart, as it was obviously something he struggled to speak about regularly. You pulled your head back, turning to face him, and he lifted his eyes, cheek smushed against your collarbone. You smiled at him, a hand coming to stroke his cheek.

“Don’t be sorry, Steven. It was perfect.”

You assured, and although he would normally never believe it, something in your eyes was genuine. His lips turned upward at the corners.

“Yeah?”

He asked, excited at the prospect of your validation, and you laughed shortly, smiling wide.

“Yeah.”

With that, Steven let his body meld against yours, finally allowing himself to relax completely and relish in the feeling of being so close to you.

Your mind was already racing with ideas for tomorrow’s trial.

POINTS OF CONTENTION:

- being open to unconditional care without obligation of reciprocation

- feeling adequate and worthy of affections

- accepting praise and compliments without denial or doubt

TREATMENT: - receive without giving - deserving of everything and anything (should not have guilt over being pleasured) - high praise and validation

Twelve hours, that was the deal. You needed at least twelve hours apart before you could begin the second phase of research. Partially to record the data you needed and begin developing a profile, but mostly because you knew that both the boys and you would need time to recuperate before going at it again.

Especially Steven.

Standing outside his apartment door, you were somehow more nervous this time around than you were yesterday. You’d spent the night with him, wrapped in each other’s arms, and you’d left early that morning, promising to return in the evening after the appropriate time had elapsed. You’d showered, eaten, relaxed, but mostly, you’d planned. The key to this study, you’d realized, wasn’t actually the sex at all—it was about challenging the alters, exploiting their vulnerabilities. Exposure therapy.

Sexual interactions are intimate. They are reflective of some of our deep-rooted, unconscious desires, and are significantly related to events that occurred in our childhood that shaped our attachments styles. Certain sexual preferences, turn-ons, fetishes, and kinks, are indicative of different cognitive dispositions. You were trying to figure the boys out—using what they wanted to get to what they needed.

You had predicted Steven’s diagnosis from the start.

When the door to his flat swung inward, his eyes were crinkled at the corners from his smile. He looked soft—rosy pink cheeks, mussed brunette curls, baggy sweats—almost as if he’d just woken up. You returned his grin, slipping past him and into the threshold of his flat.

The door slammed shut behind him, and you turned to him, surprised to be met with a slow, deep, passionate kiss, his lips lingering on yours for just a moment before he pulled away.

You blinked.

“Wow.”

You whispered, slightly reeling. You could feel heat rising to your cheeks. Steven looked down sheepishly.

“Oh, goodness, I don’t—m’sorry, love, I wasn’t really thinking, I just—missed you, s’all.”

He confessed, rubbing at the back of his neck bashfully. His words pulled at your heartstrings and you walked into him, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your chin on his chest so you were looking up at him.

“No, don’t be sorry, just—took me by surprise.”

You smiled.

“Hell of a welcome, though.”

He smiled, letting out a nervous breath.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded, tilting your head upwards to capture his mouth with your own again. He hummed against you, one hand coming to cup the side of your face and the other pulling you in closer by your waist. His tongue swiped at your bottom lip, and you immediately submitted, parting your lips to grant him full access. He started walking backwards towards the couch, but you pulled away to stop him.

“Bed.”

You whispered, your fuck-me eyes almost making him feel faint. He nodded obediently, kissing you again, and changed direction, guiding you to the other side of the flat. The back of Steven’s calves collided with the mattress and he fell backwards into a sitting position onto the bed, but you stayed standing between his parted legs.

“What’re you doin’, love?”

He asked, laughing almost nervously. You just smirked down at him, leaning over to capture his lips once more. You hands were on his shoulders, traveling down his back and around his neck. His found your hips, fingers digging into the flesh there as you continued your passionate making out. Finally, you pulled away, but stayed close, nose still brushing his. His eyes were closed.

“Steven.”

You whispered, and he hummed in acknowledgement, an expression of contentment on his face.

“Are you ready?”

His eyes fluttered open, his gaze focusing in on you. Your lip was pulled between your teeth, as if contemplating something.

“Ready? For... for what, exactly?”

You leaned a bit away from him, standing up to your full height. You looked down at him, stroking his hair comfortingly as you addressed him.

“We’re—I’m gonna try something, okay? But I need you to know that you can stop me at any time. Do you know the stoplight system?”

His big brown eyes looked up at you, and he shook his head.

“It’s a technique for safe words. So if I’m doing something and you want me to stop, you say red. If you need me to slow down, you say yellow, and if you’re doing okay and want me to keep going, you say...”

“Green.”

He finished for you, slightly breathless with anticipation. You nodded down at him proudly.

“Yeah, you’ve got it, good boy.”

You heard the way his breath caught in his throat at your praise, and you pressed a soft, quick kiss to his lips.

“So—are you ready?”

The way he looked at you—eyes filled with such wonder, such reverence, such infatuation—filled you with so much pride and confidence. God, you wanted to ruin this man.

“Gods, love, you’re makin’ me a bit nervous.”

He admitted sheepishly, but his breathing stuttered as you slowly lowered yourself to your knees in between his legs, placing one hand on each thigh and coaxing them farther apart. He was watching you intently.

“Don’t be nervous, sweetheart, it’s okay. But remember—you just tell me if it’s too much, okay?”

He slowly nodded, waiting earnestly for your next move. You reached for the hem of his shirt, lifting it off of him and tossing it to the side. His pants followed shortly thereafter, leaving him only in his boxers. You could see just how hard he already was for you—excitement bubbled in your stomach.

He reached for your shirt, but you tutted at him condescendingly, gently guiding his hands away from you.

“No, sweetheart—this is about you.”

You whispered, returning to your position on your knees in between his legs. He was leaning back, his arms stretched out behind him as he held himself up, watching you. Your fingers were stroking at the skin of his upper thigh, where the leg of his boxers ended. Slowly, your fingers passed over his bulge with a barely-there touch, and he hissed at the ticklish sensation, the muscles of his thighs rippling with strain.

While his head was tilted back and his eyes were closed, you took advantage of his temporary distraction and leaned forward to place opened-mouth kisses on his cock through his boxers. The warm heat from your breath passed over him and he groaned, watching as you finally reached up to remove the final barrier between you.

He shifted his hips up to help, and you pulled his boxers down his legs and off of him completely—now, he was completely naked before you, and you were fully clothed.

Perfect.

You settled back in between his legs, fingers slowly creeping up his inner thigh and towards his weeping length. You looked up at him through your lashes, where he was waiting with bated breath.

“Listen to me—you’re gonna cum whenever you want to, whenever you’re ready, okay, Steven?”

He whimpered in response as your fingers skirted around his base. When he didn’t verbally answer, you stopped.

“Okay, Steven?”

“Yes, yeah, alright, yeah.”

He nodded frantically, acknowledging your instruction, and you rewarded him with a grin.

“Good boy.”

Your fingers finally wrapped around the base of his cock and he sighed, groaning as he watched you lean forward and allow a string of spit to dribble through your lips and down onto his awaiting length. You coated your hand with the slickness and started a slow, steady pace, pumping him with a slight twist of your wrist. He whimpered, particularly sensitive when your thumb stroked at the sensitive head at the end of your long up-and-down strokes.

“Shit, Y/N, oh, Gods...”

He whined, his hips slowly starting to react to your pace by thrusting upward into your fist.

“There you go, Steven, doing so well.”

You praised, speeding up the pace of your hand a bit. His lip was pulled between his teeth, as if focusing intently, and you let your other hand come up to cup at his heavy balls. This earned a low groan from him, his hips jolting with each twist of your wrist.

“Shit, shit, you’ve got to slow down, or else—oh, fuck—”

“It’s okay, sweetheart, I wanna see you let go. It’s okay.”

You whispered sweetly, maintaining your speed but tightening your grip just slightly. The muscles in his abdomen were visibly straining, and you could tell he was close.

“Come on, sweet boy. Cum for me.”

He let out a breathy whine, and you could feel the tightening of his balls as his stomach clenched.

“Oh, fuck, I’m cumming, Y/N, oh, mmmmh—”

You kept pumping him as thick spurts of white spilled from his tip, dripping down the sides of his pretty cock as he throbbed beneath your touch. You allowed his spend to drip over your fingers and knuckles as you continued stroking him, pace slowing just slightly, but not entirely.

His head was thrown back, still reeling with aftershocks, and—fuck.

He jolted when he felt the hot sting of your lips, tongue swirling over the head of his cock, cum still dripping over your hands as your wrist twisted around the base. He cried out, hips thrusting upwards, his legs spasming involuntarily as you began bobbing your head up and down repeatedly, eyes on his face as you watched his face scrunch up in pain.

“Oh, Gods, fuck, fuck, what are you—oh, Gods, s’too much, I can’t, stop, please—”

His hands were fisting at the blankets atop his bed, trying his best not to bury his fingers in your hair as you pulled off of him with a gasp, but your hand kept going.

“You gotta use your words, sweet boy.”

You reminded with a sympathetic tone.

“If you want me to stop, use your words.”

You leaned forward to clean up his release from the sides of his cock, tongue gliding at the same speed as your hand. He was hissing through his teeth, legs still kicking every once in awhile with overstimulation. He wasn’t responding, so maybe you should stop, maybe—

“Fuck, fuck—green! Green, I’m—it’s green.”

He cried, and you wrapped your lips back on his cock, starting to bounce your head once more. The cries that were escaping him were delicious—pathetic whines and whimpers, begging incomprehensibly as you tried to keep his cock hard beneath your touch. It was working, because you could see his abdomen clenching again, and each of his panted breaths was paired with a short grunt.

“Oh, fuck, I don’t—oh, gods, it’s—m’gonna cum again, oh, shit, oooh—”

You pushed down on his cock as far as you could take him, and the second he hit the back of your throat, he felt his orgasm rock through him. His legs curled around your back instinctually, holding you in place as his hips thrusted into your mouth. This was different, though, this—his muscles were contracting, balls tightening, but it wasn’t accompanied by his cum down your throat. You gagged on him and he practically yelped, one hand finally reaching up to grab at your hair. He pulled you off of him, and you gasped for air. Your face was red and there was spit smeared across your cheeks and down your chin. When you looked up at Steven, his eyes were red and there were tears in his eyes. Your hand was still on his cock, pumping slowly. His legs were still twitching.

You stood up, finally releasing him, and he collapsed backwards onto the bed, arms eagle-spread on either side of him, panting. But then he heard the sound of clothes hitting the floor, and when he looked up at you, you were undressing.

He stared at you incredulously, and you smirked at him, discarding your pants and panties simultaneously, leaving you completely bare. You approached the bed again, swinging your leg across Steven's waist to straddle him. You held yourself up just a bit so you were hovering over his cock.

“What, you think we’re done already?”

You teased, sinking down to rub your dripping folds over his still half-hard length. His hips jumped at the feeling.

“No, no, I can’t, not—”

He whimpered, and you leaned forward to shush him, giving him a quick kiss. His bottom lip quivered.

“Such a good boy, Steven—you can give me one more.”

You nodded encouragingly, and he whined, his head pressing back into the mattress with frustration. Your hand reached to stroke at his chest.

“Words, Steven. Say the word, and I’ll stop.”

You offered, suddenly serious, and he took a few deep breaths, tears trailing down his cheeks. When he opened them again, he looked wrecked, but he met your gaze.

“Green.”

It was barely a whisper, but you heard it. You reached down to wrap your fingers around his slick length once more, stroking him to coax him back to full height. He was still mostly hard, as his second orgasm had occurred in the midst of his refractory period, so fairly soon, his tip was prodding at your awaiting entrance and you stifled a mewl.

“There we go, sweet boy. You ready?”

His brows were pinched, but he nodded, and you slowly, carefully sank down on him, burying him into you all the way to the hilt. He was crying now, sitting upright to wrap his arms around you and hold you close against him as you gave him a moment to adjust. His face was pressed into your shoulder.

“Doing so, so well, for me, Steven. Just give me one more, okay? Whenever you want, whenever you’re ready, give it to me.”

You encouraged, lips pressed against his ear, and you slowly lifted up your hips, sinking back down onto him as he whined into you.

“Oooh—oooh—”

“Shh, shh—I know, sweetheart, I know.”

You cooed, cupping the back of his head with one hand as you continued to roll your hips, grinding back and forth against his lap. You were entirely focused on Steven and helping him reach his peak, but still, the way the tip of his cock prodded at something deep inside you was addictive.

“Such a big cock, Steven, fills me up so good.”

He was panting, you could feel his thighs trembling beneath you as you bounced on him, picking up your speed.

“Being such a good boy. Can you give me one more, huh? Think you can?”

He was sobbing, hips jolting every time your weight came to settle back down onto his balls, skin sticky with sweat as you held him close to you.

“Oh, please, please, please, I’m so close, oh fuck—please, I can’t—”

You bounced on him harder, feeling the ripple of tension in his shoulder blades as his body was wracked with sobs.

“Oh, yes, gonna cum, gonna cum, Y/N, gonna—oh, oh, oh fuck, fuck, fuck fuck—”

His teeth sank into the flesh of your shoulder as his cock pulsed within you, and you granted him the kindness of stopping the roll of your hips so he could thrust into you, his seed painting your walls and filling you with warmth. You could feel the hot, wet tears from his eyes against the skin of your shoulder, and you held him close to you, cradling his head against you and rocking him gently.

“Good boy, Steven, so proud of you. Did so, so well for me. My sweet, sweet boy.”

You peppered kisses to the crown of his head, burying your face in his curls as he clung to you desperately, and you stayed there until you felt the drumming of his heart slow and his breathing even out. You slowly, carefully peeled yourself away from him, his softened and sensitive cock slipping out of you as you shakily got to your feet. He whined at the loss of contact, reaching for you, but you shushed him.

“I’ll be right back, okay?”

You followed his lead from yesterday, cleaning yourself up in the bathroom before bringing a damp rag to wipe away the arousal that was drying against his thighs. He hissed at your touch, but you gently cleaned him up, returning to the bathroom again. You considered slipping his jumper on, but for some reason, you felt the need to be as close to Steven as possible. You’d pushed him to his limit, and you wanted to be there for him in every sense of the word.

When you came back to the bed, you gestured for him to crawl up towards the pillows. He obliged, albeit a bit shakily, and you pulled the covers back for him as he curled up beneath them. You joined him immediately after, fitting your body to the curve of his back and wrapping your arms around his warm abdomen. You pressed a few gentle kisses against the back of his neck, the top of his spine, across his shoulders. He hummed in response.

“You feel okay?”

You asked quietly, words muffled in his skin. He scooted away so he could turn to face you. His eyes were red, but there was a glimmer of calmness in them—the high-strung Steven looked truly relaxed.

“Feel floaty.”

You laughed at his drawled words, hands reaching up to cradle his face in your hands. Your thumbs stroked against each of his cheeks gently, soothing.

“You really did so well, Steven. Thank you.”

Your eyes were soft, and you saw the way his lips quirked at the corners at your approval.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to—I mean, if you’d still like to—”

You sent him a glare, and he immediately silenced himself, gaze casting downward and away from you.

“No. This was about you, Steven, about you feeling good and that’s it. It was perfect. I loved it.”

His eyes brightened.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You assured, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. He sighed, shutting his eyes briefly as a warm, fuzzy feeling overtook him.

“S’just—wish I’d gotten the chance to—”

“Next time, Steven, okay?”

You regarded him carefully, tone gentle. His brows furrowed.

“But—my turn’s done. S’just—Marc and Jake, and then—”

“Next time.”

You reiterated, and when your words finally sank in, the smile that lit up his face was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever seen. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him, embracing you tightly like he never wanted to let go.

TAGS: @kezibear143 @gingermous

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sexlapis · 7 months

Text

꩜ mine all mine

❀ : toji x female! reader

. synopsis : toji sees the reader’s rare soft side.

꩜ cw : s4w, short fic grumpy! reader, toji & reader are married, toji & reader have a daughter, singing, lullabies

.. wc : 593

-> a/n : i think this is kinda shit & cringe but we go on 🥁. mitski singing in a genius interview inspired this :)

masterlists

toji has always known that you were not exactly…a ray of sunshine. sure, he isn’t either, but you are something else. you were not at all mean or unkind in any way but you are crazy, grumpy, passionate…a ball of fire some would say.

a resting bitch face, hot-tempered, unapologetic, loud…you weren’t exactly who people think of when asked to name a gentle, soft woman.

with the continuation of your relationship with toji, you mellowed out. after all, to be loved is to be changed. but you still had your moments (everyday) and you were still a little grumpy, passionate, crazy, rageful person. but toji knows how to handle you. and he knows you to be a loving person.

even with your pregnancy and birth of your daughter, you still kept your personality, not letting yourself lose your sense of identity in the trials and tribulations of motherhood.

toji loves his daughter, mina, the new addition to your small family and he’s glad to be at home, caring for the both of you for six months. he’s convinced this is what he wants to spend the rest of his life doing. living with his two favourite girls and making them happy.

but one thing he has noticed since mina had been brought home, is that you always insisted on putting her to sleep, without fail. you would also insist on putting her back to sleep if she woke up crying (much to toji’s disapproval). and somehow, you have her asleep in minutes.

he knows it is normal for mothers to want to be around their child, but rarely would he put mina to sleep. you would ask (demand) him to let you hold little baby mina and tell him he could go back to sleep, which he does after ten minutes of persuasion on your end.

toji knows you’re not telling him something, though he does not think that it's a deep, dark secret.

so one night, after you and toji go to calm a fussing mina and you telling (ordering) him to leave, he stands outside with his ear pressed to the door, listening in.

what he hears surprises him greatly.

you were singing.

grumpy, angry, hot-headed you was singing.

your sweet, soft voice billows throughout the room.

‘cause my love is mine, all mine

i love, my, my, my

nothing in the world belongs to me

but my love, mine, all mine, all mine…

toji hears mina’s crying quieten, hears he little babbles and giggles, and then silence. now toji knows how you get little mina to sleep. you beautiful voice soothes her, lulling her into a deep sleep.

despite what others may think about how ‘unsuitable’ your personality was, you were a good mother, a kind and loving soul, perfectly compatible with your daughter.

toji quickly and quietly returns to your shared room, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping. he didn’t want you to know he overheard your sweet melody. you were like a cat, if he startled you after that intimate moment, you would most definitely get angry and embarrassed and probably never do it again.

you walk into the room, satisfied yet tired. it was 3am and you just wanted to sleep.

toji opens the covers for you to climb into and you curl up in his big frame, laying your head between his chest. he holds you close, kissing your forehead to say goodnight. you’re snoring within two minutes and he admires your stupid drooling face, absentmindedly stroking your temple.

toji will keep this newfound secret to himself.

#toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro fluff #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro x self insert #toji zenin x reader #toji zenin x y/n #toji zenin fluff #toji zenin x you #toji fanfic

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peachedtv · 1 year

Text

•* Jealous Jjk Menˏˋ°

╰┈➤ ❝overview:❞ gojo, geto, yuji, toji, megumi x f!reader (separately)

╰┈➤ ❝ content warnings: ❞ fuckboy!gojo, established relationship for geto yuji megumi, yandere tendencies, dubcon/noncon kissing, toxic, possessiveness, Satoru calls reader a whore in his thoughts, depictions of light violence (not against reader or love interests), suggestive, mentions of sex, reader is kinda stalked by toji ig??,

╰┈➤ ❝wordcount:❞ ~600 words each, total ~3k

Satoru is a confident man, and why wouldn't he be? He knows he's fucking hot, that women fall at his feet, that he alone stands superior to so many.

And so every time he sees a nice, pretty-looking thing, he's got to have her wrapped around his finger (before having them wrapped up in his sheets)

Intentionally or not, he's unapologetically seduced one taken woman after another, fucking them nice and full before he disappears into thin air. He's got a big fat god complex, and he's got it for a good reason.

So when you come around as the newest jujutsu teacher, batting your doe eyes, your outfits hugging your body a little too well, he knows he's got his next target.

And it goes as easily as he expects. Soon, you're laughing with him at his stupid jokes and antics, ruffling his hair when he teases his students too much. You're intoxicating, and he just can't wait to see more of you, to see all of you.

He's so full of himself that he doesn't even notice how close you and your old high school friend are getting. Not until he's walking down the street, smirking to himself at the hushed whispers of how eye-catching he looks, when he sees you.

You're smiling so brightly, so pretty, yet why isn't it with him? He's seen that smile, he thought it was for his eyes alone, so why are you showing it to another guy? What a fucking whore.

He's livid, nearly dropping the bag he was holding from how distracted he became. Why the fuck is he jealous? How is he jealous?

Satoru's never been in love, and he doesn't want to be. He's never cared about a woman in the slightest, heartlessly leaving each and every one of them as tears welled in their eyes. So why does he feel his fist clenching in anger when he sees you smiling with this guy?

He watches you carefully, tilting his chin downward to see you more clearly, without his sunglasses. His hands lazily shove themselves into his pockets, gaze half-lidded with a light scowl

It's not until the guy gently pats you on the head, affectionately messing up your hair does he truly fucking loses it

Before he knows it, the guy's wrist is twisted up in Satoru's hand, fear plastered across the dude's face before he flicks his arm away. Shoving himself between you two.

'What do we have here, huh?'

And yet, even when he's protecting you, you're not even fucking thankful. Going off, asking why he would do that, confusion on your face as you comfort the guy and apologize over and over.

He sees red, harshly grabbing your arm and dragging you away to jujutsu tech. You're yelling out, telling him how much it hurts, yet he doesn't care. Thats not the fucking problem right now, so why don't you shut the fuck up?

Once you two arrive, you're thrown right against a wall, his hand punching the space next to you, rubble crumbling down from the impact. Yet that's not what truly shocked you, it's how his other hand tugged your chin up, his lips pressing right up against you.

You're gasping, and he gladly takes it as an invitation for his tongue to wrap up against yours, kissing you sloppy and rough.

Even though you're scared, even though you're trembling under his hold, you find yourself closing your eyes when he tangles his hand into your hair. Your heart was doing backflips, and you felt a sense of longing when he pulled away.

'That's right,' Satoru smiled, 'You're mine.'

Geto was a calm man. Always speaking respectfully, never losing his cool, and smiling to you so cooly every time you two went out anywhere together. He was the best boyfriend to you, and you couldn't be any happier. He knew that you were his and he was yours. He was stable.

Thus, with his stability, he wasn't bothered when Satoru invited you both to a club. He hadn't slept too well the night before, resting himself on the couch as he waited for you to get ready. Yet when you walked down the stairs, he felt his heart completely go haywire.

He felt his eyes go to every indecent spot someone could think of, and suddenly, the apartment you two shared felt a little too hot. He couldn't keep his eyes off your thighs, off your waist, off your breasts. All of which were hugged so well in that pretty little dress of yours.

'What do you think?' You giggled cheerfully, giving him a full spin before you hugged him tightly. And it wasn't until you asked did he finally remember where you two were going.

He felt an odd burn spiral inside of him. He thought about the perverted guys that would be in the club, thought of his fuckboy best friend, and Geto started to feel a little concerned.

Yet, he didn't show it in the slightest. He trusted you, he knew you were undoubtedly loyal to him, and he was for you. He smiled, immediately getting down to one knee and kissing your hand.

'You are stunning.' He kept his eyes locked on yours, and you couldn't get how hard you blushed and stammered at how you two needed to get going.

Once the two of you had arrived, he felt his walls soar sky-high when he saw Satoru greeting you with a hug that lasted a little too long. He snaked his hand about your waist, kissing the top of your head before lightly greeting Satoru aswell.

Once you had your fill of dancing, he offered to fetch you both some drinks. You smiled to him so pretty, pecking his cheek before he left.

When he came back, he saw some guy had joined your table. The moment the guy had reached out to take your hand, he slammed the drinks onto the table and greeted you affectionately.

Geto sat right next to you, across from the man. The air was so fucking thick, and his gaze was knocked onto the guy. Geto sizing him up as he draped his arm onto your shoulders, pulling you against his chest.

The guy was so intimidated he ended up stuttering some excuse to leave, Geto staring him down the whole time as the guy shuffled his belongings.

'Was that a friend?' He rubbed his palm against your upper arm. You hummed in response, laughing lightly. 'I can tell that you're jealous, silly.' And he simply took another sip out of his drink. 'Hey, common. Of course I would be.' He whined, his hand playing into your hair as he pressed a gentle kiss upon your forehead.

'I want you all to myself.'

Yuji was such a little simp for you. He would just start smiling while you two walked about, smiling on how lucky he was to have a pretty girl like you. He was so happy with you it fluttered his heart, even Sukuna would shit on him for how giddy he was whenever you were around.

Both you and Yuji shared a class, and even at school, he never hesitated to cup your face into his hands and press his lips against yours, sometimes if he felt a bit goofy he'd even slap your ass and run away when you chased him to return the favour. Yuji was in love.

And even though Yuji knew how great of a woman you were, he was never intimidated by it. He appreciated your entire being, and never felt threatened whenever someone was bold enough to hit on you in front of him. He'd simply smile confidently, watching you reject the guy respectfully. 'Thats my girl.'

In the end, Yuji trusted you with everything. He wasn't the type to be jealous at all, at least..that's what he thought.

It was after an especially rough nightmare when his control over Sukuna faltered, tattoos quickly spread over his body as he was forced into the back of his own mind.

Yet there you were, still peacefully sleeping as his little spoon, unaware of the beast that had awaken. Your chest rose and fell so gently, lashes delicately framing your eyes, nightdress hiking up to your thighs just enough. So how could you blame Sukuna when he gently pulled you to sleep on his chest?

When you came to, you were still wrecked with sleepiness. You lazily shuffled up to ‘Yuji’, mumbling a good morning as you gave him a peck on the lips. Yet, you were greatly surprised when a hand tangled into your hair, holding you in place as the kiss turned more sensual. A tongue slipping past your lips, a hand travelling up to rest on your hip.

His hand took your breast, twisting about a nipple as he smiled against you. ‘Yuji’ was being…so bold. Too bold.

You opened your eyes and nearly choked when you noticed the tattoos scattered across your boyfriend’s face. What happened?!

When Yuji regained control, he couldnt help but be all pouty with you. Was your baby boy…jealous?!

Before you knew it, Yuji was so clingy after that. He’d hug you lazily, and with his height and muscle, you couldn’t move the overgrown pulpy off you. Whenever you’d whine about having to get to work, he’d nuzzle his nose into your neck before sluggishly letting you change.

You couldn’t help but giggle as Yuji kept slapping Sukuna’s mouth on his cheek as a form of punishment. But what really amused you was how Yuji would slap your ass before announcing ‘See that, Sukuna? You haven’t had that with Y/N before, huh? Total score!’

Yet, everytime after that morning, you noticed Yuji become much too flustered whenever you came near. Soon enough, you saw how his eyes travelled back between the palm of his hand and your breast—and you put two and two together. He’d never felt up your tits!

You wanted to soothe Yuji’s perverted little mind. So during the next makeout session, you took his hand and pressed it right up onto your boobs. Yuji’s eyes shot open but you didn’t take it to stop the kiss, instead, laughing to yourself as you felt his curious hands give a light squeeze.

After that day, Yuji didn’t feel jealous in the slightest. He’d randomly be standing about before giggling to himself about your ‘godly tities’

God, you’ve fallen in love with a total goof.

Ever since Toji’s wife had passed, he couldn’t help the way his morality shattered about him. He missed her. He missed her so fucking much.

Every now and then, his memory would fade back to when his son was first born, his wife gently holding the child in her arms, head tilted to the side as she cooed and giggled.

And with that repeated memory, came even more anger when he realized his wife was gone.

He’d take out his anger on one Jujutsu Sorcerer after another, eventually building his reputation as a renouned assasin. So he wasn’t phased when someone offered him a fat stack of cash in return for your life.

At first, Toji didn’t care. He was even happy about it, sharpening his blade while imagining all the casinos and expensive alcohol he could purchase after his payout. He couldn’t care less about the sentimental value of your life, he was paid for a job and he’d be more than happy to soothe his bloodlust for the day.

So, when he cornered you into an alleyway, sinking a blade down into your gut, he’d officially secured his paycheck. While he nonchalantly walked over to you, you stumbled away from him in a panic. It hurt, it really did hurt. And you tried your best to defend yourself as you ran the best you could out the alleyway.

God, you were such a boring fight, he thought. But it wasnt until he realized why you had run out the alley.

In the near street, a little boy bad ran into the incoming traffic after his ball. You yelled out to the child, using your cursed technique to slow the car the best you could before you swooped the boy up into your arms.

You panted heavily, the blood oozing from your stomach wiping itself onto the boy’s clothes. But you did your best to pat the kid’s head, smiling to him and soothing his racing nerves. You were so…motherly. Caring. Sweet. You didn’t care for the chance you had to hitch a ride on the roof of that car, to run away from your inpending death.

You went out of your way to save and cradle this stranger’s child, and Toji saw a part of your heart that softened his own.

When you turned around, gaze stiffening as you prepared for your final moments—he was gone. No where to be seen. But he wasn’t gone for long.

Soon, he was everywhere you went. God, did this guy not have a life? Was he taunting you before killing you off? Every morning he’d be on the same route of your jog. He’d be sitting at your favorite cafe, he’d be whistling at the grocery store as you clicked your tongue in annoyance.

But what really surprised you was how he’d beat up any catcallers that harrassed you, how he’d pick up your keys if you happened to drop them, how he’d accidentally tap his card when you tried paying for your coffee. You were so confused with this man.

It wasn’t long until you softened up to him too, you both would talk lightly during every morning run, buy coffee together, and he’d walk you to work.

So no duh you said yes when he asked you to dinner

He was so giddy as he walked to the restaurant you chose, stopping outside the enterance and adjusting his tie in the reflective glass before stepping in. But he became confused when you were on the brink of tears from laughing at something.

He realized that at those one way windows…he had adjusted his tie and took deep breaths right infront of you…without him knowing a crumb of it. You thought that was so cute.

The night was great, until it became a little…awkward. And Toji noticed your discomfort, asking you what was wrong.

‘The waiter, he’s my ex.’ Toji took your hand reassuringly, telling you he’d be sure to keep the bastard in check.

But when the end of the dinner came, and your ex had attached a note to your bill with his new number and a pathetic ‘You’re so sexy, call me.’ Toji couldn’t keep still anymore.

He stood right up, walking over to your ex as the guy confidently strided away, yet all that radiating glory washed away with Toji grabbing the dude’s collar and slamming him into the wall.

‘Don’t fuck with me. You’ve long lost her.’

The guy was shaking, muttering nonsensical apologies. But it wasn’t until you stepped in and asked Toji to let the loser go, that he wasn’t worth it, did Toji drop the guy into the floor.

That didn’t stop him from intimidating the fuck out of the staff and owner, eventually getting your ex fired and your dinner being complimentary.

Toji was still restless. He wanted your night to be perfect, so he dragged you two out to a bar for some light drinks to make up for the whole drama at the restaurant.

And boy was he such a gentleman. Opening doors, kissing your hand lightly, gently taking your hair to his hand—he was such a dream.

By the end of the night, you couldn’t help it when both the wisps of alcohol and your fluttering heart meekly asked for the two of you to be official. Toji merely smirked to you, grabbing hold of your chin and kissing you dominantly before whispering down to you.

‘Let’s make it official, then. Ms. Zen’in.’

Megumi is so gentle with you, you can’t get over how much he makes your heart flutter.

Ever since you two got together, he’d meekly hold your hand like a lost little kid whenever you guys went out, a fat blush dusted all over his face when you’d give him a reassuring squeeze to tell him you don’t mind holding hands.

You loved him so much, and he loved you just so much more. Everytime he saw you he’d feel his eyes widen and heart stop, as though the world around would come to a halt just for you.

But this time, his heart stopped for a different reason.

When Gojo had decided to engage in team-mock-battles, Megumi felt dropped down when he saw you guys weren’t on the same team. You were paired with Yuji, while he was with Nobara.

Megumi knows you’re strong, but he just can’t keep himself together at the thought of trying to take you down with his demon dogs—so he decides to target Yuji instead.

It wasn’t until his dog lurged forward, jaw ready to bite right onto Yuji, did you tackle your partner out of harms way. Immediately falling right in top of him. You weren’t embarrassed, purely focused on the mission as you scrambled to get up and drag Yuji by the wrist to safer ground. But that didn’t stop the pang in Megumi’s chest seeing you hold someone else.

Yes, he knows its a mock battle, and he knows in his heart that you and Yuji would never betray him. But he can’t help but become a little more aggressive in his attacks to Itadori for the rest of the day.

When the battle ended, Megumi was panting heavily, bangs stuck to his forehead from the sweat, as he relinquished his cursed spirits. Gojo pat his back.

‘I haven’t seen you so engaged in a while. I wonder what triggered you!’ He teased Megumi, they both knew the answer, and Megumi knew the blindfolded bastard was just messing with him. He slapped Gojo’s hand away and was about to retort something back when you called out to him.

You ran to him as fast as you could, tackling Megumi into the floor with you on top of him. In that moment, Megumi saw the difference first-hand.

While you tackled Yuji with a panicked expression before scrambling up without any word—with Megumi, he noticed how you held the back of his head up to not hit it against the ground. He noticed how your other hand rested on his chest, petting him reassuringly. He saw that glint in your eyes, the glint of absolute love that resembled how he looked at you with so much endearment.

What he had with you doesn’t compare to anything else in the world. Megumi chastised himself mentally for ever getting jealous.

‘I love you, you know that? I love you so, so much.’

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