#and he never takes that mask off even if it kills him

[innerfare]

Killer Relationship Headcanons 

Summary: A collection of headcanons about being in a relationship with Killer

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

Killer fell first and fell harder. He didn’t realize it was happening at first, he was just as shocked as you were to realize he turned into a rabid dog when anyone so much as mentioned your name, fighting anyone who so much as looked at you the wrong way. Even more shocking was the sweeter side you brought out of him. 

You had no idea what was happening in Killer’s head. To you, Killer was just a crew mate, and not just any crew mate: the first mate. You had the wherewithal to clock the man in the mask as emotionally unavailable and that was that. Sure, you often went for drinks together, but only with the whole crew, and yeah, you laughed at the same jokes and ate the same meals, but it was as crew mates, the lines clearly drawn and the knowledge that he was dangerous always in the back of your head. 

But then he started doing things for you. 

He started making a different side at dinner because the one he was serving everyone else wasn’t something you would eat. He started giving you the best piece of dessert, much to Kid’s chagrin. He started stepping aside when it came time to board the Victoria Punk to allow you to board first. He started scaring off men at pubs and taverns before they ever got the change to be rejected by you. Oh, and he started intervening in all of your fights. 

You take the fighting bit personally, never having considered he was into you. You think he’s just underestimating you, thinking you can’t hold your own in a fight. This leads you to confront him one night, more than prepared to duel him to prove your worth as a pirate and warrior. He shocks you by coming clean and confessing his feelings for you, though not exactly in a romantic way. It’s more like he’s pissed off by your accusations and snaps at you that he can’t stand the idea of you getting hurt. He storms off afterwards. 

It takes you a few days to process what he told you because it makes you see him in a completely different light. Gone is the cold-blooded killer you shared a ship with, here is the man who has been taking care of you in small ways without you even realizing. And the most shocking part is how the idea of him stopping makes your chest ache. You grew accustomed to his affection without even realizing. 

You wait until around midnight, when you know he goes into the shower alone, and follow him in. He lets you see him without his mask, and you share your first kiss. That’s that, and from that point forward, the two of you are an item. 

The shower becomes the main place the two of you spend alone time together. Killer finds it easier to let his guard down. He’s going to take his mask off anyway to wash up, which makes it easier to do with you around. He’s able to convince himself it’s not a big deal, and the fact that you’re so cool about it helps. His face is a secret the two of you share, as are his kisses and kind words and difficult past. 

You’re his safe space and he’s yours. 

Don’t expect him to stop intervening in your fights now that you share his bed every night. He claims it’s because you’re too slow and he got to the enemies first, or because you looked like you already had your hands full, but you know the real reason he jumps in. 

He always keeps one of the counters clear in the kitchen so you can sit on it while he cooks. Everything that lands on the table is tasted by you first. 

Merciless teasing by Kid (he’s just jealous). 

After he eats his fruit, you realize not all of his laughs are the same, and you learn to read his emotions based on the different laughs, speaking a language he hates but is oh so grateful to you for learning. 

This is the sort of thing your relationship is built on- subtleties. It’s what made him fall in love with you and it’s the reason he would kill or die for you. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[cupidsdolll]

pairings: best friend!Harry x fem!reader

summary: Y/N's having a bad day and who better to help than her best friend

word count: 2.2k

authors note: hi hello!! here’s something that’s been sitting in my drafts for a whileeeee while i work on chapter three! :) hope you enjoy!!

TW: for a mention of self harm but the only thing she does is pinch her arms over and over again, please read with caution or don’t read if it triggers you or make you uncomfortable. i love you❤️

----

Y/N’s always been such a happy person, always there for all her friends, always having a smile on her face and making sure her friends are okay. She’s always been that one friend that no matter what time it is, she’ll always be there to lend a listening ear and provide the needed solace. 

She’s always been that friend that’ll give the ones she cares about the last of her anything, always willing to give the last of her money to help a friend in need, willing to give the clothes off her back if it was necessary. She’s just a giver by nature. She’s always been the friend to go to whenever you need advice, always taking care of her friends, giving them whatever’s needed. 

Because she’s grown to be able to mask her emotions, it’s hard to tell whenever she’s not able to fully give as much, whenever she starts feeling down and gets in her head. No one notices as she starts becoming quieter, smaller, less. 

She very rarely has bad days, her sunshine personality weeding its way through the dark clouds and allowing her to smile and laugh her way through the day. It’s easy to forget why her day was bad when she’s around friends, but it’s especially easy when she’s around him. Her best friend, her right hand man, her everything in a sense. 

Her and Harry had become friends when she stumbled into him and spilled her tea all over his cream flared pants and she over-apologized until he laughed it off and rubbed her head gently. After that, they became inseparable, always attached at the hip. They were close, close enough to where whenever they were out by themselves they were constantly asked how long they’ve been together, they were constantly mistaken for a long term couple. At the question, they’d both blush softly and deny the question by laughing and shaking their heads as they smile and say they’re just friends. 

They’ve always been just friends and neither have entertained the thought of becoming more, not seeing the point of appeasing everyone else as long as they were happy. He’s always noticing her, takes in the small details and keeps them all in a special folder in his brain and his heart. 

He notices how she’ll sway lightly in her seat whenever she’s happy, he notices how her nose scrunches whenever she genuinely laughs, he notices how she never leaves without a hug and ‘I love you’, how she puts her hand over a sharp corner when her friend bends down to get something, how she makes sure to never split the pole and to always give a little snack to any cat or dog she sees on the street. 

He also notices when she starts distancing herself in conversation, how her lip will quiver and her eyebrows furrow the tiniest bit when she’s upset but can’t sneak away, he notices that when she starts playing with her rings that means she’s in her head or she’s uncomfortable, he notices how her glossy eyes will lose the light in them whenever she’s having a bad day. He notices things that she doesn’t even notice in herself and he prides himself in knowing her so well. 

She’s his complete other half, his soulmate, he can’t imagine his life without her and refuses to even think about that. He can just feel whenever her energy shifts ever so slightly and he’s always been there to help her. 

But he knows that when she has the bad days she prefers to deal with it alone, she’ll start excusing herself from the friend group when she’s asked to hang out. Her most used excuse is she’s on her period and her cramps are just killing her, and he knows that’s when it’s bad, when her pain is at its worst and she can’t bother to attempt to mask. 

Her body aches, she can feel the pain rooting itself deep in her bones, she’s tense as her muscles scream at her. Her bloodshot eyes sting painfully as fat and heavy tears stream down her pink cheeks, her lips chapped no matter how many times she licks them. She can feel her head pounding and throbbing from how long she’s been crying, her throat sore and tight as she hiccups. 

Her arms are beginning to form a slight hue of red and she can feel bruises beginning to form as she pinches them quickly, trying to distract her mind from the intense feelings of her own emotions flooding through. The muscles in her stomach are tense and uncomfortable at the amount of heavy sobs and pants that flow through her body and out of her plump lips. 

She can’t remember what triggered all of this, her brain too fuzzy to even remember if she grabbed her list to ground her. As she cries and screams into the empty space, she can feel her lungs expand as she breathes, she can feel the light touch of her loose tank top brush lightly against her skin, she can feel the loose strands of hair brushing against the back of her neck. 

She feels as if she can’t breathe, it feels like her bedroom is caving in on her, the small room only seeming to grow smaller and smaller as her breath gets stronger and shaky. Her hand scrambles around her messy bed, searching for the list containing ways for her to calm down and a shaky sob racks through her body when she realizes she can’t find it. 

She closes her eyes tightly as she brings her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them, burying her face into her legs she can’t help as she shakes her head. She doesn’t know how long this has been going on, how long she’s trapped herself in her room, but she hopes it’ll be over soon. 

She grabs her phone from her beside table and with shaky hands she unlocks it and clicks on her messages app. She quickly taps on the conversation she’s looking for and attempts to write out a message. 

——

Sweet Girl: H, can u come over please

She doesn’t have to wait long for a response from him as her phone dings a couple seconds later.

Haz: Of course sweet girl. Do you need/want me to bring anything for you? Some food maybe?

Sweet: Girl: if u want, just want you rn

Haz: Ok bug. I’m gonna get us some food and then I’ll be over. See you soon x

Sweet Girl: kay, thanks H. love u

Haz: I love you sweet girl, just try to breathe for me, I won’t be too long and I’ll use my key so you don’t have to get up. 

——-

As she tries to focus on her breathing, attempting to take slow and deep breaths, she wipes her face to clear away the tears on her cheeks. She sniffles and wraps her arms around her torso gently as she lies in her bed, the soft material and warmth from her cover enveloping her and makes her smile softly. 

She’s only able to enjoy a couple moments of peace before another painful sobs rack through her body. She sobs into her pillow, the pain searing through her body as the tears stain her cheeks.

She hates this, she hates not knowing why she’s so upset, she hates everything to do with her bad days. She wishes she was able to ask for the help she needs but she’s so much of a people pleaser, she can’t bear the thought of not being there for her friends when they need her. 

A soft knock at her bedroom door jolts her gently from her thoughts. She quickly tries to wipe her face from any tears and snot streaks before telling the person to come on. Her door squeaks softly as it opens and his face appears in the small space. 

As he walks into her small bedroom, he smiles sadly at her in which she returns the favor. Her eyes light up just a bit when she spots the brown takeout bag with her favorite Mexican restaurant logo printed onto the cheap plastic. He leans down and kisses her forehead before sitting down on her bed gently and placing the bag next to him. 

“Hi” she whispers and he smiles 

“Hi, feelin’ any better?” He says and she nods 

“Not really, thank you for uh coming over” she says as she leans her head on his shoulder.

He hums softly as he wraps one arm around her shoulder and squeezes once. 

“Y’know m’always gonna come. You don’t have to thank me. Wanna talk about it?” He asks gently and she shakes her head lightly.

“Not much to talk about, dunno why it happens. I just get really sad out of nowhere.” She closes her eyes gently as she relaxes into his hold. 

He nods in response and they sit in silence for a couple minutes before he reaches over to the bag and holds it out to her. 

“Here, you should eat it before it gets cold.” She smiles in response as he nudges her hand with the bag. She thanks him quietly as she grabs the bag from him, smiling bashfully she begins to open the bag and the styrofoam box inside. 

As she eats in silence, she’s not able to eat as much as she normally would. She takes a couple decent sized bites before she begins to move the food around. 

“M’gonna put this in the fridge, I’ll be back.” He says quietly as he makes a way to grab the box, she sighs softly before looking at him. 

“Sorry..” he shakes his head in return.

“Don’t be sorry lovie. M’proud of you for eating as much as you did.” He says before walking out and setting the box in the fridge before walking back to her room. 

As he comes back into her room, he hums a soft song as he makes his way to her bed and wraps his arms around her, squeezing tightly. He kisses the top of her head before whispering into her ear. 

“M’so sorry you’re feelin’ like this lovie. But you’re not alone okay? You have so many people who care for you and love you.” He can hear her sniffle softly and be squeezes her once. 

“Not your fault Haz. I know I’m not alone but I don’t wanna burden anyone.” She says and he shakes his head.

“You’re never gonna be a burden. We want you to be happy, be okay, we want you to not have to suffer alone. All of us worry about you, it’s okay to ask for help, angel. We’re not gonna judge you.” Her quiet tears slowly become louder as he speaks, she shakes her head and he rubs her back.

“It’s okay not to be okay. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to be in pain. It’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to accept the love you give out, angel. You give and give and give to everyone else, and I know you don’t give yourself the love and energy you deserve.. let us love you how you love us, let us help you. Let us care for you. We’re not gonna judge you sweet girl.” He says and she grabs his t-shirt tightly before sobbing into his chest. 

She can feel the tears streaming down her cheeks and wetting his shirt as she cries into him. She can’t find it to be embarrassed at how loud she’s being and how she looks, not with his hand rubbing small circles on her back and how his words have sparked a sense of warmth in her stomach. She can feel it fluttering throughout her body while he whispers all these soft and sweet words in her ear. 

She can’t remember how long she’s been crying, and she goes to move away from him and he stops her. 

“Y’okay now? You don’t have to move if you’re not ready yet.” She nods before scooting closer to him, their thighs mashed together and her head resting on his shoulder as he rubs her shoulders softly. 

They stay like that, sitting in the comfortable silence for a while before she yawns softly and catches his attention. 

“Y’tired?” He asks and she nods 

“Sorry you spent your day with a crying mess.” She says with a sad chuckle.

“You’re my best friend Y/N. I’d gladly spend however long with you no matter if you’re sad or happy. As long as you’re okay, I’m happy. Want me to stay with you tonight?” He asks and she shakes her head. 

“Uh uh, go have fun with your other friends. I think I’m okay now. Thank you for everything H.” She says as she squeezes him softly before moving to the head of her bed and getting under the covers. 

“Text or call me if y’need anything angel. I mean it.” He says and goes to tuck her in, resulting is a soft giggle to breeze past her lips.

“Okay, dad. I love you.” She says a smile playing on her lips as he leans forward and kisses her forehead.

“I love you sweet girl. Sleep well and have sweet dreams.”

[3amfanfiction]

Simon Finds A Toy pt 3

Summary: Ghost takes you out on another one of his murder trips. Why does he think you're going to run away this time? What does he have planned? Part 3 of Simon Finds a Toy.

First | Previous

wc: 2.9k

content warnings/tags: slight gore, stockholm syndrome. banner by @/cafekitsune

Inspired by this ask from nonnie. I went a little different than requested but I hope you still like it!

"What's that?" you questioned, looking at the thick bracelet with trepidation. Simon didn't say anything as he stepped closer, dropping to a knee to pull up your pant leg. When you tried to pull your foot back he gripped your ankle tighter.

"Settle, pet."

Wrapping it around your limb, he latched it closed with a snick before sliding a finger between the band and your skin, checking it's tightness. Pleased with what he saw he stood, towering over you once more.

"There's no getting that off, not without the key," he looked down at you with a steady expression, "it'll tell me exactly where you are so don't think you can go wandering off."

A tracking device? Why did he feel the need to put a tracker on you? Hadn't you proven by now that you have no intention of running off? This didn't make any sense. You'd even gone into town with him before. Multiple times and never thought about running away.

Well—maybe thought about it, but not seriously.

Looking into the frightened face of a young man, you suddenly understood the reason for the ankle monitor.

When Simon had pulled down his mask in the truck after stubbing out his last cigarette, you assumed this would be like the times before. He would direct you to where he wanted you to stand, normally outside the back or side door, and then he'd go on his way.

What you weren't expecting was for him to lead you inside the factory and disappear right as you turned a corner, bumping into a group of self-proclaimed ghost hunters. The screaming between you and the other four was earsplitting.

That had been hours ago, back when everyone was still alive and hadn't spent the night being hunted by Ghost. You almost wanted to make a joke about it. About how they were looking for ghosts and they found one, why weren't they happier? But that would be in poor taste. Especially considering the guy in front of you was the last one alive out of his group.

He hadn't cottoned onto the fact that you weren't nearly as banged up as the rest of them had been. Probably because you were liberally coated in blood. It was smeared all along the side of your face, into your hair and down one side of your body. Courtesy of Ghost slamming you into a puddle of the second victim's blood.

When you'd landed on top of the still warm body you had strangled your scream by the skin of your teeth, scrambling off of her quickly to press against the wall, watching the way her eyes seemed to slowly cloud as the time when on, face slack above the blood that was still spreading. She'd had her throat cut and her stomach opened. Looking at her viscera had your own organs squirming in discomfort but with deep breaths you settled.

You'd stumbled across two more bodies, both murdered horribly in unique ways. Was Ghost having fun with this? Was he playing with them like you'd play with food? Killing them cruelly for his own amusement?

The blood had mostly dried in the time you'd been moving through the hallways, unsure if you were looking for Ghost or for the two remaining group members. Your choice was taken from you when you had to duck under the pipe that was swung towards your head from around the corner. You scrambled out of range only to see the youngest of the group, a man named Ren, peak out from around the corner, still holding onto the bar and looking terrified.

"Oh god, I thought you were him," he gasped in a quavery voice, dropping the far end of the pipe onto the ground with a bang. When you didn't say anything he continued worriedly, "You're okay, right? I didn't get you?"

"No, I'm fin—"

"You're bleeding," he interrupted, finally noticing the blood, his face went gray at the sight.

"It's not mine. It was— there was this girl. With a red shirt—?"

Watching as the realization of who's blood was covering you hit him about broke your heart. In that moment you wanted to leave. You wanted to take his hand and sneak past Ghost, get outside and run. You could do it, you knew you could. You knew how he thought, you'd be able to avoid him. This guy in front of you didn't have to die.

You shifted forward a step, mind spinning, already making plans when you felt your pant leg catch on your ankle monitor. Oh. That's right.

He'd planned for this. For any wavering feelings you might have during this little—what? This little experiment? It felt like an experiment, like he was testing you to see what you'd do in increasingly stressful situations. What an asshole.

That seriously limited your options but you weren't ready to give up quite yet. You wouldn't be able to go with him but maybe you could still get him out. You could distract Ghost while Ren snuck out the side. Maybe that would work.

Decision made you hurried to his side, grabbing his free hand to tug him along with you urgently, "We have to go. If we stay here he's going to find us."

Stumbling down the hall, you both hurried quickly through the dark, keeping a watch for any looming shadows. When you reached a crossroads in the mess of connecting passageways you paused, panting slightly, and turned to look at Ren.

"There's a door down that way," you huffed, pointing to the left, "It's a side door so you should be able to sneak out. I'll go the other way and distract him, give you more time to run."

"What? Are you insane, why wouldn't you leave too?"

As you stood there and argued you were acutely aware of the time slipping past. Ren wouldn't listen when you told him that without a distraction neither of you were getting out of there, that you needed to play decoy so he could run.

"Either you come with me or I'm not going," he finally announced, crossing his arms with a mulish look. At this point you were at a loss. You'd already wasted too much time when you hadn't had any extra to spare.

In your rushing panic you made a mistake.

"I know him, he's not going to hurt me. But you can still get out."

Ren froze. It didn't look like he was breathing, he was so still. As soon as the words left you mouth you wished you could stop them. Now you had to watch as his face filled with disgust and betrayal alike.

"What do you mean you know him? You're with that monster?"

"Well, I—"

He took a step back, face an expression of anger and cut you off, "Why are you two doing this? What did we ever do to you?"

"No, it's not like that—"You raised a hand, watching him flinch backwards before planting his feet once more.

"Is this a trap? Did you lead me here to kill me?" He looked around, panic starting to fill him as he swung the pipe through the air as if Ghost was going to materialize out of the dark at any second.

"Ren, if you'd just—"

You ducked under the swing of the pipe, wincing as it clanged against the wall loudly, announcing your presence to everyone. You held your hands up in entreaty, watching the reason slowly drain from his eyes.

You were considering how you were going to get out of there when Ghost appeared behind him like his namesake, stepping out of the shadows as if he had always been there. Looks like Ren had had the right idea with that pipe. Too bad he had changed his focus to you.

You muffled your sigh of relief as soon as you realized it was you making the sound.

It was the work of moments for Ghost to immobilize him, playing dirty and digging his fingers into the stab wound low on Ren's side to make him double over and heave at the pain. You watched it all happen, not doing anything to help either party. The conclusion obvious before the fight even started.

You looked at where Ren was pinned firmly in place, wrapped up in the larger man's arms, unable to do more than thrash helplessly as Ghost stood there looking bored. When he glared at you through tears you had to avoid his gaze.

"Well?" Ghost asked, tone almost bored considering the circumstances. As if this was just another day for him. "Are you ready to try?"

Your blank look up at his mask did nothing but make him chuckle meanly, cruel beneath the bony face plate as he held the squirming, crying man.

"I don't understand what you're asking," you ventured hesitantly, unsure.

"Come now sweetheart, don't play stupid. I made sure to show you a couple of different cuts you could use on the meat, did any of them pique your interest?"

That was the reason for the strange ways the first three had died? He was showing off for you? Giving you examples?

Your throat clicked as you swallowed dryly, putting the warm feeling of someone thinking about you and giving you a gift off the the side to be examined never if you had your way.

You were still avoiding Rens accusatory gaze so what's one more thing to ignore.

"Well, sweetheart? We don't have all night."

What was he actually asking? Was there a trick somewhere in there for you? Something that if you were clever enough would get you out of this situation? He had never been that kind before but maybe this was the first.

No. Ghost would twist the knife as he pulled it out, just to make sure you felt it.

Ren's gaze was angry and afraid over the seal of Ghost's hand covering his mouth as you stood there in bewilderment, trying to find a way out of this mess. His eyes blamed you for all his misfortune because it was safer than blaming Ghost.

You stopped looking at his eyes all together.

At this point you had to see him as a non-entity. He was going to die. There wasn't a way out of that, Ghost had him in his grip and he wouldn't be leaving this factory. The morning light was going to find his body no matter what.

So what were you really choosing?

If his death was a forgone conclusion then you must be deciding on how he would die. If it would be by Ghost or yourself.

On one hand you wanted nothing to do with this. You didn't want to kill this man who was crying even as he was glaring. His eyes were puffy and there was snot running down to puddle on Ghost's glove. He looked distressingly human.

He was a man who had just lost three friends and was about to die himself. The one who wouldn't leave you there alone, who insisted that you come with. He was shaking in Ghost's hold and you wanted to plug your ears, close your eyes and wait for this to all be over.

You could see yourself in him—the shaking fox in the maw of a dog.

On the other hand, why were you still policing yourself?

No matter your actions, the outcome would be the same. You and Ghost would be walking out of here and leaving four bodies cooling on the concrete.

He was going to die either way and Ghost would certainly be mean about it. With how he had 'shown off' with the others you were positive he would do worse with Ren. Not only because you were watching but also because that would mean you'd declined his offer. Returned his gift.

So wasn't the more humane thing to do to avoid Ren's suffering? Ensuring a clean death so he could die with some sort of dignity intact, whatever dignity there could be in death?

If you had the choice you know you would choose . . . well.

At this point you would choose Ghost if you were to be killed. He had crawled his way under your skin, wrapped around bone and muscle alike and wove himself between each nerve. He was in your lungs, blood and brain and you wouldn't be able to excise him without removing a part of yourself too.

You hated him for it in some ways. As infected as you were, was there any hope in saving yourself? Or were you fighting against a riptide, doing nothing but tiring yourself out, passing time before you were swallowed by the sea?

Were you still censuring yourself, even in your mind? You knew, deep down, that you didn't care about this man and you didn't care how he lived or died when it really came down to it.

Mentally, if you took a step to the left, you wouldn't see him as anything more than a speed bump to be gone over. You didn't know him, didn't care about him. He was no better than a stranger on the street.

And who was going to judge you? Ghost, whose hands already dripped with blood, so saturated that they would never dry? He would be as delightfully pleased with choice, even if his face wouldn't show it. Ren was the only other one here and he wouldn't be for very long.

You thought back to the fox, little heart pittering in it's chest as it died slowly. Dog's teeth flecked with blood as he watched you. Which were you? Which did you want to be?

Looking between Ghost and Ren you realized there was only one choice you could make.

///

The ride back to the cabin was spent with you silent and shaking. You weren't able to get inside fast enough—away from Simon fast enough.

You threw your bag forcefully onto the kitchen table, continuing to rush past it and ignoring Simon shutting the front door behind you.

"What's all this then?" he asked with a frown, watching as your bag wobbled at the edge of the table before finally settling. He set his down much more calmly, as if to show you how to do it.

You hated him. You hated him.

You watched it all play out in your minds eye. How you would get revenge. You would walk up to him, pull the knife from his belt and slide it between his ribs. He wouldn't be expecting it from you, not anymore. You could do it. The world would be a better place if you did.

You could see how the blood would bubble with each breath. Thick and red. How the scent of copper would flood the room, leaving a film in your mouth that you would taste behind your teeth for ages. How the warmth would coat your skin before slowly cooling and becoming tacky.

You realized where your thoughts were focusing, proof again of how he had infected your brain. You were never going to get away from him, were you? Even if you left, if you never saw him again, he would still be there. Still floating in the back of your mind, waiting for a time to step forward.

Why? Why why why why?

"Why did you do this to me?" you finally screamed at him, tears of anger and helplessness running down your cheeks. Why had he made you like this? This thing that you weren't sure was completely human anymore. The rot setting in too far.

"And what did I do to you?" he sounded condescending, as if he was humoring your temper tantrum, riding it out until you were reasonable once more. "Took you away from your boring life, from early hours and late nights at your job? Took you away from being alone every night, laying in bed and playing on your phone? Go ahead, tell me what I did to you."

"You made me like you!"

"And that's so bad is it? Tell me, what part does Your Majesty take offense to?" You wanted to dig your fingers into his eyes as he mocked you.

"You made me kill him!"

"I didn't make you do anything sweetheart. I gave you the opportunity. You're the one who grabbed it with both hands."

He was lying. He was lying. The only reason you killed Ren was stop Ghost from doing it. From playing with him like he always did. You were trying to keep him from hurting. You wanted it to be painless.

"That's not what happened and you know it."

"Go ahead then, tell me. If you didn't do it then who did? Who slid that knife across his throat until he choked on his own blood? There wasn't a goddamn tear in your eye when you opened him from ear to ear." Simon stalked forward to lean close, filling your vision as he put his face right into yours.

"You liked it."

Slap

He didn't move, not as your hand made contact with his face or as it was pulled away. A quick blink was all the response you got before he grinned meanly, "Awfully violent, aren't you, pet?"

"You made me into a monster like you."

He looked at you with cold eyes, an expressionless face his mask. Your heart dropped with his parting words. You'd always known in the back of you mind, hadn't you?

"Can't make something that's not already there."

|||

Current Stories || Main Repository

[junebugsarchive]

manager nam x reader ; headcanons ver.

summary: headcanons of manager nam x fem! reader

pairing: manager nam x reader

details: mentions of using contraception . not much of warnings other than that . anon request . all headcanons are my opinion, i'm not forcing you to agree with them! . all dividers used are from @cafekitsune . all pictures used are from pinterest

a/n: i love him i love him i love him i love him when yall see this man i want you to immediately think of me and the im his main im his side im every woman that's in his mind sound because he's my goat oh my fosh 🤑 anyways, enjoy babes! thanks for the ask, this was highkey fun to make.

your no. 1 supporter

this man is the greenest green flag when it comes to support and encouragement

you saw this gorgeous dress on display but not sure if it'll look good on you? "go ahead and buy that dress, you look good in anything." you want to sign up for sewing classes? he's immediately doing extensive research on all the sewing workshops nearby and background-checking all the employees. you're struggling to carry all your shopping bags? he's dropping everything to rush to your side and help you carry them to the car.

date nights. date nights. i can't really envision him going out to expensive restaurants (idk why, i'm sorry), but i feel like he would prefer simpler date nights as well, like just sitting down on the sofa with a box of pizza and face masks bc u insisted, watching some corny rom com movie

this man is rich rich. given his job, there's no way you would ever be short on money. he feels bad because his job doesn't really give him a lot of time to spend with you, but he makes up for it by transferring millions and millions of won into your card every month to spend on clothes, manicures, skincare, whatever you needed

pouting to him because you accidentally spent all the money he had given you? no worries, he'll simply press a kiss to your crown and transfer more money, giving you a little extra "just because".

god i love this man

lives for forehead, hairline, crown kisses bc let's be for real, this man is huge. i'm not exactly sure of his height but let's just assume he's super tall, and you have to be standing on your tiptoes just to be able to kiss him properly

because of this, it would be more convenient for him to press kisses to the top of your head before he rushes off for work

very protective

his years as a mercenary have honed his awareness skills (??), and he's really good at detecting threats to you. for example, there's a man that keeps following you around, and you're not even aware of it, but manager nam's already excusing himself to go beat the guy up - or kill him, it depends on his mood that day.

you don't ever need to worry your pretty little head whenever you're around him, because he's already taken care of every threat in the area before you're even aware of them <3

if he's busy on a mission tho, he'll get a bunch of bodyguards to follow u around bc he's just gentlemanly like that

(borderline overly-protective but you beg to differ)

i feel like he would def be like manager kim and hide his occupation for you.

sure, he did mention lightly that he's a contract bodyguard, which is why he's so rich, but he refused to tell you anything other than that, because in his words he has to "protect the clients' privacy" (he's lying he doesn't mention the part he's also a contract killer / mercenary). i mean, it wasn't exactly a lie, right?

he can't say he's never thought of starting a family with you, but between his busy schedule and the constant threats looming behind his shoulder, he would want to wait until everything settles down before giving you a child. until then, he's very strict on using condoms and ensures you take the pills before and after yall do the deed.

but when you guys do have children, he would be an amazing father to the child, no matter their gender.

as a girl dad, he would definitely dotes on her like he does to you, but he's really strict on ensuring she doesn't end up too bratty and constantly trains her in self defense so that she's capable of protecting herself and her mother from creeps. your daughter would def grow up to be a total hothead and extremely protective of her mother, and insists on having "girls night" and literally kicks her depressed father out of their shared bedroom lol. tbh, manager nam's just a total softie for his family

if he was a boy dad tho, the tables would turn because i feel like he would have really strict training regiments and standards for his son, and they're both fueled by the constant reminder that they need to protect you <3 always fighting for your attention it's almost funny lol. until your son grows up and petty arguments turn into full-blown fights that leave you fuming and refusing to talk to them for days because they broke your favourite vase

in conclusion, manager nam is a total simp that would bend over backwards just for you. if he respects and admires manager kim, he 100% worships and adores you with all his heart. every day you spend with him feels like a dream <3

10/10, total green flag that would do anything to keep you happy. as long as he sees you smiling lovingly at him, he's happy.

[bittersweetsthff]

read more fics since this last post and i have MORE goodies!! links below the cut :3

between death and damnation by quillifer

rated m. warning for major character death.

“Why are you always busy on Thursdays? You never used to be busy on Thursdays.” “I have a new standing appointment,” Ivan says, declining to elaborate.

Apparently, Ivan is dying. Till does not handle this news well.

reconstructive memory by yamscooper

rated m. post-round till is with the rebellion but everything is still wrong.

“I thought I told you to cheer up,” Ivan says. His hair’s shorter than it was in Till’s last memory of him. Shinier, well-styled. He’s wearing black. He’s lost some muscle, but his grin’s the same. A little showy, a little fake. Definitely condescending. He looks healthy for a ghost. He looks like he wasn’t shot four times. “You’re not a very good listener, are you?” Till’s throat closes up. “Ivan,” he rasps.

Ivan comes back after Round 6, with a few changes.

the knife i turn inside myself by calmthestorms

rated t. my favourite toxic straight couple! warning for major character death.

She’s bent over him, frozen, hardly breathing. Luka takes the opportunity to look at her—really look at her, committing her to memory. He wants to remember her wherever he goes after he dies. If he can’t have her in this life, maybe he can in another. “Don’t let go,” he pleads, soft and fervent as a prayer. “Hold me when I die. Please.” Hyuna turns her face away for a long moment, shoulders shaking as she breathes. Luka knows this motion, long-remembered from childhood. He tugs on a strand of hair, pulls her face back to his. “Don’t cry,” Luka whispers.

When Hyuna comes to kill him, Luka is already waiting.

shadow on the tile by GallifreyanFairytale

rated t. a luka character study (i think he's growing on me)

Hyuna takes his wrist in her hand, fingers circling around it completely, pressing hard enough to bruise. “I’ll break it,” she threatens. Luka laughs. It bubbles up in his throat and spills through his lips without his consent, a stream of giggles, as tears prick at the corners of his eyes. It’s hilarious. Snap his wrist, and he’ll finally have a distraction from the pain splitting his skull. He’ll finally have something else to think about, and an excuse to miss classes for a day, and a good enough reason to have painkillers pumped into his veins until everything is completely, blissfully, numb. “Do it,” he begs. “Hyuna, do it.”

on luka, migraines, and perfection.

a breath of fall by oceans_bluem

rated g. pre-round 6 ivan and a study of ivansua siblings. warning for major character death.

Sua, he thinks. Sua, will it hurt? Ivan is long past the moment for doubt. As soon as he saw his name matched against Till’s for Round Six, he knew what he would have to do. More than that, he’s long outgrown unnecessary questions. But some part of him is still the boy who flinched from pain before he learned to bite his tongue through it and craft his face into an expressionless mask. So he asks the only other person who knows what he is going through: Sua, he thinks again, will it hurt? Sua, of course, does not answer.

Or, Ivan prepares for Round 6.

not even in another eternity will you stop your lovely orbiting by quillifer

rated m. till through several time loops.

“What if I told you that you had a chance to do it all over again? You wouldn’t be able to change much—the fates don’t play fair—but you could settle at least one of your regrets. Would you take it?” Till knows better than to gamble; the risks almost always outweigh the benefits. Still, it sounded like Sua was speaking from experience. “Did you—” “I can’t answer any of your questions,” Sua says, cutting him off with haste. “Yes or no, Till?” Till swallows, staring at her outstretched hand.

déjà vu by quillifer

rated t. reincarnated ivti strangers :)

Truthfully, Ivan thought this kind of disease was the stuff of urban legend. He takes himself to the emergency room, unwilling to risk undue escalation. His vitals are fine. A doctor assures him that his lungs haven’t been taken over. “It would be in your best interests to confess, young man. Heartbreak is temporary. Organ damage is permanent.” There’s only one problem: Ivan isn’t in love with anyone.

thistlewood by quillifer

rated t. modern au till takes in a feral ivan

“You bite me, scarf down my food, then you have the gall to beg for more?” Ivan isn’t familiar enough with tonal nuance to understand that the other boy is being purposefully melodramatic. “Can you talk at all?” He tries a few more questions, none of which beget a response. After a beat, he picks a rock up off the ground. The gesture has Ivan growling, hackles raised, but he hurriedly throws it into the distance. Ivan listens to it rattle until it’s gone. Presumably, the kid can hear just fine. Heaving a sigh, he points to his chest. “I’m Till. Okay? Till. Who are you?” Ivan holds out his wrist. That’s answer enough, Till supposes.

reverse psychology by quinnpriv1

rated e. stalker till.

Till starts jotting down information in a notebook because his brain is scrambled at the best of times. If Ivan ever goes missing thanks to some rabid ex or a girl who’s pissed off because Ivan won’t date her, he needs to know what to tell the authorities. The notebook expands tremendously from humble beginnings. Tall. Dark-haired. Handsome. Broad-shouldered. Uneven smile, morphs into, Six-foot-one, twenty-six years old, something along the lines of a finance specialist, left-handed, Ferragamo moccasins polished to a shine, amongst a dozen other paltry details. He’s aware enough to acknowledge that he has an interest in Ivan—but he wouldn’t consider himself interested, not romantically. Ivan isn’t his type. Greasy corporate bastard with a wicked tongue? Nothing but trouble. And yet.

Hi hello! do you have any alien stage fic recs??

i most definitely do!!!

I've only read ivantill until now (cus the brainrot is real) so that's what I'll share here but once I'm done scouring the mizisua tag, I'll definitely return!

links below the cut <3

from ashes by petitfives

vampire till and vampire ivan. ivan is deranged and till suffers per usual. rating: explicit

"This is the face of the dog who has killed so many of my fledglings,” Urak says, snapping Till out of his reverie. “Remember it. It might be the last thing you see.” Till has never liked Ivan more than he does right now. Good, he thinks, as viciously as he can. He doesn’t think his prayers carry any weight, but he stares hard at the saint wearing Ivan’s face and hopes Ivan puts a stake through Urak’s unbeating heart. Or, Till gets turned by a vampire, and Ivan is a vampire hunter.

the silhouette in my peripherals by Anonymous

till in the aftermath of r6. rating: explicit

Ivan is gone, but he is still there. Or: how to haunt a person.

till death do us part (so why are you before me again?) by Aminori

ivan and till reuniting in the afterlife. <3 rating: teen

When Ivan had held his beloved’s throat, felt the pulse of life as his own ended, he had expected to not see Till again. … He had expected Till to live on. Had selfishly wanted it, in fact. But here his beloved was, in his arms, in a place that they were never meant to be reunited in.

And he wasn’t quite sure what to feel, anymore.

(or: Ivan dies. He didn’t expect to see Till again, but he did.)

break a heart, stitch it right back by yamscooper

till being jealous. rating: teen

If Ivan wants to laugh and giggle and twirl his hair at some girl Till has never met before, that’s none of Till’s fucking business. “I don’t think Ivan’s hair is long enough to twirl,” Mizi says. “It’s a figure of speech,” Till bites out.

a certain ivantill fan's origin story by gustavo

somehow luka becomes the #1 ivantill fan. rating: teen

Over the course of his preparation for the much-anticipated Final Round of the hit dystopian drama, Alien Stage, Luka discovers that he might be a lot more invested in his best friend’s love life than he’d expected himself to be. or: the fic where luka somehow becomes an ivantill truther.

breathe again in the world anew by aerivel

more ivantill reunions after r7. rating: teen

Till and Ivan reunite one more time. - “I can’t say I’m not disappointed.” The sound of a deep, gentle voice cutting through the air startles Till enough to bang his head against the tree behind him. Wincing slightly, he sits up and jerks his head to the slowly approaching man in white. “I thought you would win after all,” the man continues, slowing until he stood a few feet away. The man’s attention is stolen by the fluttering of a crimson flower inches away from his foot. Absently, he shifts his shoe and crushes the petals beneath him. It’s enough to spark something within Till. Ivan. It’s Ivan.

your shadow on the wall of my room by ephemeroptera_insecta

ghost ivan haunts till. rating: teen

Till won Round 6. He had his first kiss. He’s one step closer to winning. He’s also, notably, now being haunted. Or : Ivan comes back as a ghost. Till realizes what Ivan has done for him, and the feelings he buried for him out of fear. They navigate life (and death) as a man and his ghost.

what we’re allowed to do to each other’s faces by fakekniferealketchup

ivan lives and till escapes. rating: teen

When Ivan had died, the lens through which Till saw the world had fractured, rearranged, and stuck that way, like a broken bone that wasn’t set. A bleeding kaleidoscope of the past. A dozen years of memories clamored for fresh attention, to be reexamined, to be cut open so they could show off all the terrible wriggling things that had wormed around inside them and eaten them hollow. He couldn’t think of the garden, anymore; only of how stupid he had been. — - — Ivan lives; Till escapes the arena. There's no elegance in their reunion, but there is spit, and blood, and something close to forgiveness.

[dismas-n-dismay]

I'm not fucking joking when I tell you I saw this panel and literally started sobbing and crying over seeing my babygirl buying chocolate with just fucking quarters. This is the people's jason todd for real, thank you Juni Ba

[starrysharks]

reassassination's resident yuri devil

[tonycries]

Golden Boy - G.S.

Synopsis. Falling right back in love with the cult leader you’re supposed to kíll? Happens more often than you’d think.

Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader 

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, friends/lovers to enemies to lovers, oral (fem receiving), facesítting, creampíe, slight Gojo x Reader, running away from it, Suguru is so SOOO in love still, unprotected, spítting, kinda angsty, hurt/comfort, mentions of bIood and kníves, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.4k

A/N. I was listening to fantasmas while writing this so take that how you will LMAO.

The difficult part, surprisingly, wasn’t infiltrating Geto Suguru’s Time Vessel Association. No, a few faux tears, a decoy curse, and you were in - stepping through his grandiose hideout. The difficult part was convincing yourself that you were here to kill him. 

Something that utterly foolish little part of yourself still had trouble believing - even when you had a knife to his throat. 

“Any last words?” you spit, muffled through your mask, thankful for the way it covers up just how much your voice shakes. Maybe because of the way his lips curl into a familiar smile, maybe from his cool dagger pressing against the back of your neck.

Seconds away from a bloodbath. 

You don’t know if you’re breathing - or if he is either. Eyes locked on the way Sugur- your target only raises his hand up, up, up - getting ready to strike. To kill. Only you’d get him first and-

Snip!

You’re not dead. But you might as well have been, because your mask falls onto the tatami mat with a deafening clatter. 

“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.”

It’s hard not to remember. 

“You don’t have any right to say that.” your knees tighten around where you had him straddled to the ground. Your hand pinning one of his down, blade digging deeper into Suguru’s pale neck - eyeing the slow, steady drop of blood that beads down it. “Didn’t think you’d remember me, either.”

With your mask now no longer on your face, you could traitorously take in that relaxed grin - as if your life wasn’t in his hands right now. As if he didn’t care. 

Suguru’s hair was much longer now, splayed out across the floor inkily. Circling around his broad shoulders, around the eyes that were just a bit harder than they were ten years ago. And yet, you catch the way they flicker briefly with something so raw as he whispers gently, “How could I ever forget my first love?”

So quiet that you could’ve blamed it on your imagination - and you wish you did. 

It’s so unfair. 

Unfair how you let out a gasp, despite yourself. Unfair how you were the best sword wielder that Jujutsu had to offer, yet your fingers tremble on your knife. Heart stuttering at the mere sight of the way his eyes crinkle with the beginnings of a smile. Pleading, like all he could see was you from what felt like a thousand lifetimes ago. 

Those golden years. Back when rare Susanoomon cards were what you’d fight over, and the only stains he’d wipe off were from the grassy grounds of Jujutsu High, still faint underneath the encrusted blood on that uniform nestled away deep in his wardrobe.

You manage to grit out, “Shut up. You left me- us.”

“I did.”

Like it was all he wanted to see. 

“You never loved me.”

“I do.”

Your voice is shrill at this point, words stumbling over each other. “You’ve massacred more people than you’ve saved.”

Suguru wastes no time denying - or in any niceties. Looking right into your absolutely crazed eyes as he answers, “I have.” And his answer rings so hollow and emotionless in your ears, cold-blooded. Absolutely nothing like the boy you remembered. The one that would laugh and steal you away to take you around campus on his bicycle, all because the next class was “too far”.

“I- fuck.” You place both hands on the hilt of your blade, distantly registering the way that Suguru lets his own drop onto the floor. “I should kill you- I should kill you right now.”

Just one flick of your wrist. Fast and simple. 

In and out - exactly like you’d been ordered to. 

“And to die by your hand would be a death that someone like me doesn’t deserve.”

You both jolt when your knife hits the ground - as if neither of you were expecting it. And before you can stop yourself, you’re fisting his thick robes, pulling Suguru’s face up closer to yours. Mere inches away. 

“Then- then I’ll-” you choke, a hand coming up to dig into the sides of his milky neck, leaving neat, red indents on his skin. “I’ll kill you with my own hands, Suguru.”

And he’s known you for years - would never admit it, but was by your side for only half as long as he’d watched over you. 

Saw - only from a distance -  those big fat tears you cried at graduation, the curve of your lips as you pulled a very reluctant Nanami into a hug outside his new office building. The steely look in your eyes meeting Satoru’s much softer one, telling him first how you’re going into teaching. And the smile on your face when you thought of who else might have, too. If he’d gotten the chance.

Always hidden.

Never so close to this frenzied glint in your gaze, a tiny sob threatening to escape your lips. Never like this - and yet, he never thinks you’ve looked so beautiful. 

But what would someone like him know about beauty, anyway?

You flinch as Suguru reaches a hand up to thumb away the furrow between your brows, catching on the single, stray tear sitting at your cheekbone. Whispering - so low that you involuntarily crane your head closer to hear - “Still such a crybaby.”

“And you’re still going to be the death of me.”

Soft - Suguru’s lips are as soft as you imagined. And it’s not exactly the tender, picture-perfectly romantic first kiss his teenage self dreamt up with you, but fuck if he wasn’t going to remember this like it was. 

Perfect. 

Pretty lips smothering yours, all slow and sensual. Drinking in those deliciously breathless gasps of yours as he sucks on your candied lips. 

You gasp, “Suguru.” and it comes out teary. Making you finally register the wetness rolling down your cheeks, glistening against the dim lighting. You tighten your grip around his neck, “This won’t fix-”

“I know.” Fuck, does he know better than anyone else. 

A hand slides up your forearm, the other cupping your face to pull you closer. He’s running his hot tongue along your cheek, pooling your salty tears on his lips. “But let me make you forget - if just for tonight. Please.”

The only answer Suguru gets is your fingers leaving his neck, dancing feather-light across his sculpted shoulders to slide under his robe. Feeling the smooth plane of his pecs underneath your palm, that traitorously thundering heartbeat he wishes he could slow down. “Kiss me.”

“Fuck.” he pants into your open mouth. The sight of your glossy, slightly puffy lips having him surge forward to reattach his with yours with a pained grunt. “God- jus’ a bit more, my love.”

Again. And again and again- like he was addicted. 

He’d always been, with you, anyway.

You let out a sinful sound of his name when Suguru kisses down your neck, lips slotting over your racing pulse. Throbbing and so real under his lips, remembering how he used to feel this song under his arms long before. 

“Oh- shit.” you moan, when his now rougher - larger - hands sneak underneath your crumpled shirt, deftly unbuttoning. Unbuckling. Impatient. “Sugu-”

A hoarse groan leaves him, only spurring him to all but rip the rest of your uniform off your body faster. 

And at the first sight of you clad in nothing but your panties, Suguru’s kiss-bitten lips are falling slack. Brows shooting up into the dark strands of hair sticking to his forehead now, “Been missing out, hm?” He’s dipping a hand down to run the back of his index along your clothed, puffy folds. Up and down. “Really been-” Heart clenching when he remembers the way Satoru now looks at you with a familiar glint. One he knew all too well. “-missing out, my love.”

You’re only trailing your fingers along his cheek - his neck, grazing over that little mark from your blade. He groans - maybe from your touch, probably from the way you’re dragging your cunt across that massive bulge underneath you. “Please, Suguru. Wan’ you.” 

And if Geto Suguru has spent ten years denying himself, surely he could sacrifice it for the way he lifts your stuttering, sloppy hips up so easily. All the way up until they were hovering over his mouth, hot breath hitting your clothed cunt. 

“Wanna taste you.” he groans, spying on the way your slick beads through your panties. “Wan’ see if you’re as hah- sweet as I imagined. Please.”

And he’s obsessed with the way you’re sinking yourself down so gently, cock jumping at the thought of you afraid you’d suffocate him - as if you didn’t have your blade at his throat just minutes ago.

“Fuuuck, don’t worry, pretty.” he groans, soft darting to lick at the juices smeared across your inner thighs. “Some more now. Put it all on me, I can take it- fuck-”

Your syrupy sweet cunt has Geto losing whatever’s left of his fucking restraint, dark eyes rolling to the back of his head because you were so sweet. So pretty looking down at him with your glassy eyes. So addictive. He moans, chest heaving as he breathes in your essence. “What happened to that feist from earlier? Gonna hafta do a lil’ more than that now.”

“B-but-”

It’s at this moment you realize that at any given moment Suguru could’ve easily taken the upper hand. A hand of his pulls down your hesitant hips, swollen lips against your covered ones in such a filthy kiss. 

He hums into your folds, bunching your panties between them. “Mmm. Shit- jus’ like I imagined.” Hot tongue dipping just underneath the flimsy fabric to feel out your sloppy entrance, “Better, even. Jus’ look how well you’re taking me, pretty.”

But you don’t - too scared to find out that you’d like the sight more than you should. How you wished you could go back to the golden days where it didn’t matter - wasn’t a matter of life and death. And something else entirely. 

And this dilemma has Suguru’s brows furrowing, sharp canines lightly nipping at one of your swollen folds. Wanting to see how it’s him - despite everything, it’s still him making you feel this way. “None of that now.”

RIP!

With this you have to look down, a desperate whine leaving your stupid mouth at the fucking sinful sight down below. Your panties now a tattered excuse in between Suguru’s teeth, baring them with such a devilish grin right up at you. 

“See?” he spits out the fabric onto the floor beside him, half-lidded eyes peering up at you so sultry. Looking right at you as his tongue lolls out, spreading your bare, needy folds shamefully. “Isn’t this much better?”

“Hngh- fuck, yes-” you slide your fingers through his now-messy hair, falling out of that half-bun. Jolting on top with each push of his tongue past that feeble ring of resistance, the lewd squelches leaving you with each graze of the wet muscle against your walls. “Shit- Suguru it feels too good. So deep ngh-”

He swats a hand against your ass, making you sit your slutty hips down deeper, all the way till Suguru’s jaw was grinding so greedily against your cunt. Tongue bullying past your folds in and out in and out in and-

“God- hah-” he’s pulling away to gasp deep lungfuls of air - secondary, to the way he was back immediately to making out so hotly with your tight pussy. “Mmm fuck. This cute lil cunt is so needy. S’like you’re trynna suck my tongue off.” Thumb reaching up to draw slow, languid circles that have you throwing your head back. “So perfect.”

Your delirious mouth is dropping open, body moving before your mind as you strain to reach your hand behind. Trembling. Shaky when you manage to cup Suguru’s aching erection. 

“G-guess m’not the only one ah- needy, hm?” you smirk, having him bucking and spitting out harsh little profanities with each rub of your palm down his drenched length. 

Suguru doesn’t give you a response - because his fingers are speaking on his behalf. Dipping into your sloppy hole, locating your g-spot, as if on instinct. He’s milking your pretty cunt while he roams for those sweet spots. Lips muffling around your throbbing clit, “You’re always right, my love. You always were.”

And his words are so gentle - mouth so sloppy. Squelches so obscene. 

Nose pressing up at the top of your abdomen, cheeks hollowing wetly around the sensitive nub. Letting your juices drip all the way down his chin, his jaw, dangerously close to that cut on his neck. 

The hand sliding back and forth across the swollen outline of his cock had Suguru get more frenzied. Faster. Like it was his personal mission to make you cum on his tongue before he fucking passed out. 

Penetrating your gummy hole with both his fingers and his tongue, spreading it open more. And it’s all you can do to keen, “Oh- oh my god.” Riding Suguru’s pretty face harder. “Shit- m’close, Suguru.”

“Always right.” he gasps, swiping his tongue faster across your clit. “Always perfect” Alternating between squeezing back into your hole, your sweet spots. Stretching out your gummy walls as far as they’d go. “Always made f’me.” Assaulting it with both his fingers and his tongue. Again. And again and again and- “Jus’ wish I got to have you sooner.”

His words make you snap your eyes up from his mean mouth to meet his gaze, devouring you as greedily and depraved as his tongue. They make your thighs burn with the effort to drag your sloppy pussy faster.

They make you cum - shaking, crying out little mewls of “Ngh- fuck. M’cumming m’cumming m’cumming.”

The way your voice is breaking at the end of each moan has Suguru’s cock straining so painfully against his trousers. One hand firmly on your waist, arching you deeper to tongue you through your high in ways he’s only ever dared to imagine. 

Ways he’s selfishly hoped only he could - even after all these years, the sight of any other man looking at you wrong having his irritation flaring. 

“S’right.” his voice is sending stars bursting behind your lids, tongue even worse. Having you pleading and so sensitive. “I got you, my love. Give it t’me.” Messy - not as forgiving as he’d like to be. “Give it alllll to me.”

And you do - all but smothering Suguru’s eager tongue with all your sweet juices. Ones he’s lapping up happily, tilting his head back as far as it’d go on the floor, letting your heady slick fill up his throat. His pussydrunk lips let out a hiss, both at the burn of that cut on his neck, and the way you’re desperately pulling your hips back. 

Too overstimulated. Too fucking sensitive. Too much - but it would never be enough for Suguru. 

“Please, Suguru.” you sob at the way your limp hips are being pulled back by a needy Suguru. “M’too sensitive. I- fuck-” He’s only lapping at your quivering cunt leisurely, smirk prominent against your swollen folds. 

And it’s all you can do to deliriously slip a hand underneath his robes, a desperate attempt to keep whatever shred of sanity you have left. Fingers feeling down his unfairly toned abs, the tufts of hair at his pelvis, reaching-

“Oh fuck!” Your heavy eyes admire the way Suguru arches into your touch in surprise - like he couldn’t help himself. Eyes flying open, glossy, plump lips curling into a disbelieving grin, “Ya really are made f’me, huh?” 

That’s all it takes for Suguru to head to your lewd whims, bruising fingers on your hips finally loosening to let you sit your sloppy cunt back down on his lap - except, this time, you were seated directly on his rock-hard cock. Pussy lips spreading around his length to just soak him. 

“Oh, my love.” He sits up, splaying you out so prettily on his lap. “How I’ve missed you.”

You don’t even register the way you’re raising your head up to meet Suguru’s - not until he spits. Once. Twice. Straight onto your awaiting tongue that you didn’t even realize you were sticking out, saccharine sweet saliva making such a mess when he’s crashing his lips into yours. 

“Yeahh, like that. Kiss me like that.” he slurs against your mouth, drunk off both sets of your sweet lips. Getting out through wet, sloppy pecks. “How I wish I had you sooner.”

You can feel your heart thumping so wildly against your ribcage, matching the needy, needy staccato of Suguru’s cock throbbing between your puffy folds. And, well, you really can’t be blamed for the way you break the kiss to look down and oh-

Oh Suguru notices that furrow between your brows, kissing away the nervous little wobble in your lower lips as he grunts, “God, you’re killin’ me.” 

Fuck. Killing him?

You were the one sent in for the kill, but it seems you won’t be making it out here alive. 

Because Suguru was so big, girth rubbing up against your thighs. So angry and heavy, smearing hot precum over his abs, your cunt, adding to add to the absolute mess. Long enough that you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk out of here - which, honestly, Suguru would’ve preferred. To keep you with him forever. 

To have you always mewling so prettily when he’s dragging his fat head down your sensitive slit. To have his name - and only his name - leave your bruised lips when he’s asking, “Who’s got you this wet?” 

You’re so cockdrunk already that you’re groaning mindlessly, “You- Suguru-”

“No, that’s not what you call me.” 

And it takes you a few, long seconds to understand what he’s saying, all the while trying to focus with the leaky tip being pressed past your swollen folds. Slow. Torturous. Hitting you so violently at the same time he slips past that first, slutty ring of muscle. 

“Sugu!”

A blinding grin splits across Suguru’s absolutely fucked-out face, brows furrowing together in ecstasy. “That’s more hah- like it.” Not having heard that familiar little nickname - one of your many - fall from your lips since high school - one that makes a heart he forgot he had grow five sizes too large. “Now, just take me-” Hips bucking up, so strong and ruthless. “-like I know you can, okay?”

Over and over. 

You can’t let out anything but barely-lucid whines at this point, letting Suguru sink in inch by fucking inch. Your walls stretched out so perfectly to take his sheer size. But the stretch- oh, the stretch.

Fuck, it has you clawing at Suguru’s exposed shoulders, fingers leaving angry, red marks down the muscles. An obscene ah! ah! ah! leaving your lips with each time he reels his hips back, only to bully his aching cock inside until he physically couldn’t.

“Hngh- Sugu, s’too big-” You buck your hips down in shallow, tentative grinds to meet his filthy method of fitting in. “Too- much. Didn’t expect you to be so mean-”

“The sorcerer that hah- held a knife to the infamous Geto Suguru’s neck-” he groans, hands groping your ass to move you further down his massive cock. To watch the way your sloppy entrance was stretching out so much to suck him up. “-can take this too, right? I know you can.” He reaches a deft thumb around to toy with your pretty clit, making your cunt relax like the good girl she is. Fucking up deeper, just a bit more mean. “You- can-”

Several things happen at the tail end of Suguru’s sentence - he’s finally fitting in all in one go. With a calculated, harsh thrust up into your poor cunt, your ass is kissing his heavy balls, pussy rubbing against the hair at his hilt. So full and so much.

And Suguru knows he just might not see heaven - but shit, does he feel like he’s there right now. The feeling so good that both of you letting out mingling gasps of pleasure. 

Your back falling onto the now soiled mats like such animals, the other not far behind.

“You alright, my love?” Suguru hums against your throat when you’re managing to adjust somewhat to the stretch, aware enough to kiss the palm resting protectively underneath your head - making sure you don’t hurt yourself.

You bat your teary lashes, “Never been better, Sugu.”

And something about that makes him remember. 

Remember the way you’d tell him the exact same thing when you fought with curses too strong for you - coming back to the dorms all battered and bruised, but alive. Flashing him that addictive grin, and a crooked thumbs up, “Never been better, Sugu. Gold, actually.”

His golden girl.

Shaking away the tightness at his throat, Suguru instead focuses on wrapping your trembling legs around his toned waist. Tight.

“Sh-shit- you’re milkin’ me so good, fuck-”

Abs burning as he just drags his cock along your plushy walls, keeping your legs held wide open for him. So tight - like you were sucking the fucking soul out of him. Making sure to angle his hips in just the way that’ll have your eyes tearing at the way he was massaging all your sweet spots. 

And sure enough - “O-oh my god-” you breathe, and shit, it was so hard to speak. Suguru’s cock too big, too depraved. Speeding up with every ram of his hips into a steady, mean pace. “Jus’ like that, fuck-”

“Mhm?”

You paw at his free hand settled by the side of your neck, trailing it down, down, down - rings and all - to the part of your stomach you could feel his thick tip hitting. A slight bulge, abusing your cervix over and over, “Here-”

“-s’where I belong.”

Your brows raise at his interjection, and you swipe away the long locks of hair partially covering Suguru’s face, legs tightening around his hips as you take a long, hard look. He repeats, “S’where I belong. Where ngh- you belong.”

Like some deep, dark part of him was trying to fuck out any and every doubt about this out of you - as if you’d have any - Suguru’s rolling his hips harder into yours. All the way until it almost hurt - until the sting of his twitching balls against your ass felt permanent, fingerpads pressing down so hard on your stomach. 

Lips searing against yours, punctuating each word with a jagged, rough thrust. “Because you sh-shouldn’t be ah- here. You shouldn’t be-” He drags you deeper onto his dick like some ragdoll, fingers frenzying on your clit. “-with me.”

Words slurring and as sloppy as his hips now. 

“Wh-why fuck- why wouldn’t I be?”

“Heh, you forgot?” Suguru spits out a chuckle, pushing you further and further up the mat with how bruising his hips were hitting yours. Alternating between marking your cervix - your g-spot - your gummy walls. “Forgot how I told ya to live a better life than this?” Everything and anything. Hips smacking so loud, echoing in symphony with those melancholy words he parted with so long ago. “How I told you to hngh- find a-another? Live a long life? To be happy?”

Now that Suguru was talking, it was like he couldn’t stop. Like a damn had been broken - both with his words and his movements. The curve of his dick drives you wild, veins molding your cunt into their shape. 

Gritting his teeth to hold back the way his drenched balls squeeze so painfully, biting down on your lower lip. “You’re s-supposed to kill me.” A drop of sweat splashing down on your cheek, “To kill me and maybe you’ll be hah- fuck mine in another universe. But not this one.” It’s like he’s out of control now, “Never this one. You can have anybody else.”

And suddenly you’re having a flashback to just a week prior, to an uncharacteristically solemn Satoru telling you words you should’ve been happy to hear. Quiet, and unassuming. Ones you knew that had you heard them before knowing Suguru, you’d have jumped into his arms - exactly how he hoped you would, the day of his departure. 

Chuckling at you being such a “crybaby” about him leaving. After all, this was just meant to be, right?

But no.

Instead, you’re here. Bunching Suguru’s beautiful, glossy hair curtaining the sides of your head, into a ponytail. Difficult - with how he was getting faster. Harder. Just ravaging your hole until you were gaping and breathless.

And yet, arms trembling and limp, you still manage to reveal the boy you fell in love with - the one you could never forget. From the flush on his pretty face, to the twisted, sad curve of his mouth. And the eyes that bore into yours like they were searching for the same thing. Smiling, for the first time since you entered this place, “How could I ever want anyone else, Sugu?”

The hand on your stomach is cupping your adorable face so softly - and it’s hard to believe those hands have killed. Betrayed.

Like they were capable of doing anything but as Suguru swipes the single tear glistening down your cheek, “Still a crybaby, huh, my love?”

And then you cum - and Suguru isn’t too far behind. 

It’s just a flash of hot white, tingles running down your spine - all the way to the thick, creamy base soon forming around his wildly twitching cock. 

And it’s so good. Too good that all you can do it scream out his name, letting him do anything - and you were glad all he did was fuck you so mercilessly through your high. So violent. Addictive. 

Vision blurry, mouth sagging open for Suguru to press intimate little kisses along the corners of your mouth. Whispering sweet praises as your cunt sucks him up so good. So sinfully milking him for everything he’s worth. 

Taking in rope after rope of thick cum that warms your gummy walls from the inside, overfilling just enough for it to dribble down into the mat below in an obscene little pool. Smearing down your thighs, his balls. Heavenly. 

His heaven.

And in the haze of it all, Suguru imagines that you’ll reach for your knife again, press it back against the curve of his exposed neck. He imagines you’ll laugh in his face, tell him what a great whim this was but you had to get back to your job, turning your back on him as he has done before. He imagines.

But what he gets is your strained, fucked-out little voice, “I missed you, my golden boy.”

A/N. Yes, That Line was inspired by HTTYD. If I had to be hurt, y’all do, too. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Tag Team (Deadpool/Wolverine)

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

Warning: Smut

Word Count: 1,773k

Request:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[groovyangelkisses]

Lumberjack ! Logan secretly love being pampered and spoiled by his girlfriend but is too shy to admit it

oh absolutely, honey! 💌

he'll daydream alllll day at the yard about comin' home to you & you running your nails through his hair, scratching and tugging while kissing his cheeks. and he'll blush, too! swinging his axe with the gratifying chop and thinking about his girl waiting for him at home ᯓᡣ𐭩

on days where you needed the pick-up, mainly to run to the farmer's market down the way for dinner, you'll pick him up from the yard. and ohhhh boy the looks logan gets when the other workers see a pretty little thing like you pulling up for him. and logan absolutely eats it up— loves knowing his pretty girl, so loving and doting, bordering obsessed with him, is the object of every mans dreams. if anyone dares to tease him for the sudden pep in his step as he almost jogs to you in the car, the glare they recieve will be deadly before logan shifts his eyeline back to you with a soft smile— only reserved for you <3

everyday when he comes home from work, there's a warm lavendar bath ready, and his favorite soft sweats warm from the dryer. the first time you drew him the bath, he fiddled with the soft pebbles of lavendar asking himself "what the fuck is this?" when you left the room for a moment to grab him a fluffy towel.

he was skeptical of being loved— never too quick to let his guard down. but when he finally sat in the tub? long, tanned limbs relaxing in the warm water that smelled sooo nice & relaxing? his shoulders dropping with content and his eyes fluttering shut? you washing his hair and telling him about your day? "oh god" he prays to himself "never take me away from her, not even for a second, i won't be able to bear it"

and for a more silly approach, you do a sweet little cucumber face mask on logan during the winter months; shelled up in your cozy home as the snow rages on. his eyes peacefully closed as you sit on his tummy, massaging his face gently as he runs his hands up & down your hips and thighs. a sudden knock at the window reveals one of logan's friendly coworkers, coming to drop off the coat logan left at the sight earlier that day.

and this coworker pauses his sentence in mild shock to stare at this 6'2, mean-eyed hairy lumberjack with green fluff on his face and freshly moisturized lips. and all logan can say is "you tell anyone and i'll fuckin' kill you, i swear to god i will" to which you'll turn, all hurt, "you don't like the mask, baby?" and logan'll backtrack so genuinely "no, no baby, i do. 's nice and cooling, like you said. just don't want this shithead thinkin' i'll do anything wild like this for anyone but my girl"

and when his buddy leaves, head falling back in laughter, logan doesn't even find himself caring so much. especially not when you lay him back down, face now clean of the mask, and slooooowly start massaging his biceps.

"love my girl. love my sweet girl. take such good care'a me, pup, 'm so grateful" he'll coo as he starts to fall asleep after a long day's work— completely content, completely in love, only mildly ashamed of how much he needs you :(((

[robo-writing]

Logan with a virgin reader, expecting her to be this shy nervous little thing only to be met with a woman who’s spent too much of her life with only her imagination to keep her company. Suddenly he’s the one nervous because you’re so eager to fuck him and you’re begging him so nicely that it’s hard for him to remember you’ve never actually done this and he has to be responsible. You whine the entire time he’s stretching you out with his fingers, hands grabbing at him and pleading with him to replace his fingers with his cock and god damn it, you’re making it really fucking hard for him to focus.

You’re both bare, losing your clothes somewhere between the living room and the kitchen. The feeling of skin against skin drives you wild, makes you plead for the cock that’s throbbing against your thigh. You know he wants this just as bad as you do, you can feel how bad he wants this, but he settles for spreading you apart on his fingers.

You know you’re testing his patience but you don’t care; not when you grind against him, not when his cock glides against your bare pussy, not when he pins you to the bed as your back arches off it.

“Stop moving,” he begs, over and over. “Stop it, stop—stop fucking moving.”

You’re killing him; every time you look at him with those darling little doe eyes he can feel what little self-restraint he has left crumbling apart, every whine and moan and please Logan, gimme more testing his resolve.

“You need to stop,” he begs, head falling forward as your cunt wets his dick, sliding against his length but refusing to push forward and take you. You shake your head, pull him in for a kiss that’s anything but demure, lust pouring from your tongue as you lick at his mouth.

“Don’t wanna,” you gasp, pulling him closer by his shoulders. Between each kiss you see his control waning, feel his hands bruised your skin, taste the depravity between his teeth. Slowly but surely you see his mask slipping away, a beast in disguise of a man, one that desperately wants to claim you as his.

A sick part of you wants that; to submit yourself, bare your neck against its fangs and beg for more when its teeth pierce your skin. You want to give yourself to Logan—all of him, even the parts that he himself doesn’t want to show you. You want your first time to be just as enjoyable for him as it is for you—which is why you bring his hand to your stomach, to where his dick would leave an outline. You hold his hand firm as he stares with lust-blown eyes just imagining how full of him you’d be, in awe at just how willing you are to submit.

“I can handle it, you whimper, voice sweet like sin. “Fuck me, please.”

And like that, you’re no longer faced with your loving boyfriend. You’re now face to face with the Wolverine.

He pushes inside your velvet walls, still conscious enough to give you a moment to adjust. The feeling is new, full. Your voice wobbles when his thumb reaches down to circle your clit, just enough to get you to relax as he feeds your greedy pussy inch after inch.

“Y’gotta breathe for me baby,” he rasps into the side of your neck, releasing a breath you never knew you were holding. He rewards your obedience with more of his dick, slowly rocking against you as you start to adjust to the feeling.

“Feels good,” you whisper, stroking his hair. Your eyes are locked with his, lost in his pretty emerald eyes. “You can move.”

“Are you sure?” He asks. “Not sure I’ll be able to stop once I do.”

You know he’s telling the truth, it’s written all over his face. A need to possess you in body and soul, his eyes glued to where you’re both connected with a sickening fascination. You know the actual question he's asking, even if he can't bring himself to say it. Are you sure you want me? You realize he's just as vulnerable as you are, unsure of himself. It's a rarity that Logan ever talks about himself, always focused on you above all. You want to give him a break, want to make him feel as good as he makes you feel, want him to finally stop holding back and let go. So you kiss him, long and deep, and hope that gets the message across. His answer comes in the form of hands on your hips, the deep timbre of his voice radiating from his broad chest. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

[bi-writes]

can't stop thinking about dark!simon with a sunshine!curvy!fem!reader, it's gnawing at my brain. (18+)

greeting him when he comes home in a little apron with dough smeared across your cheeks. you're bouncing in the kitchen, giggling as you wrap your arms around his neck. one burly arm hooks around your waist as he palms one side of your ass, and you kiss his lips over his blood-soaked mask again and again as you coo, "missed you so much, made you chocolate chip..."

you talk and talk and talk and talk. you're always talking. you're always whispering in his ear and chattering as he drives and telling him some story about something he missed while he was gone as you tidy up the flat. you never stop talking, never run out of things to tell him, and despite the monotone voice and the lack of response, he hears every single word that you say, and he forgets nothing. when he makes his way back on base, johnny is waiting, eager to hear an update about the receptionist at your work and if she is actually sleeping with your manager.

you wash his clothes without even blinking. you're at the sink, a bucket of cold, suddy water there as you scrub at his shirt. there's peroxide at the side, and you use a delicate hand as you scrub at the stains on it. ghost watches from the doorway as you hum to yourself, in a little pair of shorts with your hair tied up as you rinse the shirt clean. blood runs down the drain, and his shirt is clean as new.

you always find some kind of weapon around the house. you bend down to brush crumbs off the kitchen chairs, and you scold simon with a glossy pout because he left a bloody knife taped under the table. you whine when you find a grenade sitting in the same drawer you keep your tampons in. you complain when you take out the jar of rice to make dinner, and there's a small handgun hidden between the grains. but your face always softens when he cups your cheeks with two big hands, kissing you warmly, muttering, "gotta keep y'safe, luvvie...know there's a bloody line waitin' for a taste of y'r cunny, baby."

you visit him on base once in light wash denim and a white tshirt, sneakers hitting the linoleum and purse swinging as you wave at him. he's standing in front of a line of privates, watching them do jumping jacks, and his eyes light up a little when he sees you waving at him enthusiastically. when he finally makes it to you, he shoves you into the nearest supply closet and tugs your jeans down just enough to fit his cock between your thighs. when he's walking you out, the boys watch as you cling to simon's arm, a lovesick grin on your sweaty face as you flutter your lashes up at him.

he loves when your manicured hands touch him. scratching along his scalp, tracing the edge of his jaw, cupping the bulge in his pants. you're so sweet, the most giggly girl, and he loves tasting the strawberry of your gloss as you make him cum with your hand, cooing against his lips about how strong he is, how much you love him, how you would do anything for him.

he loves it most when you see him for what he really is. when he comes home battered and bruised, bloody clothes sticking to him, a snarl to his voice and the adrenaline of an op still pumping through his veins. he loves that nothing about him scares you. that even like this, you lean up on your toes and kiss him softly, that you get some of the blood and dirt smudges on the pink of your pajama pants, and you don't care, that he strangled a man with these very hands only hours ago, and you still want him to touch you.

he loves that you love him. that when he feeds his cock into you that night, in nothing but your baby pink lingerie, that you barely need any prep at all from how wet you are. thick thighs spreading apart, sticky slick shining on your skin, cunt nice and ready for him because you have missed him that much. he loves that no matter how ugly he feels, you always find him attractive, that no matter how many people he tells you that he killed tonight, all you do is smile and pucker your lips, and tell him, "it's okay, teddy bear, they deserved it, didn't they?" and yeah, they did, cause it is kill or be killed, and there is no universe where ghost does not fight to get back here, to get back to this pretty pussy, to get back to the bed he shares with you so he can watch those pretty tits bounce every time he fucks his cock into you.

ghost loves his pretty girl. all smiles. all soft, so cute, just perfect. ghost casts a shadow over the room, and you just brighten it right back up. ghost tracks blood into the house, and there you are to cover it all up with citrus and soap.

yeah. always just sunshine and smiles at home.

[mssalo]

debt

Joel saved you - since that day, you’ve stuck to him, unable to survive on your own. But another mistake pushes him over the edge—this time, his patience snaps. Now, he wants you to pay him back for every time he’s saved you, using your body as the price.

After all, you owe him, and he’s come to collect.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Dark themes, dubious consent/non-consensual themes, explicit sexual content (penetrative sex, oral sex - female receiving), graphic violence, psychological manipulation, dark Joel (possessive, dominant), 5k.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

You had been traveling with Joel for what felt like an eternity.

Time had lost all meaning in this world; days bled into nights, and weeks into months, marked only by the changing light in the sky and the constant push to keep moving, to survive.

Everything blurred into one long, desperate journey, and the only constant was Joel. You and Joel had fallen into an unspoken rhythm—walking, scavenging, finding shelter when the sun dipped below the horizon. He was your protector, the reason you were still alive. You wouldn’t have made it this far without him. In fact, you wouldn’t have lasted a week.

Joel was unlike anyone you’d ever met. He was older, rougher, with edges worn sharp by years of survival. He didn’t talk much, and when he did, his words were clipped and to the point, always with the hint of a warning behind them.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but fill the silences, rambling on nervously, hoping to break the tension that seemed to follow you both like a shadow. You knew you weren’t the smartest, or the strongest. You weren’t a fighter, and your instincts weren’t sharp like his. But Joel had kept you alive despite all of that, and for reasons you didn’t quite understand, he hadn’t left you behind.

That’s why you stuck close to him—because, deep down, you knew that without him, you were as good as dead.

It had all started when Joel saved you for the first time. You hadn’t been prepared for the kind of dangers that came with living outside the walls, beyond the safety of any remaining settlements. You were clueless, naïve—wandering off into the wilderness with nothing more than a backpack and a vague hope of finding food. You hadn’t thought it through. You never did. The moment you left, you were as good as lost.

You didn’t even hear them coming, the raiders. They crept out of nowhere, brutal and fast. By the time you realized what was happening, it was too late. You were surrounded, their eyes filled with malice as they circled you like predators closing in on prey. You were frozen, paralyzed with fear, your mind spinning as you tried to come up with some way out. But there was no way out. They were going to take everything from you—your supplies, your life—and you could feel their intentions burning into your skin, the dark edge of something even worse.

And then Joel appeared.

He moved through them like a shadow, silent and efficient. You barely had time to register what was happening before one of the men fell to the ground, Joel’s knife buried deep in his chest.

The others turned on him, but it didn’t matter. Joel was faster, stronger, and brutal in a way that made your stomach turn. You watched in shock as he killed them all, one after another, without hesitation, without mercy. He didn’t flinch, didn’t waver—his face a mask of cold focus as he wiped the blood from his knife.

When the last of the raiders fell, Joel looked at you, his dark eyes unreadable. You had been trembling, still too stunned to speak, too scared to move. You were supposed to thank him, but the words wouldn’t come. All you could do was stare, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to make sense of the man standing in front of you.

“Come on,” he’d said, his voice low and rough, as if saving you had been an inconvenience. “You’re not safe out here on your own.”

And just like that, you followed him. You didn’t even think about it. You just knew that Joel was your best chance, maybe your only chance, at survival. He was dangerous, but that danger was your shield. He was protection in its most brutal form.

Since then, you hadn’t left his side. Traveling with Joel was a balancing act—one that required you to keep up and stay out of trouble, though you often failed at both. He kept a tight pace, his long strides carrying him forward with purpose, while you struggled to match his speed, constantly lagging behind.

He never said it, but you could feel his frustration simmering beneath the surface, especially when you slowed him down.

Joel was patient, to a point. You could see it in the way his jaw clenched when you talked too much, filling the silence with nervous chatter.

He never asked for details about your past, and you had learned quickly that asking him about his wasn’t wise either. You were opposites in so many ways. Where Joel was quiet and calculating, you were naive, overly optimistic at times, always hoping things would get better.

You talked to fill the space between you, trying to ignore the constant danger that lurked just beyond the edges of your awareness.

But Joel wasn’t one for talking. He had no time for distractions, no tolerance for mistakes. His patience had limits, and you had pushed those limits more times than you could count.

You saw it in his eyes—how they darkened when you slowed him down or when you clumsily fumbled with your supplies. There was a tension between you that you didn’t fully understand, but you could feel it simmering like a storm about to break.

Sometimes, you’d catch Joel watching you. His gaze would linger longer than it should, his expression unreadable. There was something in the way he looked at you that made your heart race—not just from fear, but from something else. Something you didn’t dare name. Joel was magnetic in a way that frightened you, in a way that made it impossible to pull away.

You knew you weren’t the smartest or the most capable, and that knowledge left you vulnerable. You tried to make up for it by being helpful, offering to do the little things—fetching water, setting up camp—but more often than not, you were in Joel’s way.

You relied on him for everything—your safety, your survival—and he knew it. But something was shifting. There was a heat between you that you didn’t fully understand, a simmering undercurrent that felt like it was building toward something inevitable.

You weren’t sure what it was, but every time you caught Joel’s eyes on you, lingering just a little too long, you felt it. The storm was coming. And you didn’t know if you were ready for it.

· · ───

It had been a long day. Hours of walking left your legs aching, the sun had long since dipped below the horizon, and exhaustion weighed heavy on your shoulders. The two of you had made it through the outskirts of a city, avoiding trouble as best you could. But trouble always seemed to find you.

You’d been scavenging through a dusty old shop, wandering farther than you should have. That’s when you heard it. The unmistakable clicking noise that sent a spike of terror through your veins.

Your body froze, breath caught in your throat as the sound drew nearer. It was the wet, choking clicker sound—a noise you’d come to know all too well.

Before you could react, it was on you—a grotesque, twisted figure lurching toward you with inhuman speed. Your body refused to move, fear locking you in place.

Then, just as the creature lunged for you, Joel’s hand yanked you back. His knife flashed, slicing clean through the clicker’s neck, and it collapsed to the ground, twitching and gurgling before going still.

The silence that followed was deafening.

You gasped, your body trembling from the adrenaline, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked up at Joel. 

His face was hard, jaw clenched, and his eyes burned with fury—fury directed entirely at you.

“What the fuck were you thinkin’?” he snapped, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

His hand was still wrapped around your arm, tight and unyielding, pulling you closer to him. “You tryin’ to get yourself killed?”

“I—I wasn’t—” you stammered, but your voice was barely a whisper.

“Shut up,” Joel barked, cutting you off. His grip tightened painfully, his face inches from yours, his voice seething with anger. “You don’t listen. You never fuckin’ listen.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, his words cutting deep. You knew he was right.

You’d messed up—again. You’d wandered off like he told you not to, and it had almost cost you everything.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, but Joel wasn’t having it.

“Sorry ain’t good enough,” he muttered darkly, his voice a low, menacing growl.

His eyes bored into yours, filled with a fury that made your heart race. “Do you even understand how close you were to dyin’?”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for the first time, you saw it clearly—the tension that had been building between you for weeks, months. It wasn’t just anger.

There was something darker, something raw and primal in the way Joel looked at you now. His breathing was heavy, his jaw tight, and his eyes… His eyes were filled with something dangerous.

“You wanna keep playin’ games?” Joel’s voice dropped lower, almost a growl, as he stepped closer, his grip on your arm pulling you toward him until your bodies were nearly touching. “You think I’ll just keep savin’ you every damn time?”

“Joel, I—” you began, but his hand shot up, gripping your chin roughly, forcing you to look into his dark, burning eyes.

“Shut up,” he snarled, his voice tight with barely contained rage. “You don’t get to speak right now. I’m talkin’.”

The world around you seemed to narrow, the only thing you could focus on was Joel—the heat of his body, the tension radiating off him, the way his breath brushed against your skin.

You felt your pulse race, fear and something else tangling together in your chest.

He didn’t let go as he dragged you out of the store, his hand still tight around your wrist, practically pulling you through the darkened streets.

The sun had disappeared behind the horizon, and the air had turned cool, but the heat from Joel’s anger burned hot between you. He moved fast, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed straight ahead, and you stumbled to keep up with his brutal pace.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, he led you into the trees. The abandoned streets gave way to a dense forest, and hidden within the thick canopy of trees was a small, dilapidated cottage.

It was old and crumbling, but it was shelter. Joel didn’t hesitate as he shoved open the door, dragging you inside with him.

The moment the door slammed shut, the air between you shifted. The tension thickened, suffocating and inescapable. Joel let go of your arm, but you could feel the heat of his gaze on your back, and when you turned to face him, his expression had darkened even more.

His eyes were wild now, filled with something you didn’t recognize—something that made your stomach twist in knots. He stepped toward you, slow and deliberate, his presence looming and suffocating.

“You think this is a fuckin’ joke?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “I keep you alive, I protect you, and you don’t even listen.”

You swallowed hard, backing up instinctively, but Joel followed, his body closing the distance between you in an instant. His hand shot out, grabbing your arm again, yanking you toward him until your chest collided with his. The force of it made you gasp, but you didn’t pull away.

“Do you understand what it’s like for me?” he hissed, his breath hot against your ear, his grip unrelenting. “Every goddamn day, I’m watching over you, makin’ sure you don’t get yourself killed. And for what?”

His fingers dug into your skin, but it wasn’t the pain that made your heart race—it was the raw intensity in his voice, the way he looked at you as if you were both a burden and something he couldn’t let go of.

His breathing was ragged, and his body was so close that you could feel the heat radiating off him.

“You’re mine to protect,” Joel muttered darkly, his voice tight with barely controlled emotion. 

“And you don’t get to fuck around like this is a game. You don’t get to make mistakes.”

Joel’s eyes flashed, and before you could react, he pulled you closer, his hand sliding up your arm, gripping your waist.

His touch was rough, possessive, and it sent a jolt of something through you—something that made your heart race even faster. His gaze was intense, his breathing ragged, and you could feel the tension radiating off him like a heatwave.

Joel’s grip on you was firm, his hand pressing against your waist, keeping you pinned close to him. 

You could feel the tension radiating off him, his body tight with barely-contained anger and something else—something darker, more possessive. His eyes were dark, his jaw clenched as he stared down at you, his fingers digging into your skin like he was trying to hold himself back.

But he wasn’t holding back anymore.

“You have no idea, do you?” Joel muttered, his voice rough and low as his eyes raked over you. “ Walkin’ around, gettin’ too close, thinkin’ I’m just gonna keep savin’ your ass without takin’ anything in return.”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest as his words sunk in.

You’d always known Joel was different, but this… this was something else entirely. His eyes were burning with an intensity you hadn’t seen before, and the way he looked at you, the way he held you, sent a shiver down your spine.

“I can’t fuckin’ hold back no more,” Joel growled, his hand sliding up your side, rough and possessive as his fingers traced your skin under your shirt. “Every time I save you, every damn time, you get closer. You think I don’t notice?”

You blinked up at him, your pulse racing. “I didn’t—”

“Shut up,” Joel snapped, his hand moving to grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “You’ve been pushin’ me. You’ve been drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy, actin’ all innocent, like you don’t know what you’re doin’.” His thumb brushed over your lips, rough and demanding.

“You owe me, darlin’. You owe me for every time I’ve kept you alive.”

Your breath came in shaky gasps, your body trembling under his touch as you stared up at him, wide-eyed.

“You’re mine now - my responsibility,” Joel growled, his voice low and rough as his hand slipped lower, his fingers trailing down your body with deliberate intent.

“You understand that? You owe me, and it’s time you start payin’ me back.”

You swallowed hard, your mind spinning as Joel’s words sank in. The way he spoke, the way his body pressed against yours, left no room for doubt. Joel wasn’t asking anymore.

He was taking, and there was nothing you could do to stop him.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your neck as his fingers tightened around your waist, his voice a low, dangerous murmur.

“You’re too fuckin’ pretty and sweet to keep walkin’ around like you don’t know what you do to me. You need to learn, and I’m gonna teach you.”

His words sent a jolt through you, your heart racing as his hands moved over your body. 

You could feel the heat of him, the raw power in the way he held you, and it made your head spin. You didn’t know what to do—didn’t know if you should fight him or let him take what he wanted. But the way he touched you, the way he looked at you like you were his, made it impossible to resist.

“You’ve been drivin’ me crazy,” Joel growled, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low rasp. “I’ve been watchin’ you, waitin’, but I ain’t waitin’ anymore. You’re mine now, and you’re gonna thank me the way I deserve.”

Your breath hitched as his hand moved lower, his grip tightening as he held you against him, his voice dark and commanding. “You’re gonna give me what I want, and you’re gonna like it.”

His words hung in the air, thick with tension and promise, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as Joel’s hand slid down to your hips, fingers gripping you tightly.

“You don’t even know how long I’ve been wanting this,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck, sending waves of heat through your body. “Every time I save you, I think about what I could do to you. What I want to take from you.”

You swallowed hard, the way he spoke igniting something deep within you. “Joel, I—” but he silenced you with a fierce kiss, his mouth capturing yours with a possessiveness that made your head spin.

You melted against him, feeling the heat radiating off his body, the raw intensity of his desire overwhelming your senses.

“You feel my cock, baby?” he growled, pressing his hard bulge against you, his hands roaming over your skin, exploring every curve and contour.

“That’s what you do to me. You think I can just keep saving your ass without gettin’ something in return? I need something to stay motivated.”

His fingers found the waistband of your pants again, tugging them down your legs with a firm yank. You gasped, a rush of air escaping your lips as he tossed them aside, leaving you exposed and vulnerable before him.

“You owe me for every damn time,” he said, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you, bare and trembling. “And I’m gonna collect.”

He knelt before you, his gaze locked onto your slick folds - all spread open with your little clit twitching - and you felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks.

“Finally gettin’ to see this sweet little pussy up close,” he growled, his voice low and dripping with desire. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you.”

Before you could utter a word, his mouth was on you, devouring you with a fervor that made your body jerk in response.

His tongue slid over your folds with slow, deliberate strokes, dragging across your wetness, tasting you as if he had been starved for this moment. 

The pressure of his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently at first, before increasing his intensity, pulling a helpless gasp from your lips.

"Shh," he murmured against you, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. "Just take it. This is what you’re here for. This is my payment."

His tongue began to circle your clit, his movements slow and purposeful, as if savoring every second. The wet heat of his mouth sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, and the rough texture of his tongue made your legs tremble uncontrollably.

His lips closed around your swollen bud again, sucking harder now, each pull dragging you deeper into the haze of pleasure he was building within you.

“Look at you,” he muttered darkly, his voice a growl vibrating against your core. “This little cunt… soaking for me. My good little girl - can’t think for herself, hm?”

His fingers joined the rhythm, sliding through your wet folds, teasing your entrance but never giving you exactly what you craved.

He kept you on edge, his fingers barely entering, only to pull back, his tongue working in perfect sync as he sucked harder on your clit, then flicked it mercilessly. You could feel the pressure building inside you, every nerve alight with need, but he was in no rush. He wanted to enjoy this, to savor the control he had over you.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice filled with satisfaction as he pulled back just enough to speak. “This is my pussy. Look at how wet you are for me. I’m the only one who gets to do this to you, the only one who’s gonna make you fall apart like this.”

Without warning, he sucked your clit hard, his teeth grazing over it ever so slightly, biting your sweet pulsing clit - making your body jolt with a mix of pleasure and pain that left you gasping.

The bite was just enough to send a shock through you, but before you could fully react, his tongue was back, flicking fast over your sensitive bud, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice low and full of dark possessiveness. “This little pussy is mine to use whenever I want. You’re gonna take it and keep quiet.”

His fingers slid inside you then, filling you with a firm, confident thrust. He moved them in and out slowly, deliberately, matching the rhythm of his tongue as it continued its assault on your clit. The combined sensation of his fingers stretching you and his mouth working your swollen bud had your body trembling, the tension building impossibly high.

He sucked hard again, his lips sealing around your clit, tongue swirling over it as he thrust his fingers deeper. His possessive growls vibrated against your skin, adding to the overwhelming sensations flooding your body. He bit down gently once more, his teeth grazing your sensitive clit, and the shock of it sent a jolt of electricity through you.

“Take it,” he commanded, his voice rough, his breath hot against your core. “I’m not letting up until I’ve gotten everything.”

Your body was on fire, the relentless teasing and flicking of his tongue pushing you higher, the pressure in your core coiling tighter with every thrust of his fingers.

You were close—so close—but he wasn’t going to let you have it easily. He pulled back for a moment, admiring the way you writhed, utterly helpless against the pleasure he was giving you.

“You’re not gonna forget this,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours with a dark intensity. “Every time you take a step, you’re gonna remember who this fuckin’ pussy belongs to.”

Then, without warning, his mouth was back on you, sucking hard, his fingers moving faster, more demanding.

He thrust them deeper inside you, curling them just right as his tongue flicked over your clit again and again, the relentless pressure pushing you right to the edge.

Your body tensed, every muscle tight as the wave built inside you, ready to break. “Cum for me, little girl,” he growled against your skin, his voice thick with dominance. “Cum for me, and don’t you dare hold back.”

And with one last powerful flick of his tongue, you shattered, the wave crashing over you as your body convulsed under the intensity of your orgasm.

The pleasure hit you in crashing waves, your body trembling uncontrollably as he continued to lick and suck, drawing out every last bit of your release. His fingers didn’t stop, thrusting slowly as your walls clenched around him, your cries filling the room as he took everything from you.

He pulled back, his lips glistening with your wetness as he looked up at you, his eyes filled with dark satisfaction. “That’s it,” he said softly, his voice still rough. “You’re mine. This pussy is mine.”

As you were there, breathless, your body still trembling from the aftershocks, he leaned down again, his lips grazing over your inner thigh - his voice low and possessive. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He loomed over you, every inch of him radiating raw, unrestrained control. His hands slid over your thighs, spreading you wide beneath him as his gaze locked on your slick folds, his eyes filled with possessive hunger. 

He moved up - his cock pressed against you, thick and hard, teasing your entrance but not giving you what you so desperately craved.

His control over you was absolute, and he loved every second of it.

“My sweet little girl,” he growled, his voice low and full of dark intent. His fingers traced along your wetness, teasing your sensitive skin, the heat of him pressing harder against your entrance, but still not pushing inside. 

“You don’t even know how much you need me, do you? You think you can take care of yourself? No, baby. I do that for you. I keep you safe, I protect you, and you’ll give me what I deserve in return.”

He thrust forward suddenly, filling you with one hard stroke, making you gasp as he stretched you to the limit.

His cock pulsed inside you, thick and unrelenting, and your body tightened around him instinctively. “That’s it,” he growled, his hips grinding against yours. “You feel that? That’s me taking what’s mine.”

His pace was slow at first, each thrust deliberate, as if he was savoring the feeling of you wrapped around him. 

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you harder against him as he began to move faster, driving into you with more force. “This pussy belongs to me, and I’ll keep you safe, baby. You’ll never have to worry about anything… as long as you let me take care of you like this. As long as you give me this tight cunt to fuck.”

He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as his hips moved against yours, his voice low and rough. His cock now pushing deeper into your gripping cunt.

“You don’t have to think, baby. I’ve got you. You don’t need to worry about a thing. I make the decisions now, you just let me take what I need from you. Yeah?”

Each word sent a shiver through you, the possessiveness in his tone making the heat between you burn even hotter. His cock drove into you harder now, each thrust hitting deeper, as if he was determined to claim every part of you. 

His hand slid up to your throat, gripping lightly, just enough to remind you who was in control. “You don’t need to think. You don’t need to decide. I do that for you. I keep you safe, baby. That’s what I’m here for.”

His pace quickened, each thrust harder and more demanding, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the room.

His grip tightened on your throat, his thumb pressing gently on your pulse as his hips slammed into yours with relentless force. “You like that?” he growled, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Me taking care of you? You’ll never feel pain, never be unsafe, as long as you’re mine.”

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your neck, his breath hot and ragged as he whispered against your skin.

“You couldn’t survive without me. You need me to protect you… and this is what you give me in return. This sweet fuckin’ pussy, all mine. I can feel how much she needs me, how tight she’s squeezing me.”

His thrusts became erratic, more desperate as the pleasure built between you. His cock filled you perfectly, his hands gripping you tightly as he pounded into you, the force of his thrusts pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like this,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “The only one who makes you come. You don’t need to think, baby. I do that for you.”

The pressure inside you built higher, your body tightening around him as he drove you toward the breaking point. His hands moved down your body, gripping your hips harder, pulling you against him with each powerful thrust. “You’re mine to protect, mine to fuck, mine to keep safe. And I’ll keep doing it as long as you keep giving me this pussy.”

His words were pushing you closer and closer, the raw intensity of his voice mixing with the physical sensation of him inside you.

His hips moved faster, harder, as he took you completely, the rhythm of his thrusts relentless and commanding.

“Come for me, baby,” he growled, his voice thick with dominance.

“I want to feel this cunt squeeze my cock. I want to feel you give me everything. That’s what you’re here for, hm? To make me feel good. To keep me happy.”

His words sent you over the edge, your body tightening around him as the wave of pleasure crashed through you. You cried out, your voice breaking as your orgasm tore through you, your body trembling beneath him as he kept thrusting, driving you through every wave of release.

“That’s it,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. “You’re perfect for me. I’m the only one who gets this, the only one who makes you feel like this.”

His body trembled as he came, his groans mixing with your gasps, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he filled you completely.

The weight of him stayed pressed against you, his breath heavy and ragged, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he stayed right there, still buried deep inside you, his cock warm and hard within you, as though he couldn’t bear to lose the connection between your bodies.

For a long, quiet moment, the world seemed to stop. His chest rose and fell against yours, your heartbeats gradually slowing, but his cock remained where it was, still throbbing slightly, refusing to let go. His hands moved down your sides, gentle but possessive, his touch tracing over your skin as though reminding you exactly who you belonged to.

“Imma stay inside you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough in your ear. His lips brushed against your neck, planting soft, possessive kisses along your skin. “You feel too good, baby. I’m not ready to leave yet.”

He shifted slightly, his body still pressed firmly against yours, his cock still resting deep within you, a steady warmth radiating between your bodies.

His fingers moved slowly, lazily, slipping between your legs to where you were still slick with your combined release. His fingertips grazed your swollen clit, making your body jolt, even in the soft afterglow of what had just happened. 

“You’re still so sensitive,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as his fingers continued their slow, teasing exploration. 

He barely touched you, just enough to keep the sensation alive, his cock twitching slightly inside you as he shifted his hips ever so gently. “But you can handle it, can’t you, baby? Just let me stay right here, let me keep feeling you.”

The slow circling of his fingers, combined with the fullness of him still inside you, kept your senses buzzing, every nerve in your body still on edge. His hand moved with the lightest touch, but it was enough to keep the heat simmering just beneath the surface.

You felt the weight of his possessiveness in his every movement, his control over you still present, even in the gentleness of his touch.

He lifted his head slightly, his lips brushing your cheek, his voice softer but still filled with that dark promise.

“You don’t need to worry about anything. I’ve got you. You just stay right here… under me, with my cock still inside you. This is where you belong. Can’t do nothin’ wrong here.”

His words made your body shiver, even as his fingers continued their lazy circling, barely touching but enough to keep you sensitive, aware of him.

Your breath hitched, your mind spinning with the intensity of the connection you shared. The control he had over you, even in this moment of softness, was undeniable, and a question formed on your lips—tentative, but needing to be asked.

“So you’ll keep me safe?” you whispered, your voice breathless, a mix of need and vulnerability. “You won’t leave me now… and ever?”

For the first time, you spoke, and the words seemed to hang in the air between you. His gaze softened slightly as he looked down at you, but the possessiveness in his eyes remained.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, slow kiss, his hand still resting on your thigh, fingers still gently teasing you.

“I’ll never leave you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice warm but full of that same commanding promise. “You’re mine, baby. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll protect you from everything. You’ll never have to think for yourself again… not when I’m here to take care of you.”

His fingers slowed, his touch even lighter now, more like a reminder of the control he held over your body.

His cock was still inside you, the warmth of him filling you completely as he spoke, each word laced with dark satisfaction. “This is where you belong, with me inside you. I’m the only one who can keep you safe… the only one who gets to touch you like this.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, his lips soft but possessive. His hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin as if to reassure you of the promise he was making.

“You don’t have to worry about anything,” he whispered, his breath mingling with yours. “I’ll always protect you… as long as you keep giving me everything.”

He stayed there, his body still pressed against yours, his cock still warm inside you, the closeness between you tangible and intense. His kisses grew softer, lingering, his fingers still gently teasing at your oversensitive skin, keeping you connected, keeping you grounded in the possessive warmth of his embrace.

“And remember,” he said softly, a hint of menace in his tone, “there’s no turning back now.”

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

[oceantornadoo]

two lieutenants.

(simon riley x f!reader, all fluff)

two lieutenants🌪️masterlist

not supposed to happen, not really. but the higher ups are finding their morality (where was it all these years ago?) and want to pat themselves on the back for adding a woman to the team.

simon is prepared to hate you, someone taking his spot. this one thing he's done in his life well, the one family he can protect. it itches him in a place he can't shake, the thought of change, of a new person. someone who will stare at his skeleton ways and his gruff voice, someone who will judge but not understand.

but then he meets you, tinkling laugh with doe eyes. calculating in your military knowledge, respectful of the 141's history. never overstepping, never trying to take his place, simply wanting to learn. he tries to hate you, tries to dump sugar in your tea and hide your eye black, but you just laugh and make a face at the sweetness, drawing an extra makeup stick out of your cargoes.

he needs to hate you, but you wash his extra masks without asking on the days he can't touch them for the blood that's laced into the seams. you include his cigarettes on base grocery runs and pour over tactical maps with him until the wee hours, understanding his fundamental need to know everything, more than what's in the briefing papers.

you are prepared to be intimidated by the ghost, the killing machine without a name. you know you're the only woman on an all-male team, but even you can't work friendship miracles. then you meet him and he cocks his head and sizes you up, seeing you as a threat instead of a piece of meat. someone worth considering, not a sideshow, not eye candy.

you try to be scared of him, but how could you when he always leaves an extra tea bag in the almost-empty box? when he keeps hair ties in his front pocket because yours always seem to break in between missions. he listens to your stories and nods thoughtfully, not needing to preen and puff his status like men you've met before.

you need to stay away, but he takes off his gloves in front of you that first time and suddenly you can't. he tells you to call him simon and that he likes the way you say his name, your dissimilar accent coming through. he brushes stray hair from the nape of your neck during a desert mission, tucking it back into your bandana, and you can't remember why you ever intimidated by this man who makes you earn his comfort and care, but who gives it endlessly once you've got it. he's your simon and you're his partner in crime, and suddenly you two could never imagine a team without two lieutenants.

--

im not always into power/rank play i want to be RESPECTED

(don't get me wrong it still eats sometimes)

[loonylupinblack3]

Jealous

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: swearing, suggestive content, slight violence

Summary: Logan see's a guy flirting with you and gets jealous

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: this was written while i was sleep deprived and had no idea where tf it was going so enjoy

Logan wasn’t a very jealous person. He never had reason to be; everyone knew you were his and he didn’t feel the need to scare anyone off. He knew you only had eyes for him, and he didn’t feel threatened by anyone else.

Usually.

Yet as he was watching you laughing with that guy at the bar, like he was somehow the most hilarious fucking person on this planet, all he wanted to do was walk over there and punch the guy square in the jaw.

He didn’t though, because he’d learnt from the past you were not a fan of his outbursts but fuck he wanted to. He could feel his claws itching to extend, to rip through his flesh and proceed to rip out that guy’s flesh. He knew you were dating Logan, he’d have to. He was a new mutant to the school sure but he’d been here for about a week. It was common knowledge you and Logan were in a serious relationship; he’d have to have heard about it by now.

So he was flirting with you knowing you were taken. He might as well have been flirting with death.

“Calm down there mate.”

Scott’s voice took Logan out of his stewing. He glanced at his friend, who had noticed his jealousy and was staring at him with an amused look on his face.

“Shut up,” was Logan’s gruff response, eyes going back to your smiling face, resisting the urge to walk over there and claim you as his right in front of the bastard.

He was also miffed with you, however. Surely you weren’t that dumb. Surely you could see the blatant attraction the man held for you. Yet you did nothing to diffuse the tension or let him know you weren’t interested.

“Dude, you’d think you had my laser eyes with the way you’re glaring at that guy,” Scott said, not helping Logan in the slightest. He wished he did have Scott’s lazer eyes so he could get rid of this irritating problem. 

Jean decided to walk up at that moment, casting Logan a weary glance. “I’m not sure how long he can take before he snaps.”

“I can hear you y’know,” Logan said through gritted teeth, though Jean wasn’t entirely wrong.

It was when the guy laid his hands on you, squeezing your arm the way Logan did, that he finally ‘snapped’ as Jean had called it.

His friends didn’t even try to stop him as he stalked towards you, knowing it’d be no use. Logan was ready to rip that man’s arm off his body if he kept touching what was Logan’s, and he wouldn’t even feel bad about it. He’d enjoy it. 

You turned towards him when he arrived, shining him a bright smile. God, you really were that naive when it came to other men. Logan knew he should be grateful, knew this obliviousness came from a place of love, where you simply didn’t see any other man that way so you didn’t pick up on the obvious cues, but right now it was doing nothing but irk him, seeing another man flirt with you and seeing you do nothing about it.

“Logan,” you greeted warmly, wrapping both your arms around one of his, and shaking the other man’s hand off in the process. A bolt of satisfaction struck him at the action, but it wasn’t enough to quench his overwhelming jealousy.

He tugged you closer, feeling a deep sense of contentment when you eagerly complied, and his irritation towards you lessened slightly. Noticing the man’s narrowed gaze as he watched the two of you however only increased it.

He raised an eyebrow at the man. “Something wrong?”

He tried and failed to mask his face, Logan seeing the twisted jealousy lurking beneath the surface. It was so similar to his own it caught Logan off guard for a second, and his own anger towards the man wavered.

That was until he opened his mouth. 

“Just the fact you can’t give your girlfriend more than five minutes of space before you’re crowding her again.”

Logan was going to kill this man.

You seemed to realise that too as your hold got a tad tighter, as if to hold him back. If you weren’t wrapped around his arm his claws would already be out, yet you knew exactly how to stop him, and had it so Logan couldn’t attack this son of a bitch.

“Excuse me?” was his response again, and the people around them quietened, as if sensing the danger.

He felt rather than saw Scott and Jean move closer, to protect Logan or the man he wasn’t sure.

The man scoffed, glancing at you who was certainly not smiling at him anymore. “You see her chatting to me and you have to barge in. It’s like you’re scared if she talks to another guy she’ll realise you’re not all that and fuck off while she has the chance.”

Yep, this man was dead. He couldn’t just run his mouth like that, in front of you, and expect Logan not to pummel him into the ground. He was going to make sure the man’s death was painful and slow, that he felt every cut and bone breaking.

Yet before he could do a single thing you stepped forward and gave the guy a glare so dirty Logan was relieved not to be on the receiving end of it.

“You speak about my relationship with Logan like you have any idea of what goes on between us again and I’ll fuck your shit up.”

The man looked so stunned he couldn’t even formulate a proper sentence. “But you- but he-”

“Did you ever think maybe I like having him around? That maybe spending time with my boyfriend is what I want? And even if I didn’t, did you really think I’d prefer you instead? A man who barely knows me yet tries to speak for me and insults the people I love?”

Logan was staring at you in awe. The way you kept going, stripping this man of his arrogance and self assuredness, ripping him to shreds verbally the way Logan would have physically, well, it turned him on. You matched each other so well he couldn’t help the smug smile tugging at his lips as he turned back to the now humiliated man.

“I think she said it all.”

He sent Logan one last glare, and he thought that would be the end of it when he caught the muttered “bitch,” the man sent your way.

Immediately Logan’s fist was in his face, slamming into his jaw, his nose, any piece of flesh he could find. He was barely aware of the gasps around him and you’re incessant tugging of his shirt as he grabbed the man by the neck and looked him in the eye.

“If you so much as look at her in any disrespectful way again, I’ll tear you to shreds.”

Then he dropped the man, watching him scramble upright and swear profusely at him- though not a single word or glance was directed at you- before getting the hell out of there.

Satisfied, he turned to find you glaring at him, hands on your hips with a stern look on your face.

Logan held out both his hands in defence. “What?”

“I had that handled.”

Logan grabbed you by the waist and tugged you close, and though you weren’t exactly happy with him you weren’t completely mad either, because the man had been a dick, and let him reel you in.

“I know Bub, I just couldn’t let him get away with calling you that.”

You sighed but pressed your head into his chest and Logan knew he was victorious. “Let’s just get out of here, yeah?”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “Yeah?”

You smirked, “I want to see how wild you get when you’re jealous.”

Logan grinned a purely animalistic smile as he brought you close, pressing his lips against your ear as he whispered roughly, “oh just you wait Sweetheart.”

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

55 / 1.2k / first time meeting Ghost for medic reader

...

"Don't expect to be treated special," the skull-faced man tells you. " if someone needs patching, which is unlikely, don’t expect them to be a grateful patient." Ghost leads you through the halls, your medical bag slung over his shoulder. "And we don't care for small talk. Nor do we care how you do your job. Just do it. We don't care if you like us or not. Actually, I prefer you don't get any funny ideas about befriending me."

Is that all. Twenty minutes ago you arrived and already the Simon Riley so graciously rolls out the welcome wagon. You take it by the way he hefts your bag down that he's finished with his talk and you can get to work.

"That's perfectly fine," you tell him. Mildly, as if he didn't just tell you to mind your own fucking business in so many words. "Thank you. If you'll excuse me."

"I won't," he says. "The Captain tasked me with keeping an eye on you. Can't really do that if you walk away."

You halt and turn to peer at him. "I'm sorry?"

He doesn't even look at you. Instead, he begins casually cleaning an already shining knife. "Price told me to make sure you get nice and settled in. So I'm keeping watch."

Your jaw flexes. "Tell Captain Price I don't need a babysitter. You're dismissed."

He pauses The stare he gives you from behind that mask is halting. "You should really learn to be a bit more polite to your superiors. I don't take orders from you. If Price says you need supervision, I'm supervising."

"You're not my superior," you tell him. "And I'm not your recruit. I'm a contractor."

"Let me make one thing clear, medic," he growls. "Everyone on this base follows a chain of command, and that includes you. You might have a contract, you might not be a recruit, but on this team, you answer to the boss. And right now, he said I'm keeping an eye on you. So if you want to have words with me..."

He takes a step closer, leaning down to your eye level.

"I'd suggest you swallow them."

Even without the height difference, his gaze is like a physical weight. You stare back for a long moment. There's a challenge in those dark eyes, daring you to push him. He's looking for an excuse to put you in your place, and you know it.

You refuse to take the bait. Without saying a word, You turn your back and walk away, making your way toward the medical offices. He follows you, humming a tune and flipping the knife tip-first between his fingers.

If he wants to babysit, fine. It won't stop you from doing your goddamn job.

Days later, you're hard at work. It's near midnight. You've been on your feet for around 30 hours.

The door to the medical office slides open and Ghost walks in. It's clear from one look at him that he hadn't gotten any sleep either. He's been on a series of missions back to back for two days straight. With a deep sigh, he leans against the counter, arms folded over his chest.

"You're still awake?" he asks.

You glance at him. "You look like hell."

"Flattery will get you everywhere." His eyes sweep over you. He takes note of the dark circles under your eyes, the exhaustion clear on your face. It's obvious that you're just as tired as he is. "You've been at this too long. How long since you took a break?"

You look back down at your work. "Doesn't matter. There's still work to do."

He pushes himself off the counter and walks over to you. His footsteps are heavy on the floor. "This how you take care of yourself? Work until you pass out?"

"What's it to you? I do my job."

"You work yourself to exhaustion, you won't be able to do jack shit." He's now standing directly behind you. He looks down to see you're doing inventory of the medical supplies. He glances at how fast your fingers move, how you never stop. It's obvious that you're pushing yourself.

"I know what I'm doing."

"You're going to goddamn kill someone."

As you scan the list, you notice the tremors in your hands. Damn it.

"You have no room to talk." You turn around to stare him down so you don't have to keep seeing your own hands shake. Up close, he looks even worse. Christ, is that blood?

"Sit down," you command. "You're bleeding. You need a checkover."

He gives a deep sigh, tired. "S'not necessary."

He's downplaying the situation. Typical. But he does as he's told, sitting down on the exam table in front of you. There's no use trying to hide injuries from a medic.

You lift up the underside of his t-shirt to find the long cut stretching across his chest underneath. It was bandaged--though not well, and it's bleeding through. It isn't a life-threatening situation, but it'll need stitches, and it's definitely not the nothing he made it out to be.

"Hold this," you tell him, putting his shirt hem in his hand. "Keep still."

He winces. Despite his best efforts to hide the pain and discomfort, it's clear that it's more than a minor injury. He takes the shirt as instructed, holding it out of the way. He watches you in silence as you work, studying your focused expression and the methodical way you tend to his wound. You're not gentle by any means. But you're efficient. Even if it is annoying to have you fussing over him.

Though your work is hampered by your shaking hands and you're obviously frustrated about it. Your movements aren't as deft as they should be--not as quick as your eyes.

"Stay still," you snap.

"I'm not moving," he responds through gritted teeth.

Despite his best efforts to stay stoic, he frowns under his mask. Being patched up, sitting still and letting himself be tended to isn't something he's used to. Still, you're clearly in worse shape than he is. Somehow. His eyes dart from the sutures in his chest to your face.

You finish as quickly as you can. You know you've caused him unnecessary pain with this repair. But he shouldn't have gotten himself hurt in the first place. The cure should be more bitter than the cut, as far as you're concerned.

When you've snipped away the excess thread, you take a deep, slow breath, and it feels like whatever energy you had left escapes with it. You touch the stitches stretching across his pectoral muscle lightly. It jumps with the sudden tenderness. Then you apply a new bandage.

"There," you mutter. "Don't let it happen again."

"I don't plan on it." He scrutinizes your face again. Exhaustion and fatigue are etched into every feature. You're running on fumes. "You'd better go rest."

"Whatever happened to not caring about how I do my job?"

"Medic," he warns.

"I'm going," you mutter. "Don't you report this to Price again. I'm going."

"That's what I thought." He smooths his shirt down. He hides a smirk and rubs the aching stitches. "Don't let it happen again."

...

more Ghost / masterlist tag