#gnawing on my remote

[sugarcube-stillabookworm]

when Bair says "when you return...if you return" and it shows moiraine and rand behind the spears but rand is fully visible while moiraine is cut through by a blade i-

[t4tails]

oh my goddd clark ASK HER ON A DATE ALREADY!!! bizarro asked her and she said yes BECAUSE SHE THOUGHT IT WAS YOU! AUAGGHH

[cherishednymph]

i fear they don’t make men like this anymore ❤️‍🩹

[abyssalmermaiden]

YOU WOULD THINK that after over a year of spinning them in my brain I would have a better understanding of how Amon feels about Viola. Everything I've written on the subject feels full of contradictions.

I have a hard time getting inside his mind. He's not yet the Fandaniel we meet in Endwalker, but he's past the tipping point- the point of no return- to becoming that man.

The friendship between Hermes and Ares is known to him in dream or memory. Whether he feels any of it as if it were his own, I couldn't say. If so I've thought it most likely that he's compartmentalized such feelings as not his own (technically true)

She's a tool- or rather, a plaything. More ornament than companion. And yet he holds some affection for his musical protege.

There's something about vulnerability. Why would a man known for being increasingly paranoid keep someone around who could become a weakness for others to exploit? He must feel so secure in his power over her to let the mask (metaphorical and literal) slip a bit perhaps

[karinyosa]

how come every gay person i talk to is like oh i've heard good things about the new iwtv series but i haven't seen it with this air of "i secretly have a lot of reservations about it" LOSERRRSSS take a CHANCE on ART my GOD

[s0dium]

𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑!!!

𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐱 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d find out that your crush, Geto Suguru, was just like you: a murderer. Not only that but you share the same passion; killing criminals and pedophiles! (Happy Kinktober) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: DARK CONTENT, gore, mutilation, murder, mentions of pedophiles (y/n kills them), serial killing, unprotected sex, breeding, choking, teasing, knife play, whipped Suguru 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k 𝐀/𝐧: This is based HEAVILY on the novel Butcher and Blackbird by Brynne Weaver. The original idea is credited to Brynne Weaver ONLY. This work is fan fiction and is not intended for commercial purposes or to infringe on the intellectual property rights of the original author.

Being a serial killer who kills other killers, pedophiles, and rapists is a great hobby.

Until you find yourself locked in a cage.

For three days.

No AC.

With a body you carved up.

You glare at the fly-riddled corpse whose legs are kneeling opposite of you in the locked cage you were both trapped in. The air is thick with the putrid stench of decay, a relentless assault on your senses. The body's skin is pallid, marred by the writhing mass of white maggots that feast mercilessly. Where eyes once held gaze, now only hollow sockets remain, tediously scooped out and vacant. The ears too have been sheared off, leaving clean edges that blend into the mottled, blood-stained flesh. Its chest has been cracked open; ribs pried apart in a macabre mimicry of an unhinged broken cocoon, revealing the dark, empty cavity where a heart once beat.

Then, of course, the piste de resistance of your work, the removed eyes, ears, and heart rest in the corpse's upturned palms—placed with ceremonial care amidst the chaos of mutilation.

So now, if anyone were to walk down the steps of Gary Green House's basement, they would not only find his mutilated body, but the person who did it, trapped in a cage together.

"Fuck." You curse at yourself for the millionth time since you've been trapped here for the last three days. The cold realization that you've fallen into Gary’s final trap gnaws at your mind as relentlessly as the maggots at the corpse across from you. The cage, a cruel relic of Gary’s twisted pleasures, had seemed the perfect place for your ritual—turning the hunter into the hunted in his own den of horrors. But in your fervor to see him pay, you overlooked one crucial detail: the cage's sinister design, which sealed shut the moment its door swung closed.

The remote control, now a mocking symbol of freedom, lies just beyond the bars, on a small, grimy table. You remember the sickening click of the lock, the finality of it echoing in the cramped space as you turned back from the grisly task of dismembering Gary—his last, silent victory.

Even the idiot police could deduce that this was all your doing, seeing as all your bloody tools were still with you in your backpack. With fingerprints. It was just a matter of time before they opened the basement door.

You could practically hear Gary’s voice from beyond the grave: "Hah! Serves you right, you stupid bitch! That's what you get for killing me!" The taunt echoes in your head like a song over and over again and you're seriously contemplating banging your head against the iron bars.

"FUCK FINE!" You yell into the darkness. "I renounce my wicked ways!"

"That's a shame. I bet I would like your wicked ways."

You jump at the sound of a man's deep, smooth voice, the cadence of slight raspiness warming every note. Your curses cut the humid air from the startlement of the man's presence. How the hell did he even get in here? You didn't hear the basement door open. You scurry out of reach of the man who saunters into the thin thread of light from the narrow window, the glass opaque with fly shit.

"You seem to be in a predicament." He says stepping into view. The thin light from the window partially illuminates him, allowing you to make out his face. Oh rather, what is on his face.

Holy shit.

A ghost mask stares back at you, its hollow eyes and elongated mouth frozen in a chilling scream. The stark white of the mask contrasts sharply with the surrounding shadows, and you watch with wide eyes as he tilts his head.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

In any other situation, you might be fan-girling. You know exactly who you're staring at: the infamous Crucifer, a killer, like you, but notorious for his crucifixion of criminals in rather, flamboyant displays. The few eyewitness accounts of the Crucifer all mention the ghost mask, leaving no doubt in your mind about his identity.

While your hunting grounds have been Osaka, his have typically been Tokyo, but despite the geographical difference, his reputation precedes him. In all honesty, you shouldn’t be surprised he’s here. Your victim, Gary Greenwich, is notorious even among the authorities. Despite his crimes, the lack of solid evidence has always allowed him to slip through the cracks of the justice system, leaving him free to continue his heinous activities. He was high on your kill list, and it’s no surprise he was high on Crucifers as well.

He takes a few steps closer toward the cage to stare down at the corpse, bending to take a closer look.

"Well what happened here?" He chuckles.

You are on day three of no food. No water. The gnawing hunger in your stomach feels like a relentless beast, clawing at your insides with increasing ferocity. You wonder if your body has started to eat its own organs at this point.

You can't deal with this shit.

"Self defense." You say.

The man chuckles. "I doubt that, you're not his type." Despite his mask you can feel his eyes shift from the corpse to linger on you.

"And how would you know that?"

"Well disregarding the state in which you "self defense" left him, you're not a 6 year old boy. And," he steps closer so now he is inches away from the bars and his whole body is illuminated. "I make it my business to know."

You don't answer. Instead you watch as he crouches down to meet your gaze. You try to hide behind your tangled hair and folded limbs, giving him only your eyes.

And of course, just your luck, he is stunning

Black hair flows behind his mask and down his shoulder. He's wearing a black compression shirt that hugs every muscle of his biceps and forearms, accentuating his athletic build. His broad shoulders enhance his imposing presence, giving him the aura of a seasoned athlete. Black cargo pants complete his ensemble, practical and intimidating, with a hunting knife sticking out of his pocket, probably what he would've used on Gary if you hadn't got to him first.

Something about him looks familiar, something you can't put your finger on.

"I guess you made it your business to know too." He pauses before moving even closer so his mask is practically pressed against the iron bars. "Hey, you look pretty familiar."

You shift uncomfortably, feeling the prickle of anxiety creeping up your spine. Instinctively, you brush a tangled lock of hair from your face, wincing as it catches on your dry lips. The man's shoulders tense as if he has been electrocuted.

"Y/n?" His voice cuts through the thick silence like a knife.

Oh, what the hell.

You jerk your head up from your hunched posture, eyes wide in shock, meeting the unsettling, hollow eyes of the ghost mask. Your heart races, pounding loudly in your chest.

"Wha-"

"Oh my god, it is you!" He exclaims, his loud deep voice echoing through the basement.

"I'm sorry, I don't-" you stammer, confusion and fear knotting in your stomach.

"It's me," he interrupts, and with a swift motion, he takes off his mask. The sight of his familiar face makes your breath catch in your throat. "Suguru Geto."

Suguru Geto. The name alone sent ripples through your thoughts, dragging along memories and emotions you had long buried. Suguru wasn’t just any ordinary guy; he was a micro-celebrity in Tokyo, renowned for his breathtaking tattoo artistry. His ink adorned the bodies of celebrities, flaunted in TikToks and Instagram posts that garnered thousands of likes. His reputation was impeccable, his designs sought after by the elite.

You had crossed paths with Suguru a few times at various parties, your social circles occasionally overlapping due to mutual friends. Each encounter left an indelible mark on you. His presence was magnetic, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. It wasn’t just his talent that made him irresistible; it was everything about him. Those hawk-like eyes that seemed to pierce through to your very soul, the perfect curve of his lips that could shift from a smirk to a genuine smile in an instant, and those dimples that appeared whenever he graced you with that smile—each feature was a weapon, effortlessly disarming.

You, like many other girls, harbored a secret crush on Suguru Geto. It was impossible not to. That face alone could kill, and his charisma was the final blow.

And now, here he was, standing right in front of you, unmasked and undeniably real. The reality of it all hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and a little overwhelmed.

Suguru clears his throat, a small smirk playing on his lips from how obviously you are gawking at him.

"Shot in the dark here but are you the Mute Collector?"

You part your lips to say something but you can't seem to form the right words.

"I-"

Suguru's grin widens and a sharp laugh escapes his perfect mouth. "Oh my god. I knew it. I fucking knew they had it wrong about you with that bull shit profile they built. What was it, they said you were a 30 year old white man?" Suguru throws his head back and smiles at the ceiling. "And the Mute Collector? You? That's just awesome. I'm such a huge fan."

"Yeah..." You clear your throat and push your hair completely out of your face. He grins at you, as though awe struck, and if you weren't wearing 100 layers of grime on your skin you are sure he'd be able to see the blush flaming in your cheeks for a second.

"And you?" You nod toward the mask. "You are?" You don't know why you are feigning ignorance but something about humbling him seems tastier than actual food right now.

"Oh come on." Suguru's tone flattens and he brings the mask up next to his face.

"The Crucifer?"

You shake your head.

"The cross maker?"

You shake your head again. Lying through your teeth is fun.

"The Tokyo Butcher?" When you shake your head he sighs and stands up. "Well," he glances to Gary whose maggots have made their way to the empty eye sockets. "What do you say? We ditch this lousy scene and get something to eat. Maybe when you get food in your stomach you will remember some of my little nicknames."

Your eyes widen and your stomach growls loudly, reminding you of how long it's been since you last ate. You glance up at your Suguru, a mix of hope and suspicion in your gaze.

"Are you serious?" you ask, your voice hoarse from dehydration.

"Yeah, after we get you a shower, some clothes and burn the house down."

You gulp and stand to your feet. "Could we get burgers?"

Suguru grins before grabbing the remote and pointing it at the cage.

"Fine by me."

~

The Mute Collector.

Geto Suguru is sitting across from the fucking Mute Collector.

And god you are beautiful.

Not that he just realized it now. Like many others, he has always known how attractive you are; he just pushed it to the back of his mind. But now, knowing who you really are and what you do in your free time, your body has practically been encompassed in bright warm light and your head adorned with a halo. He watches as you down your 6th cup of water with a sigh and wipe your mouth with your sleeve.

The two of you sit in a cozy booth at a restaurant, the warm, smoky aroma filling the air. Suguru leans back with a beer in hand, watching you with a mix of amusement and caution. The waitress approaches, placing a large plate with a double cheeseburger and fries in front of you. Your eyes light up, and without wasting a second, you pick up the cheeseburger with your fingers and take a big bite, savoring the flavors.

Suguru chuckles, raising his beer in a mock toast. "You look like you've just found the Holy Grail."

He doesn't miss the way you stifle back a laugh, trying to speak through a mouthful of burger. "If the Holy Grail were covered in cheese and ketchup, then yeah, maybe."

He takes a sip of his beer, grinning. "I’ve never seen someone so excited about food. Maybe you should give up your little hobby and do food reviews."

"Well, that's what being trapped in a cage with the rotting corpse of a pedophile does to you I guess." You grumble, setting down the burger and taking another drink of water.

Suguru's eyes stay on you, and he takes the opportunity to really assess you. Your hair is damp, and the wetness seeps into the white Mickey Mouse shirt you're wearing, causing it to cling slightly to your skin and reveal the elegant lines of your collarbone. He bought that shirt and the shorts for you at a thrift store, and despite the fact that such clothes should look bad on anyone, you are rocking them effortlessly.

He can't help but notice that you didn't buy a bra, a fact that makes him smile to himself.

No bra.

"So tell me." Suguru sets his beer back on the table and leans in.

"The whole ears, eyes and heart thing." He waves his left hand in the air. "The police say it's satanic ritual stuff but I don't buy it."

You pause, a hint of a smile playing at your lips as you meet his gaze. "It's simple, really. Hear no evil, see no evil, fear no evil."

Suguru raises an eyebrow. "You have a way of making the macabre sound poetic."

You're about to reach for a fry, but he snatches it before your fingers could reach it.

"Why not the tongue?" He says. "You know, speak no evil."

You roll your eyes and snatch the fry out of his fingers. "Tongues are hard to cut, too slippery and make a mess."

He nods thoughtfully, leaning back in his seat. "You know, most people would be horrified to hear you talk like that."

"Good thing you’re not most people," you reply with a smirk.

"Touché."

He watches as your lips wrap around the thick fry and your teeth rip off half of it into your mouth.

No bra.

"What about you Suguru?" You lock eyes with him. "Why are you here?"

"Why am I here?"

"You heard me. You swoop in all superman-like, save me from the dipshit’s pedo dungeon and take me out for a double cheeseburger. Why are you here?"

Suguru shrugs and averts his gaze from your unyielding stare. Shit, your piercing eyes are almost making him sweat.

"Same thing you already did. I was going to skin him alive and and display the fucking monkey Jesus style infront of his house. At least, something like that."

"Yeah but why him? I thought your hunting grounds were in Tokyo?"

Your eyes widen slightly as the words hang in the air, the weight of your mistake sinking in immediately. You feel a rush of heat to your cheeks, a telltale sign of your embarrassment. Your lips part as if to take back the words, but it's too late; they've already been spoken.

A sly smile spreads across Sugurus face as he watches your face fall.

"Oh you totally know who I am Y/n."

"Fucking hell."

"You do! You know that I like to hunt near my home, how long have you been a part of my fan club?"

You roll your eyes and fall back into your seat. You blink rapidly, trying to maintain your composure, but the subtle tension in your jaw and the furrowing of your brow betray your embarrassment.

"So which one was your favorite? The monkey I strung up next to the police station? Or the one I flayed inside the Tokyo Union Church?"

"Oh my god I can already tell you are going to be insufferable." You grumble, the heat of embarrassment slowly dissipating as you take a deep breath. Suguru leans back, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he swirls the beer in his hand, watching you with an almost predatory curiosity. As seconds pass, Suguru assesses your face, following how your eyes dart around the room, searching for an escape route, and Suguru’s playful expression falters for a split second. He realizes with a sudden jolt that you're trying to leave. He can't have that. He needs to see you again.

"Hey speaking of suffering," Suguru clears his throat. "Have you heard about the women killings in Kyoto?"

Your eyebrows raise, curiosity piqued. "Yeah, I've heard. Pretty gruesome stuff. Why do you ask?"

A playful smile tugs at his lips. "How about a friendly competition? The killer's already taken six lives so far."

You tilt your head, your eyes narrowing slightly as you try to decipher his intentions. "What do you mean by a competition?"

Suguru leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "That's exactly what it sounds like. Who can hunt him down first?"

For a moment, you're taken aback, your eyes widening as you process his proposal. A mix of surprise and intrigue flickers across your face. "Are you serious?"

He chuckles, clearly enjoying your reaction. "As sin."

"And what do we get if we win?"

Suguru's eyes gleam with amusement and something else—admiration. "Bragging rights, of course. And maybe... another dinner like this one."

You throw your head back and let out a laugh. "Oh yeah? Who says I'll need you to get me another dinner?"

"Can't let you go hungry again. What do you say?”

~

You sit at your desk, the dim light of your laptop casting a pale glow on your face as you scroll through articles about the woman killer from Kyoto. The room is quiet, save for the occasional click of your mouse and the hum of the laptop. Your phone buzzes, and you glance at the screen to see Shoko’s name. With a smile, you answer the call.

"Hey Shoko, how’s your night shift?" you greet her with a teasing tone.

Shoko’s laugh crackles through the speaker. "Busy as always. Just patched up a guy who thought he could outsmart a bulletproof vest with sheer willpower. Spoiler: he couldn’t."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Sounds like my type of guy."

By day, Shoko is your best friend and a dedicated med student, excelling in her studies with a, albeit, half hearted, passion for helping others. But when the sun sets, she transforms into the notorious Dr. Reverse, the underground doctor every criminal and lowlife turns to in their time of need. Using her medical expertise, she serves those who cannot seek help through legal means, operating in the shadows and patching up criminals who live by a different set of rules. In addition to her medical skills, she also deals in poisons, further cementing her reputation in the underworld.

You first met Shoko in a moment of desperation. After cornering a serial rapist, you were attacked with a machete, almost severing your arm. With nowhere else to turn, you sought out Dr. Reverse. Shoko skillfully sewed you up and, in the process, deduced that you were the infamous Mute Collector. To your surprise, she didn't seem to care about your identity, and you, in turn, didn't question her underground business or her dealings with poison. This mutual understanding and acceptance laid the foundation for a strong bond, and you've been best friends ever since. 

Shoko laughed, a sound that always manages to lift your spirits. "Right? Anyway, what's up? I saw your SOS text."

You hesitate, glancing at the photo of Geto Suguru on your screen on a separate tab. His annoyingly white teeth glare back at you, and you try to resist staring at his six pack in an instagram photo someone took of him at a pool party.  His dark eyes seemed to stare right through you, as if mocking your indecision. "It's about Geto."

There was a brief pause before Shoko's voice came back, tinged with curiosity. "Geto? What about him?"

You take a deep breath, your fingers drumming nervously on the desk. "He's the Crucifier."

Shoko's reaction was immediate and loud. "Geto is what?" she practically yelled through the phone, causing you to wince.

"The Crucifier. I know." You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the absurdity of it all. "Can you believe it?"

Shoko let out a low whistle. "Wow. I mean, he always seemed like a guy with secrets, but I never pegged him for a serial killer, I mean, someone like you."

"Yeah, well, here we are," You mutter, rubbing your temples. You focus your attention back on your computer screen. Suguru is squeaky clean, not even a bad review on his website. There was only his questionable taste in best friends: Gojo Satoru—the biggest playboy and the infamous heir to the Gojo Company, Japan's largest and most influential corporation. Gojo's notoriety was legendary, his exploits plastered across tabloids and whispered in gossip circles. You’ve met, and been hit on by the man a few times, and not once did you fall for any of his slimy cheap antics. No, Geto Suguru is who your eyes fell on. 

 "And now he’s proposed some sort of competition."

"A competition?" Shoko's voice was practically dripping with amusement. "Like a hunting competition?”

You let out a snort of air through your nose. “Basically.”

Are you gonna do it?"

"I don't know," You admit, leaning forward and resting your chin on your hand. "I said I would, but I don't know. I barely know the guy. Well, I thought I did."

"Well, you should," Shoko said, her tone shifting to one of gentle teasing. "Besides, isn't this your chance to get closer to your crush?"

You feel your cheeks flush. "Shoko, seriously? Come on, that was ages ago."

"Hey, I'm just saying," she replies, laughter bubbling up again. "This could be your big break."

"You're impossible," you grumble, though you can't help but smile. "How's the side business, by the way?"

"Thriving," she says and you can practically see her small smile through the phone.. "You'd be amazed at how many people need a little untraceable something for their enemies."

"I don't doubt it," you say, shaking your head. "Just stay safe, okay?"

"You too, Mute Collector," Shoko says, her voice softening slightly. "And remember, if you ever need anything, you know where to find me."

"Always," you reply, your smile growing wider. "Thanks, Shoko. Talk to you soon."

"Later," she says, and the line goes dead.

You lean back in your chair again, your thoughts drifting back to Geto Suguru and the strange, dangerous world you both inhabit. As much as you hate to admit it, Shoko is right. This is your chance, not just to catch some sick killer, but to uncover the secrets that lie hidden beneath Suguru’s enigmatic exterior.

With a sigh, you close your laptop and stand up, determination settling in your chest. The competition awaits, and you have a feeling it's going to be a game changer.

~

“What’s got your panties in a twist?”

Suguru rolls his eyes at the white hair man’s mocking tone and continues to stare at his phone. It's been 10 minutes. How long does it take for someone to respond to a text. Suguru lay sprawled on the couch, his eyes fixed on his phone. Across the room, Gojo was bustling about in the kitchen, the sound of utensils clinking and food sizzling filling the air.

"Is this about Y/n? The Mute Collector or whatever?" Gojo asked, glancing over his shoulder with a mischievous grin.

Suguru didn't respond, his gaze unwavering from the screen. He could feel Gojo's eyes on him, the scrutiny almost tangible.

"I don't think I've seen you put this much effort into a woman since, like... ever," Gojo continued, his tone teasing. He turned back to his cooking, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement.

Suguru's jaw tightened, but he kept his silence. Gojo, undeterred, pressed on. "Besides the fact that she's the Mute Collector, what do you even see in Y/n? Well, I guess she does have other assets," he chuckled.

"Keep her name out of your fucking mouth, you prick," Suguru snapped, his voice low and menacing.

Gojo raised his hands in mock surrender, a laugh escaping his lips. "Alright, alright, no need to get all territorial."

Suguru continued to stare at his phone, his fingers hovering over the keys. "How long does it take for someone to respond to a fucking text" he mutters under his breath.

Gojo leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "Maybe she's busy. Or maybe she's just messing with you. You know, playing hard to get."

Suguru finally looks up, his eyes narrowing. "She doesn't play games. And she's not hard to get—she's hard to keep."

Gojo raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by Suguru's reaction. “Touchy, touchy,” he mutters, returning to his culinary task.

Just then, Suguru's phone pings. His heart skips a beat as he sees your name flash on the screen. He quickly opens the message, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he reads your response.

Y/n: Fine, I'll do it. But what are the details?

Suguru: Oh, I'm thrilled

Y/n: Shut up.

Suguru: The rules are simple: whoever deduces the monkey’s identity first and guts the bastard wins.

Y/n: And how do I know you don’t already have a head start?

Suguru: I guess you'll just have to trust me. 

Y/n: Trust you? That’s rich coming from someone who literally stabs people in the back.

Suguru lets out a snort of air from your comment catching Gojo’s attention. “Ah, there it is. The smile of a man who's finally gotten what he wants.”

Suguru doesn't dignify that with a response. Instead, he focuses on your message, feeling a grin grow on his lips.

Suguru: You wound me, truly. But where’s the fun without a little challenge? Besides, I wouldn’t want to make it too easy for you

Y/n: Easy, huh? I suppose you think you’re quite the genius, then?

Suguru: Only compared to the average monkey. You, on the other hand, might actually make this interesting.

Y/n: Is that a compliment or are you just trying to butter me up?

Suguru: Can’t it be both? 

Y/n: Oh, don't worry. You’re not the only one who enjoys a good chase. But don’t cry when I beat you at your own game.

Suguru: Cry? Please. I’ll be too busy admiring you in action. It’s a win-win for me.

Y/n: Flattery will get you nowhere, Suguru.

Suguru: Really?

Suguru: Not even a little bit princess 🥺?

Y/n: *One attachment*

You send an image of your hand flipping him off. Your middle finger nail is painted black and he assumes so are all your other fingers. His heart thuds against his chest. God, how he would love to have those nails dragging down his back. His dick twitches just thinking about it. 

Gojo snickers as if he can read Suguru’s thoughts and Suguru considers throwing his phone at the smug white hair man when Gojo’s phone rings. Any humor falls off Gojo’s features like snow from a shaken tree branch. He glances at the caller ID, his eyes narrowing, and picks up the phone with a serious tone.

“This is Gojo.” He says. His voice is gruff as he responds to the caller with clipped “yes” and “no” answers, his timbre low. “I'll be there in 30 minutes.” 

When he sets down the phone, Suguru meets his blue eyes, Gojo’s brief smile is grim.

“Trouble?” Suguru asks.

“Trouble.” Gojo repeats.

On the exterior Gojo is Japan's most infamous playboy and philanthropist. But by night he is the devil's tool, the country's most lethal assassin for anyone from politicians to presidents.  What Suguru and you do for a hobby, Gojo Satoru does for his job.

Gojo dumps his hot food in a container, grabs his hunting knife coat and bag and heads for the door. Before he exits, he turns around to lock eyes with Suguru.

“Be safe. A woman killer is a deadly combo.” He says.

Suguru chuckles, and for a second he doesn't know if Gojo’s talking about you or the guy in Kyoto. “You to ass hat.”  

~

You can't believe you are doing this. 

You can't believe that you took up Suguru’s competition, spent 120 dollars on a train and hotel room at Kyoto and an extra 20 on room service. Moreover you can't believe that you are here, hiding in a forest of bamboo shoots at the dead of night, watching some man who may or may not be the Kyoto women killer.

It’s a warm summer night, and every time the wind blows, the bamboo shoots rustle against each other, creating a haunting melody that sets your nerves on edge. The air is thick with the scent of earth and foliage, and the occasional hoot of an owl punctuates the silence. You’re crouched low, your body tense, watching a man named Noaya Zenin who you followed out here. He seems to be wandering aimlessly, but you know better than to underestimate him. The Zenin clan's reach is long and shadowy, and their involvement in the Kyoto women killings is a tangled web you’ve been unraveling. All key witnesses were either paid off by the Zenin clan or had lawyers representing them from the Zenin clan. The pattern was too precise to be a coincidence.

Your heart thuds in your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The thrill of the chase, the hunt, makes your senses sharper, every movement and sound more pronounced. You can feel the need creeping up on you, slowly reaching your brain until your skin itches with anticipation. 

Each minute feels like an eternity as you scrutinize Noaya’s every move. He stops occasionally, looking around as if sensing he’s being watched, and you hold your breath, pressing yourself closer to the ground. The moonlight filters through the dense bamboo, casting eerie shadows that dance with the wind. Your mind races, piecing together fragments of evidence and suspicion. If Noaya Zenin is indeed the killer, catching him here could be the breakthrough you need.

“Hiya.”

A scream almost rips through you when you feel someone's breath against your ear, but you quickly cover your mouth and whip around. Of course, you’re met face to face with the man you least wanted to see right now. Familiar hazel eyes gaze back at you, glinting with mischief and amusement. Suguru is crouched right next to you, his nose mere inches from yours, a sly smirk on his face. You didn’t even hear him approach.

“Suguru, what the fuck?” you hiss, keeping your voice low. Your first instinct is to grab your knife out of your pocket and press it against his throat but he holds both his hands up as if surrendering, stopping you.

“Woah woah princess, let's cool our engines.” He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying your reaction.

Your pulse is still racing, but you force yourself to calm down. “You could have given me a heart attack. How did you even find me?” You seethe.

“I have my ways,” he replies cryptically, his smirk widening. “Besides, I couldn’t let you have all the fun, now could I? So,” his eyes flicker to Noaya, who still seems to be staring at his phone. “Who are we looking at?”

“We?” You scoff and roll your eyes. “Are you kidding me? There is no we. This is a competition, remember? Go do your own research.”

Suguru raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh, come on. You know you love my company.”

Before you can retort, Noaya picks up his phone. You both strain to listen, and you catch his words clearly.

“Yeah, I’m at the bamboo forest. See you soon, babe.” He then hangs up the phone with a click and puts it back in his backpack. But just when you're about to turn back to Suguru and rip into the man, Noaya pulls something else out too. A hunting knife. A large one at that with serrated ends and a pointed tip that glints in the moon light. Just like the one used on the victims. And as if things couldn't get any more apparent, you watch as a wicked grin spreads across his face when he draws the blade diagonally through the air.

“Oh shit,” you whisper, eyes wide. “That’s definitely him. That’s like some comically evil villain shit right there.”

“Dibs,” Suguru whispers back, a glint of excitement in his eyes as he puts on his ghost mask. “I call fucking dibs.” He stands up, the crunch of leaves making Noaya whip around and stare right at the area you both hid in.

For a solid 5 seconds your two flabbergasted to even form words, you can only watch as Suguru steps out from the bamboo shoots and onto the trail, slowly walking toward Noaya like a lion cornering a gazelle. 

Or course, Noaya turns, screams like a little girl, and makes a hard right straight into the forest of bamboos.

“Oh hell no,” you mutter, leaping up and chasing after him. You sprint through the forest, the warm summer air thick and humid around you. Each footfall is muffled by the dense undergrowth, but the occasional snap of a twig or crunch of leaves marks your frenzied pace. Moonlight filters through the dense canopy, casting ghostly shadows that dance along the forest floor, creating an ever-shifting maze of light and dark.

Your breath comes in quick, controlled bursts, each inhale filling your lungs with the earthy scent of the forest. Adrenaline surges through your veins, sharpening your senses. The rhythmic pounding of your heart in your chest matches the rapid beat of your footsteps. Ahead, you can just make out the faint silhouette of Noaya, his panicked movements betraying his desperation.

Branches claw at your clothes and face, but you push through, eyes locked on your target. The thrill of the chase ignites every nerve, propelling you forward with a singular focus. Suguru’s presence is a constant just behind you, his footsteps a steady reminder of the competition driving you both. You can hear his breaths, steady and calculated, mirroring your own.

The path twists and turns, the bamboo growing thicker, creating a claustrophobic tunnel. You duck and weave, dodging low-hanging branches and vaulting over fallen logs. The forest floor is uneven, riddled with roots and hidden pitfalls, but your reflexes are sharp, your movements instinctual.

The thrill, the excitement, the danger—it all converges in this moment. You are a predator in your element, and your prey is within reach. The bamboo forest seems to blur around you, time stretching and contracting with each heartbeat. This is what you live for, the ultimate test of skill and nerve, the ultimate game of life and death.

Just as you’re about to close the distance, your fingertips brushing the fabric of Noaya’s shirt, he whirls around with surprising speed. The moonlight catches the gleam of his hunting knife as it arcs through the air. Instinct takes over, and you try to dodge, but the blade slices across your palm, leaving a hot, stinging line of red in its wake.

For a split second, time seems to slow. You see the wild desperation in Noaya’s eyes, the way his chest heaves with exertion and fear. But there’s no pain, only a white-hot fury that floods your veins, fueling your next move.

Your grip tightens around the hilt of your own knife, slick with blood but steady. The cut on your palm feels like a mere scratch compared to the surge of adrenaline that courses through you. With a fierce snarl, you lunge forward, using the momentum to drive Noaya back a step.

He stumbles, his confidence faltering as he realizes the severity of his mistake. You don’t give him a chance to recover. You move with a predatory grace, every muscle coiled and ready to strike. The forest around you fades into a blur of green and shadow, all your focus locked on the man in front of you.

Noaya swings wildly, his movements frantic and uncoordinated. You sidestep his attacks with practiced ease, your fury giving you a sharp, clear edge. The scent of blood mingles with the earthy aroma of the forest, and your pulse pounds in your ears like a war drum.

You close the distance again, this time with a calculated precision. Your free hand shoots out, grabbing his wrist and twisting it until the knife clatters to the ground. Noaya yelps in pain, his eyes widening in terror. The tables have turned, and he knows it.

Your injured hand, still bleeding, clamps down on his shoulder with a vice-like grip. You lean in close, your breath hot against his ear. “Nice try,” you hiss, the fury in your voice making him shudder. “But it’s over.”

With a swift, brutal motion, you plunge your knife into his chest. The blade sinks into flesh with a sickening thud, and Noaya's eyes widen in shock and agony. Blood spurts from the wound, hot and sticky, spraying across your face in a macabre mist. The initial strike is met with a gasp, a desperate, choking sound that fuels the savage fire within you.

A wicked grin spreads across your face, the thrill of dominance electrifying your senses. You pull the knife out, feeling the resistance of tissue and bone, and then plunge it in again, and again. Each thrust is accompanied by a wet, squelching sound, a symphony of carnage that drowns out the world around you. Blood flows freely, pooling at your feet and soaking into the earth.

Noaya’s body jerks and spasms with each stab, his strength fading with every violent assault. His once panicked eyes grow dull, the life draining from them as you continue your relentless attack. The coppery tang of blood fills the air, mingling with the scent of the forest, creating a heady mixture that makes your pulse race even faster.

You lose yourself in the rhythm of the violence, the way your muscles strain and flex with each plunge of the knife. Blood splatters across your face and clothes, warm and viscous, painting you in the evidence of your victory. Your grin widens, a feral expression of triumph and fury.

Amidst your frenzied stabbings, Suguru places a hand on your shoulder. "I think—" he begins, but when you turn around to face him he immediately shuts up.

Your eyes are wide, pupils contracted like a deranged predator. Your hair flows wildly in the wind as you grab Suguru's throat with your bloody hand, smearing the crimson on his skin and pressing him against a tree. 

"This woman-killer fucker is mine." You seethe.

His dick strains against his cargo pants waistband. You look divine.

“ Of course, All yours baby.” He coos.

~

Geto Suguru would be lying if he said that watching you tear apart that woman-killer wasn't the hottest thing he had ever seen. 

To Suguru, you looked divine. The moonlight accentuated the sharp angles of your face, casting shadows that danced across your blood-splattered skin. Your eyes, wild with the remnants of fury, glowed with an unearthly intensity. The contrast of crimson against your complexion made you seem otherworldly, a dark goddess of vengeance. Suguru couldn’t tear his eyes away, mesmerized by the raw, primal beauty you exuded in that moment.

The walk back to your hotel was silent, but not because you were soaked in blood or because he felt awkward. More like it was because the only think he could think to say is “You are so fucking hot.”

Now here he is, twiddling his thumbs as he stands outside of your hotel door, trying to think of the right thing to say to you because god he needs to see your face one last time before he goes to bed.

He raises his hand to knock, but before he can, the door swings open. You stand there, your hair wet and smelling faintly of vanilla. You’ve clearly just come out of the shower. A tank top clings to your damp skin, and sports shorts hug your thighs. His eyes widen slightly, and he gulps, struggling to keep his composure. 

No bra.

The sight makes his mouth go dry.

"Just checking to see if everything is good," he says, nodding toward your bandaged hand.

You feel yourself fidget in your place and you try to flash a small smile but your emotions betray you. What if you freaked him out? What he saw back there, what you did back there, that was you, the raw you. Behind all the layers of kind smiles and pleasantries, in many ways, you were no different than an animal, consumed by your predatory instincts. You wouldn't blame him if he never contacted you again after this. Shit, did you just fuck up everything?

 His presence fills the doorway, and you’re acutely aware of the tension between you two.

“Yeah, everything���s fine,” you reply, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Thanks for asking.”

His eyes flicker down to your hand, then back up to meet yours. “How’s the hand?” he asks, genuine concern in his voice.

You hold it up and wiggle your fingers slightly. “It’ll heal. No big deal.”

Silence fills the void between you two and you clear your throat, searching for something to say to break the awkward silence, but he beats you to it.

“Mind if I come in?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans against the doorframe. “Or are you planning to keep all the fun out here in the hallway?”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Sure, come in. But I warn you, it’s a mess.”

“I’m sure I can handle it,” he quips, stepping inside. His eyes scan the room, taking in the organized chaos. Bandages and clothes are scattered around the floor and he doesn't miss the splatter of blood on the white sheets of the hotel bed. After a moment, Suguru turns around and takes a step closer to you, like he’s examining you. 

You tilt your head slightly, letting a smirk play on your lips. "So, now that I’ve won the bet, what do I get?"

He chuckles, the sound low and smooth, as he takes another step closer, closing the distance between you. "I was wondering when you’d bring that up." 

You arch an eyebrow, trying to keep your composure despite the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. "Well? I’m waiting. What’s my prize?"

Suguru stops just inches from you. "I don’t know," he quips, "What do you want?"

You let out a short laugh, though it’s clear you’re testing him now. "That’s a big question."

Suguru's eyes darken slightly, his playful demeanor shifting into something more serious, more intense. He leans in just a fraction, his breath warm against your skin. "Try me."

The tension between you two is palpable, electric. You’re the first to break the silence, your voice quieter now, almost hesitant. "I want," you pause, averting your gaze from Suguru’s hawkish one. “I want to know if I scared you.” The question slips out before you can stop it, your bravado faltering as doubt creeps in.

Suguru blinks, then a slow smile spreads across his face. "Scare me?" He repeats, as if the idea itself is laughable. He steps even closer, forcing you to take a step back until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed. "Scare me?” He repeats again. “You didn’t scare me," he continues, his voice low and sincere. "You… captivated me. I have never, and I mean never, seen something so magnificent as what you did. And that's saying a lot because I've done a shit ton of magnificent things.”

You sit down on the bed, more out of necessity than choice, as he looms over you. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you feel a mix of emotions—relief, curiosity, and something much more dangerous.

"What are you doing?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as he leans in, his hands resting on either side of you, trapping you in place.

He smiles, a slow, almost wicked grin that sends shivers down your spine. "Well, I thought I might kiss you now, you know, after telling you how magnificent you are.” He tilts his head. “Is that a bad idea?"

Your breath catches in your throat as the weight of his words sinks in. You forget to breathe.

You finally find your voice, though it’s a bit shakier than you’d like. "That depends…"

"On?" He asks, his face inching closer to yours, his gaze locked onto your lips.

"On how good you are at it," you murmur.

He doesn’t need any more encouragement. Suguru closes the remaining distance, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s as intense as it is tender. It’s a slow, deliberate connection, his hands moving to cradle your face as if you’re something precious, something worth savoring.

The kiss deepens, and all the tension that had been building between you two finally snaps, leaving nothing but raw desire in its wake. You respond in kind, your hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as if you can’t get enough.

When you finally pull apart, both of you are breathless, and the world seems to have shrunk down to just the two of you in this moment. Suguru’s forehead rests against yours, and he smiles, a real, genuine smile that you can feel in your bones.

"So," he says, his voice husky and low. "How was that?"

You laugh softly, still trying to catch your breath. "Not bad," you admit, your fingers running through his black hair. "Not bad at all."

"Good," he replies, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a kiss. "Because I plan on doing it again."

Suguru’s lips are on yours again before you can even catch your breath, this time more insistent, more demanding. He’s not asking for permission anymore; he’s claiming what he wants, and it makes your head spin. The kiss deepens as his tongue slips past your lips, exploring your mouth with a slow, deliberate intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. You can taste him—warm, intoxicating—and you find yourself leaning into his lips, craving more.

His hand, warm and firm, slides down your side, tracing the curve of your waist before coming to rest between your thighs. The touch is electrifying, sending a jolt of sensation through you, and you gasp against his mouth, your heart pounding in your chest.

But it’s too much, too fast. Your mind races, and you instinctively pull back, breaking the kiss. “Wait,” you murmur, your voice breathless, “I dont know if we should….” You avert your gaze and turn your head toward the wall but Suguru grabs your chin, forcing you to look right into his hazel eyes. Then, he dips his head to whisper in your ear.

“Aw come one Y/n” He grazes your earlobe with his teeth. “I’ve been on my best behavior, a good boy,” Suguru pauses to deliver a soft kiss to your temple. “I've been waiting, waiting ever since I met you in that cage to do this. Don't I deserve a reward for my patience?” 

You thickly gulp as he rubs the sides of your neck with his lips.

“I’ve been-” He kisses your jaw. “Such a-” he kisses his way up to your mouth. “Good boy.”

You cave. 

As his words sink in, you feel your resolve crumbling, the weight of his desire pressing down on you in the most intoxicating way. Before you can even process what’s happening, Suguru's strong arms wrap around you, lifting you off the bed with effortless ease. His grip is firm but gentle, as if he's afraid of breaking you, and you can't help but let out a soft gasp as he lifts you off the bed and up so your head rests on the plush hotel pillow. His eyes lock onto yours, dark with intent, and you feel your breath hitch as the world narrows down to just the two of you. The room is filled with the sound of your breathing, heavy and uneven, mingling with the quiet rustle of sheets as he leans over you.

“I know you have been thinking about this too.” He coos. Suguru’s hands move with a deliberate slowness, as if savoring the moment. His fingers curl around the hem of your tank top, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he begins to lift it. The cool air hits your skin as he pulls the fabric up and over your head, exposing you to his hungry gaze. But before you can feel self-conscious, his lips are on your newly exposed skin, pressing gentle kisses along your collarbone, his warm breath fanning over your skin.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice filled with awe and reverence. “Just so gorgeous.”

His hands are on your shorts next, tugging them down your hips with the same careful slowness, as if he’s unwrapping the most precious gift. As the fabric slips down your legs, he trails kisses along the newly exposed skin, his lips brushing against your thighs, your knees, your calves, until the shorts are discarded on the floor.

Now you’re lying before him in just your underwear, and the way he looks at you makes your heart pound. His eyes are dark and intense, filled with a hunger that makes your entire body flush with heat. “You’re gorgeous,” he repeats, his voice thick with emotion. “Just so damn gorgeous.”

Suguru straightens up slightly, his hands moving to the hem of his own shirt. In one fluid motion, he pulls it over his head and tosses it aside, revealing his bare chest. The sight of him makes your breath catch—his body is lean and athletic, muscles defined and sculpted from years of discipline and training. Tattoos cover his skin in an elaborate tapestry. He’s handsome, impossibly so, and the sight of him like this, just inches away, makes your pulse quicken.

He doesn’t stop there. His fingers move to the waistband of his sweatpants, and he slides them down, revealing more of his skin, his strong legs, until he’s kneeling before you in just his boxers. The fabric clings to him in a way that leaves little to the imagination, and you can’t help but stare, mesmerized by the sheer physicality of him.

Suguru catches your gaze, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Something catches your eye princess?”

You nod, “Yes. You. All of you.” Your eyes tracing every line and curve of his body. He’s more than just handsome—he’s breathtaking, a perfect combination of strength and beauty that leaves you feeling weak in the best way possible.

He leans down again, his body hovering over yours, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Good, wouldn't want you to be disappointed.”

With that, he captures your lips in a heated kiss, his hands trailing down your sides, touching, feeling, exploring. 

You are too lost in the kiss not to notice his hands slipping under your underwear and making their way to your dripping cunt, and when they do, you jump at the feeling of his index finger tracing your slit.

"Gotta get you ready baby.?" Suguru hums and you shake you head vigorously.

"No please Sugu~, I can take it."

You don't have to tell him twice.

In one fluid motion Suguru tears off your underwear, lays you on your back and positions himself between your legs.

"Been waiting to do this for so long," he murmurs as he pulls down his boxers and whips out his dick. You thickly gulp at the sight, you could've guessed he was big not this big, could he even fit in you? A white bead of precum dribbled from his pretty pink tip and down his length and he uses the liquid to stroke himself in a few fluid motions.

You could hear your heart in your ears and adrenaline coursed through your veins at rocket fire speed. The need in between your legs was too much, it was clouding your head and twisting your stomach so tight you almost felt sick. You jolt when his fat tip bumps into your clit; collecting your juices before pressing against your quivering hole.

"Suguru please~" You whine and nearly miss the way his ears go bright red at your words

"I know baby, I know. Don't worry, lift your hips for me love?”

You oblige and immediately when you do so you're struck with the feeling of his length spreading you so helplessly wide and his tip smashing against something which must be your cervix you think. It’s painful, but in the pain is so much pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours as he slides into you, gripping the sheets with his supporting hand as your hot, wet entrance swallows his cock. Instinctively, you're cunt squeezed around the foreign intrusion, trying to push it out, making Suguru let out a low groan of his own and pushing even deeper into you. 

“F-fuck I can feel you doing it to me,” he said hoarsely.

His fingers gently press into the skin of your hip, guiding and steadying you as he pulls back and thrusts into you. The sudden friction and collision with your G-spot knocks the wind out of your lungs. Ticklish pleasure courses through your veins and you immediately throw your head back against the wall as Suguru thrusts into you.

"Hnghh, s-so good~~" You whine. It was dizzying, the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up.

Simultaneously, his other hand sought yours, finding it with a purposeful tenderness. His fingers intertwined with yours, locking them together in a grip that was both a clasp and a caress.

You dont even realize that your eyes are closed until Suguru whispers into your ear.

“Come on baby, open those pretty eyes, look at me.”

You do as he says and when you do you feel your heart thud in your chest. Suguru’s eyes were fixated completely on you, how you were reacting, as his hips were continuously slamming into your body as if it were clockwork. The sight alone had your walls clamping down on him, earning a groan from the base of his chest. 

Suddenly, the hand that had been intertwined with yours released its grip and began to rummage through Suguru’s discarded pants. Your breath hitched, eyes glazed over as you watched him retrieve a knife from his pocket, unsheathing it effortlessly with a flick of his finger. The sharp glint of the blade caught your attention from beneath Suguru’s body, even as he continued thrusting into you, not missing a beat.

Your body reacted instinctively, clenching at the sight, drawing a low, dark chuckle from Suguru.

“Hah, I knew it,” he said, his voice laced with a teasing edge as he brought the cold steel to the base of your throat. “You’re just a slut for knives, aren’t you?”

A moan escaped your lips, the sound betraying any chance of denial. Suguru took it as an admission, pressing the blade firmly against the skin of your throat as he angled his hips to hit even deeper inside you. The cool metal at your throat was electrifying, but it was his other hand, strong and unyielding, that sent a euphoric thrill coursing through you. His fingers flexed, tightening around your neck, the pressure intensifying.

It wasn’t just the air being cut off—it was the dizzying, intoxicating pleasure that came with it. The way his grip constricted, pushing you to the edge of control, ignited something raw inside. Every squeeze of his hand made your body burn hotter, a perfect balance between pain and pleasure, leaving you gasping for more.

What a primal dirty sight you where, being choked with a blade against your throat while fucked brutaly. Even the devil would clutch his rosaries.  

"Were we doing it like this in your head baby?" Suguru grunts, his Adam apple bobs as he groans from the pleasure of how fucking heavenly your pussy feels. “Because we were doing it like this in mine.” Good? Try euphoric, how could he ever think his fist could substitute the wet squeeze of your cunt?

You can't even open your mouth to respond. The friction of his dick against your walls and the adrenaline from the knife is just too good and as his pace intensified, a dizzying warmth spread through you, filling every corner of your being with a euphoric haze. The sensation of being completely enveloped, utterly connected, sent electric flesh arrows of pleasure through your body, making your eyes flutter and roll back slightly in sheer bliss. Every motion Suguru makes, every time his fat tip collides with your cervix, leaves behind a trail of sparkling heat that seems to light you from within.

"Come on eyes on me when I fuck you baby~" Suguru releases his hold from your neck and snakes his fingers between your body , finding your clit and pressing down on the pearl back and forth with the pad of index finger. "Tell me how good you feel, tell me how badly you want to cum.

He doesn’t slow the ministrations on your clit for a second as he snaps his hips into you with primal vigor, your breasts bouncing from the brutality.

"So good Sugu!" You sob. You cant even open your eyes from the colors you're seeing behind your lids. Every time your pussy squeezes around him not only do bolts of pleasure shoot up your body but a ring of milky white cum forms around the base of his cock.

Suguru’s eyes are locked on how good you're taking him - the fat of his head has a hard time popping out with how greedy your cunny is being. He lets out a sharp moan at how wet you are on the inside.

"S-shit baby wanna feel you cum on me, been waiting so long." Suguru is not a whining man but here he is practically stumbling over his words. Fuck, he wants to keep himself inside you forever. He wants your kisses, your skin, your touch, your blood, your lips, to be his to claim until you die together. No one has seen, truly seen him, before you. You are what he thinks about when he wakes up, when he is eating, when he is plunging his knife into some worthless monkey. You are his goddess. 

The world beyond this intimate cocoon of warmth and breath seemed distant, irrelevant. His gaze was locked with yours, deep and unwavering, a silent communication that tethered you through the mind numbing ecstasy.

Then, he reels his hips back and slams into you in a new angle that has your body jerking.

“Found it didn't I?” He breathes through a smile and pummels into you with vigor. And your about to disagree with him, insist that the feeling is too new and foreign to feel good when all of a sudden your body begins to shake and your head starts to feel fuzzy

And suddenly—you feel it. What you’ve been craving for and what you have seen in porn.

Its like all your body's energy centers are activating at once and your left utterly helpless to the feeling of tingling ecstasy wrapping your brain and stomach.

You dont know how to tell him that something is happening, not when the pleasure is too immense your barely breathing full breaths. But he understands once again the words you tried desperately to communicate.

“Do it baby. Cum. I’ll fill you up, and if it spills I'll fuck it back into you"

So you do.

Release washed over you in an all-encompassing wave, radiating out from your core to the very tips of your fingers and toes. It swept through you like a storm, leaving a trail of starbursts in its wake. Your body arched instinctively, clinging to Suguru as the wave crested, then gently, slowly, began to ebb.

“Ah, princess, please,” he moaned. “Be a good girl and take it all, yeah?” 

Your fingers trailed up his shoulder, only to drag them back down his spine, nails biting into his skin as he buried himself deep inside you, releasing with a powerful shudder. His movements grew erratic, hips pressing yours firmly into the mattress as his hot breath skimmed across your neck, ragged and heavy.

The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this moment, lost in each other, with nothing but the sound of your breathing and the feel of his touch to guide you.

The warmth of his cum spreads through your body with a shiver, and you can feel the liquid expanding against your walls while he kept you plugged and full of him. As you both floated back down from the heights of bliss, your breaths came easier, softer, the lingering aftershocks of pleasure pulsing gently through you.

"You're mine ok?" Suguru coos, and all you can do is dumbly nod.

"I'll die for you, I'll kill a thousand monkeys for you, i'll hold them down so you can cut our their eyes. Just stay by my side."

[gguk-n]

She's Not Afraid (Lando Norris x Reader)

Series Masterlist

When Lando had first shown interest in Y/N, all his friends had told him she wasn't the one for him. Lando didn't have the best image as is, and trying to date someone who didn't want to be tied down was rough. He soon realised he was head over heels for her and she would barely even hold his hand in public. At first Lando didn't think much of it and jotted it down to her being more reserved and probably needing more time. But as time passed by, Lando realised she would do anything but be romantically associated with him.

It hurt Lando watching her treat anyone and everyone the same way she treated him when they were out; when Lando was bending over backwards for her. It wasn't only his friends and family who had noticed but the fans had started to notice as well. People had started sending her hate as usual which pushed her away further.

The only time she was even remotely affectionate was in the bedroom and that too had gone down since they barely saw each other. It was gnawing at Lando's mind and heart; he couldn't bare this. His thoughts were completely occupied by thoughts of her. He spent most of his time either trying to get in touch with her or thinking of her. The only time he would know what she was up to was through friends.

Lando thought he was bad when it came to commitment, turns out he hadn't even seen the worst. If he was lucky, he would sometimes run into her at the club, drinking and dancing. Only while inebriated would she let Lando near her in public, even going as far as to show him affection. This would send him into a spiral, thinking about the what ifs and at first he thought she was finally ready to commit and than she'd ignore him like last night never happened. He was losing his mind; he couldn't eat. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't think. She had stopped showing up to races which was the one place he got to see her without her trying to run away.

Months of thinking and breaking his heart over all the possibilities, he decided to set the record straight. He had tried to get her to come over a few times before she agreed. When Y/N reached, Lando had ordered take out. They sat down and ate their meal in quite; while Lando's heart was beating out of his chest thinking about what he would say to her. He had thought of all the possibilities on how he'd start the conversation. He did however not imagine blurting out, "Do you hate me?" He almost comically slammed a hand on his mouth. She looked at him bemused.

He took a moment to collect himself, " Why won't you officially date me?" he asked. She sighed, "I don't do well with relationships" she stated. "But I like you...no I love you" Lando said. "I know, that's what scares me" she muttered. "It shouldn't" he said taking her hand in his. "It's a good thing" he continued. "I know. But I've been hurt before and I can't imagine giving my heart to some one like" she trailed off. "Like what?" he asked. "Someone who goes places and sees people. I don't want you to feel tied or bound." she explained. "I want to be bound by you, in more ways than one" he chuckled. Y/N hit his shoulder. "Muppet" she mumbled. "Please let me in. I want to know what it is to love you and be loved by you" Lando said. Her shoulders slumped, "I want to know too" she replied, looking him in the eye. Lando closed the gap between, holding her face in his hands. "can I?" he asked. She nodded and the pair kissed. When Lando pulled away, "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked. "Yeah" she smiled at him, "But if I start acting strange, cut me some slack" she spoke. "Noted" Lando said making a note to himself.

[amen-to-tiddies]

MOOOOREEE I NEED MORE MARKIPLIER IM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE

Dumb, Big, and Absolutely Wrecking You in Public

Top Mark x Male Bottom Reader

Other Mark Fic: Dumb, Big, and Fucking you Senseless List of the fun stuff:

Shameless Smut, Dumb Himbo Mark, Size Difference, Public Humiliation, Vibrating Butt Plug, Overstimulation, Alleyway Sex, Weak-from-Pleasure Reader, Rough Manhandling, Desperate Orgasms, Dumbification, Clueless Mark Being Too Rough, Praise Kink (Receiving), Helpless Reader, Cock-Drunk, Breeding, Cum as Lube, No Aftercare Because Mark is Dumb as Bricks but Loves You.

It was supposed to be simple, you just wanted to try out something new.

And all he had was one rule. One tiny, VERY important little rule.

“Mark, whatever you do, don’t turn it past fifty in public, okay?”

even that was pushing it...

But of course, the himbo motherfucker wasn’t even listening. Nodding along with that cocky little smirk, flexing his massive arms like a dumbass, probably daydreaming about some random horror game he was gonna play later instead of focusing on the very, very crucial information you were trying to drill into his thick skull.

And now look at you.

Legs trembling, fingers clutching onto his bicep like a lifeline, the soft whirring of the plug inside you growing stronger, hotter, devastating.

this was way fucking more than 50%.

Mark was barely paying attention, just swinging your intertwined hands like the lovesick idiot he was, oblivious to the way your entire body was quaking, how your breath hitched with every step, how your thighs squeezed together in a desperate attempt to keep your composure.

“Man, this is nice, huh?” he said, totally unaware of the absolute torment you were in. “Just you, me, a nice lil’ walk through town, some fresh air-”

You nearly collapsed right there in the middle of the street when the plug adjusted and the vibrations pulsed straight into your weak spot.

Mark caught you easily, confused as hell. “Whoa, hey babe, what’s wrong? You sick or somethin’?”

You could barely think, barely breathe. Your voice came out strangled but hushed. “Mark- turn it- turn it down-”

“Huh?”

You gritted your teeth, fingers digging into his forearm. “The fucking- the-fucking-plug.”

Mark’s eyes went wide. And then, the bastard laughed.

“Ohhhh, that’s what’s got you all squirmy! Shit, babe, why didn’t you say anything?” He grinned, all easygoing and clueless. “I thought you were just having fun.”

“Mark, I swear to God-”

Before you could even finish the sentence, another wave of pleasure shot through you, making you whimper right there in broad daylight, and Mark’s grin got wider.

“Oh, shit. Oh, babe.” He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. “Are you, like… getting off right now?”

Your breath hitched. Your body jerked against him. You could barely keep yourself upright.

Mark’s eyes darkened, gaze flicking down to where your legs were clenching, where your fingers were practically clawing into his skin, how utterly helpless you looked beneath him.

And then, the idiot did the unthinkable.

He pressed the remote in his pocket.

Full power.

You gasped- a high, broken sound- and then you were gone.

Your knees buckled, body giving out as the vibrations tore through you, devastating, overwhelming. Your orgasm slammed into you out of nowhere, stealing the breath from your lungs, making you jerk and tremble like a fucking ragdoll. Your legs nearly gave out right there on the sidewalk, barely able to hold yourself up, barely able to stop yourself from making an absolute scene-

Mark was quick, moving fast, sweeping you into his arms like you weighed nothing.

“Shit, okay, okay, I gotcha,” he murmured, suddenly all protective, cuddling you up against his chest like a hero rescuing a damsel in distress. He waited for you to recover and then leaned in, his voice was laced with a sudden hunger. “Fuck, babe. You just came in public? That’s kinda hot.”

You barely registered being shoved into the shadows of an alleyway, your whole body still twitching, spent, ruined.

But Mark wasn’t done with you yet.

He pressed you against the brick wall, eyes glinting, so goddamn big above you, crowding you in with his sheer size.

And then his fingers trailed down past your pants, brushing between your legs, feeling the mess you’d made of yourself.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, awe-struck. “You’re still shaking.”

His cock was already hard, tenting against his jeans, pressed right up against you.

“Fuck babe I'm not gonna lie... I kinda wanna see you do that again.”

And before you could protest, before you could even think, he was turning the plug back on, watching as your body broke all over again.

He grinned as you whined, as you pleaded, as your eyes rolled back, the plug was in the most perfect fucking spot to where it just pulsed, throbbed and vibrated right against your g-spot leaving you weak, helpless and sagging against the wall all under marks huge frame.

you felt humiliated and mark was living for it.

You felt humiliated, and Mark was living for it.

He reached down, palm warm and rough as he cupped you through your soaked pants. “Goddamn, babe, you’re dripping,” he groaned, voice thick with need. His fingers now sliding down your waistband and wrapping around you, stroking slow, teasing, milking every bit of slick that pooled at the tip.

“Mark-” you whimpered, but it was useless.

“Shhh, just let me,” he whispered “Fuck, you’re so messy already, baby.”

He worked you over, jerking you off with slow, deliberate strokes, collecting every drop of cum and slick on his fingers until his whole palm was covered in it. wasn't long before he was slinging his jeans and boxers below his crotch and smearing the collected slick down the length of his cock, groaning at the feel of it. the dumb fuck had just worked 2 of the most leg shaking orgasms out of you.. was he really about to fuck you now? you're question was answered by mark spinning you around and tugging your pants and boxers

“Shit, babe, look at that,” he whispered, rubbing his tip against your entrance, pushing past the resistance. “You’re already so stretched out from the plug, bet I could just- push right in-”

no patience for this himbo. he did it as soon as he said it.

You sobbed as he sank in deep, so big, so thick, stretching you open somehow even more until you swore you could feel him in your fucking stomach.

“Fuck,” Mark groaned, hands gripping your hips, shoving you hard against the brick wall. “Goddamn, baby, you’re taking it so good.”

You could barely speak, barely breathe, barely do anything but whimper and whine and let Mark fuck you like you were made for it.

Mark’s pace was relentless, hips slamming against yours, every thick, brutal thrust forcing choked-out whimpers from your lips. His grip was firm, fingers digging into your hips as he held you in place, letting out a deep, satisfied groan every time you clenched around him.

“God, babe- fuck- you’re my best boy, y’know that?” His voice was breathless, awe-struck, like he was witnessing something divine. “Shit, the bestest boy of all.”

You could barely respond, barely think, too lost in the overwhelming pleasure of this mans huge dick just pounding your prostate.

Mark let out a dazed little laugh and pulled you up so could thrust that cock in even deeper. pressing a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder “You love this, huh?” His words were stifled with dirty grunts and deep moans that made your body shiver in his huge arms, but his words were so damn soft. “God, you feel so good- so goddamn perfect for me.”

His hips stuttered for a second, like he was trying to hold back, trying to savor it, but the way you squeezed around him had his restraint snapping in half.

“Shit, babe, look at you,” he groaned, running a huge, calloused hand down your stomach, feeling the way he stretched you from the inside. “So fuckin’ beautiful- God, I love you.”

His other hand slid between your legs, fingers teasing, giving slow, lazy strokes. “Best fuckin’ baby,” he murmured. “Nobody else could take me like this. yknow that?"

You let out a collage of unholy sounding whimpers synced with each thrust of his cock barely able to stay standing, and Mark fucking melted more at each one.

“fuckin perfect, yknow that? you're so perfect,” he cooed, pressing kisses along your jaw, completely obsessed, completely gone. “You’re takin’ everything I give you- such a good boy for me.”

He pulled your head sideways just enough to see your expression, eyes hooded, lips parted, your whole body weak with pleasure. The sight alone nearly made him lose it.

“Fuck, baby." he groaned, voice thick with adoration. “I'm gonna..”

Pushing his cock as deep as he could the man released rope after rope coating your insides and filling you up until you were leaking his cum even with his cock still inside you. this insanely hot feeling brought you well over the edge for your third orgasm of the day.

"That's my boy" the man still in his state of euphoria gave you a big ol' hickey right on the side of your neck "I'll try getcha cleaned up"

[msbyslilbimbo]

oh to be high with kenma in the rare instance he's off stream, and you guys don't last three mario kart maps before you're going at it like rabbits ://

he's always been a lousy pervert when he's high, getting hard and needy from you even remotely looking at him; its part of the reason you're playing the damn wii right now, if he focuses too hard on you, he’s done for.

but kenma's coordination always flies out the window when he's stoned, and he grunts in frustration as your koopa troopa passes his funky kong after he slipped on a banana peel, desperate to ignore your judgmental laughter.

"s okay baby," you tease, "not everyone can be as good of a gamer as me."

"i get paid to be a gamer for a living, you just got lucky with that banana."

"or maybe," you start to purr, and he grimaces and his cheeks flush as from the corner of his red eyes, he sees you're crawling towards him, your own bloodshot eyes looking at him hungrily. he swallows thickly, and his dick twitches in his joggers. "im just really good at distracting you."

"you wish."

"and you're so hard you're practically shaking at the idea of your cock down my throat."

his adams apple bobs as he gnaws on his lip, dick in fact twitching at the idea.

but he moans when you attach your lips to his neck, and he hisses softly when you bite his jugular. a hand comes up to cradle the nape of your neck, coaxing you to keep kissing him. "you sure," you say against his now bruising flesh. "cause i saw king kong fly off the map."

"funky kong," he whimpers.

"you want me to blow you or not?" you scoff against him, and he nods desperately. your hand moves to pull his dick out past the waistband of his sweats and before taking him fully, you spit on your palm and grip him gently in your fist, stroking him to full hardness. your head wasting no time in ducking to take him in your mouth, tongue swirling around his flushed tip before being able to bob your head up and down.

"f-uck," he pants, head lulling back while his entire body trembles in a chill at the first feeling of your hot mouth on his cock. his chest heaves to take in air that got stolen from him when you first wrapped your lips around him. his hands nearly drop the controller onto your head, and he quickly discards it, the plastic crashing to the floor as he flexes his hands into fists, searching desperately for a place to relax them so he doesn't pathetically push your head in search of pleasure. his jaw opens wide enough it cracks.

you hum against him, vibrations tingling through his soul and making his shoulders shake. each time you move your head, you take him deeper, getting closer to his base where the nerves light up the rarest and shoot straight to his tip that grazes the back of your throat. all his nerves are fixated on your movements, and god the way you gag around him is delicious, he feels it in his toes causing them to curl.

you reel your head back and jerk him with your tightened grip, lubed with your spit and pearled precum that your lips smeared, popping your mouth off of him like a lollipop, "aren't you gonna finish the race?" you ask, and kenma looks at you with glassy eyes.

your hand stops. he pathetically ruts his hips up for more. "since im not a distraction, go finish the race." you smirk cruelly and blink innocently, "i'll edge you until you do."

he shakes his head rapidly, clearly lost in a haze of pleasure to verbalize is distain for that idea. you thumb at his slit, "then you better get driving and focus on your last two laps baby."

he gives you a petulant pout and trembling hands grab the wii steering wheel and start up funky kong's engine again, trying to focus on the windy course despite the tightening of your throat around him. he sinks his teeth back into his lip to distract himself, trying to shroud the pleasure in the sharp pain of his teeth piercing his lip.

you were cruel.

a thumb at his frenulum sent his catapulting over the edge.

a wad of spit on his pulsing slit had him spinning wildly.

jerking him with your fist had his eyes screwing shut and smearing his overstimulated tears around long eyelashes.

it takes him nearly 20 minutes, according to the game clock, for him to finish, victory music making you hum once again after a slurp of his dick.

with new marks on his now swollen lips and knuckles tense from holding the steering wheel, beads of sweat forming at his hairline and balls tight enough to bust the second they get permission, kenma finally finishes his race, cockhead throbbing from the stimulation you'd give, then take away at the worst time, right before he came. "i won," he whimpered, voice broken from wails and raspy grunts. "c'n i cum?"

"welllll," you purr after pulling your warm mouth of of him. he groans in agony. "you were so good, didn't know if you wanted to cum in my mouth, or my pussy."

you are truly cruel.

"fuck-"

"well?" you ask, slinging your leg up and over his waist. he feels your heat through your panties, and with the subtle friction of fabric brushing against his dick, kenma cums, he cums right between you both, grunting furiously as his entire body spasms. you gasp as it splatters over your hand and thighs, kenma's quick breathing interrupting the music in the background.

you smile lean down to kiss him, swallowing his whimpers and coaxing them past his bruised lips, thighs tightening around his slender hips. "that was so hot," you giggle.

"thank you," he whispers.

you peck him once again before pulling back, mischief in your gaze. "but you didn't pick one for me, kenma."

he sniffles. you squeeze the base of his cock.

"guess we'll have to start over. i won't distract you- i promise."

you're smirking.

[camzeecorner]

𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙸𝚂 𝚂𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙾𝙻𝙾 ₊˚ෆ 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒

smut ღ dividers → @bernardsbendystraws ฅ^._.^ฅ

𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚢!𝚌𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜 𐙚

The day at work was filled with chaos, with rude customers adding to the already stressful day. My feet throbbed with every step, and a dull, persistent pain gnawed at my lower back. Each time I got sent back with the same plate, the complaints echoed in my ears, "The food is too cold," or "This isn't what I ordered", which only caused my frustration to grow. The relentless cycle of dissatisfaction seemed never-ending, it wearing down my patience and energy.

For the past ten minutes, I had been closing out earlier checks from customers who had long since left. The rush had finally slowed, and a calm began to settle over the place. As I finished closing each and every check and logged out of the computer, sighing deeply I leaned my head down, resting it in the palms of my hands. Closing my eyes, I hum lowly silently savoring the small moment of peace the universe had granted me. Just as I went to sit down, the sound of the door opening made me peek up slightly. Instead of the dissatisfied customer I were hoping to leave, my eyes met the sight of five boys, each clad in hockey jerseys and sweatpants. Mentally rolling my eyes, I had to braced myself for the next wave. Grabbing my torn up notepad, I began walking towards them, ready to sit them and take their orders.

“Hi there boys, table for five?” I asked, putting on the fakest smile I could. I scanned around the group taking them all in. They all looked remotely close to my own age. Maybe slightly younger. They all nodded, as I turned on my heels and began walking off. I turned my head to the side and motioned for them to follow me.

I sat them more towards the back corner, which is usually where our bigger parties went. They thanked me and began having their own discussions which gave me time to finish setting their table. I walked off grabbing theirs menus and utensils, bringing them back placing one of each item politely in front of them. I swiftly checked the wall clock seeing I only had 1 more hour of my shift. I smiled lightly and brought my attention back to my table.

“So what drinks will you all be starting off with?” I asked looking around at each of them. They all skimmed over the drink section of the menu and pondered for a brief moment.

“I’ll have a uh.. blue raspberry splasher.” The one in the middle spoke. I nodded and wrote it down along with the price. I waited for someone else to speak up and I tapped my foot silently on the floor. “Okay I’ll have a water.” Two boys spoke in sync, laughing as they did so. “Okay, and for you two?” I asked averting my eyes to the end. “We’ll get Pepsi thanks.” Said the one with long hair. I nodded at them and finished writing each item down.

Walking off I head to the drinks and grab a platter. Grabbing 5 cups putting ice in each. Pouring all the drinks I set them nicely on the platter, grabbing some straws. I walked back to the table and sat each drink in front of its owner.

“So do we know what we’re getting to eat or would you like some more time?” I asked the group. “We’re ready now.” The long haired boy spoke up. I grabbed my notepad from my back pocket adjusting my weight to the opposite side. I tapped my foot impatiently waiting for one to began.

“Yea so uh we’ll have 5 cheeseburgers then like a shit ton of appetizers.” He spoke. He looked up at me for a second, which happened to be the first time at all. I grew tired of standing here with them, feeling the corners of my mouth twitch.

“Okay right, so you just want 5 burgers without the combo meal?” I repeat making sure i understood what he was saying. He nodded at me, looking in my eyes. I felt a little small under his presence but I swallowed it down.

“Okay sounds good. What appetizers were you guys thinking?” I asked with less enthusiasm. I looked around each of them watching the group ignore me. I cleared my throat making myself known.

“Come back in 5 we’re not done deciding.” The middle man spoke up. I huffed and looked to the side, nodding my head. Walking back to my station I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened my messages. I replied to everyone then shut my phone off. I glanced at the time noticing it had been more than 5 minutes.

I walk over to the group yet again and approach them with more of a tired attitude. “Done deciding?” I asked them plainly. “Sure is sweetheart.” The long haired spoke. I grinned lightly at his words acknowledging him. “So we’ll uh have the onion rings and jalapeño poppers.” I glanced around the table before speaking up. “I’m sorry we don’t have jalapeño poppers anymore.” I admitted.

The long hair boy squinted his eyes and ran back over the menu. “Yea im pretty sure it says right here you do.” He smirked looking back at me. I sighed out in annoyance and smiled. Again. “Sir, yes I understand, but these menus haven’t been updated yet. I can assure you we don’t sell them anymore.” He nodded taking in my words. He sucked his teeth and began to speak again. “So if you wouldn’t mind could we still get them? I mean isn’t this false advertising?” He said with fake pity.

I rolled my eyes done with my nice act. “Dude we don’t have anything to make them, we stopped selling them. So please if you would, you can select something else from the menu.” I let out a breath that I had been holding. He looked at me blankly cocking his head to the side. “Ma’am.. have you ever heard the phrase, ‘the customer is always right’?” He asked in a witty tone.

“Yes sir I have.” I said bored. He clapped his hands together in a cheerful manner. “Awesome to hear. So you do realize it’s my word over yours, right?” He asked with a smile that made me shudder.

I chuckled slighty and nodded at him. “You know what, you are completely right. I’ll have your food ready in no time.” I spoke before walking off. Heading to the kitchen I began reading their order stopping at the jalapeño poppers.

“We have a special request of jalapeño poppers also, claimed it was our fault for the false advertising on the menus. Wouldn’t take no for an answer.” I spoke with annoyance recalling the conversation.

The cook nodded and opened the freezer. “They’re in luck tonight. Got one more bag left.” He raised his eyebrows. I thanked him and opened the door walking back out to my area. I sat down and opened my phone waiting for the bell to ring so I could take their food. I noticed the time had went by thirty minutes so I gathered my items placing them in my bag, so when they left I could too.

Hearing the bell around 15 minutes later I jolted to my feet and walked over the window. I grabbed each plate and balanced them on my arms. Walking back I sat the two baskets in the center of the table and put one burger in front of each.

“Look at that. Jalapeño poppers.” The long haired spoke. He grabbed one before tossing it in his mouth. I grinned before speaking. “Guess it was your lucky day.” I replied quickly.

The group sat and talked and while eating the food quickly. Watching them closely making sure they were still okay, I sighed running a hand through my hair. Going back to the computer screen I rang up their check, printed it before walking over and setting it on their table.

Walking back to the computer I waited for one of them to approach and pay. Just as I hoped so much, none other than the long haired boy came over. I smile at him extending my hand for his card.

“Thanks” I mumbled. Handing him back his card, I closed his check. He left me a twenty dollar tip, so I smiled at him sweetly for the first time tonight. “No problem sweetheart.” He winked.

They each gathered their items and began walking out the door. I thanked them one last time before grabbing my own items. I clocked out grabbing my ticket and tossing it in the trash. Walking towards the door I yelled a goodnight, hearing a faint response. I pull my keys out and began walking to my car.

“Hey wait up!” I heard slightly behind me. I stopped and looked over my shoulder seeing them same boy again. I sighed and turned completely facing him. He came to a stop in front of me and smiled.

“Hey there” he spoke up lightly. His cheeks had grown a little pink from the cold air. I purses my lips before exhaling. “Hi” I spoke firmly, trying to make this quick, ready to get home. “Can I get your number?” He asked softly. I blinked at him before shaking my head. “I’m sorry, why?” I asked truthfully. He shrugged and hit down on his lip. “Dunno. Guess you’re cute.” He mumbled. I snickered slightly. “Wow, thanks.” I exaggerated. “Cmon I think you owe me anyway.” He said stepping closer to me. I jerked my neck back slighty taken back from his words. “How do I owe you?” He hummed nodding his head at me.

“Well you did refuse to serve me my food I specifically asked for, then you had such rude manners…” he began listing off. He stepped even closer whispering in my ears. “And I would love to show a bitch like you how to properly speak to someone.” He pulled away and smiled at me. I looked at him completely lost. I hesitated before slipping my phone from my back pocket into his hand.

He quickly typed his number in and put his name. Chris. Cute I guess. Giving me his phone to me I did the same. He handed me back my phone as I did the same, and with one final goodnight he walked off.

Walking through my door I kicked off my shoes and walked to my room. Placing all my bags down I gathered my items for a shower. Walking to my bathroom i slip out of my dirty work clothes before tossing them in my hamper. Turning the water on I let it warm up for a moment before slipping in.

I stepped out the shower after about 25 minutes. I quickly dried off and got dressed getting everything done at once. I walked back into my room and slip beneath my covers. I grabbed my phone from my nightstand and noticed new messages. Just as I clicked on the messages I got an incoming call. Looking at the contact name I see ‘Chris’ and groan.

“Hello” I spoke into the phone. I crossed my arm over my chest as I waited for him to speak. “Hey sweetheart, you miss me yet?” He flirted. I chuckle rolling my eyes. “It’s like I can’t even stop thinking of you.” I joked back. I heard him laugh before speaking again. “Send me your address.” He demanded. “And why would I do that?” I asked in an obvious tone.

“Because, like I said earlier. Someone has got to teach you some manners.” I could feel his smirk through the phone. “Is this your pathetic attempt of an excuse to a bootycall?” I wondered out loud. “Maybe, is it working?” He asked. “I’ll text you.” I said finally before ending the call.

I quickly messaged him my address before closing my phone. I waited for his arrival, sitting in my bed. I had been watching Gilmore girls for the time being. Just as I went to get up I heard three faint knocks at my door. Walking to my door I open it and I’m met with no other than Chris.

Immediately Im met with his lips smashing against my face. I gasped and stumble slighty before gaining my composure. Pulling away i scan over his face. “No greetings?” I asked out of breath. Quickly he shakes his head. “You don’t deserve it.” He replied, without hesitation he cupped my face bring my lips closer to his, only this time I quickly began kissing him back.

I led him to my bedroom all while our lips were still attached. I pushed him on my bed softly before climbing on him. I ran my fingers through his hair combing the waves out. I pressed my face deeper into his own savoring the moment and tatse.

I felt him move his hands to my waist before giving me a slight squeeze. I let a groan out letting him know I was enjoying this.

Softly I began trailing my kisses from his lips towards his neck. Finding a good spot i began to suck lightly. I heard him slighty hitch his breath before letting out a small whimper. I moaned at the sound and lightly trailed my fingers over over his stomach .

Without even thinking he quickly flipped us over, positioning me to be underneath him now. I gasped at the sudden movement and looked into his eyes. He looked down at me and smiled slighty. He leaned down and reconnected our lips. They moved in sync as it grew sloppier.

I felt him growing hard under me, moaning at the feeling. As if on cue he slighty pressed his cock straight on my dripping cunt. I whimpered into his mouth and bit on his lip slighty.

Tossing my head back he began grinding his hips into mine rubbing his cock on me. He moaned lowly before biting down on his bottom lip. I tossed my head back while letting my mouth hang open.

Arching my back slighty I peel my shirt off, tossing it on my floor. My boobs bounce slighty from the movement, watching as his eyes trail over them momentarily.

“Get on your knees.” He spoke quietly. I obliged him with a nod before sinking on my knees in the floor. He now stood in front of me, stroking my cheek as I looked up at him.

“Ready for your lesson baby?” He asked with a fake pout. I nodded at him before swallowing down the lump in my throat. “Say yes daddy.” He grinned. I cringed at the words but listened to him nonetheless. “Yes daddy.” I spoke softly.

He patted my cheek twice firmly with the soft touch of his hands, before pulling his attention to his pants. “Now I want you to shut up and take my dick. Any complaints and I’ll punish your ass. Understood?” Nodding softly I mumble a faint yes. Quickly sliding his pants down,he slowed his actions, watching as he began to tease me with each tug. I whined growing impatient, reaching my own hands up.

Suddenly I felt a slight sting on my cheek. He slapped me. I blinked slowly, my head turned to the side. It wasn’t hard or painful but i definitely didn’t expect it. It only resulted in me growing even wetter for him.

“No touching unless I say.” He spoke with a blank expression. I nodded at him before pouting. “I’m sorry daddy.” I apologize. He smiled at me before grabbing my face.

“Open your mouth.” Without thinking twice I did just that opening it as wide as I could. I stuck my tongue out as he lightly tapped the tip of his leaking cock on my tongue. I looked into his eyes as seductively as I could.

Quickly swallowing him fully I hallow my cheeks creating a suction. I move my head slowly gaining speed as I went. Bringing my hand up I gently cup his balls before giving them a slight tug. He moaned at the touch softly throwing his head back.

Gently he began fucking my face as he bucked his hips forward. I pull him from my mouth jerking him quickly. Bringing his balls closer to my mouth I gave both of them a kiss before sucking gently on the skin.

“Shit- that’s it baby” he moaned. I placed him back in my mouth before deepthroating him, gagging on his size. I could feel the tears daring to spill out. Coughing slighty I pull him out my mouth before spitting my saliva on his shaft. I stroked him coating him completely in the juices.

Placing him back into my mouth I could feel him twitch slighty. He grabbed the back of my hair fixing me to look up. Pulling himself out of me he tapped my face repeatedly with the tip of his cock. Pulling back he began strolling himself at a fast paste. Taking it as my sign, I stick my tongue out ready to catch his load. Feeling spurts of his fluids fly on my face and tongue I could only moan at his taste.

Quickly he comes down from his intense high. Walking off he grabbed some tissues and began wiping my face clean. I thank him before sitting on my bed. I wait patiently for him looking off to the side. He walks back into my room and grabs his things. I stand abruptly in confusion.

“What the hell! You’re leaving?” I shout at him. He turns back to me, before walking over. Quickly he presses a kiss to my lips, which I return. He pulls back with a snug smirk. “Didnt i tell u I was here to teach you a lesson? Don’t worry I’ll be back soon to return the favor.” He spoke quickly. He began walking towards my door, before opening it, then shutting it behind him.

I scoff, what an asshole.

Tag list - @shaquilles-0atmeal @monroesturnns @blahbel668 @mattssluttywaist @jetaimevous @nickysturnss @ribread03 @meatballlover10 @mattslolita @sophand4n4

[faun-the-fawn77]

Can you sonic x reader who is very affectionate?

"SPARKS FLY"

"Get me with those green eyes, baby As the lights go down"

Sonic x GN!Reader Word Count: 761 Warnings: nothing but fluff! Desc: Sonic never seemed to stop moving, well, that was until you came into the picture! Notes will be at the end! PLEASE make sure you read my request info here! Written with mobian reader in mind!

It was one of those rare days where everyone was out and about. Tom and Maddie left for a once a month date night, Tails was out testing a new invention of his, and Knuckles decided to 'train like the other warriors' after finishing the Kung Fu Panda movie series.

Sonic has been left alone before but, that ended in disaster. Tom and Maddie never left him alone since. Now, they feel more at ease with the newest addition to the growing group of anthropomorphic aliens.

You were definitely the angel they needed. Always able to control the chaos that was the Wachowski household. You made breakfast in the mornings, much to Maddie's relief. Laundry was always done, plants watered, and floors vacuumed. You also happen to be the only thing that can get Sonic to actually relax.

He has always been on the move. Constant running around and always wanting to do something new. Tom has never seen the blue hedgehog settle down enough to even eat his meal at an acceptable pace.

A few months after your arrival, it was the couples first time seeing Sonic down and relaxed. They had just come back from helping a neighbor for a few hours. The house was suspiciously quiet with the aliens that were housed within. While Tails and Knuckles weren't really a problem, Sonic was a bit predictable yet unpredictable. They knew you were the one watching over the three yet, anxiety of leaving the four alone still gnawed at their stomachs.

It was definitely a surprise to see the ever-moving blue blur cuddled up with you under a blanket on the couch. Popcorn was still in its bowl, a few pieces on the ground from missing mouths. The TV was playing some action movie with the volume at a reasonable level for how late it is and drinks still standing up, not spilled.

Maddie was the first to move. She pulled out her phone and took what seemed like 30,000 pictures. Tom could only stand with his jaw still dropped at the sight of the two.

The flashing from Maddie's phone camera was what had Sonic stirring. His eyes blearly blinked open, looking around before his gaze landed on his second set of parents.

"What-"

"Sh!" Maddie was quick to shut him up, holding a finger to her lips before pointing to the side of him. Sonic glanced over to see the top of your head cuddled into his neck. It was silent and then the frantic moving while trying to not wake you up, started. He may have panicked but, at least you didn't wake up!

"It's not what it looks like," Sonic stuttered out. He waved his gloved hands in a frantic motion, hopping from one foot to the other. You were just his friend! His friend who was very affectionate and touchy and cuddly and- okay, he really isn't fooling anyone.

"Okay, let me explain..."

Since that day, Tom and Maddie has been comfortable enough to leave the house alone with the four.

Today, Sonic wanted to introduce you to another one of his favorite TV shows. He always said it was just because he wanted to hang out with you but, you and him both knew it was because he wanted to enjoy the warmth of your body cuddled up by his.

He grabbed the remote to hit play, sliding up next to you on the couch that was littered with every blanket and pillow they could find in the house. Snacks stacked on each other on the table with drinks on the inside so they had less of a chance to spill.

His arm immediately wrapped around your shoulders and tugging you close to his side. You responded instantly with cuddling up next to him, purring lightly at the attention.

Halfway through the first episode, you were asleep. Sonic turned the volume down, and settled back with you on top of his chest. The purring from your chest seemed to be infectious since he seemed to be doing it now as well. His hand came to rest on your back and the other running down your arm to your hand.

He didn't think this kind of affection would find him and yet, the universe seemed to put you right in his path. The thought made him smile. He gently pulled one of the blankets around the both of you. His muzzle buried into the top of your head, nuzzling to get your scent in his mind before he eventually drifted off to sleep.

short but cute! hope you enjoy:)<3

[rafedarling]

𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞

pairing: major!drew starkey x nurse!reader

summary: it’s 1944, and the world is engulfed in the turmoil of wwii. on a remote air force base, major drew starkey prepares for a perilous mission, while you, a shy and introverted young nurse, watches from afar, your heart caught between admiration and fear. you has never been one to express your feelings openly, but as drew faces an uncertain future in the skies, you gathers the courage to write your first letter to a man—a heartfelt confession of love. before he departs, you quietly hands him the letter, never knowing how it will change you both.

warning(s): english is not my native language. contains emotional themes set during ww2, themes of war and separation, mild language and teasing from fellow soldiers.

au: like, reblog, comment and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @stuffyownswrld @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxoblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @littlelamy

part ii - part iii - …

You, as a nurse stationed at the airbase, you were accustomed to keeping your head down, doing your work with precision and care, never drawing attention to yourself. You’d been stationed here for months, yet it still felt like you didn’t belong in the whirl of action around you.

But there was one person whose presence never failed to draw your gaze, no matter how much you tried to remain invisible.

Major Drew Starkey.

To everyone else, he was a leader—a seasoned officer whose calm authority and unwavering composure made him stand out among the others. He was the kind of man who seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet always found a way to offer a smile to those who needed it. His tall frame, sharp features, and focused blue eyes made him a figure of admiration and respect, and you were no exception.

But to you, he was more than just a Major in the Air Force.

He was Major Drew—the man whose voice sent a flutter through your chest whenever he spoke, even if it was just to ask about a patient’s condition. The man whose steady hands and quiet courage filled you with a sense of safety in a world torn apart by war. For months, you had admired him from a distance, your heart skipping a beat every time he passed by. You would catch glimpses of him during routine check-ups or briefings, his brow furrowed in concentration, his posture always strong and sure. You never allowed yourself to imagine more than a fleeting glance or polite exchange; he was an officer, after all, and you were just a nurse.

But as time went by, as each mission became more perilous and the losses more profound, something began to shift within you. The thought of him flying off into the unknown without knowing how much he meant to you gnawed at your heart. Every time he left on a mission, the knot in your stomach tightened, fearing he might not return.

And then, one evening, as the sun dipped low the base was sinking in soft amber light, you made a decision. It was impulsive and terrifying, but the fear of regret outweighed your shyness. You had to let him know, even if only once, even if he never read the words.

You decided to write him a letter.

Sitting in your small quarters, surrounded by the muffled sounds of soldiers laughing and planes preparing for takeoff, you hesitated, the pen hovering over the paper. How do you write to a man like Major Drew? What words could possibly capture the depth of what you felt, the quiet admiration that had grown into something so much more?

But you had to try. You had to be brave, even if just for one fleeting moment.

Dear Major Drew Starkey, I do not know where to begin, nor how to put into words what my heart has long wanted to say. Perhaps it is foolish of me to write to you like this, but the uncertainty of tomorrow compels me to be braver than I’ve ever been before. I know you are a man of duty, a man of courage, and that your mind is always focused on the task at hand. But I wonder if, in the quiet hours when you are alone, your thoughts drift as mine do—to those you hold dear, to the things that make this war worth fighting. I think of you often, more than I should. More than I’ve ever thought of anyone. It’s strange to admit it, even to myself, but in the stillness of the night, when the world around us is consumed by chaos, it is your face I see. Your voice I hear. It is your strength that makes me feel safe, even when everything else is falling apart. I have never written a letter like this before, and I confess I am terrified of how you will receive it. But I cannot go another day without letting you know how deeply I care for you, how much I admire the man you are—not just the officer, but the man who carries so much on his shoulders without complaint. I will not ask anything of you. I do not expect you to respond. All I ask is that you take these words with you, wherever you go, and know that someone here thinks of you every day. That someone prays for your safe return, not because it is your duty to return, but because you are cared for—because I care for you. If fate allows, I hope that one day we may speak of these things in person. But until then, please know that my thoughts are with you always. Yours, in heart and in hope, Y/N”

You read and reread the letter until the words blurred before your eyes, but the feeling behind them remained steady. With trembling hands, you folded the letter neatly and slipped it into a plain envelope. You stared at it for what felt like hours, your heart pounding in your chest as if it might burst. Could you really give this to him? What if he didn’t feel the same? What if he laughed at you, or worse—what if he never even opened it?

But there was no turning back now. You had written the letter, and you had to deliver it.

The opportunity came sooner than you expected. The next morning, just before dawn, the base was a flurry of activity. Major Drew was preparing for another mission—this one longer and more dangerous than the others. The soldiers were gearing up, checking their equipment, and sharing quiet conversations before the inevitable parting. You watched from the infirmary window, your heart heavy with the weight of the letter tucked inside your apron pocket.

You took a deep breath and forced your feet to move. As you made your way toward the runway, the early morning light casting long shadows over the ground, you spotted him. He stood by his plane, speaking to a group of officers, his back to you.

You almost turned around.

But then, as if sensing your presence, Major Drew glanced over his shoulder and saw you. His expression softened, his blue eyes locking onto yours in a way that made your heart stutter. Without thinking, you hurried toward him, clutching the letter so tightly your knuckles turned white.

“Major Starkey,” you called out, your voice barely audible over the hum of the engines. His gaze shifted to you fully, and he stepped away from the group, his tall figure moving toward you with a calm, confident stride.

“Y/N,” he greeted, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “What brings you out here? Everything alright?”

You nodded quickly, swallowing the lump in your throat as you fumbled for the words. “I—I just wanted to give you this,” you stammered, thrusting the envelope toward him before you could lose your nerve.

He glanced down at the envelope, then back at you, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “What’s this?” he asked softly, though there was no pressure in his voice, no demand—only a gentle interest.

“It’s just…” Your voice faltered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “It’s something I wanted you to have before you leave.”

For a moment, the world seemed to freeze around you. The sounds of the base faded, the distant voices of soldiers and the rumble of engines becoming nothing more than background noise. It was just the two of you, standing there in the early morning light, the air thick with unspoken words.

Major Drew took the envelope from your trembling hands, his fingers brushing yours in a way that sent a jolt of warmth through your body. He held your gaze for a long moment, as if trying to read the meaning behind your sudden act of courage.

“I’ll read it when I get back,” he promised, his voice low and steady, filled with an understanding that made your heart ache. He smiled at you, that rare, gentle smile that always made the world feel just a little bit brighter. “Thank you, Y/N.”

You nodded, your throat too tight to speak. And then, before you could embarrass yourself further, you turned and hurried away, your heart pounding in your chest as the weight of what you had just done settled over you.

Hours later, the base had fallen into an uneasy quiet. The planes were gone, the soldiers off on their mission, and you were left in the stillness of the infirmary, going through the motions of your duties while your mind raced with a thousand thoughts.

Would he read the letter? Would he think you were foolish for writing it? Would he even come back?

Night fell, and with it came the familiar sounds of planes returning to base. You didn’t rush to the runway this time, too afraid of what you might or might not see. Instead, you stayed in the infirmary, tending to your work, your heart heavy with the weight of uncertainty.

Meanwhile, in the soldiers’ quarters, Major Drew sat among his fellow officers, exhausted but relieved to have returned safely. The men around him joked and teased, trying to shake off the tension of the mission with laughter and camaraderie. But Drew’s mind wasn’t with them.

He reached into his jacket pocket, feeling the soft edges of the envelope you had given him. His comrades noticed the movement and, ever the opportunists, one of them nudged him with a sly grin.

“Hey, Starkey,” one of the soldiers teased. “What’s that you’ve got there? A love letter from a secret admirer?”

The others joined in, their voices filled with playful banter.

“Don’t keep it to yourself, Major! Let’s hear what your girl’s got to say!”

Drew rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not for you lot,” he muttered, standing up and stepping away from the group. He could still hear their laughter behind him, but it was distant now, fading into the background as he found a quiet corner and opened the letter.

As he unfolded the paper, the world seemed to slow, your delicate handwriting coming into view. He read your words carefully, the weight of your confession settling over him like a warm blanket. The teasing from his comrades faded into nothing, replaced by the quiet vulnerability of your letter.

For a long moment, he simply sat there, the letter clutched in his hands, a strange mix of emotions washing over him. He hadn’t expected this—not from you, not from someone so quiet and reserved. But as he read and reread your words, something stirred in him, something deep and unspoken that he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time.

When he finally folded the letter and tucked it safely back into his jacket, his heart felt lighter, as if the weight of the world had lifted just slightly. The war still raged on, the uncertainty of tomorrow still loomed, but in that moment, your words gave him something he hadn’t realized he needed.

Hope.

He smiled to himself, standing up and returning to his comrades, their teasing starting up again the moment he rejoined them. “So, Starkey,” one of them called out, grinning from ear to ear. “Your mystery girl leave you love-struck?”

Drew chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Something like that,” he replied, his voice low, as if sharing a secret only he knew. Because that’s what it was—your letter was a secret, a treasure he would carry with him wherever the war took him next.

No matter what Drew knew one thing for certain: he would come back.

For you.

For the promise of something more.

[beca-mitchell]

no ordinary things with you (1/1) (bechloe)

I did this challenge by @ekingston. what a fun idea! And super thanks to @velvetinkkwrites for encouragement and being a co-conspirator.

My "prompt" was: fluff / locked in an escape room / unresolved sexual tension / a hangnail and amazingly, the Bechloe just flowed. I love these dummies.

Summary: Beca and Chloe are stuck in an escape room. Good thing Beca is an extremely calm person.

Word count: 1,000

Read on AO3 or below.

****

It’s Amy’s idea.

It’s always Amy’s idea.

And yet–

“I knew this room wasn’t meant to be completed with just two people.” 

Somehow, Amy is not here.

Chloe sighs in response to Beca’s short tone. “Bec, it’s fine. We can just wait it out.”

A familiar flare of a decade-old competitive streak flares up in Beca at the mere thought—something she had thought long dissipated once they left university. Yet being trapped in a small enclosed space with Chloe Beale has once again made Beca’s fight-or-flight instincts rise to the surface. 

“Why would they even allow us to do this room knowing that we’re two people and not three? They saw us walk in. They heard us say that Amy would be late.” She glares at the puzzle before them that clearly requires at least three pairs of hands and not just the two they have presently available. “Now we’re trapped,” Beca enunciates in an extremely chill, not dramatic way. 

Chloe’s voice. “Come on, Bec. We can at least try.”

Chloe’s soothing encouragement and endless positivity combine to make Beca feel like somehow, they’re back in college and maybe back in the stifling heat of Aubrey’s corporate torture retreat. 

Shockingly, not Amy’s idea.

Chloe’s idea, actually. 

God, that had been a time.

Beca glances at Chloe who is running her hands over the surface of the platform in front of them, clear ridges and grooves meant to be manipulated by multiple sets of hands. It’s a spy-themed room, meant to be dark and mysterious. The dim lights aren’t particularly calming to Beca right this second, especially because the lack of light somehow serves to make Chloe prettier, which is, like, extremely unfair to Beca.

It’s kind of the whole reason why Beca’s kind of being short with Chloe, when it’s really the last thing she wants to do, but distance has always served her well. The issue is that distance in a shoebox studio apartment in Brooklyn is a bit hard to achieve especially if she is sharing an uncomfortable pull-out bed with the person she kind of wants some distance from. 

It’s just that…this little being friends with her ex thing is not working out. Jesse is clearly still bitter and Beca is exasperated, which has never been a good combination. It’s even clearer that they don’t work as a couple more than ever before, now that Jesse isn’t attempting to be remotely chivalrous or protective of Beca’s feelings.

Or his own insecurities, evidently. 

So it's his accusations that are why Beca is now doing her best to not stare right at Chloe’s lips. Because of Jesse’s bright idea that Beca had long-harbored feelings for Chloe and that was why their relationship didn’t work out. 

She has tried to convince herself that it’s just Jesse’s latest wayward accusation in a string of accusations and that his dickish behavior isn’t something she needs to pay close attention to, but this one sticks. It lingers and gnaws at Beca uncomfortably. 

So much so that she has been dreaming of Chloe and her smile and her stupidly blue eyes. 

The worst part is, she doesn’t hate it. 

So, suffice it to say, Beca’s running on nerves and anxiety and of course, Amy’s bright ideas aren’t particularly thrilling to her right now. She’s stuck alone in a locked room with Chloe Beale, who looks unfairly gorgeous with her lower lip between her teeth as she puzzles out the clues around the room. And she keeps touching Beca too, with her pretty hands and smiling at her with her perfect teeth. 

“...Bec?”

Beca blinks.

“Sorry, what?”

“You were frowning.” Chloe’s tone is concerned, but she nudges a foot forward playfully. “Not new, of course. Just frowning harder than usual. Is everything okay? Did you figure something out?” 

That I want you.

“No,” Beca answers, groaning internally when Chloe’s face falls at her short tone. “No, sorry—hey. I just…it was a long week at work and-and–” she falters, trying to find any excuse because now Chloe is all perked up and gazing at Beca with such sad, concerned puppy-dog-eyes that she has to say something. Anything, really. “--this stupid hangnail made it really hard to mix because it—”

Chloe gasps, grabbing at Beca’s hand, suddenly. “I told you to moisturize,” she chides.

“Chlo–” Beca tries to take her hand back, but Chloe holds fast, fingers delicately running all over Beca’s hands like she’s solving a puzzle. Beca had not thought this through. 

She hadn’t considered the possibility that Chloe’s hands, which were doing sinful things to her in her dream just the night prior, would actually touch her like this. 

It’s not even an intimate touch, not really. But Chloe has a way of making everything she does feel like she’s doing it as her last act on Earth. So now, with Beca’s hands in her own, she is being exceptionally gentle and thorough as she tries to find the wayward hangnail that had apparently bothered Beca so much that she was acting out in a random escape room in a random building in the middle of Manhattan.

Because Chloe Beale is the only person to fix all of Beca’s problems. 

(The entire issue is that…well, that’s probably true. Beca doesn’t want to deal with that right this second. She doesn’t want to deal with the knowledge that everything she wants is right in front of her.)

Chloe lifts her gaze, eyes alight with something that Beca can’t quite place. 

(And this part—the part that tells her in a small, defiant voice, that maybe what she wants…wants her back.)

Fuck it.

A distant buzzer-like alarm crashes through the room, jolting them apart. Beca thinks that if she really is asleep now, this is maybe just all one horrible nightmare because surely—surely—if this were a dream she’d be able to kiss Chloe.

If this were a dream, she’d grab Chloe’s head and kiss her. 

And based on the look in Chloe’s eyes, she’d kiss her right back. 

fin

[ddejavvu]

For multiverse Monday!! Where reader is so attracted to dealer!remus and she acts like she wants to buy from him but she only wants a chance to approach him and he knows it because that is so not like her and he is like “what is the real reason you’re talking to me?” And everything it’s like so flirty and there is tensionnn

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

--

When Remus opens the door he honestly thinks he might be dreaming. After all, he's only hauled himself out of bed seconds ago to answer the timid knocks on his door, so he could be in some sort of fantasy. One where you're standing on his doorstep, little pink purse clutched in your quivering hands.

"Hello," He hums cautiously, "Did you need something?"

"I want to... to buy, uh," You lower your voice, leaning in to whisper, "Drugs."

Now he's sure he's dreaming. Because there's absolutely no way you'd ever be interested in anything illegal, especially not what he sells, because he's seen you scrunch your nose up at the smell before.

"Really," He feigns serious curiosity, stepping aside to let you into his apartment, "Well, you'd better come in then."

You peer cautiously around his living room, like you're worried the police have been lurking just behind the door, waiting to catch you. All you find is dirty laundry, basketball shorts in a heap on the floor beside his couch.

"What kind of drugs?" He asks, and something like fear flashes through your eyes.

"Marijuana." You say resolutely, like you've practiced in the car, "Uh, you sell that, right?"

"I do," He has to fight a grin off of his face at your demeanor, "How much weed do 'ya want?"

"Um," You fall silent and nervous, "Like- do you measure in pounds?"

Remus has to nearly bite through his tongue to stop from laughing.

"Alright, Y/N. Let's stop here. What do you really want?"

"Weed," You echo his slang from earlier, "I- I want to buy drugs, Remus, I told you."

"No, you don't." He narrows his eyes, resting his back against the now-closed door, "Come on, out with it. You and I both know you'd never do drugs, so why are you really here?"

You can't answer him. You can't muster up the courage to tell him you're only at his door to see his pretty face, but the more you twist your fingers together and gnaw at the inside of your cheek, he knows.

Apparently you're easy to read. His lips twist further up into a smirk the longer it takes you to answer, but when the silence becomes too much to bear, he steps in.

"If you're not here to buy weed," He muses, taking it painfully slow to induce the most heat to your cheeks, "Then I think you must be here for me, yeah? 'Cause there's no other reason people come to my place. Not like my cat's very friendly, you haven't come to see her. I returned that book on Greek mythology a week ago to the library, so you can't be after that. I'm the only option left. 'S that right?"

He's spelled it out plain and simple for you, and you don't think denial is an option anymore. You nod slowly, eyes timidly dropping to the floor. and you hear his soft huff of laughter even if you don't see the mixture of amusement and fondness that's on his face.

"Well I'm very flattered." He grins lazily, "Why don't you have a seat," Remus gestures to his couch, scratching an itch crawling up the back of his neck, probably from a crumb in his bed, "I'll get you some water, and we can watch a movie. That sound good?"

"Okay," You nod, relieved but still mortified by the whole ordeal as you sink into his couch cushions.

Remus has a semi-hard time finding you a clean glass, but when he returns, it's full of ice cold water. You take it gratefully, though you stiffen slightly with nerves when he plops down beside you on the couch, and he reaches for the remote with a scarred hand.

"I'm glad you were just trying to flirt with me, honey," He muses, clicking through the options of streaming services he has, "The way you were asking, I thought you were an undercover cop."

[jsprnt]

comforting your fiancé after he loses an important match

trent alexander-arnold x reader

A/N: back from the dead since my hand injury is healed now!! based on this request!

W/C: 1.584

"shit..."

you mumble to yourself, zipping up your handbag as you watch the liverpool game end.

you had taken one glance at trent, and you knew that he was absolutely heartbroken.

you wave at him, getting up to your feet to quickly get out of the stadium down into the parking garage.

your fiancé's team, liverpool had just lost one of the most important matches of the season, and you could only guess how horrible he and his team were feeling right now.

you bid farewell to the girlfriends and wives of the other players, knowing they weren't feeling their best either.

entering the parking garage, you fish your keys out of your bag, unlocking your car. you sigh as you step behind the wheel, shutting your door with slight frustration.

after sitting in silence for a moment, you look down at your phone when you receive a text.

"I'll meet you at home, love."

"gonna cool off a little first.."

you knew of your fiancé's need of wanting to be alone when upset. already with him for years, you had gotten familiar of the ways he'd try to calm down and find relief.

you send him a quick reply, starting your car and start driving away from the stadium.

It's only a half an hour later after you're home, and you hear the front door of your home open.

you jump up from the couch, running up to your visibly defeated looking fiancé.

"baby?.."

you call out, making eye contact with him as he drops his training bag, containing his match necessities. onto the floor.

"hi babe.."

you step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in to kiss his plump lips.

"you okay?"

you ask when pulling back, running a soothing hand up and down his muscular back.

"I'll be fine, eventually..

your heart aches at the dissatisfaction in his voice, and you pull him further into the home.

"why don't you go upstairs and take a shower. wash away some of the stress, 'kay?"

trent can only nod in reply, his bigger hands reach up to cup your jaw, and he presses a firm kiss on your cheekbone.

you soak in the touch, a pout forming on your lips when he leaves to take a shower.

you sigh, grabbing his training bag, sorting his laundry in the bins. knowing you'd rather do anything than nag at him for forgetting to sort out his bag today.

you wait for him in bed, changed and dressed into your loungewear. full face of makeup cleaned off , even after the upmost care you took of doing it before driving up to the stadium, only hours earlier.

the mood dip was absolutely insane, going from leaving the house happy, your favorite music blasting from your car speakers, to driving home in silence, with worry gnawing at you.

"honey?" you say, eyes on your fiancé as he steps out of the bathroom. beige towel hanging low on his hips, chest and his curls wet.

you push your immediate inappropriate thoughts to the back of your mind. after such a loss, you'd doubt he was in the mood anything remotely close being sexually intimate.

"I'm here, lovie.."

he mutters, scouse accent thick as he walks into the closet, you watch him as he dries off. lazily throwing on a pair of boxers and sweatpants.

"can you do my hair for me?"

the question comes out softly, like his voice is about to crack. you're confused at first, he'd never even have to ask if you could help him with his hair.

for you, it was a part of your love language.

putting product through the tight coils, making sure he's comfortable while sitting in front of you.

you quirk up a brow when he walks over, his muscles flexing with his brown skin. he leans over, slipping onto the covers, and resting his body against yours.

you support yourself on your elbows, reaching over to run a hand down his chest.

"of course, I'll do your hair. you don't even have to ask, baby.." you reassure, watching as he grunts softly at your touch. his eyes closing as if on instinct.

"good, 'cause I really need it right now.."

you hum, the pad of your thumb making contact with his mustache. giggling when he gives you a confused look.

"this is a good look on you, you know.."

you compliment, not wanting to bring up today's events just yet.

"yeah?" he asks, voice higher pitched than usual as his plump lips stretch into a smile.

"mhm, less of the goatee. more of the 'stache.."

"I wouldn't know what to do if my own fiancée didn't like my face.." he teases, finding humor in his situation, his hand reaching to poke your side.

"terrible situation to be in, I'd imagine.." you chuckle, swatting his hand away with a squeal.

"so squirmy.." he frowns, trying to suppress the smile forming on his face.

"c'mon.." he suddenly says, getting up from his position and grabbing at your thighs. hands wrapping around them as he lifts you up, out of the bed.

"woah?! where to?"

"bathroom, my hair is going to dry before I get any product in it.."

"right.." you respond, steadying yourself when you grasp onto his broad shoulders, looking down when he places you onto the bathroom counter. moving to stand in between your legs.

"you good?" he asks, hands reaching into a couple cabinets. magically placing all products right next to you.

"mhm.." you confirm, hands reaching up to his head of hair.

"can I touch ya?" you ask, wanting to avoid any unnecessary sensory overload, especially when you knew he was upset.

"of course. touch me all you want, lovie.."

you grin, already feeling the moistness of his hair, before carefully starting to take care of his hair. silky and delicious smelling products filling your senses.

his hands find their way to your thighs, fingers drumming on your skin as he looks at you. he's mesmerized by the care you're giving him. treating every single on of his curls utmost carefully and with overwhelming love in your eyes.

"and.. done.." you mutter after a while, your tired hands moving away from his dark hair.

"look in the mirror.." you urge, moving your head away so he can look in the bathroom mirror.

"oh, baby.." he mutters when he looks at himself, satisfied smirk on his face.

"happy?"

"you always do such a good job, lovie. not even surprised.."

he grabs a hold of your jaw, fingers touching your skin gently as he leans forward. placing a grateful and tender kiss onto your lips.

"thank you, lovie.."

"you're welcome.." you cheese, your fingers twitching from the amount of time you spent perfect his hair.

he frowns when he looks down, huge hands dwarfing yours, as he brings them down to the sink. gingerly washing away the oily product.

"how gentle.." you observe, quirking up a brow at trent.

"I've got to be gentle. my lovie just did my hair for me.."

your chuckle is cut of as he picks you off the counter, beeling you both back into your comfortable, awaiting bed.

"tired?"

"mhm.." trent hums, cuddling up next to you, hands reaching for yours in the dark.

"trent, baby.." you speak up, looking for his eyes in the dim light.

"yeah?"

"can we talk about it? please? I'd rather you not keep it inside and suffer without me knowing.."

"y/n- it's fine. losing a match, It's something I've gotten used to over the years.."

"I'm sure it still hurts, though?"

he goes quiet for a moment, his hands starting to massage your tired ones. each finger touching every bone and muscle to relax you to the upmost possibility.

"I'm just disappointed- and just mostly with myself.." he finally spills his emotions.

“I know, and getting the blame must be hard, my love..”

“it is hard, I just keep thinking if did more my best-"

“trent, c’mon you can’t be taking all the blame- especially when there’s a whole team behind the tactics and play..”

you sit up, looking at him with a stern face. he sighs in defeat, throwing his head back onto the pillow.

“i know that, i know..”

you huff, joining his side. he moves slightly, until his arms are wrapped around you. his warm breath hitting your neck.

"can I sing for you?" you say after a moment, playing with his hair.

"sing?"

he repeats, questioning your words.

"It's going to help a lot.." you mention, getting comfortable

“sure, go ahead, lovie..” he gives in, pressing a kiss to your collarbones.

"my only sunshine, my only sunshine.." you begin, voice as soft as possible as you sing.

you hear trent chuckle for a second, it breaks your focus, it making you sigh.

“your ruining the mood, baby..” you complain, scoffing.

“I’m sorry, baby.. go on..”

"you make me happy, when skies are gray.." your voice wobbles, and you suppress your laughter.

trent closes his eyes finally, breath turning shallow as he focuses on your softening voice.

"you'll never know, dear. how much I love you.." you kiss his cheek, warm skin touching the other's.

your warm hands rub his arms and shoulders. though, he moves suddenly burying his face further into the crook of your neck. his facial hair scratching against your skin.

"can I stay like this for a moment, lovie?"

"of course. anything you want.." you murmur, voice vibrating against his temple when you plant multiple kisses there.

"thank you, lovie.."

[ryanisasleep]

Im dying for some Nikto x Male Reader :'( There's nothing out there for me. Can I request, Nikto with a Cocky and Arrogant S/O? Can Be SFW or NSFW Thank you ❤️

Nikto x male!reader

(I hope I satisfied it as best as I could <33)

TW: hate sex with feelings and happy ending, insults, brusing.

Ok so if you don't like this, you can block this account and nothing more.

Requests are open if you were wondering :)

Btw I changed a bit the story so it is better in some parts

Ohhhhhhh you made me think of hate sex…god I have a good fucking small story inside my stupid head….raaaaaawwww Gnawing the bars of my enclosure. Btw you are too kind :( there you go ‘boops their head’ you will be 🤍anon.

Hate you…or do I?

NSFW so MDNI - Hate sex, swearing, fighting, blood, sex with hidden feelings

Nikto enjoys seeing your cocky attitude falter as he spits blood on your self esteem and walks over your decisions saying that they are clouded by your arrogant judgment and are not safe to be considered even remotely efficient. . .you thought that being the same rank as him and having relatively the same experiences could be of some help when shaming him all day before crossing eachother’s path and growling at the mere presence of the other.

The situation escalated when he began to push you into any wall anytime he could and bruising your mouth by roughly kissing it with his teeth while digging his nails into your clothed waist. You on the other hand tried doing the same as you weren’t going down without a fight, and managed to dig some bloody cuts on his shoulders. It continued like this; bickering sessions ended up with bruised lips and trembling legs trying to push the other away to regain some dignity.

The hate and tension reached its peak when Nikto ended up pushing you into your bed and digging his teeth into your bottom lip drawing out blood and insults. He ripped off your clothes and you did the same. Some blood and bruises were forming on your bodies but that was a matter for the after.

He wanted to say ‘You did good on the last mission’ instead of ‘You fucker, you failed everything and you couldn’t even do a simple task’ as he scratched forcefully your broad back after pinching the fresh healed wounds on your torso drawing out a silent scream out your mouth. ‘Thanks for your presence and for covering my back- back there’ ‘Shut your virgin ass since you don’t do any better, at least I am a liked person around’, you flipped your positions. Now you were on top of him with your legs pressed between his and you were clamping your teeth down on his neck. It hurt a lot. . .and Nikto couldn’t accept that, his pride was too big and high to let you on him and in a swift move he turned you down on the mattress, ‘You are only good at taking it up the ass! Moron, you should have been a stripper at this point! A failed one because I bet my salary that you wouldn't even grab the attention of a drunken man ahah!’

Spit drooled out his mouth like a carnivore savoring his newly catched prey. He didn’t want to admit it but…he really wanted to see you like that again. He was lost in his own world for a while and got back to his senses after you barked back a cocky:

‘At least I am useful to something, unlike you who can only bark out orders like a certain Colonel I know and be like an angry volcano all the goodamn fucking time!' your voice was restrained as you couldn’t quiet breath since a strong hand was holding you - choking you in the messy bed.

You then yelped out in stinking pain, he sticked his fingers inside you without a warning and without an ounce of lube, such as spit. The stretch was hurtful and you hated how good the pads of his pointer and middle fingers worked around your sensible spot, fucking and overstimutaling it till you were just panting out short breaths and trying to get up on your elbows, to then try to shove the one you looked up the most off. He pushed you down again, this time forcing your neck down and letting breathing become harder, he took away his fingers and pushed your ass up. You could sense his eyes wander to all of your upper and lower back imaging all the thoughts that might be crossing his filthy and rotted brain. You hear his belt unbuckle and the low but intriguing squelches from his fingers taking some of his saliva out the mouth (you really wanted to devour that mouth harshly) and wetting down his cock.

He pushed his length inside without a warning and he grunted out at the sudden enveloping sensation trying his hardest not to bottom out. You wanted to tell him how good it felt, how much you wanted to have his hand prints on your body and how much you wanted your neck to be bruised with his teeth marks and fingers, but only a stream of curses came out of your mouth. He rams into you, mounting you and keeping you close in seemingly fear of you going away, your cock brushing repeatedly the wooly sheets creating a friction that makes you see stars and finish immediately without a warning. After a couple of more seconds he comes into you grunting like an animal, securing you under his crushing weight. He had his eyes closed, his mask long since thrown away in some part of the room and all his features visible.

You saw the burn mark on the right side covering the skin until his eye and the long slash dividing his mouth from the left. You loved him, well love was there but you couldn’t phrase it, you wanted to put your hand under his chin but all you could ever do was to choke him if possible. He feels the same, his heart swells with pain as you twooften brawl but he can't, it's too hard. Nikto wants to try and sew your situationship back to ‘’normality’’ but his voices tell him otherwise, to do anything other than good.

He stays a shameful silent. After some time of not deciding what to do, he rolled to the side and heard the aftermath still inside you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

He knows that now you will get up, clean yourself up and leave while giving him a disgusting look because you have no reason to stay, but that was not what he wanted. His stupid brain couldn’t voice his wants and needs and that resulted in the formation of this vicious cycle of this love-hate relationship. He loved you dearly, but he could only spit out venom because he didn’t know how to phrase what he felt.

Instead of letting his grip loose, he started rubbing small circles on your firm stomach feeling your toned muscle fibers underneath, the veins going under adorned the neatly taken care of hair forming a nice happy trail. You hated not shaving them so they were always short.

He put one of his hands at the center of your chest and passed his fingers between your body hair, sweaty from before, and noticed that your heart rate was very calm, calmer than it should’ve been. He inhaled your scent from the nape of your neck and reopened his eyes as he whispered an almost sad ‘’Don’t leave, please’’.

You shifted, embracing the hand on your lower stomach with your own and sighed. ‘’Why…” you were tired, tired of all of this so you decided to be patient and hear what he had to say.

All he could think of and speak was ‘’Just. . .don’t please.’’ His hands twitched, you knew that sign, he was struggling internally and maybe making some of his thoughts scram away. You took some pity on him and decided to stay as you even had no energy to get up.

A silent strange air hugged you two while he rested, he began to tighten his grip and growl a ‘’Go away, fuck i hate you’’. He was not having this yet you sensed he didn’t really mean it. After he came back, he was different, you found himself many times talking to himself or gripping his forearms in anger so tightly that you swore blood was seeping out of the wounds but as you tried to help him and make him voice what was wrong, the answer you got was ‘’Fuck off’’.

He crawled back like a wounded animal and slipped out many words between voices and strangers taunting him every waking moment of the day. You and Nikto have been first colleagues and then close friends but as he began, over the years, that cycle of insults and unnecessary sparring, you couldn’t do anything else other than fight back.

“Easy there, it’s just us and no one else. you don’t need to do and say anything, remember only things you can touch and feel are real”

It was the mantra you had made him remember like a prayer in case his episodes were becoming too much, but they could only do so little. He repeated them whispering with a broken voice as he breathed heavily.

“Sorry, for everything…” he half cried as he lost the capacity to do so many years ago and sat hiding his eyes in his hands. You turned and looked at him with a sad look, you sat too and put your hand on his back and said “It’s fine”.

With that, you two looked at eachother with knowing looks, he said he loved you but also those parts of him did not, but he did. You said you loved him too and would help him with medications if needed and how to end things up. Being in a relationship was prohibited and could result in both of you being discharged with dishonor so being together was off limits.

The other people on base remained firm in believing that you two hated each other to the bone so you two decided to stick with that routine. Night fell quickly and you found yourself in his arms sleeping the night off. In the morning though, you had to wake up early to not raise suspects.