#//you shot off your mouth AND LOOK WHERE IT GOT YOU!

[creamflix]

cw: mentions of sex & reader menstruating, nothing detailed or explicit [for nsfw].

read part one here

three years.

three whole years of loving each other in your own chaotic way.

but when the anniversary actually rolled around, you felt like someone had hit the reset button on your social skills. standing in the kitchen that morning, you blurted out, “it’s our anniversary. we’ve been together for a long time,” as if that wasn’t blatantly obvious.

sukuna blinked at you from where he was tying his tie, raising an eyebrow like he couldn’t believe what just came out of your mouth.

“no shit,” he deadpanned, though his lips twitched like he was holding back a smirk.

you huffed, crossing your arms. “i’m just saying. it’s... a big deal, y’know?”

“yeah, yeah,” he muttered, brushing past you to grab his keys, but you caught the way his gaze lingered for a moment longer than usual.

truthfully, neither of you were handling it well. anniversaries weren’t exactly your forte. it wasn’t like you didn’t say “i love you” to each other, but those words carried weight between the two of you — too much to just toss around casually.

and now, faced with the unspoken expectation to do something, both of you were stumbling like teenagers on a first date.

sukuna spent the entire morning at work distracted, fidgeting with his pen and snapping at his coworkers more than usual.

am i supposed to plan something? he thought. i was the one who proposed, does that mean it’s my job? the pressure was getting to him.

finally, he decided to keep it simple: your favorite takeout from university, a nostalgic callback to the start of everything.

meanwhile, you spent your day spiraling in a completely different direction. romantic gestures weren’t exactly your specialty, but the thought of doing nothing felt worse.

so, you left work early and dove into something utterly out of character — a full-on romantic dinner, complete with candles, music, and a dish you’d only ever made once before.

by the time the evening rolled around, both of you were a mess. sukuna trudged through the door first, looking disheveled in his wrinkled work clothes, seven plastic bags in hand, each one stuffed with takeout containers. he didn’t even bother taking off his shoes before stepping into the living room.

“yo, i got —” he started, but froze mid-sentence when he saw you.

you were standing by the dining table, decked out in an outfit that screamed special occasion, with your hair done and everything. the table was set like something out of a movie: a full spread of homemade dishes, soft lighting from the candles, and an awkward tension hanging in the air because, honestly, what the hell were the two of you doing?

“...what the fuck,” sukuna finally said, his voice soft with something you couldn’t quite place.

you shrugged, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “i figured... i’d try something different.”

he stared at you for a beat, then down at the bags in his hands, then back at you. “you made all this?”

“yeah.” you shifted on your feet. “thought it’d be nice. but uh, if you don’t wanna eat it, we can always —”

“shut up,” he cut you off, a grin breaking across his face. “you’re insane, you know that?”

“takes one to know one,” you shot back, but your cheeks were burning.

he dropped the bags unceremoniously on the counter and crossed the room in a few quick strides. before you could say anything else, his arms were around you, pulling you into a hug that was somehow both firm and gentle.

“you’re ridiculous,” he mumbled against your hair. “but you’re my ridiculous.”

you rolled your eyes but melted into his embrace. “yeah, yeah. happy anniversary, jerk.”

he laughed, low and genuine, and for a moment, the awkwardness faded. the food didn’t matter. the plans didn’t matter. just being here, in this little apartment you called home, with him holding you like the world didn’t exist outside these walls — that was enough.

even after three years together, the idea of using the typical, sugary nicknames made you both cringe harder than nails on a chalkboard. no “babe,” no “sweetheart,” no “love.” for some reason, it just didn’t fit.

instead, you’d toss out things like “dude,” “bro,” or, on particularly annoying days, “boy,” just to get under his skin. the way sukuna’s eye would twitch every time you called him that? priceless.

but sukuna wasn’t innocent, either. his repertoire of names for you was a mix of creative insults and borderline threats, delivered with just enough affection to remind you that he didn’t actually mean them.

“woman,” “brat,” “shit for brains” — those were the classics. and when he was in an especially foul mood? let’s just say the creativity really started flowing.

the funniest part? even in public, neither of you switched it up. at restaurants, when a waiter would ask for your order, you’d say, “he’ll have the steak,” and sukuna would fire back with, “she’ll take the fish,” like it was the most natural thing in the world.

no “my love” or “my darling.” just “he” and “she,” like a couple of reluctant coworkers at a team lunch.

the one time you tried something different, it didn’t end well.

“what’ll it be, babe?” you’d asked one night, trying to suppress a grin as you glanced at him over the menu.

sukuna lowered his menu just enough to shoot you a look so disgusted you swore you could taste lemons in the air. “what the hell did you just call me?”

“babe,” you repeated, forcing the word out like it physically pained you.

he grimaced, his nose wrinkling. “don’t ever do that again.”

you’d burst out laughing, and from that moment on, the unwritten rule was solidified: no “cute” nicknames. not unless you wanted to ruin the meal for both of you.

and yet, despite all of that, there were moments when the truth slipped through. when you were out with friends, you’d proudly call him “my man,” as if daring anyone to challenge the claim.

and sukuna wasn’t any better — he’d talk about you to his buddies like you were the most important person in the world, casually dropping “my lady” into conversations like it was nothing.

but back home? it was business as usual. “yo, dude,” you’d yell from the kitchen. “did you put the laundry in the dryer?”

“hell nah, woman,” he’d yell back. “do it yourself.”

sure, it wasn’t the most conventional display of affection, but it was yours. no sickly sweet terms of endearment, no over-the-top romantic gestures — just you and sukuna, trading insults and sharing a love that, in its own weird way, felt perfect. would you trade it?

absolutely not.

you and sukuna had never been the type to ooze affection. no heartfelt “good lucks” or mushy “come home soon” texts.

instead, your love language was passive-aggressive threats with just enough bite to keep things interesting.

“don’t fuck it up,” he’d said before your job interview, leaning casually against the counter with a smirk that hid the way his eyes lingered on you a second longer than usual.

“look who’s talking,” you shot back, adjusting your jacket in the mirror. “aren’t you the guy who choked on his coffee before his last one?”

“watch it, brat,” he muttered, grabbing his keys, but his lips twitched.

underneath the snark, though, there was always something unspoken. a silent, shared understanding that you were rooting for each other, even if neither of you would ever outright say it. and during that waiting period — the nerve-wracking limbo between interviews and callbacks — the usual jabs quieted.

it wasn’t a truce, exactly, but you both found yourself going easier on each other. sukuna would make sure you had coffee in the mornings, leaving it on the counter without a word. and you’d restock his energy drinks without him asking, slipping them into the fridge while he wasn’t looking.

when the calls finally came, first for you and then for him, the celebration was as understated as your relationship. no grand hugs or squeals of excitement — just a knowing look exchanged from across the room, a rare, genuine smile curving both your lips.

“guess you didn’t screw it up,” he teased as you set your phone down, but his voice was softer than usual, the edges rounded out by pride.

“guess you didn’t either,” you replied, tossing the comment back at him with a grin.

and maybe — just maybe — there was a fleeting kiss in the mix. something quick and almost shy, as if lingering too long might make the moment too heavy.

“don’t think this means you’re off the hook,” he muttered afterward, trying to play it cool, though his hand rested on your waist a beat longer than necessary.

“wouldn’t dream of it,” you quipped, leaning back just enough to meet his gaze.

this was just the start, the first step in what would be your new life together. and even if it wasn’t wrapped up in the typical trappings of romance, it felt right. because with sukuna, love was never about the obvious.

it was in the things left unsaid, the quiet gestures, and the stubborn refusal to admit just how much you cared — though, deep down, you both knew the truth.

you still remembered the first time sukuna kissed you.

it wasn’t some grand romantic setup or a scene out of a cheesy romance flick — it was just… sukuna. blunt, stubborn, and perfectly him.

it was after graduation, a so-called “first date,” though neither of you called it that. he had taken you to the same drive-in you’d always gone to during halloween, the one with the faded screen and popcorn that tasted more like cardboard than butter.

but this time, they weren’t showing the usual campy horror flicks you two loved to make fun of. no, this time it was la la land.

you’d raised an eyebrow when he mentioned it. “really? la la land?”

“what? you’re too good for musicals now?” he shot back, pulling into the lot like he wasn’t questioning himself at all. but you caught the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened just a bit, like he was bracing for you to laugh at him.

“no, just didn’t know you had a thing for jazz hands,” you teased, grinning when his scowl deepened.

the movie started, but naturally, the two of you barely made it through the first twenty minutes without bickering. the popcorn bag was snatched back and forth between you, each accusing the other of hogging all the caramel-coated pieces.

“you’re eating all the good ones!” you snapped, clutching the bag protectively.

“you’re imagining shit, woman,” sukuna retorted, leaning over to yank it back.

in the heat of the squabble, with your faces inches apart and insults ready to fly, he kissed you. just leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, all sharp and sudden, like he had decided there was no other way to shut you up.

you froze, your brain short-circuiting for half a second, before he pulled away with a smirk that made your blood boil and your heart race all at once.

“what the hell was that?” you demanded, staring at him.

“you were being annoying,” he said, like that was the most logical explanation in the world. but his smug expression faltered just a little when you glared at him, lips parted like you were about to really let him have it.

“you don’t just kiss someone and then pull away like that, you asshole,” you huffed. and before he could reply, you grabbed him by the collar and kissed him back, pouring every bit of your irritation — and maybe a little something else — into it.

the second kiss was different. softer, slower, and entirely mutual. neither of you pulled back this time, and when you finally did, both of you were slightly breathless.

“still annoying,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile.

“still an asshole,” you shot back, crossing your arms, though your cheeks burned so hot you were glad for the darkness of the car.

after that, there wasn’t much attention paid to the movie. there was a lot more kissing, though, a lot more bantering between each one. and while neither of you would ever admit it, kissing him made you feel like a stupid, giddy teenager. like you wanted to kick your feet in the air and giggle, even if the thought made you cringe internally.

it was ridiculous, it was messy, and it was entirely the two of you. just the way you liked it.

your relationship with sukuna had always been a clash of opposites.

back in your college days, he was infamous for his revolving door of women — never the same face twice, always someone new on his arm. sukuna, the loud, reckless heartthrob who could charm his way into anyone’s bed.

and then there was you: exclusive, reserved, someone who didn’t let just anyone close enough to even try. while sukuna’s name was tossed around in gossip, yours carried a quiet weight, a mix of intrigue and admiration.

it wasn’t that you were some saint — far from it. you weren’t a stranger to sex, but you didn’t hand it out like candy at a parade. your friends teased you about your “dry spells,” but you’d always brushed it off. you had standards, that was all.

meanwhile, sukuna? standards weren’t exactly his thing, or so it seemed.

so, when the two of you somehow transitioned from bickering frenemies to a full-fledged couple, there was an unspoken tension between your histories. you knew who he was, what he’d done, and he knew exactly how tightly you held your walls up. still, you worked together, two stubborn halves of something that somehow clicked.

until one night, when things heated up unexpectedly.

it started innocent enough — if “innocent” was a word that could ever describe sukuna. a clumsy makeout session in his dimly lit apartment, his hands tangled in your hair, your breath mingling with his as he pressed you against the couch. it wasn’t your first kiss, far from it, but this one was different. there was a weight to it, a hunger neither of you had acknowledged until now.

“you’re terrible at this,” you muttered against his lips, though your shaky breath betrayed you.

“yeah?” he shot back, his voice low, teasing. “seems like you’re still here, so what does that say about you?”

you rolled your eyes, but before you could quip back, he kissed you again, harder this time. his hands moved to your waist, fingers tracing the curve of your hips, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

it escalated quickly, too quickly. his mouth moved to your neck, and you felt the scrape of his teeth against your skin. a shiver ran through you, your hands gripping his shirt to ground yourself. this was sukuna — your sukuna — and yet, this was a side of him you hadn’t faced before.

you froze slightly when his hands wandered lower, testing the waters. for a split second, you weren’t sure what to do.

your mind raced with contradictions: the part of you that wanted to pull him closer, to let yourself get lost in him, and the other part that wanted to smack his hand away and call him out for moving too fast.

“seriously?” you blurted, breaking the kiss and glaring at him. “do you ever not act like a horndog?”

he smirked, cocky as ever, though his hands eased up. “what? you didn’t seem to mind a second ago.”

“maybe because i was too distracted by your terrible kissing technique,” you shot back, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed you.

“you’re full of shit,” he said, leaning back with an exaggerated groan. but there was something softer in his gaze, a flicker of hesitation that wasn’t usually there.

“look, if you’re not into it, just say so. i’m not gonna —”

“shut up, sukuna,” you interrupted, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him back down. your lips crashed against his, and this time, there was no hesitation.

it was messy, passionate, a clash of teeth and tongues that left you both breathless. every time you thought you’d had enough, he’d kiss you in a way that made your head spin, and you’d find yourself pulling him closer all over again.

maybe you’d slap him later for being an overconfident ass, but for now? for now, you let yourself get lost in him, in the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world he’d ever want. and, as much as you hated to admit it, you didn’t regret a second of it.

sex with sukuna was its own breed of unique — a stark contrast to the wild stories he carried in his history. where you once expected a whirlwind of dominance and filthy words, what you got was something raw and unexpectedly tender, the kind of connection that made your chest ache in the best way. it wasn’t the slow, candlelit romance people wrote songs about, and it wasn’t some grand kink-fueled adventure. it was quiet, comfortable, and somehow, so deeply you two.

sukuna had his reputation, sure. tattoos, a sharp tongue, and an aura that practically screamed i don’t care about your feelings. in his youth, you imagined he’d been the kind of guy who thrived on power plays in the bedroom, leaving women weak-kneed and breathless for all the wrong reasons. hell, he probably relished in it, back in the day.

but that wasn’t what you got.

instead, he was gruff, but not in the way you’d expect. it was the kind of gruffness that came with holding back, with trying to temper himself into someone who could make you feel safe and seen. when he leaned over you, his usual arrogance was softened by something quieter, something he didn’t say out loud but you could feel in the way his hands traced over your skin.

“this okay?” he’d grumble, his voice low, trying to sound nonchalant, but you caught the way his eyes searched your face for any hesitation.

you’d nod, a little too bashful to form words, and he’d pause, eyebrows raising just slightly. “i asked if it was fine, not if you could sit there like a scared rabbit.”

“sukuna,” you’d groan, slapping his shoulder. but your face would heat up anyway, and he’d smirk like the cocky ass he was, though his hands stayed steady, patient.

if you didn’t answer quickly enough, he’d ask again, his actions slowing to a near halt. “hey,” he’d say, leaning down just enough so his lips brushed your ear, “you gonna tell me, or do I have to stop?”

“don’t stop,” you’d finally mutter, voice barely above a whisper, and he’d let out the most obnoxious chuckle, something halfway between pride and amusement.

“thought so,” he’d say smugly, resuming his movements — but gentler than his tone suggested, always so much gentler. it wasn’t about control or ego, though you knew he liked to push you just enough to make you squirm. no, it was about making sure you were there with him every step of the way.

it was new, this side of him that catered to you, the way he’d catch your gaze when he thought you were feeling shy or uncertain. sometimes, you wanted to throttle him for the way he’d tease you, like it was a sport. other times, you wanted to melt into him for the way his hands would guide you, steady and secure, like he had all the time in the world for you and no one else.

but your favorite part? it was always the aftercare.

where sukuna usually thrived on chaos and crudeness, after sex, he was different. softer, quieter, almost dazed. he’d hold you like he was afraid you’d slip away, his arms wrapped around you a little tighter than usual.

“you good?” he’d ask, his voice gruff but quiet.

you’d nod, and he’d huff, pressing his chin to your head. “drink some water,” he’d grumble, even as he was already reaching for the glass on the nightstand.

he wouldn’t joke as much, at least not in the way that made you want to kick him. instead, he’d run his fingers absentmindedly through your hair, muttering about how you’d better not go passing out on him. he’d press lazy, almost featherlight kisses to your temple, your cheek, anywhere he could reach without moving too much.

and if you curled closer to him, burying your face in his chest, he wouldn’t say anything. he’d just hold you tighter, his fingers tracing slow patterns on your back, grounding both of you in the moment.

sometimes, you’d laugh to yourself, thinking about how this man — this loud, sharp-edged, unapologetically rough man — had turned into a vanilla sap just for you. and other times, you’d bite your lip and blush at the thought that he was yours. completely and utterly yours.

you’d never admit it out loud, but the way he took care of you? the way he toned down all the bravado and just was with you? it made you love him more than words could ever say.

the first real fight wasn’t the playful sparring you and sukuna usually indulged in. it wasn’t the sarcastic quips or half-serious insults that usually left both of you laughing by the end. this time, it was different.

the argument started small, something inconsequential, but quickly spiraled into a storm of raised voices and sharp words. sukuna’s tone was harsh, and your stubbornness was just as sharp. you were used to challenging each other, but this felt heavier, like neither of you was willing to back down.

“you’re not even listening to me!” you snapped, your voice breaking in frustration.

“yeah? and you’re so damn perfect at communicating?” sukuna shot back, his words biting.

the tension was suffocating, the air in your shared apartment thick with unresolved emotions.

and then it happened — he grabbed his jacket, slammed the door, and left.

the sound of the door shutting echoed in your ears, and you froze, your chest tight. sukuna didn’t just leave. not like this.

he left home.

it wasn’t just an apartment. it was the place where you built something together, where you shared quiet mornings and loud, chaotic evenings. it was the place that held laughter, tears, and everything in between.

and now it felt unbearably empty.

you wanted to scream, to throw something, to lash out at the ache in your chest. but you knew that chasing him down with your usual fire would only pour gasoline on the flames. so you swallowed your pride, slipped on your fuzzy slippers, and bolted out the door.

you spotted him a few blocks down, his tall figure unmistakable even under the dim streetlights. his pace was fast, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. he looked pissed, but there was something about the way his shoulders hunched slightly that made your heart clench.

“sukuna!” you called, your voice louder than you intended.

he didn’t stop.

“dammit, will you stop walking for one second?” you yelled again, jogging to catch up to him.

when he finally turned around, his expression was a mixture of anger and surprise. “what the hell are you doing?” he asked, eyes narrowing. “it’s late.”

“yeah, and whose fault is that?” you shot back, before taking a deep breath. no, not this time. no more yelling.

“look,” you started, your voice softer now, though your chest was still heaving from the sprint.

“i’m sorry. i mean it. not the sarcastic, biting kind of sorry. a real one. i shouldn’t have — ” you paused, struggling to find the right words. “i shouldn’t have made it about winning. i was wrong.”

sukuna stared at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. the silence stretched, and you felt the sting of tears prick at your eyes.

“...dammit,” he muttered, his shoulders dropping. “i was a dick too.”

you blinked, surprised. sukuna rarely apologized, and when he did, it was never straightforward.

“yeah, you were,” you replied, a small, tentative smile creeping onto your face.

he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “you don’t make this easy, you know that?”

“neither do you,” you shot back, stepping closer.

he sighed, his hands leaving his pockets to pull you into a hug that was as awkward as it was comforting. “you’re lucky i didn’t get too far,” he grumbled into your hair.

“you’re lucky i chased after you,” you countered, though you clung to him just as tightly.

and just like that, the tension broke. it wasn’t perfect — there were still things to talk about, wounds to mend — but in that moment, wrapped in each other’s arms on a dimly lit street, you both knew this was home.

sukuna would never say it outright — hell, he’d rather swallow nails than admit it — but he had your back when it came to that time of the month.

he tracked your cycle like a tactical mission, not because he was obsessed with you or anything (his words), but because it was easier to prepare than to deal with the aftermath of being caught off guard.

“what, you think i like listening to you whine about not having your stupid chocolate?” he’d grumble, dumping a bag of your favorite snacks onto the counter with an air of exaggerated suffering. but there was no mistaking the care behind the gesture, no matter how much he tried to play it off.

medicines? stocked. pads and tampons? stocked. heating pads? ready to go. hell, he even had a backup stash of painkillers tucked into his drawer at work in case you ran out at home.

he wasn’t perfect, of course. sukuna had zero patience when you were in one of your mood swings, snapping at him for breathing too loudly or sitting “wrong.” but he’d weather it, rolling his eyes and muttering under his breath.

“you done yelling at me, or you wanna go another round?” he’d ask, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe.

but the moment you started crying — whether it was over a sad commercial or pure frustration — his entire demeanor shifted.

“hey, hey, cut that out,” he’d say, pulling you into his chest despite his grumbling. “you’re not allowed to cry over dumb shit while i’m around, alright? i’ll give you something real to cry about.”

when you were touch-starved, he’d let you cling to him, even if it meant sitting through a three-hour movie you’d already watched ten times. when you were touch-repulsed, he’d keep his distance but stay close enough to hand you water or make sure you were comfortable.

and when you were too tired to shower, he’d step in without hesitation, grumbling all the while. “can’t believe i’m doing this,” he’d mutter as he adjusted the water temperature and gently washed your hair. “you owe me a massage or something after this.”

he’d change the bedsheets without complaint, tossing you one of his oversized shirts afterward. “don’t stretch it out, or i’ll kick your ass,” he’d say, but you both knew he didn’t mean it. he even kept a corner of his closet stocked with clothes he didn’t mind you ruining — shirts and sweatpants that were practically yours at this point, though he’d never admit it.

“don’t get used to this,” he’d say, watching as you shuffled into the living room in his clothes, burritoed in a blanket. but the way his gaze softened as you curled up on the couch, finally comfortable, betrayed him.

for all his rough edges, sukuna handled you with a quiet kind of love — grumbling, sarcastic, but steady. he might call it “dealing with your bullshit,” but deep down, you both knew better.

it wasn’t a night you’d easily forget — not because of the celebration itself, but because of what came out of your mouth when you were deep into a rum-induced haze.

the bar was alive with the thrum of music and the clang of glasses, laughter and shouting merging into a chaotic symphony that somehow suited you and sukuna. the two of you had ridden in on bikes, looking like a mismatched pair of rebels — him towering, tatted, and menacing, and you just as fierce but smaller, less overtly intimidating.

"you know," sukuna drawled, leaning against the bar with a lazy grin that had been charming women for years, “if you weren’t already mine, i’d be trying to pick you up right now.”

you rolled your eyes, though your own grin betrayed how much you enjoyed the rare moment of his playful charm. “you’re an idiot,” you shot back, taking another shot and wincing as it burned down your throat.

but then, in the lull between his next teasing remark, you blurted it out. “i love you.”

the words landed like a hammer.

sukuna froze, the smirk slipping from his face. the rowdy atmosphere of the bar seemed to fade into static as he stared at you, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly, as if he was trying to gauge whether or not he’d heard you correctly.

"what?" he asked, voice lower than usual, his usual bravado stripped away.

you blinked at him, too tipsy to care about the weight of what you just said. “i love you, stupid. don’t make me say it again.”

and just like that, it was as if someone had pulled the rug out from under him. sukuna, the guy who had once been a whirlwind of hookups and no-strings-attached chaos, was sober in an instant. not because he didn’t like what he heard — no, it was the opposite. it was because those words had been lodged somewhere deep inside him, waiting for the right moment to claw their way out, even if he refused to admit it to himself.

he didn’t say anything right away. instead, he paid the tab, his movements oddly methodical, and threw his leather jacket over your shoulders.

“c’mon,” he muttered, voice gruff as he guided you to the door.

“what’s the rush?” you slurred, stumbling slightly as he helped you onto the bike.

“the rush is you’re drunk and saying shit you don’t mean,” he snapped, though his tone lacked its usual bite.

you didn’t protest after that, leaning into him as he drove the two of you home. by the time you reached the apartment, he was practically hauling you inside, grumbling about how you were a lightweight.

as he set you down on the couch and pulled a blanket over you, the words escaped him, unbidden and softer than he’d have liked.

“i love you too, idiot.”

he thought you were out cold, your breathing slow and even. but the faintest smile tugged at your lips, and a quiet mumble escaped you:

“heard that.”

he froze, a flush creeping up his neck. “shut up and go to sleep,” he barked, but the gentleness with which he tucked you in betrayed him.

you didn’t say anything else, and neither did he, but the air between you felt lighter, warmer. it wasn’t perfect or grand, but it was yours — messy, stubborn, and just enough.

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[elseishollow]

✶┈ GOOD GRIEF — FIYERO TIGELAAR

synopsis: fiyero seeks refuge from a rather dull event at Shiz, but you don’t find him charming, do you?

pairings: movie!fiyero tigelaar x gn!reader

warnings: nothing but fluff. relationship is… undefined? yeah, we’ll go with that. this is entirely going off the movie by the way. this was made on a whim and I had no idea where this was actually going, so be nice.

The room was alive with the sound of muffled chatter, the scrape of chairs on wood, and the faint clatter of cutlery. You stood at the far end of the hall, leaning against a tall window frame, fiddling idly with the stem of your glass. The evening sun painted the room in warm hues, but your peace was interrupted when you felt an unmistakable presence too close to your side.

“Ah, there you are,” Fiyero announced as if he’d been searching for hours, though he couldn’t have missed you. The room wasn’t that big. “I need your help. Immediate help. Dire circumstances.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Dire? What did you do this time?”

He stepped closer, his hands fluttering mid-air. “Absolutely nothing. Yet. Which is precisely the problem. I have no idea what they’re talking about at my table, but they keep looking at me as if I’m meant to contribute something… intellectual.”

You bit back a laugh, tucking it behind a smirk. “And you came to me because…?”

He tilted his head, feigning an innocent expression. “Because you’re clever. And you’ve got that look about you. People believe you when you talk.” His hand waved vaguely in the direction of your face, and his lips curled into a teasing grin. “You know, all… knowing and intimidating.”

You gave a dry laugh, shaking your head. “So, what? You want me to save you from the unbearable burden of conversation?”

“Exactly.” He stepped even closer, now entirely invading your space. He smelled faintly of warm spices and fresh air, like he’d been wandering outside before arriving. “Just say something about, I don’t know, books? Politics? Trees? I’ll nod along like I’ve had an epiphany, and they’ll think I’ve got layers.”

Your lips twitched. “You? Layers?”

“Rude.” He placed a hand dramatically over his heart, though his grin only widened. “I do have layers. You just need to dig. Maybe with a small shovel.”

You rolled your eyes, setting your glass down on the nearby table. “If I help you, will you stop hovering?”

“Am I hovering?” he asked, his voice drenched in mock confusion.

“Yes. Always.” You nudged him lightly in the chest with your hand, but he didn’t move back. Instead, he caught your wrist in his hand, a glint of mischief flickering in his eyes.

“See, that’s the problem with you,” he said, his thumb brushing against the inside of your wrist as if entirely unaware of the intimacy of the gesture. “You act all exasperated, but deep down, you like having me around. Admit it.”

“I will never admit that,” you shot back, yanking your wrist free, though your voice lacked conviction.

He laughed. a soft, rich sound that somehow made the world feel a little lighter. “That’s alright. I’ll stick around until you do.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Fiyero, go back to your table before someone notices you’ve disappeared.”

“They probably think I’ve wandered off to study bark or something,” he said, shrugging. Then, leaning in, close enough that you could see the specks of gold in his eyes, he added, “Which, honestly, sounds far more interesting than this dinner.” His eyes flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes, a slight smile tugging at his mouth.

He was very close now, so close that you could feel the heat of him, his breath just barely brushing your skin. You weren’t sure if you wanted to look away or stay right where you are. And for a moment, you almost asked him what he meant. But before you could, he leaned back and straightened. Now fully smiling like knew exactly what he was doing and grabbed the glass you’d abandoned moments ago.

"Anyway," he said casually, “I’m stealing this,” raising it as if to toast you. “Because you’ve left me no choice.”

You blinked, lips parted slightly in disbelief and amusement, your hands unconsciously lifting as if to gesture at the entire situation.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, watching as he sauntered back to his table, moving through chairs with a lack of spatial awareness that made several people flinch and move their drinks out of harm’s way.

Just before he sat down, he turned and shot you a lopsided grin, raising your glass in a silent, triumphant toast.

And against your better judgment, you found yourself smiling back.

notes: i’ll try and go through my requests inbox as soon as I can!! thank u to those who left a few :)

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 15

And here we are at the end! It's been a wild and fun ride. Thank you to everyone who came with me on this journey!

@cryptid-system I hope my solution is as easy as yours ;)

We have the fallout from the cliffhanger, Steve taking that final step, and the truth comes out.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

~

When they got there, it was already a mess. Eddie had caught Jason at his locker and when Chrissy provided evidence that he was told to do so by Billy, that pretty much stopped the whole fucking event.

It took two days to untangle the whole shitshow, but at the end, Jason was replaced by an alternate and Chrissy allowed to continue, but with strict instructions that if she so much as toed the line she would be removed too.

Chrissy readily agreed. She wanted to compete, she didn’t want to cheat.

But that got Eddie thinking and he discussed his theory with the judges. They agreed to look into it but that the games would continue as scheduled.

Eddie agreed that would probably be best.

When it was time for the first meet, for real this time, Eddie made a show of checking his starting block for any sign of sabotage.

“Eddie Munson, checking his block for any signs of tampering,” the announcer said. “With his coach being Steve Harrington and the attempt to get him out of the races for drug possession, he has a lot of reasons to be cautious.”

The other announcer burst out laughing. “Did he just kick it? Like one does a tire of a used car one is buying?”

“It appears he did,” the announcer said, grinning from ear to ear. “It makes for some good entertainment, though.”

“It does that, yes.”

Eddie looked up at the stands and gave Steve a thumbs up and Steve burst out laughing.

Then Eddie put his goggles on, lowered himself into the water and grasped the starting block. He settled in and waited for the horn. No gun shots here.

Then the horn blared and he was off like a shot, arching into the water the way that Steve always loved.

He was graceful and fluid. And he was way ahead of his peers.

Steve was on the edge of his seat. Wayne and Robin each had a hand on his shoulders as Eddie kept his lead. Steve glanced up at the timer, but it was no where near a world record. But at this point it didn’t matter. Slowly the three of them rose to their feet as he neared the end.

Then he touched the pad and the entire stadium roared to life.

“What an incredible performance!” the first announcer crowed. “First time Olympian, Eddie Munson has taken the first gold of the swimming games!”

“And what an amazing gold it was,” the second announcer agreed. “We have USA teammate Trent York in silver, and bronze medal to Itsuke Tohsaka for Japan!”

“Great work to the USA for that double win,” the announced concluded.

~

On the winner’s podium, Eddie took a bite out of the gold to make sure it was real and then held it above his head.

Steve was so excited, he was jumping up and down. Then he did the unexpected. He ran out to the field and kissed Eddie senseless as he hopped down from the podium and into Steve’s waiting arms.

Steve spun him around excitedly and then kissed him again.

“If that’s the reaction I get when I get gold I’m going to have to win a lot more of them,” Eddie teased.

“It won’t matter,” Steve murmured into his ear. “I’ll kiss you no matter how you fare.”

Eddie smacked his arm. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna watch my teammate propose to his girlfriend of three years.”

Steve turned to where, sure enough Trent York was getting down on one knee to ask his girlfriend to marry him.

“Ah...” he said with a deep blush. “Nothing to be jealous of there, then?”

Eddie gently pulled Steve’s gaze away from the happy scene. “Never, lover boy.” And kissed him to the roar of the crowd.

The poor Japanese kid was looking around because he didn’t know what to do. Then a fan came tearing through the crowd and promptly kissed him on the mouth.

The announcers were calling it the love games, much to Steve and Eddie’s absolute glee.

~

Eddie medalled in all five of his events with talks to see about joining some of the medley teams for greater diversity of his form.

After Eddie’s last gold medal, his third, he was approached by the Olympic community for the swimming. His other two were silver, beating out Steve’s first time.

“Mr. Munson,” the French judge said, “we wanted to thank you for bringing to our attention your suspicions of the 2008 games.”

Steve looked at Eddie in confusion. “What suspicions?”

“Steve,” Wayne said gravely, “it’s been the long-held belief of a lot of people for awhile now that your accident wasn’t an accident at all.”

“Of course it was,” he said, frowning. “They looked into it afterwards and there were no signs of tampering.”

The Olympic members looked around at each other abashedly.

“That’s not quite true,” the English Olympic member muttered, “it was deemed inconclusive.”

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Are you kidding me right now?”

“With Billy sabotaging Mr. Munson with the drugs,” the French Olympic member said, “he asked us to see if there was any indication he had done such things in the past.”

“Billy?” Steve said, feeling the rush of blood around his ears. “Oh god. I always thought there was more to what happened, but Billy?”

He sank to a crouch and put his head between his legs to ward off a faint. They led him over to a bench and Robin rushed to get him water.

“When we started looking into the matter,” the English Olympic member said, “a maintenance worker immediately came forward because he feared that he would lose his job if he didn’t.”

“Holy shit,” Eddie said, sitting down hard next to Steve. “I really didn’t think anything would come of this. But it’s assault, right?”

“Technically it’s battery,” the French Olympic member murmured, “but while the Olympic Community has the authority to strip Billy of his two bronze medals, we cannot do anything else because it happened in Tokyo.”

Steve shook his head. “No, no. I get it. Just knowing he’s to blame is enough. Knowing that I have answers for the first time in my life to what happened to me, is–is plenty.”

Just then Billy came storming up to them. “This all your fault, Harrington. You’ll pay for this. I’m the superior swimmer, you fucking coward.”

“So put your money where your mouth is,” Steve growled getting to his feet. “Right here, right now. You and me, 150m. They’ll judge,” he pointed to the two Olympic members. “But I am and will forever be your god.”

Robin and Eddie shared shocked glances. They both wanted to jump in and ask if Steve was sure, but Wayne put a hand on Eddie’s chest and shook his head.

Robin opened her mouth to protest, but she saw the firm lines of Steve’s jaw and knew. He had this.

“Go suit up,” the English Olympic member said with a curt nod. “I think Mr. Harrington deserves a rematch, don’t you Marie?”

The French Olympic member nodded. “Yes, Theodore, I do believe he does. I will send someone to get you the appropriate gear.”

“Steve would you mind changing in the women’s dressing room to prevent trouble?” Theodore asked.

Steve nodded. “That’s fine. It makes it easier because my assistant coach is a woman.”

The two members nodded and everyone went their separate ways, leaving Wayne and Eddie alone in the bleachers.

“I’m so worried, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie admitted as he clasped his hands together, leaning on his knees. He dropped his head between his shoulders with a heavy sigh.

“He’ll be fine,” Wayne soothed, rubbing Eddie’s back. “He needs to do this otherwise he’ll always be afraid. But if you’re so worried call Rhys.”

Eddie straightened up. “I didn’t know you were on a first name basis with Gareth’s dad.”

Wayne scoffed. “Kid, I’m on a first name basis with all your friends’ parents, considering how much trouble you lot tended to get up to.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Yeah, okay that tracks.” He picked up his bag that Wayne had been holding on to.

After the incident with Jason and Billy, Eddie refused to use the lockers at all and just handed Wayne his stuff before every meet. He dug around his clothes until he found what he was looking for. His cell phone. He called up Dr. Hughes.

“Eddie!” Dr. Hughes greeted cheerfully. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

So Eddie told him.

“I’m with Wayne on this one,” he said when Eddie was done. “But I appreciate your concern was enough that you reached out. He’ll be fine. Congrats on your relationship, though.”

Eddie snorted. “Of course he told you. But yeah, thanks. We don’t know what’s going to happen going forward, but we’re going to figure it out together.”

“He didn’t tell me anything, Ed,” Dr. Hughes said with a laugh. “I’m pretty sure the whole world saw that kiss.”

Eddie blushed and shoved a strand of hair in front of his face even though Dr. Hughes couldn’t see him.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Forgot about that little tidbit?” Dr. Hughes asked, slyly.

“It was a really good kiss,” he murmured.

Dr. Hughes laughed again. “Fair enough. Tell Steve good luck for me.”

“Will do.”

Eddie nearly dropped his phone when Steve came out. It was not the Steve he knew. The man in front of him oozed confidence and charm. The man who would be king.

He trotted up to him and licked his lips. “You don’t have to do this. You know you’re better than he is.”

Steve smirked. “Oh I do, but he doesn’t.”

Eddie huffed a laugh and helped him get all his hair under the cap. Then they walked over to the starting blocks. There was space between the two that Billy and he would use. It looked as though they were taking this very seriously.

“Butterfly?” Billy sneered. “I want to beat you at your best.”

“Butterfly it is,” Steve said with a nod. He pulled his goggles on and Billy pretended to rush him, but Steve didn’t even flinch. “I’ve faced scarier things than you in the last four years, you’re nothing.”

He turned on his heel and got up on the starting block. Billy did the same, without the swagger from before. Eddie would swear for years, he saw sweat bead on Billy’s temples as they waited for the horn.

Then it went off. They both dived into the water. And instantly, Eddie could tell the difference. Not just in form, but style too.

They watched and waited as they did their laps. Steve keeping a body’s length between Billy and him. Then it was the last lap and Steve surged ahead, outstripping Billy even further.

Steve tapped the plate well before Billy did and yanked off his goggles, whooping and cheering.

“Oh my god!” Chrissy screamed.

“Steve look up!” Robin called out.

At first Eddie didn’t understand what she was screaming about. Then he spotted it. “Steve, baby. I need you to look at your time.”

Steve looked at the judges first who were in shock. Then he looked over at Billy who looked completely devastated. He finally looked up at the time clock. A new world record.

“It can’t be counted because it wasn’t an official race,” Marie said. “But if you can replicated it, you have to have to come back to the sport. Especially with a time like that.”

“Hell yeah!” Steve cheered, pulling himself out of the pool. “I’m back, baby!”

Eddie rushed over and kissed him senseless the moment he was on his feet.

“Mr. Harrington there is the small matter of being Mr. Munson’s coach,” Theodore said, pained.

Robin raised her hand. “Hold on, what is the biggest concern with an athlete/coach relationship?”

The two judges exchanged glances.

“The power imbalance,” Marie said. “And especially considering the large gap between their ages it wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“But if we take into consideration Steve’s trauma and phobias,” Robin continued, “it wouldn’t be an imbalance.”

The judges didn’t look sure, especially after that performance.

“Trauma can crop back up at any time,” Robin said, “so this doesn’t mean he’s fixed.”

“Rob!” Steve chuckled. “There’s an easier way to do this, without upsetting these good people.”

She blinked at him for a moment. “Huh?”

“You coach us both!” he said with a laugh. “If we’re peers then there can’t be a power imbalance at all!”

“Oh!”

Everyone laughed.

~

Joyce handed Robin a box in front of Max, Eddie, and Steve. She opened the box and inside was a coach’s jacket with BUCKLEY in silver and black bold letters. She tried to hold back tears as Steve helped her put it on.

“You earned it,” he whispered, before going and standing next to Eddie.

“Just one more thing before you get started,” Joyce said with a smile. “Robin has decided to also have an assistant coach. May I introduce you to Coach Cunningham.”

Chrissy stepped out of the women’s locker room with a smile and shy little wave.

“I trust there won’t be any difficulties?” Joyce asked with a raised eyebrow.

Everyone shook their heads no.

Eddie put his arm around her shoulders. “So what made you decide to become a coach?”

“I decided I wasn’t cut out for the competition racket,” she said with a grin. “Billy showed me that.”

Eddie nodded.

“Plus there’s the fact that there are no rules against dating a fellow coach.”

Eddie barked out a laugh as Robin turned bright, bright red.

Oh yeah, Chrissy was going to fit in just fine.

Steve grabbed his arm. “Come on, I’ll race you to the pool!”

Eddie threw his head back and laughed and laughed, all the while Steve took off running. He shook his head and chased his boyfriend to the pool.

Thank god for Jim Hopper.

~

Tag List: STORY COMPLETE

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @gloomysoup

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @eriquin

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @tartarusknight @morallyundefined

[greml1nb0i]

THE HAZBIN LEAKS SHOW THAT S2 WILL ONLY GET WORSE: Characters

OK so my first gripe,

Emily's song is ear bleedingly annoying. Idk who her VA is but omg, idk if she's tone deaf or if they just have her mouth directly into the mic but my gods woman. STEP BACK you are assaulting my brain with these nonstop high sopranos.

Also the literal shot of Sir P trying to kill himself cuz of how either how annoying Emily is being or the fact he misses his friend, regardless it was a WILD fucking scene to show. Suicide isn't off the table for Viv's jokes, i guess.

Speaking of Sir P, his reason for being in Hell is so fucking stupid.

How tf is being scared of Jack The Ripper a sin?! His sin is just being scared of being murdered if he spoke out.

THAT'S JUST NORMAL HUMAN BEHAVIOR, WHAT?!

I hate to break it to you Viv, but not everyone is going to act like a macho hero when they see a damned murder!! Most people fucking run and hide! Why? CUZ THEY DONT WANNA DIE! They don't want to be targeted if shit goes south.

Also what is the thought process here in making his sin being just "cowardice"?? Viv are you trying to say that people who have most def been in Sir P's shoes, [witnessing a murder] are cowards that deserve to go to hell?? What's the motive here? Am i missing something?? Is being too afraid to be murdered, a sin??

Also apparently he was sent to Heaven for "saving Cherri Bomb"

save her from what?

Last i checked, in the final ep; he just kisses her as she's about to through a bomb and then says "i love you, remember me" only to have one of the most anti climatic "deaths" in the show. She wasnt even being attacked or threatened in anyway. So where tf does the plot point of "i saved her" come in??

Also can we talk about these fuck-ass human designs for Sir P and Alastor??

I don't mind Sir P's as much as i hate Alastor's. Its the fact Viv doesnt know wtf she's doing when she makes these designs.

Sir P just looks like a generic guy. One look at him and you cannot tell what time period he's from, same goes for Alastor. They could easily be frickin neighbors in the early or late 90s but no, they're supposedly from different timelines.

Alastor iirc is from the 1940-50s, and Sir P is from the 1800s, [Jack the rippers final kill was 1863-1888]

Why, Viv, cant you do any research for the time periods YOUR characters come from??

Why do they both look like cartoon barbers; not a radio show host and not a genius inventor?? Like did you even look at the differences in fashion and culture for any of these characters?!

Men fashion from the late 1800s looked like this:

This is [white] Men's fashion in the 1940-1950s:

See Viv, their fashion styles are different and shouldn't look the same at all. Why does every character have pinstripes, if it doesnt even reflect that time period in an authentic way??

And to add a cherry on top, this is what African American men would wear in Alastor's time period:

Do you see the difference in styles Viv?

Black men were not given the same nice everyday casual wear that white men did. They often wore hand-me-downs or had to work their asses off to just afford 1 nice looking suit.

you wanna know why?? Cuz Viv, the Jim Crow laws were still in full affect til the late 60s and early 70s. They were not seen as people, black men and women were still heavily discriminated against and were even still being victims of-

[MAJOR TW FOR RACISIT STUFF]

lynching's. Alastor would feel lucky, he only got mistaken for a deer and shot; he could have, and probably did, go through much much worse in his actually living life.

Tell me you didn't do any research for your characters without telling me you didn't do any research for your characters.

TLDR; So not only is Viv using more gross jokes in her next season, but the character designs have gotten even worse.

Lmk what you want the next topic to be about, if i missed anything you would've liked mentioned here, lmk in comments or asks and i'll reply. I reply to everyone as long as you arent being a jerk.

EDIT:

I've been made away that Alastor didn't in fact live in the 1940s and 50s but the 1930s. i will say most of my points still stand, but here the men's fashion for his time period.

also that makes his radio show even more of an impossible achievement, in the 1930s majority, if not, half of the black men in America were out of work cuz of racism, discrimination and segregation, ya know, cuz the Jim Crow. White people called for African Americans to be fired from any jobs as long as there were whites out of work. Racial violence again became more common, especially in the South.

Tell me again Viv, how tf did Alastor even thrive??

[heresthestorymorningglory]

Would've Could've Should've - Part 2

Hi Babes! :D Me again....you guys absolutely blew up the first part of this which I wasn't expecting so like thank you?? 😭😭😭

As I mentioned before never say never….this one’s a love I’ve had for…20 odd years and comes clad in yellow spandex….

Another one that was meant to live in the WIP and has taken on a life of its own...

I've had some wicked writer's block but my @ken-dom has still been mad encouraging and I love her dearly for it. Without her none of these would exist much like everything I’ve written over the last year and a half.

As always, this NSFW 18+

We've got plans this man and I

Y'all should know by now I rarely post one shots…..so yeah, this will be multiple parts….I’m just not sure on the final tally yet.

Enjoy my loves! <3

You locked the door with a sigh, turning off the open sign. You turned on your heel, making your way back to where Logan sat, leaned back against the bar, watching. 

“What?” You asked, slowing your steps 

“C’mere” he jerked his head and you shook yours. 

“N-no” you spoke quietly 

You had spent a majority of your shift mercilessly teasing him and now the bar was closed and it was just the two of you…and you had a sickening sense of deja vu.

“Why not?” He mused, getting to his feet. He hadn't drank as much as he usually does and you were starting to understand why. 

“I don't want to” you pressed your lips together before dropping your gaze. 

You could sense him moving closer, the heavy footfalls of his work boots. You swallowed hard as his feet appeared in front of yours. 

He was quiet, you were both quiet, and unmoving. 

His hand reached to grip your jaw, forcing your head up to look at him. 

You swallowed hard a second time as he started to walk you backwards. 

You gasped as your back hit the wall and he didn't stop, closing the distance between you. 

Your heart hammered in your chest when he stopped, lips mere millimeters from yours. 

Fingers flexed against your jaw and you let out a shaky breath, struggling to find your voice. 

“What’s the matter?” 

You shook your head as much as his grip would allow. “N-nothing”

He simply hummed, the hand holding your face, moving to run a finger over your cheek; your face instantly flushed a deep red. The gentleness of his touch putting you on edge.

“You think you can spend the night taunting me?” He asked, his voice low, even, and calculated. “Teasing me?”

You watched as he dropped his hand, a single claw slowly appearing from between his knuckles.

“Logan-” you whispered, voice barely audible; the memory coming screaming back and you fought the urge not to go rigid. 

“I'm waiting” he said sternly, his exposed claw dragging along the thin fabric of your t-shirt as he slowly dragged it down the centre, but not enough pressure to peirce fabric…not yet.

Another hard swallow and you shook your head; your eyes fixed on the single blade as it came to rest between your cleavage, Logan having dragged it back up the middle.

He retracted it back under his skin without a word, but didn’t move. He was still close…too close, crowding your space, doing it on purpose; knowing you could feel the heat radiating off his body. He moved to cup your cheek in his hand, instinctively you leaned into his touch, your eyes slipping closed as you felt your knees falter. Finding it very difficult to take a full breath.

“Log-” you started again, cut off mid breath by a bruising, demanding kiss. 

You let yourself be pinned against the wall, thankful for something sturdy as his lips moved against yours; taking a deep breath in through your nose, and in spite of yourself, you couldn't stop the soft moan that escaped from between your mouths as you felt his hand push under your hair at the back of your neck; his fingers tangling in the strands. 

He pressed against you, his free hand finding your hip, squeezing hard. 

You whined against his mouth and he seized the opportunity, slipping his tongue between your lips with a moan himself. 

Your head was spinning, if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought you were drunk. 

He tasted just like you remembered; whiskey and stale cigars. Something on any other night you would be repulsed by, but not with Logan…never with Logan…ever.

Finally, you got a grip on yourself, pushing him back gently; very aware of one hand on the nape of your neck, the other tucked up under your t-shirt. His shoulders were warm under your hands as you caught your breath and attempted to focus. 

“We can’t-” you breathed 

“Sure we can,” he countered, his breathing just as heavy and laboured as yours before his lips crashed against yours a second time. 

Your mouth moved against his briefly before you pried your lips from his, reluctantly, taking a much needed breath. Logan simply moved his assault to your exposed neck, his warm, wet tongue gliding over your overheated skin before his teeth sank into the sensitive flesh; making your knees buckle as you gasped against his ear, his strong arm sliding around your back to keep you upright. 

“Fuck, Logan” you whimpered as he sucked hard on your now marked flesh. 

He hummed against your neck with approval, fingers on both his hands curling against your skin. 

Your own teeth sank into your bottom lip as you fought to keep your composure. 

“Not here” you whispered, finally releasing your lip 

He laughed light and breathy against the shell of your ear, making your shiver “Yes, here” he whispered against the shell of your ear “You think you’re going to tease me all night like that and I’m not going to fuck you on every flat surface in this place?” 

His emphasis on the word ‘fuck’ sent goosebumps over your skin and your breath caught in your throat. 

“That’s a lot of surfaces” you whimpered feeling his fingers toy with the waistband of your skirt 

“And once we’re done down here,” he continued, his teeth scraping against your earlobe. “I’m going to take you upstairs, and fuck you on every flat surface up there too” 

Your heart slammed against your ribcage as you attempted to squeeze your thighs together; unsuccessfully as the hand on your hip shot like a flash between your legs, keeping them spread apart. 

“Ah ah” he chuckled lightly, his eyes finally meeting yours 

You knew you were flushed, and you knew he could smell the fear emanating from you; but you also knew he could smell the arousal too 

“Logan…” you warned, trying your damnedest to sound intimidating and failing miserably. 

He stepped back, dropping both his hands to his sides; his eyes raking over your form. 

“One,” he counted and you cocked your head slightly as he smirked 

“Two…” he continued 

You stepped out of your black pumps, dropping your height a good three inches, with a smirk of your own before you tore around him toward the back of the bar, toward the kitchen as he continued counting over your shoulder. 

Five seconds, if he was feeling generous…three if he wasn’t….

This was all part of the little game you had found yourself a part of; one you had suggested initially, on a drunken night that seemed like it was ages ago. Count to ten you had told him, ten seconds head start and if he had found you, he would be rewarded. 

Now, instead of ten seconds, you got five….and he hunted. 

Immediately through the door, you dropped out of sight and maneuvered your way around the dark kitchen. Within seconds, the same door you had come through, swung open a second time; Logan’s form looming in the darkness. You quieted your breathing as you watched his eyes scan the dark room. He stepped forward, boots landing heavily as he did, making the floor verberate under your now bare feet. 

Your heart beat hard in your ears as you slipped around one of the small tables, keeping him in sight, his back to you, but you still moved slow and quiet; for every step he took deeper into the kitchen you took back toward the way you had come. 

He had expected you to hide, he always expected you to hide. 

Your eyes adjusted slowly, making it easier to see, but you knew if it was becoming easier for you, it was becoming easier for him too. 

“I can smell you” he declared to the silent room 

You pressed your lips together, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to ignore the throbbing ache between your thighs. His promises echoing in the back of your mind.

Every. Flat. Surface. 

You watched as he moved toward the very back of the kitchen, and you quickly got to your feet and tip toed as swiftly as  you could manage, back through the double doors. Logan’s footfalls were heavy behind you for a fraction of a second before they went silent again, but he hadn’t followed you out. 

You clocked the narrow staircase a few feet away from your place behind the bar. Your apartment was your goal, if you made it there, you won.  He was still in the kitchen if you moved fast you could- You gasped quietly, dropping to the floor as the doors swung gently.  Now he stood between you and your exit. 

The bar was darker than usual, you wondered if there was no moon out tonight as you crouched, silently making your way around the front of the bar, stopping before giving yourself away. 

He clicked his tongue with disapproval and you stayed rooted to your spot…hoping he would go the way you’d come. 

Your breath caught in your throat as you heard the unmistakable scrape of metal on wood. He was slowly making his way to the other end of the bar, dragging his claws as he went. You had a clear path from where you crouched to the stairs, all you had to do was outrun him. 

You stood to your full height and ran for the stairs as if your life depended on it. 

Your foot just missed the bottom step before a strong arm wrapped around your middle, a hand collapsing over your mouth as he snarled “I win”  in your ear, dragging you back toward the bar. 

He turned you to face him, both hands gripping your hips none too gently as he pushed you back against the wall, making the liquor bottles on the nearby shelf rattle dangerously. His mouth claiming yours for a fraction of a second before he yanked your t-shirt over your head, dropping it at your feet. 

You had given up trying to protest, throwing your arms around his neck as he lifted you off your feet, guiding your legs around his waist. 

You practically melted into the wall, letting his weight support you fully as his tongue explored every inch of your mouth. 

Your fingers pushed through the thick strands of dark hair at the back of his head as you moaned shamelessly against his mouth. 

His hips rolling forward, intentionally grinding the bulge hidden under his jeans against your core. 

You arched your back as much as he would allow, head hitting plaster as you threw your head back with a cry towards the ceiling. 

Logan growled with approval as his teeth scraped over the length of your throat, rolling his hips a second time, this time slower, more deliberate. 

“Fuck,” you grit your teeth “L-Logan”

His breath was hot and heavy against your ear as he chuckled lightly “Don't worry, I plan too” 

In spite of yourself, a whimper tumbled from your lips. 

“But,” he leaned back slightly, pulling your legs free of his midsection, hand still firmly on your hip. “Not right now”

You blinked, processing his words as he leaned back slightly. 

“W-what?”

“You heard me” he smirked, his free hand disappearing up under your skirt, his calloused fingers teasing the inside of your thigh. 

You jumped slightly with a gasp as they were replaced by metal, cold against your skin before it disappeared, his fingertips ghosting over the fabric of your panties. “Not right now” He repeated, his voice cool and even. 

As fast as it had appeared, his hand dropped from between your legs, but not before his middle finger pushed firmly against that throbbing bundle of nerves and he turned on his heel, leaving you leaning against the wall to collect yourself. 

“LOGAN!’ You nearly shrieked and he stopped mid-stride halfway between you and the front door, but he kept his back to you. 

“What?” His deep voice amused at your obvious frustration. “Something wrong?” He taunted, echoing your own words back at you. 

You clenched your teeth together, biting down hard on the inside of your cheek as he stood stationary. 

“I can't stay,” he said simply “I've got things to do…”

You glared at the back of his head “It's two o'clock in the morning, what the fuck could you possibly have to do?!”

“Not fucking you seems to be at the top of that list” he mused, turning back to face you. “Seems to be the thing that would piss you off the most” 

You took a sharp breath in through your nose and he laughed again. 

“Unclench your jaw babe, it's not a good look” 

“You're not doing this to best me” you finally spoke, but keeping your voice quiet. 

“Oh no?” He cocked an eyebrow curiously 

You shook your head 

“Then why am I doing it?” He asked, arms folding over his broad chest 

“Because you're scared,” you challenged, finally moving away from the wall and moving toward him slowly as you continued “You've got some deep seated fucked up trauma that you don't talk about because God forbid you let someone in”

His eyes narrowed as you came to a stop, a few feet from where he stood. “Stop”

“Did I hit a nerve?” You cocked your head slightly, still aware you were in nothing but your skirt and a bra. “Or a memory?” you whispered

“Don't” he snapped, the warning clear in his voice, but still you pushed 

“Ooh, the dark brooding angry side, like I haven't seen that before. You rolled your eyes. “Come on Logan,” you laughed “You and I both know you're a walking fucking disaster, the screaming nightmares night after night, your drinking problem….other problems”

As you continued, he clenched his hands into fists and you could see the flash of his white teeth in the darkness, the tips of his claws glinting in the moonlight. 

Despite your heart slamming in your chest, you somehow managed to keep your voice even. 

“Don't even get me started on those” you bit, glancing briefly at his hands. “All they do is cause damage….” You intentionally scratched at your scar. 

Logan snapped, claws out, teeth bared, he lunged at you in the darkness. 

Before you could blink, wondering if maybe you'd taken it too far, you found yourself on top of the bar on your back, Logan's weight pinning you there as he loomed over you, nose to nose, claws of his right hand buried as deep as he could get them into the bartop. 

He was breathing hard, jaw clenched tight.  

You jumped slightly as he wrenched his hand free of the polished wood; his eyes fixed on yours. You didn't dare move, not that you could if you had wanted to. 

“Not. Another. Fucking. Word.” He snarled, his breath warm against your already flushed cheeks. 

You managed a half nod before he crushed his mouth against yours, his teeth biting down hard on your bottom lip, making you cry out against his mouth. 

This time there was zero hesitation as he broke your kiss, a quick flash of silver metal rendering your bra completely useless as it fell to pieces. 

Your skirt was the next casualty, his claws running right down the centre, cutting it to useless ribbons of fabric. 

He locked eyes with you, claws retracted as he tossed his shirt into the darkness and worked open his belt, pushing his jeans off his hips, his fingers curled around the waistband of your underwear and you smirked when you noticed he wasn't wearing any of his own. 

You bit down on your lip as you lifted your hips. 

You were breathing hard, but you couldn't will yourself to stop, heart still racing as warm hands pushed your knees apart, Logan moving himself closer. 

“What, no foreplay?” You breathed 

Logan scoffed, his hands finding your hips. “As if you need it” 

He yanked you forward roughly, off the edge of the bar and you gasped, an arm instinctively wrapping around his neck as you caught yourself on his shoulder with the other hand. 

His hands holding firmly under your thighs, supporting the entirety of your weight with ease as your legs found their way back around his waist. 

Neither of you spoke, your breathing was shaky and ragged; his was slow and even. 

His fingers flexed against your thigh, sending a shockwave of electricity straight to your core. 

You gasped, breathing hard enough that your chest brushed against his every time you inhaled. 

“Scared?” He smirked, still painfully close and doing nothing about it, despite the press of his arousal against the inside of your thigh. 

You shook your head slowly, knowing full well if he couldn't feel your heart slamming against your ribs, he could likely smell it on you. 

As if to prove your point, his nose slid slowly along your cheek as he leaned forward, taking a deep breath as his lips pressed against your ear, his weight pushing you back against the edge of the bar. 

Your eyes fluttered closed as his breath tickled your neck. 

“Liar” he whispered, his voice thick with arousal. You whimpered, leaning harder against his chest as his teeth pulled on your earlobe, at the same time his hips thrusting forward, burying himself to the hilt in one swift movement. 

You cried out, arching against him, your nails biting into his bare shoulder. 

Without so much as a second breath he thrust again, using the bar at your back to his advantage, his hands moving to your hips. The bruising ache of his gripping fingers, buried deep in your flesh. The familiar sting of metal biting flesh right above his fingers as you rocked against him, shamelessly moaning against his neck. 

You bent your head just enough to run your tongue over the hollow of his collarbone, a needy moan against your neck sending shivers through your entire body. 

You lifted your head only to be met by a demanding, possessive kiss. Rough and sloppy as one of his hands found its way into your hair. His tongue tangling with yours as your own fingers twisted in his thick, dark locks, pulling hard, a feral growl escaping from deep in his chest as you squeezed your legs harder around his waist as he fucked you harder. 

He pulled his mouth from yours and you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. Both of you breathing hard, your lungs burning from the effort of it. 

“Logan I-” you managed before a desperate moan tumbled from your lips “Oh, God” Your nails moving to drag down the expanse of his bare back. 

You threw your head back, feeling his arms wrap around your frame, crushing you against his chest as your orgasm rocked your body, your fingernails buried deep in the flesh of his back, his animalistic roar echoing around the empty bar before he collapsed against you. 

You could feel the raised welts your nails had left in their wake down his back slowly starting to heal themselves as he eased his hold on you, 

Your breath caught in your throat slightly as he slid from inside you, leaving you feeling empty…wanting to be full. 

He let your legs slip from around his waist with a sigh, both of you panting hard. 

You opened your mouth to speak, your eyes searching his face and he shook his head almost like he had read your mind. 

“Logan…” 

“Not another word” he smirked

“But I-” 

Before you could protest further, he took your face in both hands and kissed you deeply; your feet leaving the floor as he hoisted you into his arms. You pulled back with a giggle as his beard scratched against your cheek and he kissed a path along your jaw.

“I can walk” you quipped, your arms finding their way around his neck as you leaned against his shoulder. 

“Not once I get through with you” he breathed against the shell of your ear. 

You whimpered and he laughed, smirking against your skin; the ghost of his breath sending a shiver down the length of your spine as he carried you up the stairs towards your apartment.

[majoryeager104]

Meet-Cute Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Pro Hero! Touya X Gn!Reader

Summary: Pro hero Touya Todoroki finds a new favorite cafe

ong I’ve had so much fun writing these

“can I change that?”

Needless to say your answer was yes. Touya getting away with it? Another story. Between the paparazzi, and fans, and then Endeavor constantly up his ass for the most random things, it was getting harder and harder for Touya to visit your cafe, especially now that the rumors of him having a new girlfriend were spreading like wildfire.

To be fair, he was always a sucker for attention, so he didn’t mind these rumors one bit. But, he’d still keep his mouth shut when the press asked about you, just shruging and saying ‘it’s a secret’ with that lopsided grin of his.

But for you, the experience was definitely…tougher. Running a small business was hard enough, but now it was bustling with people who’s sole intention was to meet Regulus the blue flame hero- some of them would be downright rude, or just loiter and take up space where most people had come to relax.

But Touya had definitely noticed this- the stressed glances you shot him, the way some customers would just be blatantly aggressive towards you, the way your smile was beginning to look more…drained. He hated it. So much so that the pro hero Regulus stopped showing up to the cafe, in hopes that it would go back to being quiet and peaceful.

Pro hero Regulus, at least. Touya would visit all the time, but he made sure no one had a single clue. See, while he enjoyed the attention, he also enjoyed seeing you at ease far more. So he’d wear hoodies and slip into the background, sometimes he’d surprise even you with his little disguises. The two of you’d share quick glances and flirts and compliments before he’d be off to his hero duties, the rest of the cafe unaware that the number 2 hero had just been in the same building as them.

But the best part of this arrangement was that, rather than spending time with you at the cafe only, he got your number, and eventually your apartment key, and of course you had his. So while he couldn’t hide in his favorite cafe for too long, he always had your place to go to when he was feeling overwhelmed.

Even you benefited, often staying the night at his place, bringing that cozy peace of your cafe with you, making Touya realize that the warmth there was from you all along. It was a sweet arrangement. The two of you would stay up late, often just chatting, talking about the lives you lived, and the lives you wanted to live.

But Touya personally really enjoyed that now he basically had his own personal barista. And a cute one at that.

All dialogue but I really wanted to get a feel for it if that makes sense 🙏😭 idk I didn’t feel like there was much needed to be said for this one I’m kind of just setting the stage for the next part hehe

[dorabledewdroop]

Chapter 12

Hi everyone! I am so sorry it has taken me so long to post this chapter, I got my stuff repaired, so now I can actually type. I am hoping to write a bit more often, but exams are coming soon, and hence, I will probably not be able to post as much as I want, but I will try.

Warnings: Graphic injury (as usual), blood, violence

Series Masterlist

X--X--X--X--X

You groaned inwardly after hearing Steve go through the 5th plan for the third time.

You knew you were getting overconfident, but your ‘episodes’ always left you filled with anxiety and mental fatigue.

“Steve,” you interrupted, “you know I love being prepared as much as the next teammate, but could I please just go and rest?”

He simply sighed, knowing sitting in one place was not your strongest suit.

“Y/n, your vision further emphasises the danger of this mission; hence, we need to be thoroughly prepared to avoid what you saw.”

You sighed, nodding your head and melting further into your chair. You could feel your girlfriends giving you a sympathetic smile from across the table.

They weren’t allowed to sit next to you after the 2nd time. (You accidentally zoned out during the entire mission briefing and proceeded to get shot within minutes of stepping into the field)

The moment Steve dismissed everyone, you bolted out, wanting to be anywhere but in a room.

Before you knew it, you were at your second favourite place on the compound (the first being in both your girlfriends’s arms): the new rooftop garden.

When Tony showed up at your room after your first very own mission, he noticed the plants and later inquired about your love of fauna. Before you knew it, the rooftop of your wing was remodelled into a gorgeous garden. 

Natasha had to be held by your witchy girlfriend to stop her from cackling out loud at Tony's very flustered expression when you started crying with joy and hugging the man.

That was where you had met Gabriel, the most adorable, dapper little gentle-teen who was in charge of gardening.

When you met, you immediately hit it off, bonding over your love of gardening and life itself. You adored his take on plants and were always excited when he came to share what he had learned in school.

You were brought out of daydreaming as two gorgeous women sat down on either side of you.

You felt your heart swell at the thought of getting to spend time with the two of them.

You three continued to sit in peaceful silence and watch the sun slowly set over the horizon.

X—X—X—X—X

Natasha flopped on your bed with a content sigh. She’d never admit it, but she instantly felt calmer and lighter when she was in your room.

Wanda was watering the plants on the balcony, talking to them sweetly. Neither of them had really thought about plants before you came around, but the change was almost immediate. 

Wanda absolutely adored spending time on your balcony. She was filled with so much energy and happiness when she was in your room and the rooftop garden. She knew it had something to do with you, even local parks or forests did not make her feel the way plants that were personally looked after by you did. It was as though she could feel you through them; your power emanated from every leaf, stem, and petal.

She basked in the feeling a little more, waiting for you to come back from your meeting with her brother.

You entered your room quietly, holding two boxes of pizza, only to find Natasha asleep and Wanda staring at the stars. Your witchy girlfriend must’ve heard your thoughts cause her head snapped to you with a wide grin. She slid open the door to enter your room, causing Nat to wake up.

“Pizza time”, you whispered to the both of them, your smile widening at the hungry looks you received.

Wanda moaned at the first bite of her pepperoni slice. Your head snapped to her, mouth hanging open as the veggies from your slice just dripped back onto the open box.

Paying no mind to your reaction, Wanda continued to devour that slice of pizza, making sure both her girlfriends heard how much she was enjoying her food.

“You might want to eat that before it gets cold, detka,” Nat whispered in your ear.

You brought your attention back to your slice—or rather, what used to be your slice. Unbeknownst to you, all the cheese and veggies had fallen off the slice in your hands, leaving you with just a saucy base.

You ignored the giggles as you ate whatever you could, face burning in embarrassment.

X—X—X—X—X

“That was amazing. Where did you get the pizza?” Natasha asked, cuddling further into you.

“I have no idea,” you replied. " Ask Pietro; he’s the one who got it from somewhere in Italy.”

Wanda’s head snapped up from your chest, glaring at you. “He did WHAT?”

You shrugged, “apparently, he’s getting faster and was more than willing to get me food.”

The witch scoffed, “he’s never done that for me, and I’m his sister.”

You smiled, kissing the tip of her nose. “He’s my best friend.”

Wanda merely rolled her eyes and rested her head back on your chest. 

Unable to help yourself, you egged her on. “Pretty sure he’d get me some lovely gelato if I asked hi- YEOWCH!”

You yelped as Wanda bit your neck.

“What the fuc- OW STOP WHY”

Wanda growled and continued to bite all over your torso.

“NAT HEL- OW NAT WHY”

You scrambled to get off the bed from your two bitey girlfriends but found yourself pinned to the bed by red wisps. You gave up, letting the bites and giggles continue until they eventually got tired enough to calm down and sleep.

You eventually fell asleep, dreaming of men in catsuits and a weird, ugly purple hulk.

X—X—X—X—X

“… Not to my face, they didn’t. Why did someone say something?” 

You heard Natasha’s voice in your earpiece. 

You chuckled, sipping your iced coffee as you continued to listen to their banter.

They soon figured out the truck’s destination and acted accordingly. The moment you saw the truck break through the gates, you immediately sprinted towards them.

You were asked to stay hidden until necessary but were unable to ignore the cries of pain of the civilians caught in the fight. You healed as many as you could while keeping an eye on your team, gasping when you saw Steve kick a guy and launch him far away.

You noticed the mission became more complicated as they identified the infectious gas that was stolen.

You heard that Rumlow and his group split up and instinctively knew it was time for your secret backup plan.

You whispered ‘code Silver’ into your phone’s AI and immediately ran towards the market. There were a few civilians with broken bones because of the fight; one was shot. You helped them up, healing them without them realising. The sun hid the white glow of your powers, so it wasn’t noticeable unless someone was directly looking at the injured area.

You were able to use the tracking app to find out where Steve was and saw him throw his shield in the air as it exploded. Your eyes widened when you saw Rumlow charge towards Steve.

You sprinted as fast as you could to intercept but didn’t make it in time; Rumlow punched Steve with such force that Steve flew backwards straight into you. You winced as you felt your ribs break under the force, surprised at how well Steve ate that punch. You wanted to heal him, but his suit covered his entire body.

You got up and were about to help Steve when you saw movement from the corner of your eye.

You weren’t able to avoid the hit and ended up flying into a building with a sickening splat.

The moment you could, you opened your eyes to look around, finding yourself in an office surrounded by your blood and a few bits and pieces of your organs.

You whimpered as you felt your organs go back into the right place, your tibia snap back into place and heal.

You crawled to find Rumlow on his knees, glaring at Steve. You saw something in his hand and tried to scream out.

Rumlow was almost immediately encased in a red sphere. Wanda, Steve and you waited for the explosion that never went off. Rumlow looked at his trigger hand only to find it empty.

Realising there was no imminent danger, Wanda let go of the sphere, and Rumlow was tackled to the ground by Captain America.

You sighed in relief, letting your body relax.

Wanda was perplexed; she clearly saw a trigger in his hand right before he pressed it. When Steve tackled him to the ground, they saw no bomb or trigger on him.

“Wondering what happened?” She heard a familiar voice behind her.

She spun around to see her brother grinning, out of breath.

She immediately ran and hugged him, pulling back when she smelled his t-shirt.

“Piet.. how.. what.. why do you smell like smoke?”

He chuckled, “You can thank y/n for that; she gave me her spare tracker watch thing and told me to use it when I got the alert.”

Steve frowned as he overheard the conversation

“Why didn’t she inform us?”

The speedster simply shrugged, “Ask her, wait. Where is she?”

Wanda felt her heart drop; she looked around but couldn’t find you. She knew you were nearby, but because so many people were being evacuated from the market and nearby buildings, she couldn’t pinpoint your location or read your mind.

She walked up to Steve, who was helping Sam round everyone up to arrest them.

Before she could, the building nearest to the market exploded. She gasped as she saw you fall from a few stories up, unconscious.

No words were required; Pietro took Wanda to the building, where she used her magic to stop your fall, lowering you directly into Pietro’s arms. He let out a yell and let go of you, shaking his arms as you fell face-first onto the ground.

“PIETRO, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU” Wanda yelled, using her magic once again to raise you in the air.

She let out a yelp when she tried to touch you; your body was searing hot. Your skin was charred and glowing a faint red underneath.

Pietro reappeared wearing a bomb suit, picked you up and ran to the quinjet as fast as he could.

Wanda met with Natasha and updated her while both of them helped with clean up. 

It took another half hour before they were all able to get back on the quinjet.

They entered to see you fully heard, sitting in the med bay of the quinjet, sipping water, and talking to Pietro.

Your girlfriends immediately rushed to your side, asking you a bunch of questions and examining you to make sure you’re okay.

It took a whole hour before they calmed down enough to sit with you.

Steve and Sam joined you, having put the jet on autopilot.

“I’m glad to see you’re okay,” Steve said, “but I have to ask, how did you know to call Pietro for this mission? I thought he had his mission in Europe?”

Pietro cleared his throat. “Actually, I arrived last night... I didn’t want to go on this mission, so I didn’t tell anybody.”

Ignoring the way Steve stared at the speedster, you began to explain.

“I know I wasn’t paying a whole lot of attention yesterday at the meeting, but something still bothered me about it. So, I asked Piet to stay on call in case of an emergency. But because it wasn’t based on any evidence, I didn’t want to make it official and change the entire plan. I know it wasn’t my call; I’m sorry.”

You refused to meet anyone in the eye, ashamed of the secrecy. You did look up when you felt a hand on your foot.

“Your intuition saved many lives today. Besides, it showed us something we couldn’t have seen otherwise.”

You nodded solemnly, the possibilities making your mind race faster.

Pietro frowned, “What are you all nodding about?”

“The building y/n was in exploded,” Sam said

“Yeah.. so?”

Wanda looked at her brother “Piet, that was the building the Rumlow was near when I tried to stop him from pulling the trigger.”

Pietro stared at his sister as it slowly dawned on him.

“They wanted to make it look like your fault.” He said,

The witch nodded.

“Someone is trying to break up the Avengers…”

X--X--X--X--X

tags: @marvelwomen-simp @nothanksbye07 @jono723@luadyjcmd@alexawynters @falloutboy-lover

[astoldbyaja]

Late Nights Playing in the Dark

“I- I need to empty myself inside you, mein liebling.”

Konig X Black plus size female OC

Authors notes

And no I’m not trying to hear your opinion or views on what weight size is considered plus size to you! Keep it to yourself and enjoy the smut!

I am 5’7 rocking a 260-pound body that I was in love with. My face is bomb, my ass is fat, my bust is gorgeous, and I love my stomach and don’t get me started on thighs. Before I was in the military, I would walk around my house naked because I just enjoyed walking past every mirror in my home!

My body was heavily worshiped by my past lovers, not to mention there was much more of me to go around that my men just enjoyed. Those were good times, before I offered my service as a medic to KorTac. I got a long with pretty much everyone who came to my sick bay to be cared for…

So, you can imagine my surprise when Austrian operator Konig, had his thick muscular arms around my thighs carrying me to his barracks, like I didn’t weigh a thing.

“KONIG STOP IT! LET ME GO!” I said pounding on his heavy shoulders which did nothing to stop him. This man I have treated many times, he was built like a tank, arms covered in tattoos, yet he never removed his sniper hood. I knew he had severe anxiety, so I figured it brought him comfort. I was trying to figure out how it came to this, being brought into his large room and just placed onto his bed with a bounce.

It was late and I was checking a wound on his arm to ensure it healed properly and when I gave the “all clear”, he stood over me like a shadow, hoisted me up in his arms and just began to leave with me, without saying a word! Just like that. Konig was in a black tight shirt and his uniform pants. Konig looked down at me with heavy blue eyes.

“Naevia… I need you.” he said huskily, and I was almost confused before he began to unbuckle his pants and I gasped and covered my face, my fear rising in me. “I- I need to empty myself inside you, mein liebling.”

I squeaked at his words peeking through my fingers to see his cock standing at attention. My eyes widened. Oh, good lord he’s hung!

“Konig I-I don’t think I’m the right woman for you!” I said. For the first time, my confidence in my body was shot, mixed with fear of this giant of a man who had already removed his shirt revealing his muscular torso. He tilted his head.

“Why… would you say such a thing?” he asked as if offended. I finally lowered my hands and looked at his body and then looked at my body.

“I mean surely you’d want a woman who is smaller and well-built or something right?” I asked. I’ve personally never seen Konig around any women, but well-built men usually always wanted well-built petite women, or so I thought. He blinked down at me for a moment before leaning over and with one firm yank, he just slid my scrubs upward. I yelped as my legs were forced in the air as my pants slid right down my soft plushy thighs.

He even managed to take my Skechers off in the process!

“KONIG!” I yelped in shock. His hooded face was suddenly buried in my left thigh nuzzling it gently.

“Mein liebe, you have no idea how long I have waited to feel your soft skin against my face. Your body is perfect, you are perfect. Your thighs are so gorgeous, the way I want them to lock around my head and squeeze me so good!” He swoons, his gloved hands gently yet firmly holding my thighs in place. My eyes just watch in both horror and mild fascination at how much he was nuzzling my skin. I notice he leans into my inner thigh and press the space where his mouth is against my skin. He slowly reaches over to pull his mask up, but only enough for me to see his strong jaw as he kisses at my skin. “You smell amazing Naevia… you always do.”

I whimpered as his kisses begin to move up my body and I swallowed nervously as I felt him growl into my flesh. I shook my head snapping out of it as I try to scoot back some so, I could close my legs. I have been on my feet all day there is no way I smelled good down there!

“Konig, stop it’s dirty!” I say only for him to grab me and pull me back, burying his mask right into the center of my panties. I yelp as he inhales my scent, his eyes fluttering close for a moment.

“My darling, Naevia you could never be dirty.” he swoons, his eyes opening and looking at me with such… devotion. If eyes could show hearts in them, Konig’s would be pulsing. “Please Naevia… let me have you. Let me worship your body. I need it.”

I bit my lip looking at the top of his perfectly sculpted ass noticing he was rutting desperately into the bed right now. My heart was pounding hard in my chest, but I couldn’t deny the curiosity of how this moment would go with someone like Konig.

I’ve always heard this man was a monster on the battlefield, a killing machine who lived for the kill, and now here he is basically rubbing his cheeks against my thighs begging to have me. Fuck it.

“Okay… b-but shouldn’t I at least shower first- aaah~”

My words were cut off by his thick done moving up and down my folds through my panties. It felt weird at first, foreign almost, my body not aware of what was going on.

“No- need you… just like this.” he muttered into my pussy as he kept licking. The satin fabric of my panties mixed with his tongue had my folds tingling a bit due to the soft friction of the panties being touched. I shuddered feeling my vaginal walls starting to come to life. My chest begins to move up and down as I can hear him grumbling and growling into my pussy sending vibrations into me.

“Aah…” I moan as I feel his fingers finally pull my panties out of the way before feeling his tongue against my now wet folds. My toes began to curl as it didn’t take long for my body to respond. Konig begins to remove his gloves setting them on the ground so he can grip my thighs more, his fingers gently running along them after a moment.

“You taste amazing mein schatz.” Konig grumbles as his tongue begins to dip past my wet folds burying deeper inside, exploring my velvet walls. I can feel said walls begin to clench around the intruder. I notice his hands start to spread my thighs further apart, as he climbs further onto the bed, yet his mouth never leaves my drenched pussy.

Moans were falling from my lips as I feel his lips now move to suck on my sensitive clit. My toes curl immediately at the sensations, and I grip the bed sheets hard feeling heavy currents of pleasure beginning to move up into my body. My hips try and roll against his face, but he holds them down into the bed.

“Don’t worry, my liebe, I’ll take care of you.” he said, his dark eyes looking at me as if commanding me to keep still. My body is quivering still as he brings his attention back to my clit, flicking and teasing me now swollen pearl. My entire body was feeling warm and tingly all over. I feel two thick fingers prod at my soaked entrance before slowly pushing in, my walls automatically clenching up.

I gasped at the feel, his fingers curling lightly as he enters me. My eyes see stars as he started moving his fingers in and out, teasingly slow all the while his tongue continues to work my clit, sucking on it fast and hard. My cries grow louder, and I didn’t care about being quiet. I’ve always been told my moans sounded orgasmic, and I wanted to know if Konig would agree.

He growls out lowly as my moans continue, his fingers increasing in speed. My lower half was quivering from the stomach clenching pleasure I was feeling. I did not foresee my day going like this, but my god I didn't care. He felt so good inside me and it was making my body crave more of him.

“Ah Konig!” I moan his name. This only got his fingers moving faster and deeper inside me, hell bent to find my sweet spot, and when he does, I see white. My body bucks just a bit at the intense tingling sensations that were washing over me in waves. My walls were clenching faster and tighter, and my juices were pouring onto his fingers as his tongue continued to attack my clit.

“Keep showing me how good I make you, Naevia. I won’t stop until you cum at least four times.” Konig commands aggressively as his fingers curl inside me. Now the sparks of pleasure are attacking my pussy in heavy jolts, and I’m crying out harder and louder, desperate for him to keep going. My thighs lock around his head and he snarls happily at this response.

“Oh my god! Just like that, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” I chant as his fingers keep working me over, my hot juices are pouring out faster than I can stop it.

“Give it to me, mein Schatz!” he commands abusing that sweet spot now. I moan out hard as I feel me cum squirting out all over his fingers and face. My body shakes violently as I scream out in total bliss. My pussy gushes a bit more and I’m shuddering heavily. I’ve never done that before and it feels amazing.

“Braves mädchen…” he says lowly standing up on his knees before me. I have another clear picture of his body, his cock twitching almost angrily now, his balls tight. “Now… this is what’s going to happen next… I am going to remove the rest of your clothes and worship the rest of your body… I am going to suck those pretty nipples of yours until you cum from it- that will be your second orgasm… then I am going to eat that tight ass of yours until you come a third time… and finally… I am going to fuck you so deep in your pretty pink pussy until your womb is overflowing with my cum and then I will allow you to come a forth time.”

His tone was dark and heavy, and leaving no room for argument. This was not a suggestion this was a full-on command. There would be no democratic discussions on how this would go; this was going to be a dictatorship on my pussy that he was going to conquer and claim.

“Okay…” I said weakly and his eyes showed me that he was pleased, and he was smirking as he leaned over my body, his face closing in on mine as he raises his sniper hood just enough for his lips to hover over mine.

“Braves mädchen.” he says huskily before capturing my lips in a dominate kiss.

Taglist

@poohkie90

@patienceunique (only because you replied to my question about this yesterday lol if you want to be taken off I will do so xD)

@gremlinmodetweeker

@marley-suguru4143

@cyaniderainfall

[yoshikoooo]

WIND BREAKER HCS |

Featuring: Kaji ren, Sakura Haruka. Synopsis: You snapped. Similar to how Kaji snaps. Warnings: slight ooc, no established relationship, kinda long, violence ofc, mention of blood, overdose, a lil angst if you squinT.

✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮Kaji ren✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮

He knows that. after all he have been through that. and still is going through that

Being childhood friends with kaji, he eventually knew that you had a monster inside you too. or maybe much worst than him..

it was one time when you guys were still in pre-school and you snapped at your classmate who was messing with your hair and that resulted to showing that side of you.

and that's where you guys found each other.

although you both have differences.

He uses candies and a headphones to block out the noises to stay human but you? you're a fucking monster who knows how to act sane enough.

you both hated that inhumane side, and with that similarities the both of you got along well.

He did sometimes question how you managed staying sane without any remedy and you simply looked at him blankly.

"Staying sane?" you chuckled softly "You assume I ever was."

and that's where it clicked to him. you were trouble.

you unknowingly met Kaji on the way.

"What are you doing here" the stick of his lollipop shifting between his teeth.

“A friend needed a little help,” you replied. The words felt hollow, you couldn’t bring yourself to explain. “Just wanted to return the favor.”

Your steps halted abruptly, your eyes widening at the sight before you—your friend, crumpled on the ground, surrounded by a group of men. Bruises painted their body in shades of purple and blue, their form barely recognizable.

Your cheerful facade almost cracked, your smile twitching as the weight of rage began to settle. Kaji moved to rush forward, but your hand shot out, gripping his wrist tightly. He glanced at you in surprise, but you didn’t say a word.

You had already lost it.

and he knew.

Within moments, the ground was littered with their groaning forms, some writhing, others motionless. One remained in your grasp, their face battered beyond recognition as your fists continued to rain down mercilessly.

The muffled voices of Kaji echoed faintly in the background, but they never reached you—not truly. you felt a pang somewhere deep within. You’d hit Kaji in the frenzy, hadn’t you? But the thought barely registered, drowned out by the roaring in your ears.

but before you could land another punch, a firm hand caught your wrist mid-air.

and that's where you finally snapped back to reality

“Don’t get in my way, Kaji-kun,” you warned, your voice low and unnervingly calm, a dark smile tugging at your lips.

“Are you an animal…?” his tone steady despite the tension in the air, ignoring your warning entirely.

You tilted your head, meeting his gaze at last. “Well, aren’t we all?” you murmured,

His grip didn’t falter. “You’re better than this, Y/N,” he said simply, his voice soft but unyielding.

His words pierced through the fog, and the strength left your arm. Slowly, his grip loosened, and you let the battered man slip from your grasp, his body crumpling to the ground.

'right.. I'm a human... I'm a human...I'm a human... I'm a human...'

'Am I..?'

You forced an apologetic smile, though it felt hollow. “Sorry… I lost control,” your gaze faltering. Kaji said nothing, the weight of his silence pressing on you.

“I even hurt you…” you added, reaching toward his cheek but stopping short, your hand trembling before you let it fall.

"Don't give me that crap." he started and the lollipop he was crunching at were making sounds. “Get your head on straight.”

He tapped your shoulder lightly, as if to offer some kind of comfort, though the gesture felt awkward coming from him.

The lollipop crunched again as he finished it off, the stick dangling from his mouth. “Now stop standing around like a broken toy. We’ve got stuff to do.”

His words were blunt, but there was something about the way he said them that made you feel less… alone.

you chuckled in defeat.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

ღ¸.🌸´`🌸.¸¸ღSakura Harukaღ¸.🌸´`🌸.¸¸ღ

he met you in the middle of your chaos.

didn't really end well since he had a hard time trying to stop you without trying to hurt you badly.

and when he saw an opening he finally got to make you snap out of it.

you were an easy going person and you latched onto sakura quickly.

the both of you developed some kind of connection after that encounter.

He tries to push you away at first, unsure how to handle your intensity, but secretly grows attached.

poor boy was just not honest

You tried resorting to meds and it somehow did work.

" don't use those white stuff too much you might get overused" he said as he looked away, you simply chuckled "You mean overdosed?"

he blushed intensely "jus' the same!" he huffed as he crossed his arms.

It was late, the dead of night cloaking the streets in shadows, when Sakura trudged home after an exhausting overtime shift at his part-time job. His thoughts were fogged with weariness as he approached his apartment.

As he passed by the rundown playground—a space that barely deserved the name—he froze. The scene before him made his breath catch in his throat.

“Y/N?” he called out, his voice barely more than a whisper, yet laced with disbelief.

Under the dim glow of a flickering streetlamp, you sat amidst a scattered mess of bodies—men beaten and groaning, some eerily still. Blood stained the concrete in dark splotches.

You, however, were unmoving, your gaze fixed on the empty expanse of the night sky. There was no expression on your face, no flicker of life in your eyes. You seemed utterly disconnected from the chaos around you.

sakura was already right beside you and you can't even notice him nor even hear any of his voice that is repeatedly chanting your name.

Finally, he reached out, his hand tentative as it moved toward your shoulder.

The moment his fingers brushed against you, your body moved on instinct. Your hand shot out, slapping his away with a force that made him flinch.

Your eyes met his at last, no longer blank but burning with something raw—fear, anger, or something he couldn’t quite place. It froze him in his spot.

Sakura exhaled shakily, lowering his hand. “Y/N,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, steady despite the unease. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”

You simply stared at him, your silence more terrifying than any words you could have spoken.

Sakura swallowed hard, his throat dry as his gaze remained locked with yours. He didn’t dare look away, though every instinct told him to.

Before he could process it, you were suddenly in front of him, your fist raised, poised to strike. His eyes widened, but he didn’t move, didn’t flinch.

Your fist hovered there, trembling slightly, but you stopped just short of his face, snapping back to reality in the final moment.

The tension in your body drained as realization settled in, your hand slowly lowering.

Sakura’s expression remained calm, as though he’d anticipated your reaction.

Without hesitation, he reached out and lightly tapped your shoulder, a small, grounding gesture that felt heavier than words.

“Sakura…?” your voice wavered as you spoke his name, your features softening for the first time.

He hummed in acknowledgment, his voice low and steady. “I’m here.”

The simplicity of his words cut through the lingering fog in your mind, grounding you in the present.

The adrenaline that had fueled you drained, leaving behind only exhaustion and guilt.

“I…” you began, but the words caught in your throat. What could you say? Sorry for almost hitting him? Sorry for losing control? It felt meaningless.

He shook his head slightly, as if reading your thoughts. “Don’t,” he said softly. “Just breathe.”

The faint groans of the men you’d taken down reached your ears, and your stomach twisted. You took a shaky step back, your breath hitching.

“Hey.” His voice was sharp, snapping your attention back to him. “Look at me.”

You did, your eyes meeting his steady gaze. He wasn’t judging you, wasn’t angry. Just… there.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice softer now. “This place—it doesn’t need any more of you.”

He turned and started walking, his pace slow enough for you to follow. For a moment, you stayed rooted to the spot, torn between staying with your guilt and moving forward.

But his voice broke through again, this time over his shoulder. “You coming, or do I have to carry you?”

That earned a faint huff of laughter from you, and your feet finally moved. You followed him.

"Thanks sakura kun..."

[troublcmakcrs]

//me, biting my knuckles as i try so hard not to associate modest mouse's "the view" with every single one of my muses, having craig & tweek thoughts about it-

[freshydip]

Gravity Falls watchers: what is your most rewatched episode of Gravity Falls and why?

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Tag Team (Deadpool/Wolverine)

Description: Wade is distracted during a mission so afterwards all 3 of them fuck in the Honda.

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 1,773k

Request:

IM OBSESSED WITH WADE AND LOGAN AS A TEAM... May I request a smut where both of them fuck fem!Reader?

Idk reader could also be a hero and it happens during a mission, I trust your writing!!!

Wade had been distracted the entire mission. It was to the point that Logan was getting annoyed with him even more than usual. Y/N had no clue what they were fighting about but was also annoyed with both of them. “Can you guys shut the fuck up?” She growled at them. They both stopped arguing and looked at her, “Can you stop being so hot?” Wade asked. She rolled her eyes and put her finger to her mouth to shush him. “Yes mommy.” Logan looked at him with disgust.

Wade was a kinky son of a bitch but Logan never got used to it. They were trying to kill bad guys but Wade was about to ruin it. Y/N had been so into the mission she had failed to see both of them checking her out. She did have blood all over her but what was new? Wade and Logan both had it bad for the girl but Y/N was oblivious. Before Wade could say anything else the bad guys appeared and they had to kill.

Y/N shot at them, never missing. Logan clawed them up and managed to get more blood on them than before. Wade? Well he was still distracted and barely did anything, “WHAT THE FUCK, WADE?” Y/N yelled at him. She pulled him right out of his dirty thoughts. “Y/N and I just did all the work.” Logan added. “Well my bad that I can’t stop thinking about taking you both to a whole new world of pleasure.” Y/N stared at him with a blank look.

She was really tired of him acting like this, especially on a mission. “Well next time don’t come.” She said and walked away from him. Logan followed but not before growling at him. “Oh come on! You guys act like this isn’t hot as fuck.” He whined, catching up to them. “What’s hot about killing people, Wade?” “EVERYTHING!!” Y/N sighed and stopped walking. “Wade, I’m very flattered but now is not the time.” She said to him. “Wait so there’s a time?” He asked. She sighed and started walking again. 

The Honda Odyssey was the only “bed” that they had which sucked ass but it had to work. They all reeked of blood and guts but Wade couldn’t stop thinking about fucking Y/N in it. “So about earlier, is now the time?” He asked. Logan rolled his eyes and Y/N sighed. She sat up in the backseat and stared at him.

He was still wearing his mask and Logan took his off. “Wade, don’t you wanna fuck in a bed?” She asked, looking around the car. “Honey, I would fuck you in a volcano.” Yeah cuz that was a turn on. She looked at Logan, “What about you?” She asked him. He opened his eyes to look at her, “I wouldn’t fuck you in a volcano but this is all we have.” She laughed at his words and put her weapons on the floor.

“Alright guys. Let’s have some fun.” Wade was out of the car and to the backseat before she could finish her sentence. Logan got on the other side of her and she looked between them, “I’m not sure how this will wo-” Both of them attached their mouths to her neck. She gasped at the sudden action of them and she never noticed that Wade lifted his mask. Their lips moved sloppily on her neck, leaving marks. She gripped both of their necks and pulled them closer. They both placed a hand on her upper thigh and she leaned back against the seat, taking them with her.

Her eyes were closed as they marked her neck until she had purple spots. Logan moved down to her cleavage and Wade’s hand brushed against her pussy. She gasped at the feeling of both of them. Logan kissed and sucked the top of boob while Wade managed to get his fingers in her body suit to her bare pussy, “Holy shit.” She breathed out and he chuckled. “Ya like that princess?” Wade asked as his fingers rubbed her clit.

She was soaked and had been for a few hours now. Logan moved from her tit to the floor and spread her legs. “Move your fingers you Merc.” Logan said to Wade. Wade whined but did anyway so Logan could feast on her pussy. “Take this off.” He demanded her. She undid her body suit and Logan helped her get it off until she was fully naked in nothing but gloves and her boots. Logan chuckled as he looked at her wet pussy.

He sniffed her and sighed, “Fuck darling you smell delicious.” He told her and licked up her clit. She threw her head back and moaned. Wade watched as Logan ate her out and got even harder. He looked at Y/N who had her eyes closed and her breathing was harder. He leaned back too and turned her head towards him and kissed her. She weakly kissed back and moaned into his mouth. Logan was eating her out like an animal eating its first meal.

It was everything. Her hands gripped his hair making him moan into her pussy. The vibration made her whine and Wade stuck his tongue in her mouth. She let his tongue explore her mouth and Logan’s explored her pussy. Her hips bucked into his mouth and she shuddered at how close she was, “I’m gonna cum!” She whined into the kiss. “Cum on his beautiful face.” Wade told her and that did it. She fucked her hips up into his face and came all over. Wade praised her as she rode her sweet orgasm.

Logan flattened his tongue as she did all the work until the pleasure was gone. He pulled away from her pussy and smirked at her. She loved the sight of him covered in her cum. Wade did as well, “Damn wish that was me.” Logan got back onto the seat next to her and kissed her, giving her a taste. She moaned into his mouth. “Fuck that’s so hot.” Wade said. Y/N pulled away from the kiss and moved to kiss Wade giving him a taste as well. While they were kissing she took his mask off and threw it on the ground. Wade was never insecure around them.

They made him feel loved. She broke the kiss and moved in between his legs. He looked down in shock as she pulled out his dick. “Kiss.” She told them and without protest they did. She smirked as she watched for a second before running her pretty fingers over Wade’s cock. He gasped into the kiss. She wrapped her hand around him and jerked him off a few times before taking him into her mouth. Her mouth was the best thing to fuck.

It was wet and warm and felt so good. She placed her hands on his thighs and gave him the best blow job of his life. Wade was the loudest one out of the three of them. He fucked up into her mouth as the car rocked. The windows steamed up as they kissed and she gave him the best blow job ever. “Fuck. Your mouth is amazing, baby.” He moaned.

Logan watched as his dick went in and out of her mouth. Sure her mouth was good but her pussy was even better. Logan and Wade stopped kissing once Wade got really close. He threw his head back and cried out as he came in her throat. She pulled off of him and pulled Logan down for a kiss. She let Wade’s cum travel into Logan’s mouth and he swallowed. Wade gasped as he had never seen anything like that before.

Y/N smirked at him and got back in between them. “So I want all or nothing. You both have to be inside of me at the same time.” She says and they both nod before getting naked. She got on the center console of the car and they both managed to get their dicks in her at the same time. Their car was small but it managed to work. Y/N gasped at both of them penetrating her at the same time. Logan tried to let her adjust to the size but Wade didn’t care and started thrusting.

Her moans were loud inside the car and it felt very hot. Her jaw was dropped and her bloody hair was wet with sweat as well. Wade laid his head on the head of the carseat and groaned out. Logan who had more stanamia than both of them was fucking her fast and hard. Wade tried to keep up but it felt better this way.

“Shit you both are so fucking good.” She whined as one dick would hit her spot and then the other would right after. “You’re one to talk princess, your pussy is so perfect.” Wade groaned. Her moans turned to screams as she started thrusting back on them. The perfect rhythm began and all 3 of them were making loud noises. The heat of the car made things more intense.

Logan’s hand that was gripping one side of her hip was squeezing to the point of bruises. Y/N wished more than anything that she could see how fucked out they both looked but that was the con with doggy style. Especially in a small car. Wade groaned as he felt her pussy squeeze them, “Fuck princess, I’m about to cum.” He announced.

Y/N smirked before moaning as she squeezed them tighter cuz a loud moan to release from Logan. He barely moaned but when he did it was amazing and hot. “Fuck sweetheart, If you do that again I’m gonna cum too.” “That’s the plan.” She whimpered and squeezed them. “Where do ya want it, pretty girl?” “Inside of me. Both of you.” She cried as she too felt closer to the edge.

Wade groaned loudly as he came hard inside of her pretty pussy. Logan was a few seconds later and stilled behind her as he came. Y/N helped them ride it out as she came next screaming their names. The car smelled of sweat and sex as they both pulled out of her. Wade collapsed back against the seat and sighed, “Man I do love a good tag team after a crazy mission.” He said. Logan glared at him, “You didn’t even help.” Y/N turned around to look at the two. “Boys don’t start.” She warned and got in the middle of them. “Maybe if you guys are good we can go for round 2.” She smirked and brought them both in for a kiss.

[rileyslibrary]

After suffering a gunshot wound, you wake up in a hospital bed with Ghost sitting by your side. Unfortunately, the effects of anaesthesia leave you unable to recognise him and, worse, confuse him with someone else.

A/N: Fluff. Based on a request I received a while ago. Hope you like it, anon!

———————————————————————

A machine on your left beeps rhythmically. The taste of something metallic lingers in your mouth, and the iodine smell stinks your nostrils. Your eyes open slowly, but the bright ceiling light forces them shut again. You lick your lips and attempt to swallow a couple of times. Dry. Your mouth is dry. You need water. Your hand moves towards your face, but a low, raspy voice advises you against it.

“Careful now,” it says, and a hand gently grabs your wrist. “Don’t pull the IV off.”

You turn your head towards the figure beside you and squint. It’s a man, but your blurry vision doesn’t help you identify him. Your eyes travel to your wrist and focus on the closest part of him: a skeleton’s hand.

You try to shake your hand off his grip, but it turns out futile. Frustrated, you give up and raise your middle finger at him.

“Not my time yet,” you declare. “Fuck off.”

“Pardon?” he asks.

“Not ready to go yet,” you reply, tucking your middle finger in your palm and lifting it back up again. “And also, fuck off.”

The man releases your wrist, placing your hand gently beside you. He clears his throat and leans forward. Though your vision remains blurry, you spot what looks like a human skull with a hood over it.

“How are you feeling, love?” he asks, his tone softer.

“How am I feeling, love?” you repeat. “Did Hell improve their customer service?”

“I’m not-” The man begins but pauses. He sighs, shakes his head and rests his elbows on his thighs. “Never mind.”

“Where am I?” You ask.

“Hospital.” He replies. “You took a bullet.”

Directing your attention to your body, you feel a dull throb in your chest. You wince as your fingers brush against the bandages.

“You are joking.” You reply and slap your hand on the bed. “Why? How?”

“Well,” He says and tilts his head to the side. “You exchanged a few shots with the enemy, your gun ran out of bullets, his didn’t, and here we are.”

“My gun?” You ask, shocked. “I have a gun?”

“Several.” He nods.

“SEVERAL?” You shout. “Why would I possibly need several guns?”

“It’s your job, love.” He replies.

“My job is to have several guns?” you ask. “And shooting at people?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way,” he explains, “but it’s mainly for defence.”

“Well,” you shrug and wince at the pain. “Doesn’t look like I’m that good at defence—especially for having several guns.”

“I was really worr—”

“Water,” you interrupt and gesture at your mouth. “I need water.”

“Doctor said it’s not the time for water yet,” he replies.

“Why?” you ask, pretending to check a non-existent wristwatch. “What time is it?”

“No, love,” he replies and muffles a chuckle. “Doctor said you need to wait until you have some water.”

“You throw the ‘love’ thing a little too freely,” you mumble, licking your lips and lifting your index finger. “I’d be really careful if I were you.”

“Really?” he asks, leaning back into the chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Why?”

“I,” you say and point at yourself, “got a boyfriend, thank you very much.”

“Oh,” he exclaims and tilts his head. “Is that so.”

“Yup,” you nod. “And he can kill you.”

“Can he?”

“Can?” You say, and a smug smile forms on your dry lips. “He will absolutely, one hundred and a thousand per cent kill you.”

“Is he that good?” He asks.

“I mean,” you shrug, motioning at the bandages on your chest. “He’s much better than I am.”

“Oh wow,” he exclaims and leans forward. “Is he as good of a boyfriend as he is a shooter?”

“Far from it,” you reply, letting your hand fall to your side.

The man doesn’t speak. He doesn’t seem that comfortable all of a sudden. He shuffles in his chair, trying to find a better position, and when he does, he clasps his hands together.

“Go on,” he finally says. “Spill it.”

“Ok, so,” you begin, “first things first, he doesn’t listen to me when I want to vent, and whenever he does, all he says is nonsense.”

“The lad gives you solutions,” he snaps, “and you call them nonsense?”

“I don’t want solutions, man,” you reply, shaking your head. “I want him to just listen to me.”

“Even if the solutions he provides are literally the answers to your suffering?”

“Even then.” You confirm.

“Gotcha,” he nods. “What else?”

“Oof,” you sigh, “how much time do you have?”

“I’m immortal,” he reminds you, “plus the next reaping is in five hours.”

“Oh boy,” you reply. “Business not going that well lately, huh?”

“Not many deaths to take care of,” he spits. “I guess some people could use some serious training when it comes to their aim.”

“Speaking of training,” you say, “he’s always at work and never spends much time with me.”

“The guy’s trying to spend as much time with you as he can, for fucks sake!” he shouts, throwing his hands up. “He even lied to get you on his team!”

“How do you know he put me on his team?” You ask.

“I keep a close eye on him.” He replies.

“What did he lie about?”

“Your precision in aiming,” he jokes and motions for you to continue. “Next one.”

“I can’t think of anything else,” you reply. “Other than he doesn’t say how much he loves me.”

“You’re having a laugh now, aren’t you?” He says, and his tone feels almost threatening. “He’s showing it to you daily; offering advice, keeping you close to him, even risking the possibility of being accused of nepotism for crying out loud! He doesn’t need to say it as well for you to know it!”

“It’s just nice to hear it sometimes,” you sigh and twist a thread from the bed sheet. You turn your head slightly toward him, and he lowers his head to the ground.

“How about you?” You ask. “You have a girlfriend?”

“I do,” he confirms.

“Shut up!” You shout, widening your eyes and immediately closing them back again. “Where did you guys meet?”

“Hell,” he replies. “Right in the pits of it.”

“How is she?” You ask.

“Perfect.” He states.

“Bullshit,” you murmur. “No one’s perfect.”

“She is to me.” He says, shrugging.

“Do you love her?” You ask.

“Absolutely,” he replies, nodding slowly. “One hundred and a thousand per cent I do.”

———————————————————————

[nanaslutt]

The nastiest man alive

ft.Geto Suguru

contains: fem reader, spitting, finger sucking, spanking, begging, dirty talk, rough sex, dacraphillia, cum eating, unprotected sex, cumming inside, multiple rounds, established relationship

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Geto had you on top of him riding his cock, his thick fingers digging into the fat of your ass as he helped move you up and down on his cock, his feet planted firmly on the bed so he could meet your thrusts halfway, fucking into you from underneath. "Fuck mama your pussy is so fucking loud~" Geto groaned, his eyes glued to where the two of you were connected.

You squealed in embarrassment, your moan turning into a yelp when Geto landed a heavy hand down on the fat of your ass, gripping the skin there. He watched with a slacked jaw as your cunt leaked all over his pelvis, a white ring of your cum sitting at the base of his cock from how wet you were.

Your legs suddenly tensed up when Geto thrust his cock straight into a particularly sensitive spot inside you, making your nails dig into the skin over his abs. He watched your head tip back, your mouth falling open as he quickly caught on, smiling as he fucked his cock into that same spot over and over, leaving you weak on top of him, your body bouncing weakly atop his thighs.

"What's wrong baby? 'S it feel good right here? Hmm? Right here?" Geto teased, watching your face closely as he bullied his cock inside of you, a hand sliding in front of you to rub at your clit. "Sugu- Fuck!" You whined, gritting your teeth together as both of your hands shot to his wrist, gripping his hand to try and get him to slow down--or you were going to cum.

"Nuh uh, just take it, baby, take my cock 'n my fingers~" He groaned, planting his feet closer to his body against the sheets so he could get better leverage while he fucked you. You could do nothing but whine and moan helplessly on top of Geto as he fucked the life out of you, feeling yourself quickly spiral toward your first orgasm of the night from his relentless pleasuring.

His fingers splayed themselves out against your pelvis, his thumb rubbing quickly circles against your clit, the wetness from your leaking pussy making the slide feel so fucking good. Your chin tipped down to look at the man underneath you when you felt yourself approach your high--only seconds away from tipping off the edge.

Geto knew this, of course, he knew your body better than he knew his own. Your pussy was squeezing and pulsing rhythmically around his cock, acting as if it was trying to milk him for all he was worth--of course, he knew you were about to cum. "Sugu- Sugu I'm gonna cum-" You warned him, rocking your hips against his hand, making his thumb rub your swollen clit harder.

"I know baby I know, I got you." He giggled, his eyes flitting between your own teary and your sopping wet cunt, greedily swallowing up his thick cock. You felt the first hot tear roll down your cheeks, the droplet sliding down your rosy face and finding its way to your neck, mixing with your sweat and making it unrecognizable.

"You cryin' from my cock? It feels that good?" Geto asked, cockiness laced in his tone. You would've tried to respond with something just as smart if you could, but unfortunately for you, your orgasm decided to hit you just as his words did.

"Oh fuck- Good girl, I got you mama-" Geto groaned, fucking you through your high. "I won't stop till you're done." He added, biting his lip between his teeth as he watched your body shake and jolt on top of him. Your cunt clenched around his cock like a vice, he had to take deep breaths in order to keep humping his cock into your warm walls and not spill his seed inside you.

Tears streamed down your face from both of your eyes as you came all over his cock, one of your hands falling from his wrist to catch yourself on his sturdy abs, your nails digging into his pale skin. Geto's heart sped up in his chest--of course, he didnt like seeing you sad or crying, but when it was from his dick? That was a different story.

"Ohmygod-" You whined as you started coming down, Geto noticing the way your cunt's spasms calmed down around you, his thrusts stopping in tandem. You gripped his wrist hard, signaling for him to stop rubbing your sensitive clit or you were going to pass out from the overstimulation.

Geto felt like he had come just from watching you, your expressions were so cute when you came, and the way your body was completely at his mercy while you were in such a vulnerable state made him feel high.

While you were busy catching your breath and waiting for your brain to start functioning properly again, Geto took the opportunity to sit up and wrap a strong arm around your body. His other hand came up to cradle your face. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes as you gasped and whined from the new angle, Geto's still hard cock was pushing against your most sensitive spots inside you like this.

"Did so good baby, how did that feel?" He asked, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. You kept your eyes shut while you spoke, letting Geto pamper your face with kisses. "'S good Sugu, thought I died for a second there." You said, resulting in a giggle from the dark-haired man.

"Yeah? Guess I did something right then huh?" He asked. It was your turn to laugh at his words, his arm wrapping tighter around your body as he kissed your face, making your bodies press flush together.

You were about to let Geto know you were ready to go again when you felt something wet and hot press against your face, the soft feeling rubbing along the length of your cheek, sliding up to your eye before it was gone, a trail of cold, wet, saliva left in its wake--Geto had just licked your tears away.

You cracked your eyes open, the undersides of your eyes a slight pinkish-red color from your crying. You stared at him with raised eyebrows, your mouth open in a small o. Geto smiled at you before pressing a kiss to your lips, "Salty." He mumbled, his hands sliding down the sides of your body and landing on your thighs as he flopped back down onto the bed, his hair sprawling out around him perfectly. How was it possible for someone to be so handsome?

"You'll swallow anything won't you?" You asked him, faux disgust plastering itself on your face as you leaned forward over him, placing your hands by his shoulders on the bed. Geto's hands came to grip the fat of your ass, massaging the fat there soothingly. "If it comes from you I'll drink up anything.~," Geto said cheesily, making you scoff.

"So dirty." You said, referring to his mouth as you gripped his chin in your hand, shaking it back and forth to emphasize your words before you placed it back down on the sheets next to his head. His hands gripped the skin of your ass before he landed another smack, making your body jolt at the unexpected feeling, a gasp slipping from your lips.

"Only for you," Geto said, smiling as he slowly began thrusting his cock inside your hole. The two of you quickly got back into a rhythm, you shut your eyes and moaned into the room as you fucked your hips back onto his cock slowly, meeting his shallow thrusts. "How are you even softer inside? Huh?" Geto asked, tipping his head to the side, trying to get a view of your pussy that was being obstructed by your body so close to his.

"Was it from how hard I made you cum? Or maybe it's so soft from how good my dick is at loosening you up." Geto babbled, making you clench around him. You felt yourself drip at his words, his slow teasing thrusts working you over so well. "S-stop talking." you chastized, squeezing your eyes together tighter as you focused on how deep he was inside you.

Geto giggled, his fingers sliding down to where the two of you met to tease around the entrance of your cunt, rubbing the opening of your cunt and the base of his cock with V-shaped fingers as he collected some of your wetness there. "Why? My words make you too horny?" He teased, keeping his eyes on your face as he watched your expression screw together as he rubbed the outside of your pussy.

His fingers were gone as soon as they came. One of his hands stayed on your ass, helping you fuck yourself on his cock while the other; covered in your cum; pressed itself to your pouted lips, the unexpected feeling making you peel your eyes open to look at him. "Open," Geto spoke, the teasing tone that was just in his voice long gone as he instructed you to suck his fingers coated in your wetness.

You obeyed his words, your mouth splitting and your tongue falling out as you let Geto slide his fingers inside your mouth. "That's it.. taste yourself for me." He whispered, fucking his hips into you harder, feeling himself throb at the sight and feeling of your lips wrapping around his thick fingers.

You moaned around them, your tongue sliding around the digits and simultaneously licking off the liquid around them as Geto watched you with an open mouth, groaning at the sight. "Don't swallow." He instructed, pressing his fingers deeper inside of your mouth, watching with furrowed eyebrows as you gagged around them.

Geto's body jerked when he felt your body react, your throat squeezing around the tips of his fingers as he continued thrusting them inside your mouth. Drool had started to leak from the sides of your lips, sliding down his fingers and creating quite a mess on his hand. One that made his balls clench with the need to fill you this instant.

"God I love how fucking messy you are with it." Geto praised, keeping his eyes glued to your mouth, his hips fucking into you harder, making you release frequent moans and whines around his fingers, vibrating them. "Suckin' them like you suck my cock, they taste that good? Huh? You like the taste of your sweet pussy?" Geto teased, biting his lip harshly between his teeth, his own words riling him up.

He groaned when you nodded, his fingers popping out from between your lips as he pulled them back unexpectedly, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his thick fingers. You watched as Geto brought the messy fingers down to his lips, licking off your remnants.

You cringed slightly at his shameless display of the need to drink up everything that came from your body. He really was a nasty nasty man. A deep blush spread across your face as he pulled his fingers from his mouth after cleaning them off, the hand going back to join his other in helping you fuck yourself on his dick.

"Let me taste you pretty. Cmon, give me a tatse." Geto begged. Tipping his head back, he stuck out his tongue, his hips thrusting into you harder as he waited for you to understand what he meant. The dull taste of your pussy on his tongue from his fingers wasn't enough, he needed more, he needed to taste exactly what you did--and instead of scooping some more up directly from the source, Geto thought of a better way to taste you, a filthier way, one more fitting for him.

"Spit in my mouth mama, dont keep me waiting." He begged, his cheeks dusting pink as he felt himself get closer and closer to his high--waiting for the final thing you needed to give him to push him over the edge. "You can't be s-serious-" You moaned, getting cut off by a groan when he made you roll your ass down against him harder, his cock drilling into your sweet spot from the new angle.

"So fucking serious, I need it, spit in my mouth pretty cmon, cmon, just once, please. He begged, sticking his tongue out once more as he waited patiently to feel it. You felt your entire body heat up at his request. Sure, he had spit in your mouth before, but never the other way around. You were shocked he wanted you to do something like this, you knew Geto was dirty but this felt.. extra dirty for some reason, especially with the way he was begging.

"Y-you're so disgusting Suguru." You whispered, and with that, you grabbed his chin and leaned forward. Geto stuck his tongue out further, moaning shamelessly as he waited for you to spit in his mouth. You wadded up a glob of saliva in your mouth, hyping yourself up you took a deep breath before you just--did it.

Geto moaned a drawn-out moan when he felt your spit hit his tongue, the saliva immediately being swallowed by the man under you before he stuck his tongue back out to show you he had swallowed it, a fucked out smile on his face.

You whined, your lip pouted out in embarrassment before you leaned forward to crash your lips with his, tasting exactly what he just had on your tongue. The two of you moaned and whined into the other's mouth, the kiss being so full of teeth and tongue as he humped his cock into you at an inhuman pace, his balls ready to fill you full of his cum.

"Thank you- thank you fuck- cuming baby- cum- nghhh-" Geto's groan was cut off when you pressed your lips back on his, his mouth opening slightly into the kiss as his cock shot hot ropes of cum deep inside you, his hips thrusting his dick to the hilt inside you, pulling back he fucked the entirety of his cock into you over and over again as he came, his cock hitting your cervix making you whine and cry in painful pleasure as you milked him of everything he was worth.

You broke the kiss, hiding your head in the crook of his neck to whine and gasp into the skin there, the puffs of your rapid breaths tickling his skin. Geto's eyes were squeezed shut as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm, holding your body tightly against his, your hearts syncing up to bead rapidly with one another, sounding like you had just run a marathon.

Once Geto's cock started softening inside of you, he started rubbing his hands over your back soothingly, scratching his nails over your skin as he listened to you hum in appreciation into his neck. "You did so well for me baby, you feelin' okay? Anything hurt?" Geto whispered, tilting his head agaisnt the side of your face.

You shook your head, wrapping your hands over his shoulders, keeping your face buried in his neck. "I'm a little embarrassed though." You mumbled, feeling your face heat up with the realization of what he had made you do.

Geto burst out in a laugh, his body shaking yours on top of him. He pressed a kiss to the side of your face between giggles, a heavy hand coming to pet your hair. "I'm so glad you put up with my requests, I love you." He whispered, pressing another kiss to the side of your temple. You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as you wrapped your body tighter around his, still not ready to come back to reality just yet.

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

Working at a restaurant with 141! (Part 1)

Let's get this out of the way, the restaurant fucking sucks. Don't even know how it's still open. The food is terrible. The owner is an incompetent drunk who's never there. You got referred to the job from a friend of a friend. You did an interview with the head chef/manager, John. He hired you because you were hot.

"The fuckin ass on that one, huh?"

Just like any man that works in a restaurant, they're all horny fucks who love to tease you. You'd run back to the kitchen and ask to tweak an order. Price would wink and say:

"Next time it's gonna cost ya."

When it gets slow (which was all the time), you'd sit in the back and chat about how they met and what they did with their lives. They all get paid under the table for various reasons. Johnny takes smoke breaks with you, sometimes Price joins. Gaz pours shots for everyone after "busy" nights (busy meaning there was an hour where there were two tables to serve instead of one). Ghost... well he's strictly work. Sometimes he engages in banter with the guys, but he only acknowledges you when needed.

Your first month flies by, you basically get paid to sit around and talk with the most charming men on the planet, and Simon.

"He'll warm up eventually. Just gotta loosen 'em up, just like any tight ass."

Soap smirked as he leaned against a counter while everyone was wrapping up for the night.

"Don't you have dishes to put away?"

Ghost snapped while wiping down his station. At least he was nice to look at.

You and Gaz would roll up the forks and knives talking about bullshit, knees touching. Soap and you would light each others smokes by touching one lit end to the unlit one, all while still holding the cigarettes in your mouths (he called it a cigarette kiss). Price would constantly make food for you:

"Gotta plump you up 'fore it starts getting cold, yeah?"

He'd look you up and down while sliding you a basket of fries. And Simon? Cold as ever. Even when he started driving you to and from work because your car broke down. He drove like a madman, but it was totally silent. You made the mistake of reaching for the radio once, he gave a admonitory grunt and you snatched your hand away.

As time went on, you got comfortable with everyone and they got comfortable with you. It started with suggestive jokes.

"Simon's just straightforward, doesn't beat around the bush."

Price said one day while prepping vegetables with Ghost.

"What are you talking about? He beats around the bush all the time Price, you know that."

Soap walked by with a shit eating grin while he was carrying a bucket of dishes to the back. Uproar from the guys. Ghost storms off following Johnny, knife in hand. You want to stop him, but Gaz places a hand on your shoulder.

"Best not to do that, just let 'em settle that amongst themselves."

Johnny comes back disheveled, wearing a different shirt. Simon is stone faced as usual as he goes back to prep. It only got worse after that.

You'd watch as the boys messed with each other more; pats on the back, that turns to squeezes on the shoulders, that turned to slaps on the ass.

"They're just handsy," you think to yourself.

Eye contact that lingers for a second too long.

"They're just close friends," you think to yourself.

Compliments that boarder on harassment.

"They're just joking around," you think to yourself.

Then you entered the walk-in freezer, only to make direct eye contact with Johnny as he has Kyle's dick down his throat.

"Oh, uh-huh..." you think to yourself.

You didn't look at their faces for a week, they acted as if nothing happened. Then, the flirting only got worse.

"Behind!"

Price would yell while grinding up against Simon's ass when passing behind him.

"Yes, Chef."

He'd respond while he continued cooking, unfazed. They seemingly shared clothes: the younger guys preferred to don John and Simon's apparel all the time. You stopped going into the walk-in for a while, you figured you'd give Gaz and Soap some privacy (although they didn't seem to mind an audience). Christ, was everyone fucking everyone here?

You were taking a smoke break with Price when he leaned back on the railing and adjusted himself, it wasn't really adjusting himself as it was more him gripping his thick dick and looking directly into your eyes. You nearly choked as he smiled.

Ghost threw you a hoodie when he dropped you off one night. It started raining before you got home and you were complaining about just getting your hair done. You tried to give it back but he refused to take it.

"Keep it. I don't care about that one anyways."

He shrugged. You'd wear the oversized hoodie to bed, the smell was comforting. Smoky, dusty, boozy, like Javanese vetiver. It smelled like a grown man. Delicious. Accidentally wore it to work one day when you were in a rush getting ready. That started a trend for the rest of them to get you to wear their clothes. It less of a trend and more of a competition honestly. They'd "accidentally" spill drinks or food on you.

"No worries, I've got an extra shirt in my car!"

They'd have a wide, cheeky smile plastered on their faces while giving you their shirt. Of course, they wouldn't take them back either; so you had a growing collection of huge shirts that you'd wear around your apartment. Eventually, you had to go back to the walk-in. Thankfully, there were no exhibitionists present. You were reaching to grab some ketchup when the door opened. You and Johnny stared at each other for a long moment.

"Need help getting that, bonnie?"

Before you could respond he was reaching over you, pressing his chest on your back. He handed you the bottle while his dick grew hard on your ass. He was breathing hard in your ear, waiting for your reaction. You pushed back on him and that's all he needed, he gripped your hips and grinded into you. Even through your jeans you could feel his dick twitch when you moaned. It was a hot minute of panting while he pulled you back onto him desperately, like he was trying to fuck you right through the denim. The door handle clicked. You both froze, staring at the entryway.

"Johnny?"

Gaz's head popped in. Your face got hot while he stared back and forth at the two of you. One thing led to another, and your pants are around your ankles while Johnny is face first in your wet folds. Kyle is standing behind you, fucking your thighs and leaving sloppy kisses on your neck.

"Pretty doll, how long have ye bin waiting fur this, huh?"

Soap looked up at you with so much adoration, like he was servicing a goddess.

"Gonna cum Johnn-"

Gaz whimpered and bit your shoulder to muffle his groans as he came right between your thighs and cunt. Soap cleaned up the mess greedily, savouring the taste of both your juices. He didn't stop eating you out until you finished. Gaz held you up while your knees buckled when you came undone. Gentlemen they are, pulled up your pants for you and wiped the smeared lipgloss from your face. You stumbled out of the freezer, walking past the kitchen. Price's eyes crinkled as he saw you head out onto the floor.

~

"You shouldn't do that in there. It's unsanitary. And a health code violation."

Simon looked straight ahead as he weaved between cars. You opened your mouth, but no words came to mind, so you just nodded. Your leg bounced nervously. He grabbed your thigh, stopping the movement. His hand stayed there until you were in front of your place. You stared at him, his brown eyes boring into you.

"G'night."

He pulled his hand away, placing both of them on the steering wheel. You walked into your apartment, dizzy with confusion. "What the fuck is going on?"

[winxanity-ii]

SINS OF DEVOTION [2/3]

ship: father charlie x fem!nun!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (p in v ; fem. receiving hand-job/fingering; overstimulation; creampie, wrap before you tap kiddos; coercion/dub-con?; sacrilege, heavy religious imagery) word count: 3.6k a/n: wasn't planning on expanding the one-shot, but here we are. i literally stayed up 7+ hours to write this just cuz i got a bunch of praise in the notes 😩 i'm weak... anywho this is a continuation of my previous one-shot, '𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.' If you haven't read that yet, I recommend starting there to understand the progression of their relationship….final part: 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

★·.·´ɢʀᴏᴛᴇsǫᴜᴇʀɪᴇ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

Ever since that night, you couldn't look Father Charlie in the eyes. How could you, when the man—the symbol of the glory of the Father above—had been buried between your thighs like a man starved?

Just looking at him brought back all the feelings, the emotions that twisted and churned inside you, leaving you breathless and overwhelmed.

Every time you saw him in the chapel, his gaze lingering on you from across the room, your heart would race, your skin tingling with the memory of his touch.

You would try to focus on your duties, your prayers, but the image of him kneeling before you, his mouth claiming every part of you, would flash in your mind, making you falter. Your hands would tremble, your voice would break, and you would feel heat rising in your cheeks, knowing he was watching you.

And he was always watching you.

His eyes would find yours whenever you entered a room, his gaze dark and intent, filled with a hunger that hadn't diminished in the slightest since that stormy night.

You could feel it even from a distance—the way his eyes seemed to follow your every movement, as if he was marking you as his. It made your breath catch, your body reacting in ways you couldn't control, a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through you.

It was a regular Sunday mass when he finally cornered you; a neighboring pastor was visiting, giving a sermon, while you were cleaning out one of the confessionals.

The faint sound of the sermon echoed in the background, the low, rhythmic cadence of the visiting pastor's voice carrying through the church. You were kneeling on the ground, scrubbing the tiles, your sleeves rolled up to keep them out of the soapy water.

The scent of cleaning solution hung in the air as you worked, your humming soft, almost absent-minded, a gentle hymn that you barely even noticed yourself singing.

You were so absorbed in your task that you didn't notice the shadow fall over you until it was too late. You looked up, startled, your eyes widening as you tried to regain your composure.

"I'm sorry, this confessional booth is out of commission at the moment, I'm cleaning—" Your words trailed off as your gaze traveled upward, and your breath caught in your throat when you realized who was standing there.

It was Father Charlie.

His presence filled the small space, and you could feel the air grow heavy around you, your pulse quickening as his eyes locked onto yours. There was something about the way he looked at you—something dark and knowing—that made your heart pound, your hands freezing where they rested on the damp cloth.

The brush slipped from your fingers, falling back into the soapy water with a splash that sprayed droplets onto the floor and your habit, snapping you out of your daze. You stuttered, "F-Father Charlie," quickly standing up, giving a short bow. "Blessed Sunday morning, Father."

Charlie's lips twitched up into a smile as he stepped further into the cramped confessional booth, the door closing with a soft click behind him. "Blessed Sunday to you as well, Sister ____."

Your eyes flickered to his lips, your breath catching as your mind flashed back to how he had used that very mouth to bring you to the brink of pleasure—his lips, his tongue, every sinful movement etched into your memory. You swallowed hard, your face warming at the thought, your hands fidgeting as you struggled to look anywhere but at him.

You cleared your throat, your voice coming out small. "Is there... is there anything I can do for you, Father?"

Charlie hummed thoughtfully, taking another step closer until he was right in front of you, the space between you almost nonexistent.

Your gaze dropped to his chest, the black fabric of his cassock filling your vision, the scent of him overwhelming—something warm and clean, with a hint of incense. You could feel your heart pounding, your breath hitching as he spoke, his voice low and deep.

"There are many things you could do for me, Sister," he murmured, his tone shifting, darkening, as his lips curled into a smirk. "We could pray... or perhaps," he paused, his eyes glinting as his voice dropped even lower, "you could help me find a different kind of release."

Your eyes widened at the crude implication, your gaze shooting up to meet his, only to find him already watching your face, his eyes hooded and dark, filled with a hunger that made your stomach twist.

You felt heat pooling low in your belly, the tension in the small space between you almost unbearable. You shook your head slightly, your voice coming out in a whisper, shaky and unsure. "Father Charlie, we shouldn't... we can't..."

Charlie didn't answer, not with words. Instead, he took another step forward, his body pressing against yours as he used his arms to cage you in, one hand bracing against the wall of the confessional beside your head. His other hand moved to cup your cheek, his fingers tilting your face upward, forcing you to meet his gaze.

You could feel his breath, warm against your skin, his face so close that your noses almost brushed. His eyes were dark, filled with something raw, something that made your knees feel weak.

He leaned in even closer, his lips hovering just above yours, his voice a whisper, almost pleading. "Do you know what you do to me, Sister? How you push me to sin, how you make me want things I shouldn't?"

His hand left your cheek, moving down to grab your wrist, guiding your hand between your bodies, pressing it firmly against the hardness straining beneath his cassock. Your breath caught in your throat, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you felt him, your eyes widening, your entire body tensing at the sensation.

"Feel that?" he whispered against your lips, his voice thick with desire. "That's what you do to me. Every time I see you, every time you look at me with those innocent eyes... you make me lose control."

You felt your heart racing, your mind spinning, a mix of fear and something else—something dark and thrilling—coursing through you as Father Charlie's hand held yours in place, his gaze locked onto yours, unrelenting, his lips brushing against yours in the barest of touches, waiting, coaxing you to give in.

Your thoughts raced. So many times since that night, you had fantasized about him, dreamed about him fully taking you, about giving in to the desires that had been eating away at you. But now, with him right in front of you, so desperate, so wanting, it made you dizzy.

You were a nun, a devoted daughter, a wife to the Lord—yet here you were, on the verge of surrendering. Your lips parted as you took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself, trying to cling to the last shreds of your faith.

But then you licked your lips, and you saw how his eyes immediately zeroed in on the movement, darkening with something almost primal. His gaze was intense, unblinking, and you felt the pull, the weight of his need, and it made something inside you snap.

With all the bravery you could muster, you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his.

It was soft, a gentle peck, barely more than a brush of your lips against his, but it was enough to make your heart race like you were running a marathon.

For a moment, you thought you could pull back, that this brief kiss could be enough to satisfy whatever it was burning between you.

But then Charlie groaned, the sound deep and raw, and before you could pull away, his hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you back to him, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that made your knees weak. His tongue slipped between your parted lips, invading your mouth, exploring, tasting.

The kiss was nothing like your timid attempt—it was fierce, overwhelming, consuming.

You felt his tongue caressing the inside of your mouth, tracing the shape of your teeth, stroking your own tongue, coaxing it to move with his. He moved slowly, deliberately, as if he had all the time in the world, as if he was savoring every second, every taste.

You felt your head grow light from the lack of air, your body trembling, but still, you were locked in the kiss, unable to pull away, unable to do anything but respond to him.

Your hands moved of their own accord, one of them gripping the front of his cassock, the other reaching up to tangle in his hair. The soft strands slipped through your fingers, and you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the way his body seemed to hum with tension, with need.

Charlie's other hand moved to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you could feel the hard lines of his body pressing into yours, the heat of him searing through the thin fabric of your habit. It made you feel like you were drowning in him, in his touch, his taste.

You whimpered against his lips, the sound muffled by the kiss, and he responded with a low growl, his hand tightening on your waist, his lips moving more insistently against yours.

Charlie pulled back, his forehead resting against yours as he panted, his breath hot and heavy, mingling with your own. His eyes were dark, filled with something raw and unrestrained, and he let out a low groan, his voice rough with desire. "I wish so badly to mark you up, to strip you down right here and lose myself in you," he murmured, his words sending a shiver down your spine. The explicitness of his words made your cheeks burn, your face flushing as you pressed it into his neck, trying to hide your embarrassment.

But he wasn't done. He tilted your chin back up, his thumb brushing over your flushed cheek, his eyes searching yours. "But it's too risky," he whispered, his voice filled with regret, and something almost feral. "So I'll settle for something much quicker."

As he spoke, his hands moved down, fingers traveling lower, bunching up the fabric of your tunic around your waist. His touch was frantic, almost desperate, his hands squeezing and kneading every inch of you he could reach, as if he couldn't get enough.

You could feel his fingers digging into your thighs, your hips, pulling you closer, pressing you against him, and it made your head spin, made your body ache with a need you didn't quite understand.

Your hands trembled as they found their place on his shoulders, your fingers hesitating, curling slightly in the fabric of his cassock. You wanted to touch him the way he was touching you, to let your hands explore, but you were too shy, too overwhelmed.

The intensity of his presence, the way his body felt against yours, it all left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.

Charlie's gaze remained locked on yours, his eyes dark and filled with something raw, something that made your pulse quicken. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low murmur, almost a growl. "You don't have to be afraid... just let me take care of you."

Your breath hitched, your body tensing as you felt his hands venture lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear. Your eyes widened, a soft gasp escaping your lips, but it was quickly swallowed by Charlie as he covered your mouth with his own, his lips moving against yours, silencing your small cries and whimpers.

His fingers moved with purpose, finding your most sensitive spot, rubbing slow circles against your clit. The sensation made your knees go weak, your body trembling against him as he worked you with an expertise that left you breathless.

You tried to pull away from the kiss, to catch your breath, but he wouldn't let you, his mouth insistent, his tongue coaxing yours to move with his, swallowing every sound you made.

Your hands clung to his shoulders, your fingers digging into the fabric as you felt his fingers slide lower, teasing your entrance before slowly pushing inside.

A muffled whimper escaped your throat, your body tensing at the intrusion, the sensation both strange and thrilling. He moved slowly, his fingers stretching you, coaxing your body to relax, to accept him. You could feel every movement, every inch as he filled you, his touch deliberate, patient.

His lips never left yours, his kiss growing deeper, more demanding, as if he could feel your hesitation and was trying to coax you further, to draw you into the darkness with him. He pulled back for just a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he spoke, his voice a low whisper, thick with desire. "You feel so good, Sister... so perfect. Just let go for me."

Before you could respond, before you could even catch your breath, his hand moved to your thigh, his fingers curling around your leg as he lifted it, wrapping it around his waist.

The new angle made everything more intense, his fingers sinking deeper, his thumb brushing against your clit, drawing a shuddering moan from your lips.

The warmth in your belly grew, turning into a small flame that licked at your insides, consuming every thought, every hesitation; your body responded to his touch, your hips moving against his hand, seeking more of the pleasure he was giving you.

Charlie's breathing grew shallow, his eyes darkening as he watched you, his gaze roaming over your flushed cheeks, the way your lips parted, the soft gasps escaping your throat.

Your thighs trembled, your body growing tense as you felt the pressure building, the sensation coiling tightly in your core, threatening to snap at any moment.

But just as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, just as the first waves of your orgasm began to crest, Charlie stopped. He pulled his fingers away, leaving you gasping, the sudden emptiness almost painful.

A soft, desperate whimper escaped your lips, your eyes fluttering open, wide and confused as you looked up at him.

He met your gaze, his lips curling into a wicked smile as he brought his fingers to his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours as he sucked them clean, his tongue swirling around each digit, savoring the taste of you. "You taste so sweet, Sister," he murmured, his voice thick with lust, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "I could spend all day between your thighs... but right now, I need something more."

He shifted, his hands moving to the waistband of his robe, shuffling the fabric around as he freed himself. You couldn't see anything, the fabric obscuring your view, but you felt it—the hard, heavy length of him brushing against your inner thigh, the sensation making your breath catch, your leg twitch involuntarily at the contact.

Charlie moved with a practiced ease, his hands gripping your hips as he shifted you, lifting you as if you weighed nothing.

Your back pressed against the wall of the confessional, the cold surface a stark contrast to the heat of his body. He adjusted his hold on you, his arms wrapping around your thighs, lifting them until both of your legs were hooked around his waist.

You felt exposed, vulnerable, the position leaving you completely at his mercy, but there was something about the way he looked at you, something in his eyes that made your heart race, made your body ache for more.

His gaze locked onto yours, his eyes filled with a mix of lust and something deeper, something that made your breath hitch, your fingers clinging to his shoulders as he held you up, pressing you against the wall. His forehead rested against yours for a moment, his breath warm against your lips, his voice barely above a whisper. "You drive me mad, Sister... Forgive me, I can't hold back any longer."

He adjusted his hold on you, one arm wrapping tightly around your waist, holding you up against the wall with ease while his other hand moved beneath the ruffled fabric of your habit.

Your legs hitched open wider, instinctively allowing him more access as you felt the warmth of his hand trailing up your inner thigh, his fingers brushing against your skin. The anticipation made your breath catch, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited, your body aching for his touch.

You gasped softly as you felt something blunt press against your clit, moving up and down your slit, the sensation different this time—firmer, hotter. You thought it was his fingers again, but then Charlie let out a soft sigh, a quiet, breathless "fuck" that made your eyes widen, the realization hitting you all at once.

He wasn't using his fingers. It was him, the hard length of him brushing against you, spreading your slickness as he moved, the pressure making your head spin, your body growing even wetter at the sinful, blasphemous intimacy of it.

His movements were slow, deliberate, his eyes locked on yours as if daring you to look away, to deny what was happening. But you couldn't—your gaze was trapped by his, your lips parted as soft whimpers escaped, the sound swallowed by the heavy air between you.

Charlie's breath grew more ragged, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Do you feel that, Sister? Do you see what you do to me?" His voice was thick with lust, his words a mixture of reverence and something far more depraved. He moved his hips, sliding himself against you, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through your body, making you moan softly, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

His lips moved to your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against your skin as he began to push inside you, his voice low and shaky as he muttered a scripture, the holy words twisted by the desire lacing his tone. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..." His voice trailed off into a deep, guttural groan as he sank deeper, the stretch almost too much, a sharp burn that made you gasp, your eyes squeezing shut as your body struggled to adjust to him.

Charlie paused for a moment, his forehead resting against yours once again, his breathing heavy, his eyes searching your face as if looking for any sign of hesitation. But you were too lost in the sensation—the way he filled you, the way your body seemed to mold around him, the burn slowly giving way to something else, something that made your toes curl, your breath hitching as you nodded, a silent plea for him to keep going.

He smiled, a dark, almost tender smile, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, "Perfect." His hips moved again, slowly at first, his movements careful, deliberate, as he began to build a rhythm, each thrust sending a wave of pleasure through you, the feeling overwhelming, all-consuming.

And as you clung to him, your body trembling, you knew there was no turning back, no escaping the hold he had on you.

The two of you got lost in one another, the heat between you burning like a fire, desire crackling like embers, growing hotter with every movement. Charlie's pace quickened, his breaths coming out in harsh pants, his groans muffled as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his body pressing against yours as if he couldn't get close enough.

The rhythm of his thrusts grew more erratic, each one more desperate than the last, the intensity making your head spin, the pleasure building until it was almost too much.

You could hear him, his voice a mix of groans and soft, needy whines, his lips brushing against your neck, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. His hands gripped you tighter, holding you in place as he moved, the friction, the pressure, everything pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Your body tensed, your muscles clenching around him as the band inside you finally snapped, the pleasure washing over you in a blinding wave. You gasped, your head falling back against the wall, your eyes squeezing shut as your entire body trembled, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you clung to him, riding out the high.

Charlie shuddered in your arms, his own body tensing as he felt you tighten around him, his movements growing sloppy, desperate, until he finally stilled, his hips pressing against yours as he let out a low, guttural groan.

You felt the warmth of him spreading inside you, the sensation almost surreal, the realization that you had pushed him to this point, that you had made him lose control, making your heart pound even harder.

He stayed like that for a moment, his forehead resting against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his eyes half-lidded as he looked at you, something almost soft in his gaze.

Slowly, he pulled away, his hands moving to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing against your flushed cheeks as he leaned in, his nose bumping gently against yours, a small, tender gesture that made your heart swell.

Charlie's eyes held yours, his gaze intense, filled with a mix of emotions that you couldn't quite decipher. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, his voice still thick with the remnants of his desire. "Pleasure is deceitful... as it was for the harlot, yet I cannot resist you."

A/N: alright guys, chill with the praise and notes or i won't be able to get rest 😔🫶🏾🫶🏾jkjkjk keep them coming i'm a whore for them 🥴