#You all are beautiful souls I swear-

[cringeyvanillamilk]

⚠️Updates: ⚠️

Hello! I just wanted to update everyone on my current situation since having my emergency commissions opened.

As of right now, things are becoming a lot better thanks to the support me and my family received. We can't say enough of how much we appreciate you all for taking action, whether it's reblogging my post or directly commissioning from me. It has helped us during a time where we thought everything was hopeless.

It touches me especially since I'm aware that I haven't been that active on Tumblr. Since moving to X, I have not been updating this blog as much as I used to, but due to the weight of our emergency I had to reach out in every platform that I was most active in. I was honestly surprised at how quickly I received support from the community. There are so many kind souls in this community, and I will never forget how much you all left a big positive impact on us.

I'll continue to leave my emergency commissions opened for now and close it once everything officially settles.

Until then, thank you all again for your help! 🙏💖

[tonycries]

Madam Gojo - G.S.

Synopsis. Gojo Satoru, the strongest clan leader in all of Japan - and the most dangerous, too. You, rejected by the elders, and totally not his future bride, right? Right?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, clan leader! Gojo, arranged marriage, Satoru is a little (very) INSANE and down bad, the elders are awful, oral (fem receiving), use of “madam”, unprotected, créampie, kníves, overstím, féral Satoru, heinous things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.9k

A/N. I need clan leader Gojo SO bad you guys don’t understand.

They say that the head of the Gojo clan is the one person who could burn down this entire world and get away with it, too. 

The youngest of all the clan leaders - and the most infamous - a man who keeps his friends close, and his enemies even closer. Enough so that you’ve heard whispers of his cruelty at every nook and cranny of those stuffy social functions your family has dragged you to. And it was more than enough to paint a picture of such terrifying power.

Of a sharp blade and an even sharper mouth. Of an angelic figure that left no evidence, nor anyone to tell the tale - only the final, hauntingly beautiful image of cloudy white hair, and electric blue eyes.

Eyes that were currently locked with yours, and didn’t seem like they’d stop any time soon. Dangerous. Magnetic. Twinkling with such odd amusement from across the long tatami room. 

Gojo Satoru, the head of the Gojo clan - your future husband.

“Tch, the Kamo girl’s family had a much better reputation than this one.”

Ah, right. How could you forget?

You shift awkwardly on the mat, managing to rip your eyes over to the line of elders behind Gojo, whispering just loud enough that you’d hear - and, of course, remember once more that no, the marriage proposal hasn’t been approved just yet.

And considering those disapproving glares you’d been so warmly welcomed with, it seemed that they were well and fully intent on keeping it that way.

“I can assure you,” you fight to keep the polite smile plastered on your face, painful and slowly cracking with each passing second being interrogated. “My family is well-respected in the community.” Eyes snapping over to a silent Gojo, skin burning at his intensity. “Very well respected.”

“Come now. We’re just saying.” Another voice speaks up, strained and tinged with a venomous tone you knew didn’t bode well. “Your lineage isn’t exactly illustrious, is it?”

The emphasis on “illustrious” isn’t lost on you, and it’s so fucking dramatic than you think you could almost laugh. Apparently, a few of the elders think so, too - because they’re positively seething at the sight.

Muttering an icy, “Something funny, dear?”

“Nothing at all.” you bite back any insults, sifting around the contents of your untouched dinner - the last thing on your mind right now when it seemed like you were the main scrutiny tonight. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Such attitude!” That offended croak is met with murmured agreements and nods from the end of the room, “The madam of the Gojo household must be demure- I told the young master we should go with the Kamo girl.”

God, why did you agree to this again? Something about strengthening your family ties? You felt sorry for the poor soul who’d end up marrying Gojo, because no matter how much beauty or power he held, it certainly wouldn’t make up for this. 

Scoffing, the words falling from your lips faster than you could register them. “Then why didn’t he?”

And this little question somehow seemed to have struck a nerve - multiple, in fact, as you watch in morbid fascination as the elders visibly bristle. 

“B-because-” one sends a hasty glance at their stone-faced clan leader, flushing at his still-unwavering gaze on you. “You- It doesn’t matter. Someone like you isn’t suited to marry-”

“Right, because this clan is that great.”

You freeze. The elders freeze. It seems like everyone in the world freezes except for Gojo - who only raises his brow. Letting your words hang in the air like a foul stench, studying just how awfully you’re digging your grave deeper in this hellish marriage meeting.

Eventually, the elder closest to Gojo’s right mutters a painfully saccharine sweet, “I knew we shouldn’t have let the riff-raff participate.”

And oh it was like a dam burst open.

“-out of the thousands of girls, for someone like master-”

“The scandal, too- imagine letting the Gojo name fall this far-”

“Isn’t worthy. Can’t let the bloodline be carried by some whor-”

You’re on your feet before you realize it. Whirling at the elders head-on, and if looks could kill then all those old fossils would be six feet under and their graves a dance floor for you already. 

Fists clenched, you spit, “If he’s so wonderful then you all can marry this oh-so-great bastard yourself-”

Oh. You’ve done it now.

You were fucked. You were so very, very fucked. 

You don’t even bother to meet Gojo’s stare, instead wondering whether you’d be able to outrun the strongest clan leader alive. Sure, you could take those old toads but-

“Sit.”

Your heart leaps at the voice, the first time you’re hearing it since entering this room - deep, almost-melodic, and for a second you don’t even recognize who it came from. Not until Gojo’s flashing you a mirthful grin, blue yukata shifting as he moves to sit cross-legged, “Sit.”

Oh, God, you didn’t know of any torture methods one could do while sitting - but you didn’t doubt that Gojo was an expert in all of them. 

And as your knees buckle, sinking ever-so-slowly to sit back down on the floor, Gojo tilts his head in confusion. Brows scrunching together as he gestures downwards.

“On your…lap?” You question, as if the answer wasn’t glaringly obvious. 

The only response you get is a careless nod, Gojo spreading his knees further as if to prove his point. No care or concern as he plows on, “If you’d like, of course.”

It’s a silent staredown - you, and him - and the elders watching jaw-dropped, of course. None of you have ever known the young master to let anyone get this close - let alone give them a decision on, well, anything.

. 

A weighty beat passes. One. Two. 

He wins.

And you find yourself walking unsteadily towards Gojo’s imposing figure, all eyes on you as you plop down unceremoniously in his waiting lap. Warm - and it catches you off guard. Gaze flickering over his broad shoulder to look at the aghast faces behind you. Tension crackling in the air as they wonder the same thing as you at this very moment - just what type of torture method is this? 

“Interesting…I need this one.” You blink up in confusion, heart racing and oh- shit, when did he get so close? But Gojo’s chest only rumbles with laughter. Circling his long fingers around your waist, pulling you flush against his sculpted chest, “As the new madam of the Gojo household.”

What? 

The elders behind let out stifled gasps, as bewildered as you were. And you swear you saw one faint, though, you don’t get to take a close look, because Gojo’s gently grabbing your chin, tilting your head up at his pretty face. 

“Wan’ me to kill them?”

“Kill- why?” you sputter - both from his idea and the heat of his proximity. 

“Why not?” He looks at you through his long lashes, so deceivingly innocent that it makes your head spin. Tone so light, as if he was talking about something trivial like the weather. “An early wedding gift, maybe?” And he sounded like he was joking - you wished he was joking. But you knew better. 

So you swallow thickly, “N-no…thank you.”

At this, Gojo’s eyes twinkle. “Yeah, real interesting.” he coos, voice so uncharacteristically playful. And his lips are so close - too close. Running a thumb along your bottom lip, “Gorgeous, too. Tell me, pretty, what do you think of ruling over this trash?”

And you could feel every eye on you as you mull over the question. Weighty. Scrutinizing - except for Gojo who seemed like he was hanging onto your every word. 

Hell, might as well give ‘em a few heart attacks right?

Words that never come - because your body moves before your mind. And you’ve got one hand gripping his expensive Yukata, the other scrambling for his broad shoulders. Softening the blow as you crash your lips onto his.

Soft - it’s the first thing you register. Followed very shortly by the taste of those cheap lollipops from those local convenience stores you loved - strawberry, you think.

But you don’t get to confirm, because the kiss is over as soon as it happens.

Gojo’s pulling away with a strange light in his eyes, lips flushed a pretty pink, yukata dangling off his shoulder already. You have to train your eyes away from the milky skin, and over to the elders. Yeah, one really had fainted - three, now, actually. 

And only one of them is brave enough to pipe up a rapid, “You- how dare you dirty-”

Thud!

It all happens so fast you’re not sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. In a split second, there’s a long dagger pulled out from his yukata, embedded deep into the tatami mat - not even an inch away from the elder who’d opened his mouth. 

“Out.” 

It’s so abrupt that for a second, you think Gojo’s talking to you, voice soft, and so so eerie. It sends shivers down your spine as you raise your eyes to look at his glare at the frozen crowd behind him.

Eyes wide, aura menacing - a grin gracing his features, absolutely nothing like the one he’d sent you - it was something so dangerous and cold. The temperature in the room dropping about ten degrees as he mutters, “I won’t say it twice.”

And immediately, it’s chaos. Each one stumbling over the other to run out the sliding doors first, none of them daring to look you in the eyes now. 

“O-of course, master.” the leader, seemingly, chokes out. One foot out the room already, “I’ll um- check that the servants are doing their work-”

“No. You all will stand outside.” Gojo murmurs, not even bothering to look at them. Instead, cupping your face closer towards his, “And close the door.”

That door could not have been shut faster, ringing in the tense silence. And suddenly you’re too-aware of the audience outside. Too-aware of being left alone with…your future husband? And the way he was looking down at you with something so dark in his eyes.

“So…” he runs his nose down your neck, breathing in your scent. “If you don’t want me to kill those bastards…what else must I gift you, my wife?” 

“Like what?” You gulp, back arching involuntarily into him. 

Gojo laughs at the reaction, teeth ghosting over your racing pulse. “An estate?” Dancing ever-so-slowly, up your jaw, “All the cars you could want?” He blows gently in your ear, chuckling as you yelp in surprise. “Maybe jewelry?” Kissing the tips of your ears, “You’d look gorgeous in blue. And the Zenin clan has the perfect necklaces I can…convince them to send over.” He pulls away, taking you in entirely, “Or maybe-” Lips now ghosting yours. “-something else?”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. 

You don’t know who leans in first, just that Gojo’s lips were so sweet on yours. So addictive. Palms cradling your face so softly, while his lips were anything but. 

“Open your mouth, pretty.” he pants into your lips. “Kiss your husband properly, now.”

Shit, you barely even realize the way you’re listening to every single word he says. Jaw falling slack to let him lick at the seam of your lips. Such a messy clash of teeth and spit and him - so hot and starved. Like he couldn’t get enough with the way he hastily moves to press wet, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. 

“Satoru-” you gasp, and he nips lightly at your bottom lip once you immediately shut yourself up because shit, you’re getting ahead of yourself. Calling the clan leader Gojo by his first name? Hell, you’ll see the gates of heaven before you see an altar. 

But Gojo himself seems to think the complete opposite. “Don’t get all shy now.” he pries away the hand covering your mouth. “Call me ‘Toru’.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, trying to will yourself to say this little nickname.

Too slow, apparently. Because his hands are suddenly everywhere - on your breasts, your hips, giving your ass a slow squeeze. “T-Toru-” you squeal. 

Gojo’s mouth drops into a soft oh! Immediately surging forward as if to claim your lips again - stopping mere millimeters from your lips with a pained grunt. Like it killed him to stay away. 

“See? Jus’ like that.” he angles your head just right, before spitting, once. Twice. Right into your pretty mouth. “N’ now you’re mine.”

And fuck if Gojo wasn’t going to prove it.

He’s laying you down on the mat, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Mine to wed. Mine to carry my legacy.” Thumb running over your hardened nipples as he urgently unbuckles your bra, throwing it behind god-knows-where. “Mine to-” Biting down, ever-so-lightly on your nipple, “-worship.” Hands dipping lower, and lower - just barely teasing the hem of your drenched panties. “Mine to ruin.”

You don’t know what you’re reeling more from - maybe from those words, which you’re sure he said loud enough for the elders outside to hear.

Maybe from the way he’s sliding a finger underneath your panties, sliding it up and down your puffy folds. Making you arch into him like such a slut as he pools your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips, popping them into his mouth with a low groan. 

“Oh. Fuck. Oh, fuck-” Gojo’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Not wasting a second before ripping off your flimsy panties, tucking them away into the waistband of his yukata. “Sweeter than I imagined.”

“S-so filthy-” you mewl, as he spreads your shaky thighs. Lips wobbling pathetically at how he’s admiring your glistening cunt. “Toru, no one’s ever…”

At this, his eyes are back on yours now. Half-lidded, pupil’s blown - and you don’t think you’ve ever even heard of the leader of the Gojo clan being so out of it, let alone see it first-hand. His voice strained as he breathes out a barely audible, “Shit- really? So then…” He’s moving to lick lewd little circles on your inner thigh, “...your husband’s gotta make this memorable, right?”

Gojo doesn’t give the time to even think about answering - he doesn’t trust that he has the fucking sanity to wait that long. Because you’re so pretty splayed out like this for him. Your moans too sweet. Your cunt too tempting. Too his. 

So, really, you can’t blame him when he’s plunging nose-deep into your quivering pussy, licking one, long stripe right up your swollen folds. And fuck the cute lil’ whines escaping your lips are so addictive that Gojo just can’t help but do it again. And again. And again and-

“O-oh my god, ngh- feels too good-” you card your fingers through his soft locks - something that would usually result in a lost hand or two. But for you - anything, for you. “More, Toru.”

Shit, if Gojo thought he’d lost his sanity before then he definitely wasn’t ready for this. 

“So needy.” he’s chuckling into your glistening folds. One hand throwing your legs over his shoulders, the other thumbing over your needy clit. “So perfect. Can’t believe no one’s ever hah- eaten out this pretty cunt before.”

Immediately, he’s squeezing his hot tongue past your folds. And it’s all you can do to buck your hips up so sluttily when he licks at your sloppy entrance. Your throbbing clit. Anywhere and everywhere Gojo could reach.

“Hngh- yes yes yes, too good.”

“Yeah? Ya like this?” He moves his fingers down from your already-ravaged clit, circling your sopping wet hole. “Ya like making such a mess on m’tongue?”

“W-wha-” The words get caught in your throat as you whirl down at the sight below you - Gojo. Gojo, with strands of white hair sticking to his forehead, eyes so glassy. Gojo, tongue lapping at your sweet juices, looking like he wanted to devour you with his eyes, as much as his mouth. 

At your reaction, he grins, furrowing his brow in mock-concern, “What’s wrong, pretty? Can’t talk?” Bullying his long fingers past that first feeble ring of resistance, massaging your plushy walls. “N’ you were so hah- feisty earlier. Thought my new mmpf- wife would be mouthy?”

You give his hair a warning tug, whispering, “Sh-shut up-” But it comes out more breathless than you intended. 

Gojo notices, of course he does. Because he’s letting out a whiny, “Sh-shut up.” Wrapping his pretty pink lips around your pulsing clit, “As you wish, madam Gojo.”

You hear a dull thud from outside, but you can’t even think about turning your head to look because Gojo’s drinking you in like a man possessed. Pumping his fingers in and out, expertly hitting that one spot with each and every thrust. Looking nothing like an infamous clan-leader and every bit on cloud nine as he rolls his tongue over your clit. Over and over and-

“P-please ah- oh-” you squirm.

“Move your hips like that. Yeah- jus’ like that, pretty- fuck-” The most powerful man in the country letting himself be angled and pulled as you pleased, grunting each time you drag your pussy all over his mouth. Fingers frenzied on your clit - sloppy. Fast. 

But it still wasn’t enough for Gojo - he thinks it’ll probably never be. But that’s fine - the two of you have until the wedding night to perfect it, right?

So he’s looping a big arm around one leg, pulling your snug cunt impossibly closer, reaching over to toy with your pretty clit. And then he’s nose-deep in your sloppy entrance, preparing you for what was to come - fucking you both on his tongue and his fingers. 

Jaw grinding deeper, stretching you out, thrusting in and out in and out in and-

“Fuck fuck fuck- Toru m’so…”

“Close?” he slurs into your cunt, grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Fingers just digging into your hips, sure to leave pretty little marks for him to admire later - and to give a message to those old toads outside. “Cum f’me. Shit- cum f’me, pretty.”

Gojo realizes it before you when you’re finally cumming - because your gummy walls are squeezing around him so tight that it’s almost difficult fuck you through your high the way he wants. 

You’re shaking. Blood roaring in your ears, vision spotty. Crying out a hoarse, “Fuck fuck fuck- oh my god, Toru-” Barely even realizing the way you’re rocking your hips so hard into his hot mouth. 

And Gojo keeps going. 

Even when you’re blinking your vision back, big fat tears pricking your eyes at the sheer overstimulation. Even when white-hot electricity sparks behind your eyes each flick of his tongue. Still toying with your poor clit, tonguefucking you so messily. 

“Toru, s’too- ngh- much- fuck.” You can barely get the words out, jolting. Wondering how the fuck his mouth wasn’t tired, yet - how his fingers weren’t cramping up, tongue still as greedy as ever. “C-can’t-”

“You can. You will.” he’s murmuring into your cunt. Running his mouth now, like he was drunk off your pussy. Words as fast and ragged as his tongue. “C’mon, faster. Harder. Fuck-” you flinch as he spits out little profanities into your messy cunt. “Fuckin use me. Use me like the good lil’ wife you are.”

“Oh- shit.” you whine. Clawing at the mats, Gojo’s hair, his shoulders - just anything to cope with the sheer stimulation as he made out with your pussy like a mad man. “Wait- cum- m’gonna…”

You’re cumming and cumming all over again. So hard, even as you grind your hips deeper into Gojo’s mouth. Riding out your orgasm on his pretty face, so painfully good. 

And only then is he finally pulling away. Absolutely wrecked, eyes miles away already, mouth glistening with your slick. Going all the way down his jawline, and onto the tatami mat in a deafening drip! drip! drip!

“Oh.” he runs his tongue along his wet lips. “Who made you cum like this?” 

A smile slowly splits across his face as you manage out a little, “Y-you, Toru…”

“That’s fuckin’ right. Me.” Hypnotized by the heavenly sight of you all fucked-out and twitching with the aftershock. Marveling down at his hand - glossy, and covered with your slick, “N’ m’gonna love you.”

And, well, a good husband always shares, right?

Because Gojo’s shoving his fingers past your kiss-bitten lips, pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way he knew would have your eyes watering, gagging around him so prettily. Eyes widening at the feeling of something so hard and hot between your legs. 

“C’mon, lil’ madam. Lick them clean f’me, will you?”

You’re gasping, “Mmpf- Toru-” Eyes flitting between a smug Gojo and the hand currently untying his robe. So teasing with the way he’s giving you just a flash of those boxers before oh-

Shit. 

You thought that he’d be big - it was expected, in fact. But this was fucking ridiculous. 

All sculpted curves and dips of his body, faint scars painting his milky skin - stories he’d tell you about later, you think. A fucking masterpiece. All the way down, down, down to where his throbbing cock was leaking all over those tufts of white at his toned pelvis.

Rock-hard, and so so angry. Prominent veins running along the side, flushed a shade of pretty pink that glistened with precum in the dim lighting. So intimidatingly long that it already had you worrying for your poor cervix, and thick enough that it had your thighs pressing mindlessly together. 

Something that Gojo obviously didn’t appreciate.

“Now now.” he tuts, pulling back his fingers to spread apart your thighs with ease. So far apart that it burned. “I need these legs open, pretty. I like the view, y’see.”

And he made it quite obvious, too. Spreading your swollen folds so shamefully apart with his thumb - wet with your split. All the blood rushing to his cock at the way you flinch in embarrassment, at the feeling of being so used. Cute. 

“Shhh, relax.” Gojo hums. Spreading the spit and slick lazily along your cunt with his fat head, purposely letting it smear all over your thighs. “M’gonna make this feel so good for you.”

And let it be known that Gojo Satoru was a merciless man - for everyone. 

Except maybe his cute lil’ wife. 

Because, yes, he’s suddenly splitting you apart on his massive cock. Yes, he’s holding your poor hips still, head dropping into the crook of your neck as he sinks in inch by fucking inch. 

But oh God does he have to hold back from fucking your tight cunt exactly the way he wants. The stretch too sinful, your pussy too heavenly. 

Instead he’s kissing away the single tear rolling down your cheek, muttering, “Too big? Aww, f-fuck, pretty. You needa breathe-.” Rich, coming from him considering that Gojo doesn’t know if he was breathing right now. Too caught up in the way he’s rolling your swollen clit between his fingers, gasping into your open mouth, “Trust me. M’gonna make it f-feel hah- good. So fucking good.”

“F-fuck-” Your head is spinning. And you can only give him such delirious little nods as Gojo starts to push in quick, lazy little grinds of his hips just to squeeze inside your gummy walls. Past that first, tight ring of resistance. 

“S’too big-” you squeal, nails raking down his back. “A-are you all the way in- yet?”

“Nope.” he’s popping the p, so unfairly smug. “Not even halfway in.” Drinking in all your cute lil’ sobs as he snakes a hand up to draw an invisible line across your stomach. “But you b-better be prepared, wifey. Because this-” Pressing down, hard. “-is where I’ll be.”

You didn’t know who wanted that to become a reality more - Gojo or you. 

Especially with the way your tight cunt is sucking him up so good, and shit for all Gojo’s reputation, he feels like he could’ve cum right then and there. 

“Shit- so fucking tight. God- you’re gonna make me lose my mind.” words so strained. So dangerous. He kisses down your neck, biting right above your racing pulse. “How do you want it? Like you’re my hah- wife- or my lil’ slut?”

A trick question, you think - as much as you could when you’re this cockdrunk, at least. 

Locking eyes down at the way your cunt was bulging so obscenely around his cock, clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in in in- Unstopping. Relentless. Mewling a little, “L-like I’m your…wife.” 

“Louder.”

“Like I’m your wife.”

Several things happen at once - that faint muttering suddenly increases tenfold, and maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have noticed the few gasps. Gojo, however, does hear. 

It only takes an irritated growl and a split-second flash of metal for a second dagger to be struck deep into the thin wooden panel of the door - unfortunately for whoever just so happened to be on the other side. 

“That’s right. My wife.” And then he’s bottoming out - heavy balls smacking your ass, leaky tip nudging your poor cervix, letting you mark him up all you want as he rocks his hips faster into yours. “And you- ah- you realize they’re beneath you, right?” he’s stroking where he can feel himself bulging inside you. “That my lil’ wife just has to say the word n’ I’ll ngh- take ‘em all out?” 

You can only sob at the pressure, because his words are so soft but he’s fucking you so mean. Sounding like he was losing his sanity with each time your heavenly walls milked him. 

“I’ll kill ‘em- kill ‘em all-” he’s gritting out. “Hell, I’ll take down the r-rest of those clans ah- too if it pleases you.” Fingers getting so erratic on your clit, angling his hips just right to try and find- 

“Hngh- f-fuck, Toru- there-”

That.

So sloppy with the way he’s alternating between hitting that one spot and just abusing your cervix. Bruising - like he wanted to mark you everywhere n’ show it off, too. Biting down your neck, whispering into the skin, “Anything for you, madam.”

Rocking his hips harder, and he couldn’t give less of a fuck about the lewd little pool of slick and split forming on the mat below. Can’t even think to bring himself to be disgusted. 

“Feels good?” he’s drinking in your adorable sobs, “S’what you imagined?”

You’re torn between running away and fucking your hips up so bruisingly into his, hells digging into the mat as you push and pull away. “Yes. Feels- ah- ngh-” And for all your mouthiness earlier, you can’t even form coherent sentences right now - something that makes Gojo balls squeeze so painfully.

Something that has him wrapping his arms around your legging, dragging you like some ragdoll back to him. Rocking his hips so bruisingly deeper and deeper as he babbles. 

“Gonna make you c-cum. So hard.” He’s fucking you harder into the mat. Faster. Sloppier. “Gonna ngh- make you my beautiful bride.” Bouncing you on his painfully hard cock like he was claiming you from the inside - to leave marks for everyone in the clan to know. His balls on your ass, your nails down his shoulders, lips on your neck leaving little bites. “Gonna make you mine, pretty. And everyone else s’gonna know.”

And Gojo can tell when you’re close because he’s learned that you have a habit of squeezing him to insanity when you are. 

“Close?” At your delirious nod he’s giving you a blinding grin, “How cute. Why don’t you hah- cum f’me like the good lil’ wife you are, hm?”

Cum for him you do - thighs shaking, body jolting. So hard and violent that you’re covering him in all your sweet sweet juices. 

And he can only watch - awe-struck - as your pretty pussy squirts all over his angry cock glistening, and just drenched with your slick now. Beads of it getting all over his burning abs, trickling down every dip and curve as he uses your quivering pussy harder and harder-

“God, you’re so good f’me. Look how much you came.” Giving a final, harsh thrust. “So perfect f’me.”

So fucking smug as he finally cums as well. Letting out a low, muffled moan into your neck as he fills your poor pussy with rope after rope of seed, painting your walls such a sinful white. All the way until he was sure you were bloated with his cum, until he could feel it dribbling down the side. Looking down to confirm and- ah, sure enough, it was such a heavenly sight - thick globs drenching your clothes below. Spreading in a pool as his hips push deeper and deeper. 

Like it hurt to stop. Like it hurt to even think of tearing his eyes away from you. 

But, alas, this old meeting room could only take so much, and Gojo thinks you’ll enjoy his - your - bedroom much better for round two.

Which is how the elders outside found the door kicked open not too long after. Blinking up in shock at the tall figure of the Gojo clan leader at the frame holding you. Tired and limp in a princess carry, all bundled up your yukata and one of his outer robes. 

And they can only avert their eyes, faces burning at the hazy expression on your face, hair so unsubtly messy, bare legs twitching ever-so-slightly from where they were just peeking out from where the fabric had bunched up. Sinful. Desecrated. And evidently his. 

“Clean that room up.” 

Gojo’s stern command snaps them all out of their reverie. 

But before they could all run to do so, he’s plowing on, unapologetic and low. “Oh, and bow down-” chuckling lightly as they scramble to their knees before him - and your barely-lucid figure. “-to the new madam of the Gojo household.

A/N. On my period I’m gonna cry. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[classicintp]

Goddammit I miss that cat.

[gibbearish]

hey cool that literally isnt what that said in the slightest

[yawnderu]

Simon’s gut clenched, the pure heartbreak in your eyes lashing at his heart like whips. He choked back tears, swallowing the thick lump in his throat to keep himself from falling at your feet and begging to be forgiven. Deep inside, he knows it’s selfish to keep you with him. 

“‘M sorry.” His first confession is nearly muted by the traumatized, war-hardened soldier deep within his soul. 

“I’m so sorry. I asked for the leave, but bloody Makarov just…” He pauses, realizing that no matter how many excuses he comes up with, his mistake will never be forgiven. It doesn’t deserve any forgiveness, and that’s something he’s fully aware of, gnawing at his conscience from within. 

“I love you. I love both of you. I promise— no, I swear, that I won’t ever leave.” His gaze drifts down to the newborn baby in your arms. A tiny sweet girl, her big brown eyes looking at him with so much curiosity and love. For a second, it takes every ounce of strength for him not to reach out and hold her. 

Simon clenches his fists tightly, as if holding back the tide of emotions surging within him. The last thing he wanted was to be like his father— an absent bloody cunt, yet it seems like the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree no matter how much he tries.

The sight of the tears rolling down your cheeks feels like daggers straight to his soul, and yet a part of him thinks he’s not allowed to feel pain. Not when he let you be alone and scared in the delivery room, surrounded by nurses sporting expressions of pure pity for you. A first-time mother who kept insisting her husband was going to show up this one time. 

“I was so scared, Simon.” The first words you’ve told him the entire night hurt more than any bullet he’s ever taken. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry.” He swallows the thick lump in his throat, hesitantly reaching out to brush the tears from your cheeks, his hands shaky. His dark eyes fix on your face, soaking you in, wanting to remember even the smallest detail. As exhausted as you are, you’re still the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“Let me make it right. I promise I’ll do everything to make up for it.” A grim part of his soul knows that this is just one of the many cracks in your marriage that will never be repaired. Still, the sincerity in his voice echoes in the room as he leans forward, pressing your foreheads together. 

“I can’t imagine how you felt, baby. How scared you must’ve been…” He whispers, his chest constricting. His gaze drifts down to your beautiful girl, tears brimming his eyes the moment her tiny hand reaches out to hold one of the straps from his gear. 

“I’m here now. I’ll never leave, I promise.” If finally hanging it up is what it takes to amend your marriage, he’ll do it. A small smile pulls at the corners of his lips, picturing being able to see his little girl grow up with the chances he never had, and despite knowing that he deserves the rawness of the moment, Simon makes it a life goal to be with you at all times. To fix everything he once broke.

From the ex-husband Simon series.

[regulusrules]

We're TRENDINGG for no REASONN just like god DECREEDD, so here are 5 fics that would steal your breath away:

1. My breaths are run by your compass by regulusrules. [T] [71K] [post-camlann fix-it] [golden age but merlin stabs arthur in his heart first].

Not because it's my fic and it's genuinely so insane you won't believe it, but honestly, it's the best idea I've ever come up with, even better than the widely beloved my heart is readily yours. For me, it's the perfect continuation of their story, and the most unhinged plot twist you could find in a fic.

2. Half of my soul by @clockwrkpendrxgon. [G] [2K] [MCD] [golden age growing old together]

This fic is half of my soul, or what the poets say. It's so much better as an ending than what they've given us. At least this is filled with such golden love it makes you ache. At least this makes sense.

3. from hearth and ashes, we’re reborn by @remuscariad. [G] [5K] [canon era magic reveal].

This fic is so good you'll be on your knees from it. The prose, the characterization, the tropes used... it will linger in your mind and fester there from how beautiful it all is. And the art in it by @onepeppercorn... stunning.

4. Our broken pieces by @aramblingjay. [T] [10K] [canon era established relationship]

You can pry this fic from my cold dead hands. I will never stop recommending it until it gets the fame it deserves. One of the most beautiful fics ever written about them, and genuinely encompasses their characters so perfectly.

5. gentle as an early spring breeze by @prattery. [G] [2.5K] [canon divergence golden age]

They are alive and in love and we're all living in this fic because it's what they righteously deserved. The way their life was written here and the love between them... I swear this author could write anything and I'd kudos it before even reading it.

[For more recs]

[buckyalpine]

2025, lets GO. 18+ Minors dni. A teaser of my thots. Don’t know what's wrong with me and tbh I don’t think we’ll ever find out. But I can’t stop thinking about this man’s cock. Such a pretty, pretty, super soldier cock. In the most descriptive way imaginable. Imagine a touched starved menace Bucky. The way he’d want to be touched, how fucking good it feels when your lips wander to his most sensitive areas. Getting him so horny, he’s telling you every damn thing his cock is feeling without holding back because he’s so desperate. 

“Suck the tip angel, please” The last word nearly melts into a sob because you’ve been teasing him for far too long and you know exactly where he wants you. 

“Yeah? Why should I baby?” You coo, rubbing the sides of his thighs, “What’s so special about that, m’already sucking you here” Your lips drag up his shaft, letting your tongue lave up and down, ignoring the little mess he’s making with precum dripping from his slit. 

It’s torture.

Beautiful, delicious torture. 

“C’mon, please, don’t make me beg doll, it’s swollen n’sensitive there, just suck it a little, m’so hard” You love the way his thighs squirm on the bed, spreading wider for you because he needs to much more. 

“Poor baby, you like it when I suck your cock?

“Y-yeah baby, fuck yes” His head is thrown back on the pillow while he chest heaves when you move down to take one of his balls in your mouth, his soft sack throbbing each time you toy with him. They’re so full, he has no idea what to do with himself. 

He’s fucking aching because there you are, worshipping him in places he’d doesn’t expose to just anyone. His length stands tall and proud, a sheen of sweat covering his body because each time a drop of precum slips out, you tap your index finger against his slit to collect it, just to lick it with your fingers. 

“Angel, just-please-mph-” He cut himself off when you brush over his frenulum with your tongue, he didn’t even know he was capable of making such a sound when he whines for more. He was being such a needy thing, you give into his pleading, taking that plush tip between your lips, the cry he lets out makes you drip. “Is it right there, baby? That’s where you wanted me to suck you?”

“Right-fuck, right there, don’t-don’t stop, don’t fuckin’ stop, please angel, please-shit-” The rest of his voice dies into a series of whimpers when you begin to nurse on him and he swears his soul leaves his body. He looks down to find your eyes looking up at him, your mouth so full, the veins along his length pulsating. “I can feel it fuckin’ swelling in your mouth, it’s so hard, fuck it’s never been this hard” 

You start to take more of him in, letting his tip hit your throat, suppressing a gag and that really sets him off, he’d never been this mouthy before, to be fair he’d also never gotten head like this before, also he considered himself a gentleman but God you made it so difficult with the way you sucked his soul-

“Just like that baby, sucking my cock so good, so fucking good, my balls are so full of cum for you, m’so full n’hard-”

“Don’t stop-don’t-st-stop, mph, yeah, yeah-” his eyes struggle to stay open, those pretty nipples hard, his muscles tensed when you move faster, “I can’t-need to be inside you-fuck”

Before you can do anything, he pulls you off his cock and manhandles you onto your back, spreading your legs apart and tossing them over his shoulders. He can smell how fucking soaked you are, slamming his cock in all the way with a brutal pace.

“FUCK J-JAMES” Your nails dig into his skin to hold on for dear life with the way he’s selfishly taking, his voice muffled with the way his lips have found their way to your neck, needly sucking between rambling about how good you feel-

“Say my name again, fuck-again doll, need it, wanna hear my name on your lips with my cock in you, s’all for you, fuckin’ hard n’aching for you baby, say it-

“JAMES-Oh god- I”

“Fuck, m’already making a mess” His hips work faster already feeling his orgam ready to blow, “You make my cock so fuckin’ leaky, can feel it squirting out of you-y/n, I can’t-gonna cum, m’gonna cum so fuckin’ much-

His hands come to lace with yours, his full body weight dropping while he start to grind into your cunt, burying himself as far as he could go. He doesn’t pull away from your neck hiding away, his breath panting against your skin.

“M-cu-fuck, m’cumming-shit” He makes the most obscene moan you’ve ever heard, his body stilling with his cock bursting with streams of his seed. You can feel him twitch inside you, the sensation alone enough to make you squeeze around him, clinging onto him as you cum with him, “Oh God baby I can feel you -milking my dick,-gonna-oh fuck m’cumming again!!” His hand slams the mattress, giving you a few harsh sloppy thrusts, slamming into you fully unload every bit of him into your pussy.

Now, don’t get me started on how this man spends the night pumping you full, only pulling out (reluctantly) when he’s soft. He’s used to having clothes on by now so he’s a little self conscious when your eyes drift down to his no longer hard length covered in a mix of you and him. His cheeks warm at the way you look at him, he’d about to cover until you lick him clean, he’s so fucking sensitive but it feels too good, he’s still leaking, his very pink, silky an soft cockhead continuously making a wet mess and if he hadn’t died before, he definitely did now-

So this was in the drafts for years months. I have so many more that I have to finish but one at a time. Also, I really need to post a life upate. 

[sharlsworld]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ walk him like a dog - 𝐋𝐍𝟒 𖤓

（ 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 ）𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

（ 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒 ）𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗇 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝖽𝗈𝗀

🝮

yn posted a story

replies

landonorris cmon love 💔

charles_leclerc replied to your story

Just let him have this one

lilymhe replied to your story

the hand placement??? 👁️👁️

↳ yn you don’t wanna know how many times i tried to move it

hearts4lando replied to your story

this is so cute

alexandrasaintmleux replied to your story

I want what you and lando have

↳ yn don’t even 😭

georgerussell63 replied to your story

Lando texted and said “bro she hasn’t moved my hand in a 3 minutes you think that means something??” 🤦‍♀️

carlossainz55 replied to your story

JUST DATE ALREADY PLEASE

alex_albon replied to your story

i know puppy love still exists because lando exists

🝮

landonorris posted a story

replies

maxfewtrell replied to your story

you’re like her little puppy dog

↳ landonorris idc as long as im hers

yn replied to your story

stop this madness

↳ landonorris you know you like it baby

francisca.cgomes replied to your story

absolutely down bad

↳ landonorris always for her

charles_leclerc replied to your story

No photo credit?

↳ landonorris no you kept call me her little bitch the whole time…

↳ charles_leclerc Did I lie?

🝮

f1wags

liked by landonorris and 383,072 others

f1wags Lando Norris and Yn were see getting cozy on the beach earlier today, what do we think about this? 👀

estiebestie NOT LANDO LIKING THIS 💀💀

yn NO NO NO LET ME TELL ME SOMETHING

⤷ landonorris do tell

⤷ yn ITS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE I SWEAR

hoeforsainzzz UHM HIS HAND HELLO?

lovely.leclerc friends definitely don’t get that touchy with each other 🫣

⤷ landowantrizz and they definitely don’t look at each other that 🤨

landolovesyn this is the norm for them 😭

beloved.hamilton Stop that’s so cute 🥹

sharls_lerklerk shes the nonchalant, wears the pants in the relationship, in between black swan & white swan, knows she can get whatever she wants out of him gf and he’s the chalant, will do whatever she says, puppy dog, putty in her hand with one look, can never say no, baby girl bf

⤷ yn no 👎🏽🚫🙅🚮

🝮

daniel3.jpg

liked by maxverstappen1 and 925,082 others

daniel3.jpg to feed your soul

landonorris my girl

⤷ yn no stop

yn delete this now

⤷ landonorris cmon baby you know you want me as bad as i want you

⤷ hearts4lando HELLO? lando norris is the standard

lilymhe what’s that thing doing with me kika and alex’s girl??

⤷ francisca.cgomes little lando thinks he can bag our girl 🤣🤣

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux he just doesn’t know when to quit

⤷ yn i know where home is 😘

⤷ charles_leclerc hello??

⤷ alex_albon i can’t do this anymore.

⤷ pierregasly tell me about it

charlesismyman69 HAND PLACEMENT IS EVERYTHINGGGG 🫦

estiebestie 1 AND 3???? LANDO NORRIS YOU SLUT

landolovesyn they act like a couple but yn is playing SO HARD to get 😭

⤷ daniel3.jpg he’s playing the long game

ethereal.yn i’m patiently waiting for lando to just hard launch one of these days (im going insane i can’t wait any longer)

⤷ landonorris same

🝮

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55 and 5,924,173 others

landonorris my girl, my girl, my girl ♥️ this one goes out to all you bitches that doubted me, that said i could never get someone as beautiful as yn, that told me to move on, that said i could never get her, to everyone who ever called me lando norizz i hope you bitches are weeping right now.

yn damn

⤷ landonorris you know your blushing right now don’t even

♥︎ by yn

danielricciardo Bro got the girl

⤷ oscarpiastri After 4 years

⤷ carlossainz 4 years of yappin about her

hearts4lando ik lando already bought that ring 😭

⤷ lando.norizz he’s probably had it for a few years now let’s be honest

estiebestie LANDO NORRIS YOU DOWNBAD SLUT

pierregasly getting freaky on the main?

⤷ landonorris always

landolovesyn MY PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED 🙏🏽🙏🏽

sharls_leclercussy just fell to my knees in the middle of walmart

⤷ landonorris same

littlelandonorris lando norris the man that you are

landowantsrizz the second picture HELLOOO? 😭

⤷ lilac.leclerc the second picture? WHAT ABOUT THE FIRST PICTURE???

sharls_lerklerk i’ve been here since they first met at silverstone 😭

🝮

yn

liked by zendaya and 18,024,795 others

yn my little bitch, forever & always babygirl ♥️

landonorris it’s like your life goal is to make me look like a fan

⤷ yn are you not my little bitch?

⤷ landonorris i’m whatever you want me to be baby

⤷ yn that’s what i thought

lilymhe 🐕🐕🐕

francisca.cgomes can’t believe this man child took my woman

⤷ landonorris I WON

alexandrasaimtmleux So cute…I guess

landonorris damn girl why your feet so sexy 🫦😘🥜🤤🍆🍑

carlossainz55 I thought you two getting together would mean he would finally shut up about you…I thought wrong.

⤷ oscarpiastri You think you have it bad?

ynissocutiepatootie y/n heard “walk em like a dog” once and took it to another level

hoeforsainzzz lando norris is the definition of dedication

landocanrockmyworld i love how she makes him look so tall 😭

ynownsme y/n y/l/n you will always be famous 😭

[anantaru]

⚝ DAY 4 — BODY WORSHIP

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — xiao, heizou

— warnings. — fem! reader, oral (fem! receiving), they're obsessed with you, praising and pussy drunk men

⚝ — XIAO

xiao was never one for indulgence—yet, there he was, on top of you with his lips ghosting over your skin, murmuring ancient mantras underneath his breath.

you gasp, each kiss he pressed upon you was meant to "cleanse", that's what he told you, to purge the lingering traces of darkness that dared to cling to your beautiful being— although as his mouth traveled from your shoulder to the curve of your collarbone, his actions became more than just protective— they became slightly possessive.

xiao could feel your pulse quicken beneath his lips, especially when he lapped all the way down to your warmth but stopped right above your clit and fuck, it only spurred him on to do the next following, as much as sinful notion.

his hands, usually so disciplined, traced the delicate lines of your body with a searing touch as they settle on your thighs so he could leisurely place his head between your thighs.

every inch of you called to him, like a magnet for his affection, and he couldn’t stop, fuck he couldn't— just couldn't stop and seeing your cunt all sopping and wet of your own liquids made it hard to process all of this.

"i need to rid you of this," he whispered and you could swear you saw a slight smirk, in fact, it sounded like an excuse, his lips brushing over your folds as if he was addicted to the feeling, "you deserve to be free from harm."

before you could even moan at the way his words are impacting you, your arousal drips at his tongue and cheeks and leaves a mess for him to clean up. his mouth rotates between kissing your clit before his lips eagerly curve around the sensitive pearl as he sucks and nudges his tongue along the twitching spot.

you were the embodiment of purity in xiao's eyes and he couldn’t help but worship you for it.

it’s divine— your taste, and he licks at you, laps and slurps every droplet of your messy slick until your fingers relentlessly grabbed at his roots as your folds quiver, your hole clenching and fluttering around air.

xiao couldn’t stop. he didn’t want to. you were his sanctuary, and every caress, every kiss, every lick and taste only anchored him further to you.

⚝ — HEIZOU

heizou had always been a playful soul and you loved that about him— next to that, you were his favorite puzzle to solve.

leisurely, his fingers danced over your skin with the kind of dexterity that only a detective could have, exploring every inch with the curiosity of someone eager to learn and most importantly, please.

but it wasn’t an investigation driving him tonight— it was sheer delight.

"mm, what’s this?" he teases and furrows his brows, his lips quirking into a smile as he pressed his leaky tip against your slit, watching you squirm effortlessly under his sensual touch.

for some reason— which was actually pretty obvious as though why he was so good at it, heizou had an unparalleled knack for finding every sensitive spot, every place that made you gasp or sigh, most definitely cry out his name.

the detective adored seeing the way you reacted to him, to his cock nestling in your pussy and pulsing through your walls, wrecking havoc when he moves it in and out, slow at first, then rocks it harder and messier until you couldn’t help but arch your body and grind your hips back into him.

you were his to explore, and oh, he took his time, don't you worry about that one— heizou had no need to rush, he could tease you for hours because you see, you were his canvas, and he would paint you with every stroke of his movements and cum.

"you’re far too fun to resist," he smirks, lips ghosting along your collarbones before he buries his face into your neck, groaning like a mad man when he slowly pulls himself into your warmth so your walls could stroke him, welcome and squeeze at his shaft, twist around him until your liquids collide.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[notsunnyowo]

In love with you - Gojo Satoru

Word Count: 313

Pairing: Lovestruck! Gojo Satoru x Female! Reader

Content: Fluff, Female Reader (AFAB), Gojo being absolutely smitten by reader

Lovestruck! Gojo who thinks of you a 24/7. You're always on his mind no matter what he's going. Going to the store? He's immediately asking himself if you'd like the sweets he's planning on buying. Out on a dangerous mission, fighting off curses? - He's wondering what you're doing right now. Were you also perhaps thinking about him? He certainly hopes so.

Lovestruck! Gojo who can't wait to return home to you. He doesn't know how he'd managed to survive for so long without having someone to look forward to when coming back home from an exhausting mission. But there you always were. Patiently waiting for him to come back, and then greeting him with gentle and loving kisses.

Lovestruck! Gojo who loves to cuddle up into your petite figure whenever the two of you are sprayed out on the couch, watching one of your favorite shows. He doesn't even pay attention to the show you seem to be so invested in, much rather preferring to look at your pretty face. He swears no sight is as beautiful as it.

Lovestruck! Gojo who lives for the sleepy, and oh-so-gentle morning kisses the two of you share each and every day once the two of you wake up from your slumber. The feeling of your soft lips pressed against his own has his heart fluttering like a smitten teenager.

Lovestruck! Gojo who loves everything about you. From your adorable smile, to the way his name rolls off your tongue with practiced ease. He just has so much love inside him and wants nothing more that to give it all to you. His love is all yours after all, and so is he. Both body and soul.

Lovestruck! Gojo who knows that he's made the right decision when he kneels down in front of you on one knee and asks for your hand in marriage.

Author Note:

Just finished reading way too much angst and needed some fluff to get my spirits back up, and so we're here- YvY

Anyways- I hope you enjoyed reading this one-shot as much as I enjoyed writing it!

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

Hii! I love love love all of your finnick fics! Could I please request a fic where reader is also a victor from an earlier game and she is in an established relationship with Finnick. They both get reaped (not the same district) for the 75th games and reader gets critically hurt in the part where the cornucopia spins. Like she falls into the water after maybe being injured and she can’t swim, so Finnick has to risk everything to save her life.

I’m really looking for like a hurt/comfort with a seriously injured reader and Finnick going through hell to save her because he cannot imagine a life without her in it.

Thank you so much if you’re willing to write this or something like it, feel free of course to change anything to your liking!

two souls, one heart | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick refuses to lose the love of his life. your inability to swim complicates things, especially when the cornucopia begins spinning.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: pre-established relationship, heavy angst, drowning, death, bone fracture

notes: thank you so much!!! i really enjoyed writing this, shed a few tears but still enjoyed it lmao. listen to 'beginning of the end movement v' by the newton brothers on repeat for the full experience <3

A quiet nursery rhyme was being sung by the water's edge.

The calm waves around the Cornucopia lapped at the rocks, the blistering sun causing the surface to sparkle. Wiress' voice interrupted Peeta as he mapped out the arena's clock-like wedges in the dirt. Everyone was focused on the map; you should have been too.

Dark blue ripples had your eyes captivated. So tranquil. So hauntingly beautiful. Loving the sea was in your blood, as your District Four was your home. You would think coming from a fishing district would mean your swimming abilities were mastered. In reality, they were practically non-existent. No matter how many times Finnick had attempted to give you lessons, they never stuck.

Neither of you seemed to care though, always too enraptured by simply being in each other's company—feeling Finnick's hands support your body as you floated on the surface...

"Don't you let go of me, Finnick Odair, or I swear to god I'll drown you."

"Will that be before or after you drown first?" he chuckled, though ultimately tightening his grip on your body in an attempt to reassure you.

....hysterically laughing when he got wiped out by a sudden wave...

"No way! I can't—" You broke into a fit of laughter— "I can't believe that just happened!"

"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" Finnick asked, trudging through the water towards you, his hair drenched and swept across his forehead.

"Yes!"

You doubled over, knees buckling as you struggled to contain your laughter. Despite trying to put up a serious front, Finnick too let a few chuckles slip at the hysterical sight of you.

"Oh really?"

Just like that, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into the cold water, earning him a squeal just before you crashed together below the surface.

...and washing up on the sandy shore in each other's arms, salty lips capturing one another.

"I'm covered in sand," you murmured against Finnick's lips.

He gave you another kiss before pulling away. "It's okay," he said, pecking your lips again. "I'll help you wash off in the shower when we get back." And then sent you a stomach-flipping grin.

Even though you wouldn't trade those memories for the world, if you had known your life would soon depend on the ability to swim, you would have paid much more attention to the lessons.

Finnick stood closely beside you, his trident digging into the dirt as he gripped it tightly in case of an attack. He had noticed your drifted attention, observing the way your eyes stared at the rippling water, like death was lurking just beneath the surface waiting to drag you down to the murky depths.

He could protect you from most things in the arena, but fear was something entirely different. A trident couldn't defeat the darkness in your mind.

A hand slid onto your lower back, rubbing gentle strokes to gain your attention. Your gaze tore from the blinding blue and settled onto Finnick's face beside you, watching his mouth curve into a light smile. You knew the silent words he was trying to convey: 'You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you.'

For a fleeting moment, the anxiety had disappeared. How could anything ever go wrong with Finnick by your side? The corners of your mouth quirked, preparing to send him a smile in response. But it never came. Something new had caught your attention. The woman by the water was no longer singing.

Wiress had been murdered.

The second Katniss let her arrow fly into Gloss' chest, everything around you seemed to explode into action. Anything that could go wrong would go wrong—Murphy's Law. And it did.

The Careers had initiated an attack.

Charging forward from the waterside was Cashmere, determined to avenge her brother's death. Instinct quickly kicked in and the spear in your hand was sent barrelling through the air and into her chest. As you watched her body slump to the ground, an enraged yell came from the side.

Finnick was fighting Brutus.

With your only weapon lodged within Cashmere's chest, aiding Finnick was impossible. Enobaria revealed herself beside Brutus, displaying her vicious fangs and throwing a dagger that sliced a small cut across Finnick's shoulder. Though the wound was minor, your heart lurched as he cried out in pain.

Before a single thought in your brain could form, your legs were moving. Not towards Finnick, but after Enobaria. Remember who the real enemy is—screw that. Finnick could have died. Your Finnick. He called out your name, his voice hoarse and frayed, but you continued on, hatred fuelling each step. It seemed Katniss and Johanna had the same idea, following behind you with their weapons bared.

Salt water sprayed onto your face, but you paid it no attention. Nor did you notice as the jungle surrounding the island began to blur into one overwhelming hue of green. Only when your body was thrown to the harsh rocky terrain did you realise what was happening.

The Cornucopia had started to spin.

Nothing could compare to the terror you felt as gravity's merciless force dragged your body toward the violent waves surging against the rocks. Just as your lower legs breached the edge, a hand grabbed onto your own. Katniss. She too was hanging onto Johanna whose only lifeline was an axe buried in the rocks.

A moment—that was all you were given to scan your surroundings. Supplies and sharp-edged weapons were flying everywhere. White water was spraying into the air. Finnick, who was thirty feet away, was gripping onto a rock ledge whilst keeping Beetee from sliding into the furious waves. His head turned to the side and even from a great distance, your eyes met.

It was at that moment you knew, you just knew the odds weren't going to be in your favour. God forbid you lived a simple happy life with the man you loved, days spent together on a calm beach. God forbid the Gamemakers gave you one last chance to be in his arms. God forbid you survived.

And with that sudden realisation, the universe, sick as it was, decided it was time.

Your hand began slipping from Katniss's; an unseen tear fell from your eye, and you smiled. A smile of goodbye sent to the love of your life. His face contorted into one of agony, lips moving but you couldn't hear his voice over the roaring waves. Still, you knew exactly what he was shouting.

"NO! NO!"

There was nothing he could do but watch your body disappear into the waves, repeating over and over "no, no, no," and praying his cruel eyes had deceived him. They hadn't.

Dark blue was in every direction you looked. The undertow tossed and rolled your body like a ragdoll in a washing machine and despite your attempts to swim, the surface only seemed to be slipping further and further out of your reach. Darkness engulfed you, so thick that you couldn't tell which way was up or down. That was when the panic set in.

Your arms and legs thrashed frantically, struggling against the water's force, desperate to reach safety or an air pocket. Cold water flooded your throat as you gasped uncontrollably. You screamed as every attempt at breathing felt like fire burning in your lungs. Finnick. Where was he? Where were you? What was happening? Why wouldn't it stop?

Thoughts submerged your mind in terror, and you were powerless to stop them. All you could do was feel. Pain. Fire. Burning

At some point, the Cornucopia had ceased its spinning and your body came to a rest in the water. An eerie calm suddenly washed over you; a sense of clarity stilled your wild movements. This was the end. There was no future. No hope. The world above wasn't yours to call home anymore. You now belonged to the sea.

Of course, your water-logged mind had forgotten that home was where the heart was, and your heart was still beating... above the surface, in the aching chest of another.

Tendrils of hair floated around your face like fronds of seaweed. Rays of sunlight penetrated the surface, turning the surroundings a vibrant sparkly blue. As you sank further down, the water, now a comfortable lukewarm, cradled you in its embrace. It felt safe, like being in Finnick's arms again. Like home.

You gazed at the sun's rays; they looked beautiful. You felt beautiful. But time was running out and the bright light soon began shrouding your entire vision, though not before you witnessed a dark figure dive beneath the waves.

**********

Finnick loved the ocean. He spent most days in District Four down by the beach, swimming, spearfishing, and watching the sun rise and set on the blue horizon. If he believed in reincarnation, he would have imagined himself to be a lionfish or dolphin in his past life, living in an underwater world, free from tyranny and oppression. He loved the ocean.

But that love was incomparable to what he felt for you. So, when he dove into the rocky waters to save you and felt the currents fighting against him, he determined there was nothing he hated more than the ocean. Not as he watched its strong grip drag your motionless body further down below him.

Your back had just touched the soft seabed when he swam far enough down to envelope you in his embrace. He should have swum you back to the surface immediately, but in his distressed state, he couldn't help but foolishly stare at your lifeless appearance. Your skin was blue. It's just the water's colour, he told himself. Your eyes were closed. She's just asleep. Your neck didn't pulse under his touch. She's... She's...

He had no justification for that. Feet planted firmly on the sandy floor, he propelled both himself and you back up to the surface. As Finnick paddled back to the Cornucopia, the others reached down and helped lift your limp body onto the rocks.

"Is she...?"

"Peeta," Katniss quietly reprimanded him.

Finnick paid them no attention. He said nothing but trauma screamed in his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his hands were trembling as he frantically checked your pulse again—in both your wrists and your neck; he even pressed his ear to your chest. All he heard was the waves lapping against the rocks.

"No," he whispered again.

It seemed to be all he could say anymore. No. No, this couldn't be happening. You were just standing beside him a few minutes ago; your eyes were just looking into his. However much he tried to deny reality, it didn't seem to make it any less true. You were gone.

He choked out a rough determined breath, interlocked his hands over your chest, and began pressing repeatedly over your heart. Wet strands of tangled hair were strewn across the rocks like dead seaweed. The usual soft pink accompanying your cheeks was nowhere to be seen, devoid of any life.

"Come on, sweetheart," he muttered before pulling down your chin to blow air into your lungs. The kiss of life. And when nothing happened as he pulled away, he restarted the chest compressions. "Oh, don't do this to me," he begged, voice breaking. "Don't do this. Breathe."

Any moment now. Any moment, your eyes would flutter open, the colour would return to your glowing skin, and your heart would beat with life beneath his hands. Your lips would whisper his name and he would pull you into his arms, where he would keep you safe until the end of time.

"Breathe."

Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Nothing. He did it again. Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Silence. Maybe he should've just ripped his heart out and replaced yours with his own. Death would come for him within seconds but hearing something beating inside your chest would've made the sacrifice worth it.

Life would flash before his eyes and your beaming smile would be the last thing he'd get to see. His last thought would be of relief that you were alive.

Johanna rested a tentative hand on Finnick's shoulder. "Finnick, she's—"

"No, she's not!" he exclaimed, continuing his movements. "She's fine. Aren't you, baby? You're fine." He cupped your jaw, his thumb stroking your soft skin before he pressed his lips to yours and blew twice. "You're fine."

The golden bangle around his wrist glimmered in the sunshine as he pressed on your ribcage. All he had to do was keep you alive until Plutarch rescued everyone. One simple task and he failed.

"Finnick, we have to go," someone said. Who? He didn't know nor care.

Leave me, he wanted to say. Leave me here to die. Let the Careers mutilate my body, take my life, my last breath, but let it be by her side.

Something cracked beneath his palms and he knew one of your ribs had fractured. His arms stilled, half-expecting you to cry out in pain but then he remembered. And with that sickening crack came a devastating realisation—you really were gone.

A sob erupted from his throat and his head fell to your chest, drenching your already-soaked wetsuit with hot tears. Everything else seemed to disappear. The arena, the Careers who could attack again at any moment, the spectators who were avidly watching. Everything.

It was just him and you. He didn't care that his screams and deafening sobs could bring unwanted attention or jeopardise the group's safety. Any tribute with half a mind would know crossing him in such a state would be a fatal flaw. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Nothing mattered. Life no longer had meaning.

Finnick pulled your lifeless body onto his lap and cradled you protectively in his arms, lightly rocking back and forth. His forehead rested against your own, cold and damp. You always were the cold one, needing his touch to light a fire beneath your skin. He loved having you rely on him for warmth, but not like this.

"Come back to me, baby, please," he begged almost inaudibly. Tears were running down his cheeks as he brushed pieces of hair away from your face. His lips were on yours once more, heartbroken and painfully delicate; not to fill your lungs with air, but to fill your heart with his love in the hopes it would be enough to bring it back to life. "Don't leave me."

Pleas, prayers, begs, and wishes flew past his lips, over and over. And then they stopped and Finnick simply stared. Silence fell across the entire arena. The birds didn't chirp, the other tributes remained quiet, and the trees stood still. Even the water had calmed, resembling a perfectly flat mirror.

Finnick only had three words left on his tongue. Three final words to give you, wherever it was that you were. He slowly leaned down, squeezed his stinging eyes shut, and pressed a long farewell kiss to your forehead. His eyes remained closed as he parted from your skin, unable to take another look as he whispered his final goodbye.

"I love you."

And then, for the first time since he had rescued you from the blue depths, he felt his heart beating again. Just like yours was.

**********

There was a voice, distant yet reassuring—a lifeline to consciousness. Black was all there was. Coldness was all that was felt. It was desolate. But that voice... that voice was so anguished yet so familiar and encouraging that it lit a fire inside your chest, warming you from the inside out.

In the distance of the dark void was a figure, their body made entirely out of a pulsating golden light. Each word the voice spoke enhanced the light's brightness. "Come... me, please..." Brighter. "Don't leave..." And brighter.

The light was warm and comforting, just like the voice attached to it. Whoever's voice it was that brought the light resonated deep in your mind, tugging at the strings within your heart.

Your heart.

The thumping in your chest was weak, almost non-existent, but it was still there. Though it seemed time was running out. Pitch-black darkness outweighed the golden light ten-to-one; you could feel its cold breath creeping onto your back. So, you started running towards the figure. Sprinting. Until all that surrounded you was golden.

"I love you."

Water. At first, it came trickling out in two fluid streams from the sides of your mouth. Then suddenly, it was spraying into the air as choked coughs forced the liquid from your burning lungs. Light flooded your vision—not golden and inviting, but vivid and overwhelming.

There was something warm beneath your legs, against your arm, rubbing at your back, holding you in an upright position. While you heaved, dry-retched, and gasped, that soothing warmth remained.

As your airways began to clear and the expulsion of water ceased, your half-lidded eyes rolled around the area. Still dazed and disoriented, you struggled to make out what surrounded you. There was immense rippling blue, vibrant hues of green in the distance, dark rough grey beneath you, and elongated blobs of colour that stood a few feet away.

"Just–just keep breathing, sweetheart." That voice. The one belonging to the figure of light that brought you back. It was madly repeating the same words over and over. "You're okay", "Deep breaths", and "You're alive."

Shaky fingers brushed the stray wet strands of hair from your face. So warm. With the little energy you had, your head turned to seek out the golden light again. And you found it.

The blinding sun shining down reflected off his bronze hair, turning it a divine golden hue. His brows were raised and scrunched together as though he couldn't possibly believe what he was seeing. Deep lines were etched into his tear-streaked skin, evidence of his previous turmoil. Those sea-green eyes stared at you, afraid that if he so much as blinked, you would fall lifeless in his arms once more.

"You're here," he whispered.

Finnick. YourFinnick. Your light.

When your eyes met, a splitting grin lit up his face, made up of an inconceivable amount of raw emotion. You weren't sure what to do—smile, laugh, cry, kiss him? Your mind was scrambled, overwhelmed with love for the beautiful golden-haired man in front of you.

Without warning, your face scrunched up and the tears began flowing. You weren't sure why you were crying. Maybe it was because you had just been brought back from the brink of death; maybe it was because you couldn't believe someone actually cared so deeply about you.

Finnick cradled your face in his hand. "It's okay," his voice trembled, tears now cascading down his cheeks. His smile, however, never disappeared. "You're okay. You're safe now. I'm not letting you go."

He took your face into two large hands, brought you to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss to each tear that rolled over your skin. One of your hands rested over his; the other was placed against his chest, feeling it rise and fall so you could synchronise your breaths.

His arms moved to pull you tightly against him, almost like he was trying to merge your body with his. Or perhaps, it was your soul. You didn't care about the pain aching in one of your ribs. You wanted to tell him that his soul was already intertwined with your own, but words couldn't describe the sentiment as profoundly as you felt it.

In the simplest of terms your water-logged brain could muster, you whispered, "You're my light, Finnick."

Brows scrunched together, he looked down at you, fighting back the urge to start sobbing in your arms. If he had been anywhere else, if there wasn't an entire country watching, he would've gone on for hours, explaining how stupidly, selfishly, and incredibly in love with you he was.

But he couldn't do that. Not now. So, he placed his hand over the one you had resting on his chest and readjusted its position. He could feel the thumping, even through your palm.

Your eyes were full of emotion as you stared up into his. You already knew what his next words were going to be and for the first time since you were thrown into the water from the Cornucopia, you smiled.

Rhythmically, your hand and his pulsed together. Finnick's gaze flickered across your face and he grinned. "You're my heart."

[monstersholygrail]

So about this Demon priest, I'm intrigued... go on. I can imagine as he's in the middle of a sermon, reader walks in, as reader just felt led to enter the church. As soon as Demon priest sees reader... he stumbles over the carefully and well prepare recitations. Sight focused on the back pew that reader silently sat on, not even noticing the uncharacteristic falter of the priest, nor realizing his eyes trained on them. He's been enraptured.

This is amazing, I am all for making this canon to Demon Priest. He’s so stinkin cute.

When you first walk into the church, Demon Priest swears he’s finally been graced with the presence of an angel once more. Your beauty ethereal, your presence divine in nature.

Hope blossoms within his chest that he has finally completed his repentance. That he will finally be welcomed back into those pearly gates. With heavens light shining back at him in your eyes how can he think otherwise?

He meets you after the service and realization dawns on him that you were not a messenger sent from above to take him to rejoin his fellow brethren. No, he realized instead that you were something far greater.

As part of his repentance, Demon Priest feels the pain of remaining inside a holy sanctuary. His feet burn with every step he takes, his hands while holding all blessed liturgical objects, and his face with the use of Holy water. With his demon healing they heal, only for them to come once more. Yet they each leave their own scars.

But as soon as your hand slips into his in greeting, Demon Priest feels as though a balm has been washed over his soul. The pain leaving him instantly with your touch. You certainly weren’t there to bring him home but perhaps you were something better than he could’ve ever imagined.

You were a gift.

Sent down from above and placed on his path. A testament to his strength and devotion. And he would be so utterly devoted. To you.

At every turn he seeked your approving gaze. At every chance he could risk he seeked your soothing touch. You had so utterly consumed him, turning his world upside down until it all came back to you.

It wasn’t long before he could no longer resist the idea of what it would be like to feel more of you. To grasp your supple flesh in his palms. Take your hardened nipples between his razor sharp teeth. Taste the sweet nectar of your essence on his tongue. He wanted all of you. To consume you as you had him.

Now as his hands run all over your body, leaving a lustful heat in his path, he finally has. The stain glass windows of his office shine down on you, illuminating your beauty as you ride his cock.

Your body bouncing so prettily along his hardened length, his eyes watch you with a feral hunger. Claws digging into your hips as he fucks up into you, not being able to help himself from taking you as roughly as he’s been wanting to. Your cries of pleasure being the most lovely sound he’s ever heard.

“Yes! It’s s-so good. Feels so good. I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you exclaim, baring your neck for him. His cock twitches within your wet heat, the curves of your body driving him closer to delirium.

He molds himself over your form, not being able to get close enough to the ecstasy of your skin. His lips latching on and sucking heartily at each of your breasts, leaving you panting as you try and match his every thrust.

“Tell me, my beloved, how can I be expected to deny you? That which I most crave. My greatest temptation…” he growls and you feel the vibration move through your body and shoot straight to your soaked core.

His claws sink into your plush hips, using his hold to slam you down on his needy cock. A hoarse cry is ripped from your lips. Hands finding purchase and bringing a soothing relief to his shoulders as he drives himself into you.

“Let me worship you,” he whispers with an intensity that sends chills up your spine. Yet you can’t focus on its meaning as your pleasure bursts through you, clenching down as you cum hard on his cock.

Demon priest grunts, his fierce eyes never leaving your expression so deeply filled with ecstasy. The sight of your pleasure enough to send him right over the edge with you, stuffing you full of his length as he shoots his cum deep into your womb.

And it’s in that moment he knows. He has found salvation in you.

[perfectlyoongi]

PRE-BOYFRIEND!JUNGKOOK who appears at your doorstep at two in the morning, eager to take you on a walk around the city under the starry sky. Jungkook would always say that he just wanted to eat, using convenience stores as an excuse to justify his need to be by your side at the most vulnerable time of the day. “come on! the night is too beautiful to be locked up at home. just an hour, please.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!JUNGKOOK who finds peace in your arms, not having any shame in asking you for a hug. between smiles and winks, Jungkook used his sweet voice to persuade you to wrap him in a strong hug, a quick hug, a playful hug — it didn't matter what kind, it just had to be yours. "it is written in the stars. if you don't give me a hug, your arms will fall off. i’m just looking out for your well-being.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!JUNGKOOK who never tires of saying that he adores you whenever he sees you, until he realizes that the emotion he felt was much more than adoration. Jungkook didn't stop telling you how much he liked you, he just said it less often, most of it with a pink tint on his cheeks. “you know, i know you must be tired of hearing it, but… i really like you, yea? never forget that, please.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!JUNGKOOK who admires you from a distance, puppy eyes full of passion and devotion. a smile was always drawn on Jungkook's face every time he looked at you, his heart beating a little faster every time you looked at him and returned the smile. “i can swear you were created by gods and stars. it is impossible for a person like you, a soul like you, to be fully human.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!JUNGKOOK who invites you to all his performances and is genuinely sad when you can't go see him. he knows you have commitments to attend to, he knows you have a life beyond your friendship, but he just wanted to have the person he liked most rooting for him. “don’t feel obligated to go, please! but i can't lie. knowing that you are there for me gives me strength to do my best.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!JUNGKOOK who is filled with pride every time he sees you happy with life. Jungkook knows how cruel life can be, and he knows perfectly well that not every day will be good, but when he sees you so smiling, so playful, as if there was no evil in the world, he could only feel pride that you were so strong. “i like to see how happiness makes you more beautiful. it’s as if you were kissed by the sun itself.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!JUNGKOOK who kisses you for the first time under the stars on one of your night walks. a little nervous, with his heart racing, Jungkook didn't hesitate to estabilize your relationship when his hand gently caressed your face and your lips came together in a tender, slow, passionate kiss. “let’s forget what we are just for a moment, and try to imagine what we could be together.”

[c0s-lettuce]

wonder - sergei kravinoff x reader

gender not mentioned, uses aspects from the movie but no actual spoilers

a/n: aaron taylor-johnson, what a man. i think this is the fastest i've written a fic after watching the movie/show. hope you enjoy reading! <3

word count: 1026

warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of violence, minimal swearing

Sergei and his father have always had their differences. The patriarch would always prattle on about weakness and fear. It was exhausting and mostly certainly not something Sergei missed.

You were a weakness, though. Sergei was sure of this. He kept very few people in his life, and all were for good reason. You were the only exception. He ought to stay away from you, for your sake and his. But he could never bring himself to do so, no matter how hard he tried.

Initially, your relationship with Sergei was purely transactional. Your body for his, and he would be out of your hair soon after. It didn't take long for that to change. He knew he was beginning to grow attached, but he didn't care. He was sure the feeling was mutual.

You were like a balm for his soul, a remedy for the loneliness his line of work brought him. The only intimacy he had with other people was when he was driving sharp objects into the necks of his targets. His hunts were intense and chaotic, but they were something he knew well and was exceptionally good at.

Being intimate with you wasn't so different, except it was infinitely more beautiful. Sergei revelled in the way you trusted and desired him, in how you consumed each of his senses. And the way you fit against him made him wonder more than once whether the two of you were made for each other.

But there were days when he craved more than just your body. He would find himself longing for your gentle embrace and honeyed words. You offered him more affection than he deserved, more than whatever this casual arrangement called for. Yet you gave anyway, and he was all too eager to take.

He adored the feeling of your lips against his forehead and your fingers in his hair as he rested beside you, basking in the blissful state you would leave him in. He would rest his head on your chest, and your heartbeat would drown out the otherwise unbearable noises of your apartment building. And he would fall asleep in your arms.

Sergei was an enigma to you. When it came to his profession, both of you agreed that the less you knew, the better. It was strange, you thought. You were aware of his reputation. But he was so sweet with you, so vulnerable. Sometimes, it made you wonder what else he could be with you. It's then when you would stop your train of thought and join him in sleep.

He would always wake first. And as he looked upon your sleeping form, he would tell himself that now is the best time to leave. And he would at first, with no more than a lingering glance. But the glance lingered longer each time.

He immediately knew he made a mistake the day he decided to stay. There was a particular look in your eyes when you woke up and found him still next to you. Sergei couldn't quite place it. Was it relief? Amusement? Hope?

No, he wouldn't let himself think it was anything akin to love.

Either way, it was addictive. He vowed to never miss any opportunities to see it again.

But on this occasion, Sergei seeks you out after an especially gruelling hunt. He sleeps deeper and for longer than usual. A soft, high-pitched meow wakes him in the morning. He opens his eyes and sees that you're gone. The door is ajar, and your voice can be heard talking to someone on the phone. You sound irritated.

Sergei finally turns his attention to the small blob that has taken your spot in the bed. Sitting there is your cat, Suki, staring wide-eyed at him.

"Hello," he greets her, his voice rough as he readjusts to the waking world.

Suki meows again as if replying to him. Sergei cracks a small smile and props himself up on his elbow. He scoops Suki closer, and she happily snuggles up to him. He busies himself with giving her scratches and belly rubs as he waits for you.

You return to the bedroom soon enough, looking down at your phone with disdain. You sit down on the edge of the bed with your back facing Sergei, tapping away at the screen.

"Everything alright?" he asks you.

"Yeah," you say, "Just my work deciding to bother me on a Saturday morning."

"What do they want?"

"To remind me of deadlines. Don't worry, I'm very politely telling them to fuck off."

Sergei lets out a chuckle. "Alright, good."

Suki's purrs fill the silence as you finish typing your angry text message. You place your phone down with a huff and look over to see Sergei pampering your cat. The sight warms your heart.

"You know, she sits and stares at the front door for at least twenty minutes everytime you leave," you tell him.

Sergei looks up at you, amused. "Really?"

"Yeah, I think she loves you more than me," you reply.

Sergei laughs, looking back at Suki. "Is that right, киса? Do you love me?"

Again, she meows right on cue. You notice she's rather enthusiastic for a cat. Ignoring your daughter's betrayal, you lie back down beside Suki and her new dad. Your eyes fall closed, the comfort of sleep still tempting you.

"You got any plans for today?" Sergei asks after a moment.

"No," you answer, "Just hoping to relax."

He nods, but you don't see it. You also don't notice how he seems to be debating something with himself. After a few seconds, he makes up his mind.

"I'll make us breakfast then," Sergei says.

You open your eyes, surprised. He's never offered to do that before, let alone stayed long enough for you to offer it instead. When you turn to look at him, he's already getting up and heading to the door. Suki gets up after him, carelessly stepping over your stomach to follow him out of the bedroom.

As the pair disappear into the kitchen, you lie there in stunned silence, wondering what's gotten into Sergei. Though, you're definitely not complaining.

➸

[totallynotmina]

SAD BEAUTIFUL TRAGIC.

❝ kiss me, try to fix it. could you just try to listen? ❞

info. re6 leon 𝔁 fem reader. i wanna say reader is like helena's age maybe? it doesn't really matter. established relationship. very angsty with a bittersweet ending. leon's a mess ok but he swears he loves you. mentions of alcohol consumption/alcoholism. sfw, spare for a handful of somber, desperate kisses.

notes. i don't listen to taylor like i did when i was thirteen but this song is so ugh. reblogs & comments are always appreciated. <3

wc. 3.9k | ao3 link

You’d tried to fix him, as if stitching together the frayed edges of his soul could silence the storm inside him. But every attempt only left you more hollow, more desperate. His misery seeped into your home like an uninvited guest, a shadow that devoured the light, eroding the fragile moments you used to call happiness. Leon had become a ghost of the man you’d fallen for—present in body but distant, unreachable, and haunting in his silence.

The walls between you grew thicker with every passing day. Words, once tender and easy, had become brittle and sharp. No matter how far you reached, his touch always seemed just out of grasp, his warmth slipping further from your fingertips.

Your mother always said: never give more love than you receive. But she’d never prepared you for how impossible that would feel when the person you loved most was unraveling before your eyes. The weight of it all dragged you to new lows, a kind of emotional exhaustion that made your chest ache and your mind wonder when the dam would finally break—when you’d either stop loving him or lose yourself entirely.

The rain pattered insistently against the windows, the occasional rumble of thunder shaking the silence. When the front door clicked open, your heart jolted despite yourself. His heavy footsteps echoed in the stillness, as familiar as they were foreboding. You tried to focus on the book in your hands, but the words blurred, forgotten the second they hit your mind.

You didn’t need to look up to know. The way the air shifted, the subtle tension of his presence—it was Leon. You could already feel it, the simmering frustration he carried like a second skin.

Figures.

His keys clattered onto the console table, a metallic sound that cut through the quiet like an accusation. His bag followed with a dull thud, then the sigh—low, heavy, resigned. You looked up in time to catch the way his hair clung to his rain-soaked face, his boots kicked off haphazardly by the door.

For a fleeting moment, his eyes met yours, and you thought—hoped—he might smile. But he didn’t. Of course he didn’t. He couldn't even be bothered to spare you, his sweet girlfriend, a single glance.

“You’re home,” you murmured, stepping cautiously closer, your voice barely louder than the rain.

Leon hesitated, his lips parting as if to speak, but no sound came. The silence was a knife, sharp and cold, carving through the fragile hope you hadn’t yet managed to smother.

He flinched when you reached for his arm. That hurt most of all.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, his voice rough and distant, as if it was a chore.

“You didn’t,” you replied softly. “I couldn’t sleep. Not until I knew you were okay.”

His jaw tightened imperceptibly, baby blue eyes darting away in shame. Leon didn't want you to see how tired he looked, how the weight of his missions—or maybe the weight of everything—had stretched him thin.

"Is everything—"

"I'm fine." The words came too quickly, too curt. They were meant to end the conversation, but all they did was light a fresh spark of frustration in your chest. He brushed past you, his worn leather jacket hitting the floor with a heavy thud.

You picked it up with a quiet sigh, hanging it on the coat rack as if that small act of care might bridge the growing chasm between you. "You don't look fine," you said, keeping your tone gentle, almost cautious. Talking to your boyfriend shouldn't feel like tip-toeing around glass. Was it so wrong to be concerned about the man you loved so hopelessly?

Leon didn't answer. He collapsed onto the edge of couch, his elbows on his knees, calloused hands running through his semi-damp hair. His silence, albeit suffocating, spoke louder than words—another wall, another barrier he so intricately placed between the two of you.

"Leon," you tried again, siting beside him, voice trembling with the heavy load of everything you wanted to say. Trying to get a single, meaningful sentence out of Leon these days felt like pulling teeth. "Please, just talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about." His tone was clipped, but underneath the surface, you heard the slight crack, the exhaustion bleeding through the cracks. You could see it in the way Leon's eyes were half-lidded, the way he pinched the bridge of his nose, his fingers digging into his eyelids. The exasperated sigh he let out was the cherry on top.

You replied softly, equally as exhausted, "I'm not an idiot."

Finally, Leon snapped, like a rubber band pulled taut, "Why do you always have to push?" His tone was sharp enough to make you flinch—and you did. Regret flickered in his eyes almost instantly, but it wasn't enough to stop the sting. The slap had already been left on your poor cheek.

Why do you always have to push? His words repeat over and over again in your mind, like a broken record. 

That wasn't fair, you always gave Leon the space he deserved after his long, taxing missions, but tonight you were struggling to stay afloat. It wasn't fair to you, constantly playing nice even when he showed zero signs of changing any time soon. He had to realize that this wouldn't slide, not anymore.

And as much as it troubled your lovesick heart, if Leon wasn't willing to let you in, then he wasn't ready for a relationship. A healthy one, at least.

"Because I love you!" you cried, the words bursting out before you could stop them, raw and desperate. "Because I'm here, Leon, and I'm fucking trying, but you just won't let me in, no matter how hard I try. You just—" You stopped, swallowing thickly, trying to steady your cracking voice. "Y-You just keep shutting me out like I'm some stranger you couldn't give a damn about."

His shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him just as quickly as it had been triggered. Leon looked at you then, really looked, and for a moment, you thought he might finally say what you needed—no, deserved—to hear. But instead, he shook his head, sullen gaze falling to the carpeted floor.

"You don't get it." he said, barely above a whisper. "You couldn't."

Honestly, you'd prefer if Leon had kept his mouth shut. Not a single word of reassurance, or an I love you too, baby. The sickening, heavy weight of his cruel sentiment settled deep in your bones, nearly rattling you in place.

"That's not fair," you bit down on your bottom lip, a poor attempt at keeping your composure. "Maybe I don't understand everything you've been through, but I'm here for you because I love you," pathetic, so pathetic, "and I want to help. Why won't you let me? Why do you insist on wallowing in your own misery?"

Leon stood abruptly, his movements sharp, restless. "Because it's not that simple." Just the way he said that made you feel stupid. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Every time I leave, I don't know if I'll come back," he stared directly at you, burning holes into your own eyes, "And when I do, I'm not the same. I can't give you what you want. I don't know how."

Tears dewed your lash line, "Then learn," you pleaded, standing up and grabbing ahold of his hand. "If you love me, if you really care...then try. That's all I want." If only he knew how much it killed you to watch him fall apart while he kept you at an arm's length.

With a sharp sigh, he scowled, "I am trying," his tone was terse, cold. "Can't you see that? Can't you see how hard it is for me to come home and pretend everything's okay when it's really not?" Leon scoffed in disbelief. Fucking fantastic. After a barely surviving a demanding mission that sucked the soul out of him, now he was arguing with his girlfriend that didn't have the slightest idea of the things he witnessed.

The look of pure anguish on your pretty face tugged at Leon's heartstrings. The little pout, most of all. Poor you looked so shaken up, unable to utter a single word in response. "You deserve someone who can give you something better than this, baby." He freed his hand from your grasp, and brought it up to your cheek, his thumb stroking over the soft skin. You leaned into his touch instinctively.

But you still relented, "You don't get to decide that for me, Leon. You don't get to push me away because you think it's easier." Your hand clasped over his, moving it away from your cheek and back down to his side. His lips part.

“Is this about her?” you then asked, the bitterness oozing into your gentle tone before you could stop it.

As if his night couldn't get any worse...He knew exactly who you were talking about, and it made his blood boil.

Leon blinked, his brows furrowing. "What?"

Feigning ignorance. Classic. An insult to your intelligence, really.

“Ada.” You hated the salty way the name tasted on your tongue. “Is that why you’re like this? Because she’s still in your head? Or because you think I’ll never measure up to her?” 

You didn’t need Leon to answer that; the thought alone was enough to unravel you. Ada was everything you weren’t—dangerous, intoxicating, unattainable. She moved through the world like she owned it, all sharp smiles and quiet confidence, the kind of woman who left destruction in her wake but made you thank her for it anyway.

She didn’t ask for love; she demanded it, consumed it, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation. How could you, with your soft edges and wide-open heart, ever hope to compare? You weren’t a storm—just the aftermath, picking up the pieces she’d shattered. If anything, you felt like some naïve, wide-eyed child who had no perception of the real world—you could never hold a candle to her.

Leon's face twisted, a flicker of anger lighting his tired eyes. "Don't even go there," he seethed, "This has nothing to do with her. This is about me, and my problems." Funny how he'd gotten so defensive all of a sudden.

"Isn't it, though?" you challenged, matching his tone. "Because it feels like I've been fighting ghosts since the moment we met. I don't— I don't even know if you're really here with me, or if part of you is still chasing after her."

You got him there. "That's not fair," Leon said, his voice low but icy. He wasn't outright denying anything, much to your dismay. Nausea churned in your stomach at the thought him truly still loving her. The fact that you couldn't even blame him either made it all the more painful.

"Fair?" you echoed, frustration coursing hotly through your veins. "No, you know what isn't fair, Leon? Loving someone who's too scared to let me in. Someone who would rather run far, far away from me than let their guard down." It was getting harder and harder to suppress your tears, and Leon noticed.

God, Leon felt so sick. How the fuck was he supposed to fix this now?

Before he got the chance to say something in response—as if he had anything to say—you continued your siege, "You don't get to keep doing this. You don't get to keep pushing me away and shutting me out and then expecting me to stay with open arms." And legs.

His lips parted, but whatever words he had to say succumbed to their death, strangling his throat, before they could even reach you. A single tear rolled down your cheek, finally slipping free.

"I can't do this right now." you whimpered, shaking your head in disbelief and backing away from him.

"Wait—" But you were already retreating towards your shared bedroom, the door clicking shut behind you, quiet but final. Leon stood frozen in the middle of the dimly lit living room, staring at the empty space where you had been pouring your heart just moments ago.

And you were gone. Out of sight, but the sound of your sobs and cries echoed throughout the small apartment.

Leon ran a shaky hand through his hair, letting out a shuddering breath. He felt deflated, even more drained and tired than he initially had when he first stepped through the front door. The storm outside raged on, thunder rumbling in the distance, but the silence that enveloped the place felt heavier. Suffocating.

His gaze drifted towards the kitchen, eyeing a specific cabinet. Leon knew he shouldn't—knew you hated it when he turned to the bottle instead of you—but the ache in his chest was unbearable.

He needed something, anything, to dull the edges of his agonizing guilt.

His hands still trembled as he poured a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the faint glow of the lamp. Leon stared at it for a long moment, trying to find the strength to resist—and he almost did, almost poured the poison down the drain.

But then, like always, he brought the glass up to his lips, and took a slow, deliberate sip, swallowing it down neat. The burn was familiar, grounding, but it did little to quell the thoughts racing through his mind. He'd never felt so pathetic, so miserable in his entire life.

You deserved better than this. Better than him.

"I've been fighting ghosts since the moment we met."

You were right. Damn it, you were right. Leon had been so caught up in his own head, caught in a quicksand of despair, that he didn't even realize he was doing exactly what he feared most—dragging you into his own mess. He was tearing you apart at the seams, stitch by stitch, without even realizing it.

That wasn't even the half of it, though. Ada. He hated that her name had come up, hated that she still lingered like a dark, looming shadow, haunting the spaces between you with a coy smile on her red lips. But the thing is, you weren't her. You weren't some fleeting, elusive dream. You were real, here, and you loved him despite all the reasons he thought you shouldn't.

The drink wasn't helping. If anything, it only heightened the feelings of remorse. With a frustrated sigh, Leon set the empty glass down with a thud, and scrubbed a calloused hand over his face. He decided doing some paperwork might do a better job at keeping his mind off things.

Fast forward an hour, and it in fact, had not helped him. Not even in the slightest. He groaned, slumping over his desk and burying his face in his hands, an air of weariness surrounding him like a thick, stormy cloud. Leon sat in the quiet, the weight of his own thoughts pressing down on him until he couldn't take it anymore. He stood up from his swivel chair, and head straight over to the sweetest girl he knew.

His steps were slow and prudent, as if each step towards the bedroom door was a battle in itself, a march to the guillotine. Leon hesitated, his hand hovering over the doorknob, before swallowing his pride and finally knocking softly.

"...It's me, baby." Who else would it be? He mentally chastised himself for sounding so pitiful. "Can I come in?"

There was a long beat of silence from your end. Leon almost thought you might not answer. He wouldn't be mad if you didn't. But then came your precious voice, muffled and tired. "The door's not locked."

Cautiously, Leon pushed it open, his heart was pounding in the confines of his chest—like he'd drunk an entire pot of coffee—as he stepped inside the bedroom. You were sitting on the floor cross-legged, back against the foot of your bed. Your arms were wrapped around your body, as if you were holding yourself together, afraid of collapsing like a house of cards caught in a gust of wind.

Christ, the sight nearly tore Leon apart; he couldn't even begin to imagine how you were feeling.

"Hey, sweet thing," he said softly, unsure of where to begin. He strode towards you, kneeling down to your level, and brought a hand up to stroke your tear-stained cheek. You grimaced. "I...I wanted to talk. Apologize."

You, however, didn't say anything in response, didn't lean into his touch like you always did. You even refused to meet his gaze, unsurprisingly. It hurt Leon nonetheless, but at least you weren't frantically kicking him out. He took that as permission to continue.

"I'm sorry," his voice was thick with remorse and shame, "For what I said earlier. For...everything, really. I didn't mean any of it."

"You didn't mean it, or you didn't mean to say it out loud." Ouch.

Leon winced, the words hitting him harder than he expected, like a bitch slap right across the face. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he pleaded, "Jesus, I could never. I was—" he stopped himself, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair. "I've been an ass. Taking all my shit out on you when you've done nothing but try to help me."

Finally, your bloodshot eyes meet his, sharp but wounded. "You think an apology fixes this? Think it erases the way you've been shutting me out, making me feel like I'm not enough for you?" you hissed bitterly, swatting his hand away from your face like an obnoxious mosquito. Leon swallowed thickly, backing up a bit.

"No, of course not," he shook his head. "I know it doesn't. I just...I just don't know how to do this."

"Do what?" you asked. "Let someone love you?"

"Yeah," Leon admitted, feeling like an open wound. "That. Letting someone in, it...it scares me, baby. I can't help it."

You stared at him for a long moment. He could see the war in your eyes—the hurt battling against the love you still hopelessly felt for him. "I don't need you to be perfect, Leon. I just need you to try. To meet me halfway." It was the least he could, wasn't it?

"I want to. I will. I just...I need you to know that I love you, even when I'm too much of a coward to show it. I love you. And I'm sorry for making you feel like that isn't true."

For a fraction of a second, Leon thought he'd won you over, mended your shattered heart, and that things would go back to normal, like when you first started seeing each other. However, that hope crumbled the moment you didn't kiss him back, his chapped lips lingering awkwardly over yours. He pulled away in shame.

"No, Leon." You wiped at your eyes, frustrated by the tears you couldn't hold back, streaming hotly down your cheeks. "You don't get to say you're sorry and just expect me to forget how much this has been hurting me." The lovelorn, sick part of you just wanted to accept his semi-sincere apology and move on with your life, but the more self-respecting half had overpowered that desire.

"You kiss me, try to fix it. But you never listen." you swallowed hard, taking a moment to gather your restless thoughts. "Don't tell me you're scared, or that you're broken, or whatever excuse you think I'm going to forgive this time. Because I know you're hurting, Leon. I know you've been through hell. But I'm here," your voice cracked, embarrassment crawling up your neck, "I always have been."

"Just please...stop making me feel so fucking stupid for staying. Like I'm wasting my time loving someone who doesn't even want to be loved."

Leon didn't even know what to say in response to that. His mouth dried uncomfortably, paralyzed by the impact of your desperate words. Again, like always, you were right. He didn't have a single thing to defend himself, because he really was in the wrong, trapped in a mire of hopelessness. It was oozing its dirty self into his relationship, tainting the one good thing he had in his godforsaken life.

So, he could only whisper, "You're right." His arms wrapped around your frame, caging you in effectively. You didn't protest against his embrace, making the most of the warmth and comfort it spread through your frigid bones. "I am so, so sorry," he mumbled, his hand cradling the back of your head, holding you close to his chest.

"I need you, sweetheart, more than I've needed anyone. You're the light of my fucking life, I just...I don't know how to be the man you deserve." Leon pressed desperate, frantic kisses against your forehead, then to your cheeks, tasting your salty tears on his lips.

"But I'll try, for you. I swear to God, I'll try." The crack in his voice was unmistakable. It tore you to shreds.

Against your better judgment, against all the hurt and anger that simmered beneath the surface, you pulled back a bit, enough to see the forlorn, crestfallen look that etched itself into Leon's jaded features, then to notice your tears that had stained his t-shirt. You bit the corner of your lip, a feeble attempt at suppressing your sobs, you then leaned in, lips capturing his in a kiss that was neither soft nor forgiving.

It was desperate, messy, and filled with everything the two of you couldn't say. All the love, the pain, the hope you somehow hadn't given up on yet. His tongue slipped past the crack of your lips, hands roughly gripping onto your thighs and coaxing you onto his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist. Teeth clicked against one another, noses bumping into the other's cheek, foreheads pressed tightly. His stubble scratched your soft skin deliciously.

"You're all I have left," Leon murmured breathlessly between kisses, his voice thick with a maelstrom of emotions, the rawness of his confession hanging heavily in the charged air. His hands smoothed up your figure, finding purchase in your hair as he pulled you closer; he thought you might vanish if he let go, even for a moment.

You melted against him, like butter, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, trying to tether yourself to this moment—to him. Leon's lips tasted of something bittersweet—maybe cinnamon—the kiss holding a desperation that bordered on aching, as if he was trying to pour every unspoken apology and feeling into it.

A single tear rolled down Leon's flushed cheeks as you pulled away for air, forehead resting against his. His breath was warm against your lips, a sign he was real and right next to you. That this wasn't some dream, but reality.

Probably not the time, nor the place, but Leon was so fucking pretty when he cried.

You brought your hand up, the soft pad of your thumb stroking it away. He leaned into your gentle touch like a kicked puppy, pressing a soft kiss against the tip of your thumb as it brushed over his bottom lip.

"I don't deserve you," he whispered, the words barely audible but so full of meaning it made your chest ache, "but I don't know how to let you go."

[girlokwhatever]

as a sleepy girl i would love some sleepy girl inspired smut🫣 with paige

YESS PERIOD i’m a sucker for this

.ೃ࿐𐦍༘⋆*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆ early morning,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

once you feel the familiar sensation of paige’s hands on your stomach, you lean into the warmth. its welcoming and gentle, making your skin tingle wherever she leaves the ghost of her affection. she’s trying to pull you out of your slumber, her patience wearing thin.

it always does. you sleep late on the weekends and paige can’t stand it. she has to wait for you and never lasts very long in her attempts of letting you sleep.

even though it’s only 8 am, she doesn’t think she can wait any longer.

the air around you is cold, encouraging you to seek comfort in your girlfriend. you’re turning over onto your back, craning your neck in her direction and entangling your legs together. you’re easily able to admire her beauty from your position below her, taking note of her wavy golden hair. her aura brightens the room, a white light glowing around you and you feel it in your soul.

she’s admiring you too; your skin is glowing and you look radiant. you whine at the sun hitting your eyes and it makes her stomach flutter with the memories of last night.

you under her, legs spread and thighs glistening. she swears your pussy is speaking to her, begging for attention. so wet you’re dripping down onto the blanket under you. you were whining because she just kept looking instead of addressing your needs. she had you practically grinding into the bed. every little sound you made drove her crazy, sending her mind into a frenzy.

this morning was no different. she feels you open your legs from under the covers, stretching out the morning stiffness. if she had a dick, paige is absolutely certain she’d have morning wood.

she slots her bare knee between your legs. once it connects, you’re letting out a whimper and gripping her arm. she feels the dampness between your legs and knows you’re wet too. your girlfriend relishes in the way your heat feels against her, your slick making a mark on her knee.

“mornin’ sleeping beauty,”

your lips connect, working together in a serene unison. it lacks any rush, just the pure and sultry intimacy of your love clashing together. you’re getting drunk on the feeling, not even fully awake yet. you can hardly breathe, pulling away to gather yourself. the arousal you both feel floats in the room, suffocating both of you.

her head is buried in your neck now, peppering soft kisses as she reaches her hand into your underwear. she immediately finds your throbbing nub, lightly pinching and massaging it. you choke on a moan at her ministrations, letting your eyes flutter open before you’re quickly shutting them again.

paige gathers your slick and admires the way she can lubricate her hand with it, gliding it over your own skin. she’s moaning into your skin as she gently pushes her finger into you. you’re squeezing her so nice and she’s only half-way in, your core yearning for her.

she goes slow, knowing you’re still sleepy and tired from last night’s activities. your girlfriend doesn’t mind though, appreciating the lovingness of it all. she feels like one harsh moment might shatter you into a million pieces.

“s’pretty baby, can’t get enough.” she glides a second finger in and out of you, the silence of the morning being interrupted by the sounds of your wetness. you’re nodding at her words, already too blissed out.

“can i taste you baby? you want me to?” you’re moaning out a ‘please’ and she’s up on her knees, kissing all of your skin. she’s making her way down to breakfast, sucking little hickeys on your hip and stomach.

now she’s on her own stomach, hand up your shirt and your legs on her shoulders, wrapping slightly around her head. her free hand pushes your panties to the side and spreads you open, snaking around your thigh with a ghost-like touch. she’s so soft, fingers gliding over and toying gently with your nipples while she wraps her lips around your clit. your back arches off the bed with a whispered praise that she doesn’t hear. you taste so good her ears ring and her vision blurs, only able to focus on the feeling of you in her mouth. your arousal is sticky on her chin but she doesn’t notice that either, only focused on the task at hand.

she wants to make sure you’re fully satisfied so she pulls away from your clit and prods her tongue gently against your entrance. you’re practically a waterfall at this point, your wetness gushing onto her tongue. she appreciates it all, pride swelling her heart and ego when she realizes she’s the reason.

your hand travels down to your clit and draws feather light circles. she thinks it might be the hottest thing ever, only encouraging her to push her tongue deeper against your walls. she’s searching for the spongey texture of your g-spot and she knows she’s found it when you creen off the bed. you’re breathing deep in your sleepy haze, skin glowing from the sticky sweat in the sunlight of the morning.

she hears your breathless whimper about how close you are and it motivates her to massage her tongue against you just the way you like, wanting to hear your moans as you finish. you’re teetering on the edge of blissful release, one last pinch to your nipple, one last finger circling on your clit, one last tongue curl and you’re falling into the feeling. your hips twitch against paige’s face as she cleans away your slick.

once she sits back up you notice it all over her mouth and chin, her face glistening in the light. she’s smiling big and rubbing your thighs, her day off to a great start. she leans up to kiss you after realizing she’s only done it once today, but you’re turning away and groaning.

“gross. go wash your face.”

“why would i wash it off. that’s like throwing out leftovers.”

“ew paige!” you’re lightly slapping her wrist. you both have a slight groggy morning voice and after being satisfied so well, you can already feel yourself drifting back to sleep.

“‘m going back to sleep,” voice muffled by the pillow, paige hardly understands you. but after all her work, after knowing she’s satisfied you, she also welcomes the idea of sleep.

she wipes her face off and quickly joins you again, pulling you on top of her. after a few minutes, your soft breath on her neck coaxes her into a light sleep. your limbs are tangled, wrapped around each other for extra warmth and comfort. your skin is soft against hers and she wishes she could absorb you into her own skin, never wanting to be away from you.

paige realizes she’s never been happier than she is whenever she’s with you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺₊⊹

period 😘😘😘😘😜

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