#hanged man x reader

[spiderlily-w1tch-blog]

【ＧＲＡＰＨＩＣ　 ＮＯＶＥＬＳ】

𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙰𝚁𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙰

Muriel

𝒲𝐼𝒮𝒫𝒮𝐼𝑀𝒫𝒮 - 𝑀𝓊𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓁[Part of a Series, TW: Exhibitionism]

Julian Devorak

𝒲𝐼𝒮𝒫𝒮𝐼𝑀𝒫𝒮 - 𝒥𝓊𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓃 𝒟𝑒𝓋𝑜𝓇𝒶𝓀[Part of a Series, TW: Exhibitionism, AMAB!GN!Reader]

Asra

𝒩𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝑒𝓉!

The Magician

𝒩𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝑒𝓉!

The Hanged Man

𝒩𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝑒𝓉!

𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚈 𝙼𝙴! 𝚂𝙷𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝚆𝙴 𝙳𝙰𝚃𝙴

Lucifer

𝒲𝐼𝒮𝒫𝒮𝐼𝑀𝒫𝒮 - 𝐿𝓊𝒸𝒾𝒻𝑒𝓇[Part of a Series, TW: Exhibitionism, Incest]

Mammon

𝒲𝐼𝒮𝒫𝒮𝐼𝑀𝒫𝒮 - 𝑀𝒶𝓂𝓂𝑜𝓃[Part of a Series, TW: Exhibitionism, Threesome, slight Incest, Poly] (ℂ𝕆𝕄𝕀ℕ𝔾 𝕊𝕆𝕆ℕ!!)

Beelzebub

𝒩𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝑒𝓉!

Belphegor

𝒩𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝑒𝓉!

Diavolo

𝒩𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝑒𝓉!

Barbatos

𝒩𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝑒𝓉!

Simeon

𝒩𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝑒𝓉!

Solomon

𝒩𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝑒𝓉!

【Ｂａｃｋ　ｔｏ　Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔｓ】

[roosterbruiser]

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲

A piercing cry slices through the dark--your eyelids are too heavy to wrench open, especially when you’re cocooned under the heavy duvet like you are right now. 

From behind you, molded against your body like he always is when you sleep, Jake’s muscles tense. Rigidly, he sighs into the warm curve of your throat and blinks through the dark. And, yes, there on the baby monitor is your six-month-old baby boy in his silly-looking sleep sack. He’s about to wail, Jake can tell. His little bottom lip’s wobbling and his eyes are shut tight and even though Jake can’t see his hands, he knows his fists are clenched.

“Your son is so dramatic,” you whisper, muffled from the pillow. 

“I thought we decided on theatrical,” Jake whispers back, his voice thin and worn. He peppers a few sloppy kisses to your throat and starts to sit up. “I’ve got ‘im.” 

“You’re my hero,” you mutter, yawning. 

He stretches and then swings his legs over the bed. 

“Kinda my thing,” he says as he stands.

“I love you so much,” you reply. Any other time, with more sleep, you would’ve scoffed at him and given him your best eye roll. But you’re too tired to feel anything but grateful for your husband right now. “Like, so much.” 

Jake laughs lightly, tiredly. 

“I know,” he says cockily, teasingly. 

You don’t respond, already drifting off to sleep again. You’re so tired that you can feel it in your bones--a deep, deep ache that is only exacerbated by frequent diaper changes and excessive feedings and tumultuous tummy times and gas and formula and binkies and board books and burp cloths and baths. 

And even though the baby is definitely about to start screaming, Jake can’t help but pause for a moment in repose as he stands in the doorway in his slouchy sweatpants. You’re sprawled across the bed already--you always say it’s to keep his spot warm but he knows that it’s because you’d sleep in star-formation if you had the choice--and breathing deeply. Your hair is a mess on the pillow and your cheek is smushed. Anyone with eyes can see that you’re exhausted from parenting a very particular, theatrical Seresin baby boy.  

He wants to cross the room again and tuck your hair back from your forehead. He wants to kiss your aching temples and your heavy eyelids. He wants to pull you in his arms, gather all those limbs, and hold you close. 

But he doesn’t want to wake you up.

So, he just smiles gently. 

“I love you so much,” he responds finally. “So, so, so stupid much.” 

And then he’s padding down the hallway, yawning again, but with a smile tugging on his lips. He can hear his son’s whimpers from outside the door and honestly, he’s shocked the screaming hasn’t started yet. 

The sound of artificial rain floods Jake’s ears when he comes into the room, the little sound machine in the corner lulling your son to sleep each day and night. He doesn’t bother turning it off or turning the light on--Jake’s fairly certain he’s adapted to the dark by now anyway. 

There in his crib, the one Jake had to finally ask Javy to help build, is a wriggling and fussy baby boy. His gummy mouth on display as he thrashes his head back and forth and his cheeks ruddy from upset. 

Jake’s heart swells as he strokes his cheek. Sometimes he still can't believe that this sweet little creature--the one with your eyes and his nose and your cheeks and his chin--is all his and all yours. You made him, every bit of him, and he is the most precious thing to ever grace this earth. Jake's sure of it.

“Hey there, cowboy,” he says softly. His son doesn’t let up yet, kicking his legs as Jake unzips the sleep sack. “S’alright, darlin’, daddy’s here.” 

All the tired floods his body and slips out under the door when Jake’s not looking. He holds his son against his bare chest, his body still so small and so soft. But then Jake is kissing the feathery hair on his head and bouncing lightly in his spot, heels digging into the rug. 

“What’s got you so upset?” Jake whispers, lips pressed against his son’s forehead. “Bad dream, baby?” 

Your son doesn’t respond. He just burrows into his fathers neck, his breaths stuttering and his mouth open and drooling. Jake pats his back a few times, kissing his cheek. He inhales his sweet, sweet scent and sighs.  

He loves the way your son smells--he just smells warm. He isn’t sure if it’s the body wash or the lotion or the sheets that does it. But he somehow just always smells good, like home, like you. 

“Let’s take a seat, huh? A little rock and roll never hurt nobody, huh?” He asks quietly as he sits in the rocking chair. 

If you were awake to hear his pun, you would’ve never let him hear the end of it. Jake makes a mental note to tell it to you over breakfast. 

Your son’s whimpers are fading fast, especially when Jake starts to softly rock him, tucking his chin on his head and patting his back softly. 

“Mama thinks you’re theatrical,” he tells your son, eyes fluttering shut. “And you definitely are. Mama also thinks you get it from me--and you absolutely do. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, cowboy. You gonna be a little actor? Or a little lawyer?” 

Your son babbles quietly, fingers tangled in Jake’s hair as a form of self-soothing. Jake kisses his face a few more times. 

“Or you could just stay here with me and mama forever,” he whispers. 

And he knows that having a son has made him soft--like crying at that one Honda commercial kind of soft--because his eyes grow wet when he thinks of your son getting any bigger than he is now. He never wants a day to come where he can’t pull his son to his chest, sit down in the rocking chair, and make the tears stop. 

"I love you," he whispers. "Me and mama love you so, so much. More love than can fit in this whole world."

When you pad down the hallway, eyes full of sand and sleep from your very few hours slumbering, you don’t even have to touch the walls anymore to orient yourself. You know where you’re going even in the pitch-black hallway. 

Jake’s sleeping when you come into the nursery, the sound machine quiet in the corner of the room. Your son is still in his arms, sleeping against his chest. And God do they look alike right now in the light of the moon--both of them sleeping with their heads resting on each other’s, their mouths open, their fists clenched. 

You came in here to bring Jake back to the bedroom. But watching him hold your son, your sweet boy, in that rocking chair that he built in this room he put together--you decide that a few more hours of comfortable sleep isn’t worth it. Tempurpedic mattress be damned. 

So, you just carefully cross the floor. The rug is soft beneath your bare feet when you lean forward and stroke your son’s head, careful to have a soft touch that will not wake him. And then you’re kissing Jake’s warm cheeks, stroking his blonde locks, too. 

Jake stirs slightly, eyes twitching. Your heart swells. 

You sink onto the floor before the rocking chair, leaning against Jake’s legs. The rain is lulling you already and you yawn as you rest your cheek on his thighs. The rug is comfortable--you’re glad you went for this one. Your son is happy and sleeping and your husband is holding him and everything is right in the world. 

And just as you’re about to fall asleep again, Jake’s thighs cushioning you, Jake’s hand falls into your hair. He strokes a few times in welcome--hi, baby. 

 “Missed you,” you mutter. 

“Missed you,” he returns. His hand glides through your hair. “All’s right in the world now, huh?” 

“Yeah,” you whisper. “It is.”

happy Father's Day to those who celebrate <3

[luimagines]

Wild Card! Pick something on the need to write list ideas you might have!

You know what? I'm writing Part Two of Dragon! King! Time and no one can stop me. >:D

I'm writing this for me!!!

Masterlist

Part one

Content under the cut!

"Where are they?" A deep growl shakes the entirely of the castle. "WHERE ARE THEY?!"

"Your Majesty, please calm down before you destroy the castle." Warrior bite his lips, not at all excited for the conversation he is about to have.

"They are supposed to come every two weeks." The kings growls incessantly. "If I had marked them by now, I would at least have a hint at what happened to them. Are you sure they haven't showed up at the apartment?"

"Positive, sir." Warrior begins to feel a little sick to his stomach, and it's not because of the residue magic that's being leaked into the air by the Ancient King himself. "All the gifts you've had me drop off are... untouched."

"It's been over a month! Almost two! And not a single note or announcement-!"

"They're not home." Warrior stresses. "They-"

The king catches the slip up. His dietic magic flares through the atmosphere, setting all dragons in a 300 miles radius on edge. "Captain, are you aware of their whereabouts?"

"...Your Majesty, I beseech you to sit down first." Warrior growls, feeling his own magic begin to rise to the surface. Little puff of flame escape his mouth despite his best efforts. He knows he would never win in a fire against the King. He is the king for a reason. But that doesn't mean he's still not capable of dealing a lot of collateral damage in the process.

King Link of Kokiri Kingdom growls up a storm, cracking the windows of the throne room before begrudgingly sitting on his throne. "Proceed." 'With caution', need not be mentioned. "Where are they?"

Warrior steels his nerve, setting his palms on fire to lessen the magic build up in his body. "The hospital."

The glass windows explode from the magical flare. All objects lift off of the floor by three feet, Warrior included. And the King has shifted into his full dragon form, taking up the majority of the space in the room due to his massive size and power.

Warrior is dropped non to gently and wastes no time shifting to his full dragon form as well, breathing the hottest wall of fire he can to get the King's attention off of raging towards the nearest hospital. He chars the floor and tapestries on the process, but this is more important.

"You can't go!"

"watch me."

"You aren't supposed to reveal her identify to the public!" Warrior reminds him. "She works undercover for a start and we knew this work could potentially injure them."

"which hospital, captain?" The King hardly looks at him and very seriously begin to gauge which wall the castle needs the least. "i'm going to claim what's mine and never let anything else threaten them."

Warrior curses the instinctual possessiveness of dragons. It never seems to end well once a human gets involved. "You cannot barge in there like a raging bull in a china shop! You'll destroy any trust they have in you. They've just started getting comfortable in your presence."

That seems to calm down the king somewhat. Time growls but manages to contain his magic at once. "....i'd frighten them."

"Exactly." Warrior doesn't allow himself to breathe a sigh of relief just yet. But this is progress.

A very long and pregnant pause settles over the throne room. In a flash of light, the King returns to his half form, growling up a storm and not at all aware of the damage to the castle. "Blast it all!"

Warrior shifts to his human form and brushes off his uniform. He's aware that the people of the castle have been talking about the King's upsets. It wasn't so bad when you had missed the first visit. He was marginally upset, but understanding, expecting a message at some point to explain why you hadn't shown up. Two weeks later, with no correspondence, you missed the second one and King Time had all but sent out a search party for you.

By the third, he was about to go mad with drive to find you.

The kingdom has never seen their cool and collected leader in such a state. Many believe that you (despite not knowing much about you as a whole) have bewitched the King and had one of the most beings in the world in the palm of your hand.

Which... isn't entirely wrong, Warrior admits. But what they didn't know is that you would rather have anything else and are constantly rejecting the King's attempts to court you discreetly.

It hasn't stopped the King, mind you, hence the gifts, but Warrior has never seen a man more head over heels for the most oblivious person.

The King has yet to stop growling but he has calmed himself down to once again look at Warrior in the eye. "...What's their condition? How long have they been there?"

Warrior sighs. That's confidential information. But... he wouldn't have the position he has if he wasn't the best at his job. "They were checked into the emergency room two days after your last meeting with them. Emergency surgery was instantly approved and they have been in the hospital for the past month. I... believe that they should have been approved to return home about a three days ago, should my calculations be correct."

Magic flares up once more as the king's rage turns against Warrior. It is a frightening sight.

"YOU KNEW!?"

Warrior holds a hand up, ignoring how everything fiber in his being is raised by the shackles. "Because I knew that you would want to smother them all the same once I continue this report. If you would allow me to do so."

Magic continues to pulse through the air but the King hasn't returned to his full dragon form, so Warrior has hope. However, the King's growls shake Warrior to his core despite his grade A acting skills. "Proceed."

Warrior gulps. "They... were critically wounded, presumably on the job. I kept this information to this day to buy them time to both return home and heal."

"what wounded them?"

Warrior hesitates.

"captain link."

"Bullets, sir. They had three bullet wounds."

A ferocious roar shakes the shattered windows from their frames, raining the glass to the cracked floor below.

"WHO?!"

"I don't know..." Warrior admits softly. "We'll have to ask them when they return..."

Because you will return, right? To them? To King Link?

You were so full of life and spunk. There was no way that this would have kept you down for long. You were critical, yes, but even Warrior managed to garner that you would have a miraculous recovery. Warrior is willing to bet it was due to the King's residue magic of his claim. It is quite potent.

Time manages to make his way back to his throne and all but collapses into it. His hands are shaking. "....For all that is good and holy...."

Warrior finally swallows the thick cotton in his mouth. It's difficult. "Your majesty... We must allow them to come back on their own terms. I'm sure they will explain everything."

Time shakes his head. "I've... never felt strongly over another before. All those employed under my kingdom and certainly under my castle are mine... but they... I want them here. I want them safe. I want them to... I just want them near me. I want to mark them. It's getting harder and harder to keep myself in check."

"I can see that, sir." Warrior jokes flatly. Now is not the time. "We all can see that. With the exception of them."

"And they don't even accept the help I'm offering to their face!" Time laments. "The last time was infuriating! You heard it! Some upstairs neighbor- Some secret admirer! It's been me! But I can't say anything and I'm forced to keep my affections to myself."

Warrior bites his tongue and lets the King take the needed breather after nearly destroying the castle from the inside out.

"Tell me honestly, Link, how helpless am I?"

"Yes."

A beat passes and Time sighs, giving his long time friend a small smile. "Where I would be without you, Captain?"

"Destroying the one shot you have to genuine romance, your majesty." Warrior smiles gently in return.

Time bite his lip, discreetly pinching the bridge of his nose to wipe the tears. "Do you think they'll keep the schedule? If nothing had happened they would be due to visit in the next three days."

"I'm not sure, your majesty." Warrior says kindly. "But we can always hope and try to look after them from afar."

Those three days couldn't have passed fast enough.

King Time paced through the throne room with his tail lashing out wildly, unable to calm himself down enough to take a sit and be patient about this.

Warrior feared he would forget how to be gentle if the moment came to it. There was still work to be done, and reconstruction hadn't finished on the throne room when the appointment arrived but the workers were shooed away for the time being as the King waited.

Just when the King was about to give up and call it day to scheme his new plan to care for you, the clock struck the late hour.

And you came.

Part 3

[writr4luvrs]

Anime Women/Femme x Yandere!Reader

tw: yandere!reader, stalking, invasion of privacy, toxic relationship, toxic work relationship, not proofread

featured: csm, aot, jjk girlies

She loves giving you affection, she adores seeing the light in your eyes shoot up when she showered you in attention, holding your head in her palms, pulling you closer as she strokes your cheeks, or poking and pinching those cute plushy parts on your body. Telling you how pretty you look today, gently wrapping her arm around your wasit, giving you soft pecks up to your ear.

You think you were so sneaky spying and eavesdropping on her conversations or downtime, nabbing her personals, invading her life under the radar. Your lucky she wanted something so cute and pretty to play around with and tease and tell what to do unconditionally. And you were so, so warm.

She'll let you think you won her over with cute flirts, lovey dove dates, and territorial staring when one of her co-workers or long term friends would get to close, ...for now.

Makima, Shōko, Hange, Mikasa, Historia whoever your other lesbian faves

[honey-words]

nishinoya yu, hange zoë, oikawa tooru, bakugo katsuki, itadori yuji, sasha braus, kaminari denki, jean kirstein, denji

masterlist

[sanjifucker42069]

Looks Like Lingerie to Me - Part Two

Word Count: 1.4k

Part 1

A belated and awkward part 2. I’ll start writing part 3 in the morning (it’s like 1am lmao)

For those who need a visual aid, here. (oof feels like wattpad or quotev but girlypops i am cringe but i am free. it isnt a perfect representation, but its pretty accurate. titilating, no? ;) )

Warnings: Lingerie lmao…this is pretty short, and is just a set-up for part 3. A lot of this is my own feelings surrounding cis men in lingerie. As with part 1 gender neutral reader. Yeah! Hope you enjoy!

---------------------------------------

Sanji couldn't stop thinking about it. You thought he'd look hot in lingerie? You thought he looked slutty?

It had overtaken every waking moment. Any time he wasn't focused on a task all he could see was the dumb stare you gave him, eyes focused on his thighs.

He'd love to wear lingerie for you if it meant you'd stare at him like that.

----------------------

The Going Merry was docked, the Straw Hats carrying out their duties, and Sanji had a plan.

"I'm gonna go shopping. You coming (Name)? Sanji can carry our bags." Nami preened, looking absolutely glowing at the prospect of new clothes. Sanji bit his lip. He wanted to go with Nami and you, really he did, but if either of you caught on he'd die of embarrassment.

"You okay, Ji?"

Huh?

You were asking something.

"What? Oh, yeah, love. I'm fine. I'm afraid I have business to attend to on the island."

You blinked at him before smiling that dazzling smile up at him. He was smitten, his fortitude nearly wavering. "Of course. You do what you gotta do!"

Business his ass. Instead he hurried to check out the town.

----------------------

A small, seedy shop tucked away in an alley. Sanji entered the store warily. A small, old woman trotted out from the back. Sanji blanched. He didn't want to discuss this with a grandma! 

"Hello young man, here for something for your wife?"

Sanji felt himself flush. He tried to wander around the store. "No, no-"

"Your girlfriend then?" 

Ah. This grandmother didn't know when to quit.

"Not exactly?"

The old lady grabbed his arm. Sanji raised a brow, turning back to her. She was grinning at him, eyes narrowed and sparkling with something he couldn't place.

"Is it for you? Such a handsome young man as yourself." 

What? Sanji's face was on fire. He was flustered beyond belief. His hands were lightly shaking, eyes darting around for anyone else in the store.

"Come with me darling. My name's Bea." The old lady chimed, dragging Sanji with her. "What colour were you thinking?"

"Oh, um." Sanji was panicking, voice high. Did she even have lingerie for men? "Blue?" 

Bea hummed. "I do have blue, but I have a lovely pink set that would just make your skin pop."

Pink? Sanji didn't think it was possible to flush darker, and yet here he was. "I, uh, would it even fit me?"

"Of course sonny! You're quite slim." Bea swatted at his arm, patting his biceps for good measure as she led him through the store. "So, tell me about the lucky one."

"They're beautiful." Sanji began dreamily. Where should he even start? "The most gorgeous creature I've ever laid my eyes on. They have this laugh that just brightens up any room, and such a sense of humour. I’ve been smitten with them since I met them.”

“You two aren’t together?”

Sanji shook his head sadly. “No, no. We’re just good friends. They, uh… Do you know what shirt stays are?”

Bea laughed, patting the cook on the arm. “Say no more.”

She let go of him when they reached the back of the store. Sanji watched nervously as she carded through a rack of, well, did it really constitute clothing? Skimpy piece after skimpy piece were revealed.

And then he saw it.

It was a gorgeous baby pink. Bea ahhed as she removed it from the rack, holding it up to inspect it. She turned to face him, sizing him up next to the set. Sanji felt his throat go dry as he really took it in.

The set was a simple baby pink bralette, made from some kind of sheer lacy material with a flower motif. The plunging neckline was created to draw attention to the cleavage, and it was adorned with some delicate string of pearl-like decoration to highlight the collarbones. The panties were the same sheer material, clear that they weren’t to hide much. The sides of it were accentuated with cute ruffles that further added a feminine touch. Sanji felt lightheaded. 

Finally, it was a beautiful pastel garter belt that sat in the middle, completing the look. It too was made from the same stretchy, sheer lace. It would wrap around the waist, strategic cutouts to accentuate the waist, hips, and the bellybutton. The central cutout had a simple chain of pearls to add interest and movement. Four satin-looking ribbons led from bottom front and back, with clips attached to hold up stockings.

Oh, maybe his shirt stays were kinda…

Nonetheless, it was breathtaking. Sanji had clearly marvelled at it for too long, as Bea chuckled, causing him to flush red. The old woman, lingerie in hand, led him to a mirror. 

“I’m…I can’t.”

Bea just chuckled, holding the hanger up against him. “Look in the mirror boy, I’ve been making lingerie for fifty years. This suits you.”

Sanji obeyed her, staring at himself in the mirror. What he saw took his breath away. He looked a mess, face red and hair messy. He had to hand it to the old woman, the colour was flattering against him. Even the cut looked good. Sanji shifted from foot to foot, anxiety creeping in. He wasn’t really sure how he felt about looking so…so feminine. 

Sanji was a man. It wouldn’t be right for him to wear something so delicate and gorgeous. Right? Of course women’s clothing was beautiful, the fabrics they used, the stylish designs he’d seen the girls on the ship sport. Men’s clothing just, well it was meant to be masculine and boring. Right? He couldn’t let himself give in to that want to feel pretty, that would be wrong.

Right?

Bea, clearly noticing his inner struggle, scoffed.

“Sonny.”

“Sanji.” “Right. Sonny, I’ve been doing this for a long time.” “You, uh, you already said that.”

“I know that!” Bea snapped, swatting at him. Sanji’s gaze drifted back to the pink lace. “I’ve been doing this for a long time. When I started, well, I made boring beige bras and the same lacy black underwear again, and again, and again. I got bored. I got creative! And when I got creative, I became determined to make people feel pretty. People, Sonny, not women.”

Sanji went rigid, his throat was so dry. Was he that obvious? All he could make out was a simple, “Oh?”

Bea grinned. “Everyone deserves the right to feel pretty.” Sanji opened his mouth to speak but the old woman just held up a wrinkled hand. “Nope. Don’t care if you’re a ‘man’. Everyone. Sonny, one day you’ll realise that being a ‘man’ is more than just grunting like an ape, or never showing any vulnerability, or even having a penis. Man is a state of mind, and Sonny, the sooner you feel comfortable in who you are, the more beautiful life is going to be for you.”

Sanji felt breathless. “Really?”

“Really.” Bea nodded, a fondness in her eyes. “Come, we’ll get you a choker to go with it, I have just the one.”

Sanji felt a million miles away as Bea led him to the shop counter. She handled a delicate pink satin choker with care, presenting it to him. It was a giant bow, a simple snap holding it in place around the neck. Simple, but delicate. If Sanji was honest with himself, he liked it.

“Like a million berry! Your precious one will love you in it!” Bea smiled fondly at him. “So, Sonny, you buying?”

Sanji sucked in a deep breath. When he spoke his voice was foreign to him, a shakiness underlying the wispiness. Sanji felt like he was treading water, unsure and scared of the newness of it all. He could drown at any moment.

“Yeah.”

“Good, good!”

So Sanji paid. Bea took extra care to wrap the lingerie up in a delicate pink tissue paper. His own little present. She then promptly put it in an unmarked bag. She understood, shooting him a wink.

“So, anyone, huh?”

“Oh yes, yes. You see, originally I made them for my girlfriend when I was a much younger lady. She was a farmer’s daughter, wonderful girl, shared many a kiss with her, and then some! Now I make these lovely ones for my current husband. You remind me a lot of him, Sonny. You see he lets me wear this harness thing that I put in his a-”

“Thank you grandma, I’ll be out of here now!”

“Yes, yes. Good luck, Sonny! Stop by with your sweetie and get something nice one day, okay?” Bea waved her goodbyes from the doorway, smiling that same sweet old woman smile. Sanji clutched the bag to his chest tightly. 

Right. Time to put the plan into place.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

lmaooo kenny watching you sleep is so creepy (might also be the type of person to randomly trace your nose to see if you'll wake up???)

i can imagine being in a relationship with kenny being like dealing with an unpredictable hot potato of an angry cat who can bite you at any given moment (but, like, the risks of getting scratched and bitten until you bleed outweigh petting a cute cat...)

also, i feel like kenny would just know random details about you?? like your ring size. or your shoe size. or, if you have period, when it starts. and ends. or that you used to have a fringe in seventh grade. or that your grandma likes to bake victoria sponge cake.

or like, casually remembering something small, and being, five years down the line, like, "Do you remember you told me on X day of the X week at X hour XYZ?"

and you're like ????

and sometimes, when kenny would be weirdly nice like getting you a blanket or really leaning into domesticity, you would like watch him like O.O what's next...?

would casually spring up things on you. "Let's get married." "Do you think I should test this out on a human?" "I am leaving for five days, don't contact me." "Should we freak your mother and father out by saying that I'm centuries old?" "You remind me of someone I knew in the sixteenth century. They were... interesting." "I got you a wedding dress, put it on. If you don't, there'll be consequences." "I don't think I'll kill you... I think."

high-key very unhinged... but at least you're kept on your toes all the time? right?

ANON . YOU GET IT.

he’s so fucking Weird . 100% stares at you sleeping and traces the bridge of your nose … smiles a little when that makes your face scrunch up a bit. he’s just fascinated by you i think!! by the fondness you make him feel. he’s like oh :) emotion :)….

AND YES. HE LITERALLY IS JUST A CAT. when it comes to dating kenny i feel like you sort of have to adjust to his whims….. he can definitely be silly and affectionate (in a mildly condescending way) but then he can also be very Cold. and come off as apathetic. he’s like a stray cat who waltzed into your home one day and let you pet and feed it…. sleeps in your bed and purrs when you scratch behind its ears but won’t hesitate to hiss if you do something he doesn’t like. random bouts of affection but only ever at his whim, y’know? like. he’s Your Cat but he also isn’t. he doesn’t always come home and it’s clear he has a life outside of you. but he likes your company enough to let you come closer than anyone else has been and that means a lot on its own!!! he’s just…. your mildly creepy cat. who watches you sleep with his big creepy eyes and protects you from the shadows.

BUT OK enough abt kenyaku (<- his Cat name)….. ANON I LOVE YOU. i agree!! on all points!!!! him knowing random little things about you….. randomly recalling certain things…. i feel like his memory is a little jumbled. kenjaku is the type to forget your bday but like … he’ll remember your thoughts on Every Single Character in the show you’ve been binging. or the exact tone of voice you had when you spoke to him for the first time. his love definitely shows in the little things… he might not tell you that he Loves You outright and i don’t think he’d care about making your relationship official in any way, but if you mention liking a brand of soda you’ll find one waiting for you in the fridge the next day. he’s cute. i’ve said this before a while ago but i also think kenny would take you on random trips a lot…. just to spend time with you!! but he doesn’t Tell You where you’re going so you just have to listen to him say ”we’re almost there ^_^” like 50 times. lmao.

ALSO BEFORE I FORGET . the period thing. you’re a genius anon. he just randomly sniffs you and then goes ”you’re on your period aren’t you” and you’re like ??? wtf is wrong with you ?????? (he was Right btw) LIKE HE’S SO STRANGE. you don’t need a period tracker because he’ll just casually let you know you’ll be getting your period tomorrow. and that it’ll probably be a little worse than usual. and he’s Always right so you just have to nod.. silently…. trying not to give him side eye……… for the record i think he also takes care of you well during your Time of The Month. tries to be a little more tender because he knows you’re sensitive and doesn’t really want to deal with you crying (he doesn’t like seeing you in distress but that’s a secret)….. makes sure you’re taking ibuprofen. makes sure you get some fresh air. lets you sleep on his lap like a puppy while he reads. places one of his big warm hands on your lower stomach. he’s a little more indulgent i think.

but ok period comfort ASIDE . the random bouts of affection/domesticity….. you Get it anon. i think he’s actually fairly physically affectionate but it’s never something He initiates. he just expects you to know when it’s okay to cling to him and not. so if he pulls you into his lap or covers you in a blanket or whatever you kind of melt a bit…. i DO think he’s a frequent hair-ruffler though. and a serial booper. he’ll mess up your hair and boop your nose and you just have to Deal with it. get booped idiot. (it’s how he shows affection :3)

"Let's get married." "Do you think I should test this out on a human?" "I am leaving for five days, don't contact me." "Should we freak your mother and father out by saying that I'm centuries old?" "You remind me of someone I knew in the sixteenth century. They were... interesting." "I got you a wedding dress, put it on. If you don't, there'll be consequences." "I don't think I'll kill you... I think."

AND FINALLY. THIS. i went insane btw. all of these r so real and true anon …. he’s just kind of silly and weird and tiptoes that line between hot and cold. but he Cares for you in his own weird way.

and!!! i don’t think he would ever kill you!!!!! i do think he’d say that last line but only to see your reaction lmao. compared to other jjk villains kenny is never shown killing anyone on a pure whim, obviously he doesn’t Mind doing it but it’s not something i see him doing casually yk?? especially not to someone whose company he genuinely enjoys…. maybe if he thinks he’s getting Too attached to you? :0 idk but!! i feel like kenny keeps you around for as long as he possibly can if he cares for you. spending time with you is important to him. even if he randomly disappears now and then. (if he genuinely Loves you i think there’s a good chance he’ll just throw you over his shoulder and bring you with him LMAO)

BUT YES. i’m OBSESSED with him. thank you soso much for feeding my kenny thoughts anon <333 the kenny talks i’ve been having lately r Really tempting me to finish some kenny fics T_T….. soon.

[gunksh1t]

It almost hurts, how much I love you, but I'll endure for you. You're the one that even allowed me to feel your pulse under my palms. I need you so badly, I need you to be utterly and completely mine. Mine mine mine. Please just be mine, or I'll have to make you mine but I'm sure it'll be fine either way, right? That's why you don't mind my fingernails cutting into the soft flesh of your throat, right? Because I love you and I know you love me too. I just know it, I can feel it in the way you're gripping my wrists so tightly and scratching my arms, I just know it's out of all your merciful love.

So Pretty. Your tears are so so pretty, hehe I think your crying face is the prettiest. It's so beautiful, I wish I could keep this image in front of me forever, because you're so happy aren't you? so happy that we can finally be together forever that you graced my eyes with such a beautiful expression.

Don't worry, nothing will tear us apart anymore because I love you too much. I can't stand the thought of you being away, even if it's just for a moment. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you so much so don't ever leave me, okay?

Ah- I'm so sorry, please forgive me for dirtying you with such an ugly face like mine and such vile tears from my eyes but bear with it for just a little while longer. Just until we're finally one, please for me, just this once please. Just a little bit longer and maybe you'll even get those pretty marks around your neck again and they'll even last forever this time!

I can feel your adorable scratching get weaker and we're almost over and I'll finally be blessed with you being tied forever with such a disgusting existence.

But I know you'll forgive me because we love each other so much, right?

I love you.

[throwmethroughawindow]

sometimes i go through little phases where I find Bakugou one of the most attractive anime characters ever and I love everything about him and then a couple weeks later I wanna gouge my eyes out for thinking that and I wanna scrub all my fics of him off the internet

[14dyh]

i have The Urge to write a hange x reader fic based on classic books, short stories, or movies but what classic lit/art exactly? that's the question.

[roosterbruiser]

I am thinking about Jake being uncomfy w touch from most people (and therefore being a little unknowingly touch starved) but doing small things to get your touch: leaning his head towards you so you play with his hair, gently touching your leg to get your attention, wrapping your ankles together under the table.

And the reader maybe not 100% picking up on it at first until he comes out and says it? Okay ily thanks for listening 🫶🏻🫶🏻

you've noticed it here and there--nothing outwardly in-your-face that screams help me! I'm touch-starved! no, it's much smaller than that. so much smaller that you don't realize it on your own at all.

like when you're at the grocery store and Jake comes up behind you, peppering your throat with kisses in the produce aisle as the sprinklers lightly wet the goosed skin of your forearms. like when he stands with his chest pressed against your back, arms caging you in, as he holds onto the cart and pushes as you do.

"looked heavy," he always insists softly, a smile tugging at his lips.

or when you're watching a movie at home, your feet resting on the coffee table beside his. he's always tucked up right beside you, his arm on the back of the touch behind your head. sometimes, during a more boring part, he'll gently drag his fingers through your hair and watch your face for a few moments. and when you catch him, he always squeezes your thigh, smiles coyly, and shrugs his way through a half-hearted apology.

"you're much more interesting than Bridget Jones," he'll say.

when you go to The Hard Deck with him, he's always hands-on. palm resting on your knee as you sit at the bar, chin on your shoulder while he waits for his turn in pool, body molded around yours as he teaches you how to shoot darts, lips against your cheek and fingers wrapped around your wrist when you excuse yourself to head to the restroom.

"don't be too long," he always teases, laughing when you roll your eyes.

right now, under the blue sky and before the dying fire pit in Maverick's backyard, you're beside Javy. the two of you are watching Jake and Rooster try and help Amelia do her first ever cartwheel in the grass, paper plates balanced on your knees.

"you're special," Javy says with a broad grin, waggling his eyebrows at you as you watch your boyfriend spot Amelia. "he's so whipped."

"oh, is that what you've decided?" you ask with a small smile, glancing at him.

"no, really," Javy insists. "that man's all over you."

you shift to look at Javy with a perched brow.

"yeah, that's the thing about being in love," you tease. "anyway, isn't he all over everyone?"

when Javy barks out a laugh, you bite your lip.

"sweetheart, he's not all over anyone any time--at all." when you look at him with an expression of disbelief covering your features, he nods to Jake. "we've been friends since the academy. I think he's hugged me...once? and when he saved Rooster's life? they shook hands. shook hands!"

with a peculiar sour taste on your tongue, you glance back at your boyfriend. and then it's suddenly clear as day--he doesn't really touch anyone but you. even now, as he's helping Amelia on the grass, his hands are merely hovering her shoulders. he's standing several paces away from Rooster.

"racking your brain?" Javy asks, arms crossed. "don't waste your time. I'm right!"

sticking your tongue out at Javy, you set your plat on the grass and stand up, starting for your boyfriend.

he notices you immediately--like he always does when you head in his direction. he's grinning immediately, one that eats all his features until he's just dimples and lips and teeth, hands resting on his hips.

Rooster, who's watching slyly, starts to casually hum the bridal march. Jake doesn't stop him.

"hey," you say softly as you approach. "get her into the Olympics yet?"

"almost," Jake sighs, immediately wrapping you up in his arms and pulling you against him. "she's just gotta believe in herself!"

Amelia, with her face red and her disposition less than sunny, huffs at Jake.

"I'm trying!"

Jake laughs, kissing the top of your head, resting his hands on your hips as he connects your bodies. you melt into him--just like he likes.

it feel so very natural to be up against him, being held tight under the dying sky. no wonder you hadn't exactly noticed that he isn't like this with everyone else--when he holds you, it just feels like something that's in his nature.

when you glance back over at Javy, he has his arms crossed over his chest. he's grinning from ear to ear, rapidly doing a whip motion in the air.

[mariusroyale]

in other news ive saved two hotch/reader fics that i heavily relate to and have a recurring theme and im beginning to see an unhealthy pattern 😭😭💀

[nightmare-dreamt]

hi! can i please have a matchup for chainsaw man, attack on titan, & tokyo rev? im bisexual & use she/her pronouns :)

for my personality, id say im pretty bubbly and excitable. i’m also an esfj & cancer, if that’s useful information at all andkwneke. i try to look on the bright side and try to cheer up people when they’re sad. im very affectionate with the people im close to, and i kinda cling onto my friends arms and hug them a lot. i love anything soft or cute, especially animals!! im kinda scared of bugs though, but i still always try to take them outside, even if i have to go kicking and screaming. i get distracted pretty easily, and have pull my friends off the track they were on so we could all pet dogs (they were so cute!!). i also really like going for walks, shopping, yoga, baking, and reading. i really like to look after people, but sometimes that makes it so i kinda disregard my own needs. im a bit of people pleaser, and i tend to look for the best in others! though i can’t really tolerate it if somebody is overly cruel or rude to the people i care about.

for my appearance, im 5’1 & have fairly long light brown hair. my eyes are hazel, im fairly pale with a few freckles sitting across my face, & my cheeks are perpetually rosy andjfjjek. my style is usually pretty soft & girly, & i really like dressing up even if i’m not going anywhere. i also really like to do makeup, both on myself and others. like, i’ll be in pjs and putting on lip gloss and my mom makes fun of me for it. also since i’m on the shorter side, i like to wear platform shoes since being tall makes me feel cool!

please & thank you!!!

Matchup for Rezqwr!

Chainsaw Man: Denji

He thought you were adorable going around the park petting every dog you see with your soft style of clothing. Once the two of you get into a relationship, trips to the park are a must and every dog that passes by is getting a pet no matter what. Denji seems like a dog person and I can see the two of you in the future owning a dog and loving it extremely.

When seeing a bug in your place, a loud scream was heard scaring the blonde internally before seeing the creature and wondering what you were afraid of. Removing the bug from your place, you crawled up onto your table searching for any other little crawlers that were scattering around. He thought it was funny seeing you afraid of something that was barely half of your size.

Denji's the type of partner to make jokes and tease, he tends to make fun of your height and talk about the difference between the two of you. If there's something on your face, Denji won't say anything and wait till someone else notices thinking that and all o his other jokes to be the funniest thing ever, that is until he makes a joke that actually hurts you. He never means to be rude or upset you with his joking, but when he does do something that goes to far he makes sure to make up for it going to Makima-san for advice. He then sets up a whole date with flowers and a candle lit dinner for the two of you as a way to apologize for making you upset

Attack On Titan: Hange Zoe

Your guys' personalities get along well, the two of you are bubbly and filled with loads of energy. especially when doing the things that make you happy. Hange enjoys your company, even if the two of you get side tracked, she usually brings you to her lab as a form of company. You're always willing to help her with her experiments, but Hange won't let you do anything to dangerous like the rest of the people she does test on.

You're very affectionate and so is Hange, she can't go a day without being by your side feeling the warmth of your embrace. Waking up in the moming is her favorite since she can see your beautiful face sleeping and cuddle close enjoying the couple of minutes of silence you two have.

You guys take couples yoga. Hange wasn't sure about it at first, but she got into it after a while and began to enjoy the moment between the two of you. (She also enjoys seeing your flawless body attempt the stretch and you've caught her multiple times staring, but you don't bring it up to save her the embarrassment)

Tokyo Rev: Nahoya Kawata

Having a birthday in late May, Nahoya would be a gemini and from information I've found online, Cancer and Gemini are extremely compatible together. The two have extremely good communication and help each other become better people with Cancer bringing the Gemini out of their shell.

You tend to look at the bright side of things and Nahoya loves that about you always having a smile on both of your guys faces. You guys are very similar, always wanting to help those who are close to you and trying to find ways to cheer them up.

It took him some time to notice, but the more people who were in need of help, the more you disregarded your own needs, putting others before yourself. He understands wanting to help and being there for everyone, but he also worries that you're not looking out for yourself and soon you might get hurt because of it. Protective boyfriend unlocked. Now, Nahoya checks up and makes sure you're taking care of yourself, seeing if you drank enough water and ate three meals.

[xappetites]

hate getting ideas in the middle of the gd work day because i have like 5 mins to give this currently but

Soap x military reader where reader tags along for the countdown mission but get hit in the crossfire so they can’t exactly be w/Soap and Price for the bomb defusing

but they can see it all go down and keep having the image of a different life, where a different Price shows up to a home they don’t have with nothing but a guilty conscience and Johnny’s id disks that read Captain, playing in the back of their mind like a memory that doesn’t quite belong to them

and then there’s Makarov with a gun to Soap’s head and the fear/grief feels like it echoes across more than one timeline for them, endless parallel lives where they love this one man and irrevocably lose him again and again

[joelsdagger]

*clears throat and grabs the mic*

excuse me i have some words i would like to share with everyone....

NIC AKA USER OVARYACTED HAS THE BIGGEST FILTHIEST NASTIEST MOST BEAUTIFUL BRAIN IN THE WHOLE ENITRE WORLD. i knew i was getting absolute perfection when you told me you were working on an old man!logan fic but this is BEYOND that and i don't even know how you managed to do that. i screamed a shit ton below…..please forgive me for the longest reblog anyone has ever seen.

“Yeah? You missed your old man, darlin’?” he asked, the corner of his lip curling up as he gave you a cheeky squeeze.

like just immediately. right off the bat, i sighed the deepest sigh ever known to this world. your old man????? YOUR OLD MAN!?!?!?!?! you know what that shit does to me nic omfg.

A pretty young thing like you shouldn’t be messing around with an old, broken man like him, especially someone on borrowed time.

"borrowed time" made me tear up. fuck man.

Why would he reject your affections if he was all you wanted? Hasn’t he been unhappy long enough?

nic you know how i feel why would you say that?!?!??!?!!? 😖☹️

He grabbed a pillow from the couch and tossed it to his feet, pointing to the ground and instructing you to kneel for him.

OH MY FUCKING GOD. MY FLABBERS ARE GASTED.

Shuddering at Logan’s command, you twisted to dig your knees into the pillow below you, arching your ass up in the air. You crossed your arms in front of you, resting your head on your forearms as you focused on steadying your breathing. Closing your eyes, you waited for any indication of what Logan might do next—a word, a sign, anything. His hand brushed over your ass with possessive affection, widening his palm to hold as much skin as he could grab, releasing his grip before doing it a second time. The other hand held up the glass of whiskey, refilled for a third time while you were preoccupied with getting into position. His hand remained on your rear, stroking here and there with his thumb, grazing over the material of your underwear. Another sip of his drink sent you deepening the arch of your back, presenting yourself and silently asking for more of his attention, the very thing you couldn’t seem to live without. “Patience. I just wanna look at you, so you stay there and behave.”

holy wow. this. all of this. this is so incredibly sexy. how he just wants to look at her but he doesn’t even just look at her, he fucking GAWPS at her. and the fact that it makes her feel so good about herself. ugh. i'm in love with your brain. and i’m PISSED this isn’t me right now.

The feel of cool glass surprised you, flinching forward as Logan sat his whiskey cup on your ass cheek, using your skin as his personal coaster.

MY FLABBERS HAVE BEEN GASTED AGAIN WHAT THE FUCK. THIS IS SO HOT I CANT THINK STRAIGHT I HAVE NO THOUGHTS IN MY HEAD.

It’s a shame you weren’t wearing your plug. Maybe next time.

the way my jaw DROPPED. like it’s not even attached to my head anymore. my jaw is just GONE. you can't just throw this in here like that what the fuck nic?????!?!?!?!?!? what is wrong with you????????

“Just wanted to say hi and give him a kiss, Daddy,” you giggled playfully, throwing him a cheeky smile. God, he’s so fucked. “Yeah? He likes it when you do that, especially when you use your mouth,” he leaned back into the couch, motioning for you to get to work.

them using cock pronouns is so hot WHY IS THAT SO HOT FUCK!!!!!

“Course you do. Trained your slutty holes to take me so well.”

bro. bro. BRO. WHAT. OH MY GOD. TRAINED YOUR SLUTTY HOLES TO TAKE ME SO WELL!??!??@$?#?%$?$ GOD HELP ME PLEASEEE!!!!!!!!

It was a skill you always had but kept secret for the most part until you met the right man, the only man who deserved it.

um hello not this read 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨 nic lmfaoooooo

“My pretty girl. Having fun down there?”

oh my god. what the hell. what. the. hell.

You were melting, nerves firing up with every harsh jab Logan gave you, your head devoid of thought, the connection between your brain and the rest of your body evaporated into thin air. Like this, he could have you at your best, fully trusting him with your life. A man like him, turned into a monster and spat out by the world’s cruelty, can now fulfill his purpose in tending to a lost lamb like you who had become ensnared in the predator’s web.

this entire paragraph. nic. oh nic. your brain. i need to study it bc how— "a lost lamb like you who had become ensnared in the predator's web". like how does one come up with that????

“Know you're close bunny, just need a little push.”

okay. PAUSE. not this awakening a new kink up for me......ofc you would manage to do that. fucking hell.

Bestowing a final kiss to your forehead, he whispered those three words over the shell of your ear, closing his eyes as exhaustion lured him to join you. He hoped you could hear his confession in your dreams, and of course, if you didn’t, he’ll just have to remind you again when dawn breaks.

your beautiful TALENTED BRAIN bby. god i just had the time of my life while reading this fic. they are so in love. HE LOVES HER. 🥺 and i love them. nic i love them so much. 😭😭😭😭😭

twin. twin. what if i just died. huh. what if i just walked into traffic. fling myself off a cliff and let the big blue take me. how about that. this was so beautiful and so damn sexy and everything i could have ever imagined. i absolutely loved them and their dynamic. this is such a long reblog and i'm so sorry but i truly could not pick out every single one of my favorite moments otherwise it would have been a copypasta of your entire fic. thank you for this nic. i can't say it enough. you wrote the most perfect logan fic ever. but i expected nothing less from you. i know you were so worried about this but you had no reason to be bc this is genuinely my favorite logan fic i've ever fucking read. god it's just liquid gold. and i am never gonna let it go. i loved this so much. i love reader and i love logan and i love you and i adore you my beautiful talented pisces sister. my twin!!!!!!!!

SUGAR ON THE RIM

─ Old Man! Logan Howlett x fem! reader || WC: 6.3k

SYNOPSIS: When Logan comes home after finishing his driving rounds for the night, you help him wind down and enjoy a drink.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. SMUT. Assumed age gap [Logan is canon age, reader is 25+]. Daddy Dom! Logan. DDLG dynamic. Heavy Daddy kink. Subspace. Overstimulation. Praise kink. Slight degradation. Pet names (hun, baby, doll, sweetheart, darlin’, angel, honey, bunny). Alcohol consumption (Logan drinks whiskey). Pussy & Cock pronouns. Stripping. Spitting in the mouth. Squirting. Slight anal play. Allusions to past anal play. Body worship. Oral sex (m! & f! receiving). Oral fixation. Throat fucking. Pussy inspection. Fingering (f! receiving). Unprotected p in v. Creampie. Missionary & mating press positions. Power play. Biting kink. Implied Marking kink. Cock warming. The claws come out when Logan cums hard. Logan’s slightly insecure but passionate. Reader has hair & likes black lace.

A/N: I wrote this as a birthday gift for @/joelsdagger. Happy birthday twinnie bae, my Scorpio sister, I adore you so much my chest hurts thinking about it. I hope you like this, and thank you for being my friend. 🫶 Thank you to @/ozarkthedog for proofreading, I’m always grateful for your eyes, encouragement, and support. Hope you all like this one, I’m very proud of it and had a lot of fun! As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated. <3 (Reupload because tumblr hates me sorry.)

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

Long nights chauffeuring in the limo always dampened Logan’s mood, the last thing he wanted or needed was to move around when his body simply desired to be home. Regardless of how tired he felt and how much his limbs ached with the poison that tainted his blood, he grinned and bore it as he completed his rounds late into the night.

He’s been on this Earth long enough to see the worst and the best of humanity. Every day was a coin toss to test his luck and see which side he’d have to deal with. The ravages of time have reduced him to nothing but an old, irate cab driver, the voice in the back of his head constantly nagging over the bullshit he’s had to endure until this point.

Pulling into the driveway of the quiet apartment complex, his hands fumbled into his pockets in search of the keys to the front door. With a metallic jingle, he inserted the matching keys into the corresponding locks he had bolted to the front door. His patience wore thin as the locks clicked one by one, his palm landing on the door handle to open it wide.

The floorboards creaked as he stepped inside, crossing the threshold and closing the door behind him. Shrugging off his suit jacket, he pulled at his tie to undo the knot, unbuttoning his cuffs as he made his way to the kitchen. He wasn’t surprised when he found a bottle of Jack Daniels on a counter and his preferred glass next to it, prepared in advance for his arrival. Reaching into the fridge for some ice cubes, he drops in two with a clink, screwing the top off the bottle and pouring a heaping amount into the glass.

He took two hefty gulps of the drink, the cool liquid soothing his tongue as the familiar taste of aged whiskey graced his taste buds. The murmur of a hum rumbled in his chest, taking the bottle back to the living room as he flopped on the couch. It didn’t take long to finish the first drink after another round of sips, quickly refilling it a second time, too immersed in his thoughts to hear the soft call of his name from the corner of the room.

“Logan?”

His ears perked up at the sound of your voice, turning his neck with tense eyes that softened at the sight of you. Sleep was still evident on your features as you wore one of his white shirts, buttoned halfway across the middle of your chest, the edge of the white fabric draping over your hips. If he squinted his eyes, he’d see the hints of black lace that barely covered your mound, silently tempting him into the habits he was so familiar with after work.

“You’re home,” you noted, an affirmation that he hasn’t left you alone just yet. He promised he wouldn’t, for as long as he could manage. “Long night?”

“Yeah. Didn’t mean to wake you, sweetheart,” Logan muttered apologetically.

“It’s fine. I couldn’t sleep much anyway.” You stepped closer to where he sat on the couch, standing next to him. You had mentioned once or twice how hard it was to sleep when he wasn’t home, not knowing whether you’d wake up to his arms wrapped around you or to an empty bed. 

“C’mere,” he stuck out a hand in invitation, accepting it with one of your own and gracefully situating yourself over his thick lap.

You pressed your hips against his, both of your thighs rubbing on either side of his legs. His rigid body began to relax at the feel of you against him, releasing a sigh as one of your hands ran over the expanse of his broad chest, the other caressing his taut shoulders. His palm came towards your lower back, fingers itching to clasp the fat of your ass as he enjoyed his whiskey.

“Missed you,” you mumbled, placing a kiss on the column of his throat, his pulse beating at the contact.

“Yeah? You missed your old man, darlin’?” he asked, the corner of his lip curling up as he gave you a cheeky squeeze.

“I always do. Always think about you when you’re gone.”

Logan whizzed in satisfaction at your answer, rubbing your thigh as you sat comfortably on top of him. The deepest parts of him were often filled with shame, knowing he managed to capture your attention for himself when you could have anybody else. A pretty young thing like you shouldn’t be messing around with an old, broken man like him, especially someone on borrowed time. He was too self-aware of the blatantly obvious age gap between you. Born at different times, having different lives and realities so vastly diverse, a connection like this was sure to fall apart at some point.

Yet he couldn’t seem to let you go—he didn’t dare to.

Your attention, your desire, and your loyalty felt too good for him to pass up. He knows he probably should’ve ended this relationship long ago, cut you loose to let you speak to people your age, people who were more than willing to give you everything you desired. His ego wouldn’t let him free you, not when the day brightened whenever you beamed at him or when your touch soothed the pains in his weary bones. He couldn’t help but indulge in the adoration and worship you gave him so willingly without expecting anything else in return. You were his reward for all of the pain and suffering he’s survived from walking over the planet for damn near 200 years. 

Why would he reject your affections if he was all you wanted? Hasn’t he been unhappy long enough?

“I think about you too, princess. All the time,” his voice lowered an octave as he spoke, kissing your cheek and bringing you closer by the waist.

Princess.

He caught your shiver when he used the pet name, one that was only reserved for your acknowledgment. It was more than just a term of endearment; to you, it was a sign that you were his and only his.

Tilting forward, you kissed his waiting lips, tasting the whiskey he’d been drinking. Your hands ran through his graying hair, fingers clutching at the strands while he handled your thigh, longing to bring you as close as possible. The fabric of the white button-down you wore rubbed against his, the hardened peaks of your nipples poking through the material from the friction.

He drew back from your mouth, noticing your pupils were blown with lust as you glanced at him, desire pooling in your gut.

“I’ve had a long fucking day, baby, been driving everywhere. You want to help your old man feel better?” He could've laughed at how quickly you nodded. He caressed your cheek, instinctively tilting your face into his hand as you waited for your cue to continue. 

“Wanna show Daddy what he missed while he was working?” There it was, the signifier that this wasn’t just a moment of comforting Logan after a long night shift. It was your time to shine; the spotlight was now on you to show gratitude for the man who worked so hard to care for you.

“Yes, Daddy.”

With one last peck on the lips, you stood up on your two legs, the thrill of entering the submissive role you played so well swiftly took over you. Your fingers started to unbutton the white shirt that covered your body, taking your time plucking each button from its designated hole while Logan observed you.

The shirt fell to the floor the next second, hazel eyes hungrily raking over your bare figure. His gaze drifted past the valley of your breasts and beyond your belly button to your panty-clad pussy, the black lace concealing what he desperately craved underneath. He could order you to take your underwear off right now if he wanted; watch with a grin as you peeled them down your legs and flung them to the side. Instead, he’ll humor you for a bit longer.

He grabbed a pillow from the couch and tossed it to his feet, pointing to the ground and instructing you to kneel for him. Without hesitation, you dropped to your knees and waited for his next order like he’s trained you to do. Peering up at him, he pinched your chin between his thumb and forefinger, your breath growing unsteady as you waited in anticipation.

“Turn around for me. I want to look at you for a bit before you do anything else.”

Shuddering at Logan’s command, you twisted to dig your knees into the pillow below you, arching your ass up in the air. You crossed your arms in front of you, resting your head on your forearms as you focused on steadying your breathing. Closing your eyes, you waited for any indication of what Logan might do next—a word, a sign, anything.

His hand brushed over your ass with possessive affection, widening his palm to hold as much skin as he could grab, releasing his grip before doing it a second time. The other hand held up the glass of whiskey, refilled for a third time while you were preoccupied with getting into position.

His hand remained on your rear, stroking here and there with his thumb, grazing over the material of your underwear. Another sip of his drink sent you deepening the arch of your back, presenting yourself and silently asking for more of his attention, the very thing you couldn’t seem to live without.

“Patience. I just wanna look at you, so you stay there and behave.”

You huffed out a breath, letting him do as he wished for however long he wanted. You were lucky he had the decency to give you a pillow for your knees, thankful for his generosity compared to his usual grumpy self. Still, you didn’t mind his treatment as long as he focused primarily on you.

The feel of cool glass surprised you, flinching forward as Logan sat his whiskey cup on your ass cheek, using your skin as his personal coaster. You gasped at the sudden temperature change, a shudder rolling down your spine and settling at the junction of your backbone. The man seated behind you chuckled, bringing his fingers to lightly skim the gusset of your panties, not surprised to feel the material damp under his touch. A low moan radiated from you at the contact, holding your breath when his thumb moved higher, teasing your other hole with the faintest amounts of pressure.

It’s a shame you weren’t wearing your plug. Maybe next time.

“Already achin’, sweetheart? Thought I taught you better than that.” His touch was constant, running lines up and down your cunt through the fabric that shielded you.

“I just missed you, Daddy,” you replied meekly, fighting the urge to grind your hips into his hand.

“I know you did, baby. Pussy can’t last a day without needing somethin’ from me. Is that it? You want Daddy to give her some love, huh?” His fingers found your clit through the material, rubbing circles over the bundle and forcing a whine out of you.

“Please, please…”

As quickly as he started, he pulled away, lifting your head and darting back at him with a slight pout. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t have to. The smirk on his face let you know that you weren’t getting off that easily.

“Not so fast darlin’. Need you to do something first.” Logan gestured to the growing bulge in his black slacks, straightening your back and pivoting to face him. “You wanna be a doll and take care of this for me?”

You didn’t waver in reaching for the bump under Logan’s pants, the metal of his belt buckle beckoning you to come closer. Crawling to place your hands preemptively on his knees, your touch wafted over his thighs and to what you sought after most. Your agile fingers tugged his belt off, yanking it through the pant loops and letting it hit the floor with a thud.

You marveled at how hard he was for you, feeling him through his dark briefs, a faint stain growing near the waistband. Pressing your face into his groin, you breathed him in, setting a kiss over his erection through the black cotton. Logan knows he’s ruined you for anybody else—a pervert of his own making, mimicking the same behaviors and reactions he gave you when he was between your legs, worshiping you as if his life depended on it.

In all honesty, it probably did.

“You gonna keep teasing me? Or are you gonna get to the good stuff?" His stern tone brought you back to the present.

“Just wanted to say hi and give him a kiss, Daddy,” you giggled playfully, throwing him a cheeky smile.

God, he’s so fucked.

“Yeah? He likes it when you do that, especially when you use your mouth,” he leaned back into the couch, motioning for you to get to work.

You tugged on the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down along with his slacks until they dropped to his knees. The length of him bobbed against his stomach, holding him by the base to keep him upright. Heat coursed through your body at the sight of him, hard just for you. Always for you.

You kissed the crown of his cock, the faint taste of his precum hitting your lips, licking it off demurely. Your mouth moved lower, tracing the vein you loved feeling against your tongue and handling the two balls that held the most treasured part of him. Smooching each ball of skin, Logan’s groan received another one of your airy chuckles.

You had him in the palm of your hand—literally and figuratively.

Wrapping your mouth around his tip, you lowered yourself until your nose smashed into his pelvis. Breathing in through your nose, you dragged your head back before bobbing over him, using one hand to keep his cock steady and the other to cup his balls. The weight of him on your tongue was comforting, humming to yourself as his tangy flavor filled your senses.

You were in your own little world, peeking upwards at the man before you. A sharp canine sunk into his bottom lip as he held your stare, a smug expression on his aged face. Downing the rest of his whiskey in one swallow, he held the empty glass in one hand and cradled the back of your head with the other.

“Perfect fuckin’ mouth, baby. You like the taste of me?” You moaned around him in reply, loud and unabashed as you bucked your head faster over him. “Course you do. Trained your slutty holes to take me so well.”

His words emboldened you, moving more insistently and adding your hands to the mix. With a flick of your wrist, you jerked your hand over his length, the living room filling with the sounds of your gagging and slurping. The way you sucked dick was debauched—nasty and messy—just the way he liked, the way he taught you. It was a skill you always had but kept secret for the most part until you met the right man, the only man who deserved it.

Sucking him off with enthusiasm was easy when he’d pour out words of encouragement more than you could keep track of. It was easier to let your mind run empty with every pass of him over your tongue. A gag one second, a gurgle the next, you enjoyed this, being at his mercy—being good for him the best way you knew how.

“That’s it. Good fucking girl. You like using your mouth on Daddy? Getting me all messy?”

You towed your head back and exhaled, continuing to stroke him with one hand covered in spit while you diverted your attention lower. Running your wet muscle over his balls, you lavished your tongue over one of them, pussy clenching around nothing at the grunt Logan unleashed deep within his chest.

You knew just what he needed, what he wanted. Making sure he was covered in slobber, your fingers continued their movements, squeezing his testes as you glimpsed at him. Your cheeks warmed, showing your lover the starry-eyed expression he loved so much. Eyes bleary with tears threatening to slip out, lips plump from sucking him off so fervently, saliva coating your bottom lip and chin. You’ve never looked so pretty.

How did he get so lucky?

“My pretty girl. Having fun down there?”

You nodded, kissing the tip of his cock once more and plunging him back into your awaiting mouth with a sigh, pushing forward until he was hitting the back of your throat. The coarse pubic hair at the base of him pressed into your nostrils, the musky scent of him making your clit throb in your soaked underwear, the lace sticking to your skin. The palm of his hand kept you shoved against him until you lifted off for air, your throat constricting from the force of it and a string of spit connecting you to his length.

“Love when you’re in my throat, Daddy. Never want you to leave,” you admitted bashfully, your voice cracking from your esophagus being stretched.

“Can slip me inside if you want. You want me back here?” he questioned, his free hand wrapping around your throat, delivering a light squeeze that sent your blood flowing south. A nod from you was all the confirmation he needed to bring you closer, thrusting his hips upwards into the warmth of your mouth without restraint.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at his continuous lunges, sharp eyes carousing how easily you gave yourself up for him. For his comfort, his peace, his happiness—all that ever mattered was him. Curling your hair in his fist, Logan’s regard stayed on your face as tears streamed down your cheeks and saliva dribbled out of you the faster he moved. Your nails scratched along his thigh, knowing the red streaks would heal within an hour and stay momentarily as a faint reminder that he was yours. His cock twitched at the sensation, chasing the high that was right around the corner with one more drive of his hips.

The pain that followed from your scraping was his undoing, tossing his head back and falling over the edge. He spilled into your mouth with a growl, your throat compressing around him to swallow his spend, not letting a drop go to waste. His adam's apple bobbed in an attempt to engulf some air that escaped him; your breathing labored as you grasped his legs to ground yourself.

Regaining some control, he carefully dragged you off of him, his softened cock flopping on his lower stomach, letting you finally breathe through your mouth. Holding your cheeks, his thumbs wiped at your tears and collected some of his release from the corner of your lip. He pushed it back inside your mouth, your tongue winding mischievously around the thick digit before detaching from it with a pop.

“Did I do good?” Your voice filtered through the light tingling between his ears, head gone blank from the intense climax you granted him. He should give you a gold medal for that performance, truthfully. Having you sit on your knees, throat abused and voice breaking as you sought after his approval and praise. He’ll never get used to this sight, all for him to enjoy.

“You did. You always do, sweetheart. C’mere and give me a kiss, I want a taste.”

Shuffling on shaky legs, you hauled up Logan’s slacks and briefs as you repositioned yourself. Now situated on Logan’s lap, you meshed your lips together, swirling your tongue around his as he grumbled at the taste of him in your mouth. You towed him closer by the collar of his button-down, beginning to undo each button until you could finally touch him through his faded white tank. His hands curved across your backside, playing with the ruined lace of your underwear as you shifted on top of him. You sought after more than promises and the ghost of his touch, hoping he’d reciprocate the favor and reward you for your hard work.

“Want you so bad. It hurts,” Logan’s acute ears registered your pitiful whine, his lips bending into a smirk.

“Feeling a little neglected, angel? Don’t worry, I’ll treat your pussy the way she needs, yeah? Daddy’s gotcha.”

Solid and rough hands reached to hold the underside of your thighs, picking you up with a grunt and walking you back to your shared bedroom. You laughed sweetly as he carried you to the room and dropped you on the bed, noticing how you stared at him in a daze, watching him tear off his shoes and slacks. Your pupils dilated at the sight of him in his briefs and white tank, wanting to trace the multitude of scars that covered his body.

“Staring much?”

“I like looking at you,” Logan buzzed as he hovered over you, kissing your lips and yanking the waistband of your panties down your legs, removing the offending article and tossing them behind him.

“Hm, and I wanna take a look at somethin’ else. Open up for me baby, gotta take a look at her, make sure she’s healthy.” He jutted his chin towards your center, big hands skimming over your knee to your thighs, parting you for his view.

You opened your legs slowly, unveiling your pussy to Logan just the way he wanted. His eyes went from your chest to between your thighs, admiring the sight of your cunt drenched for him, glistening with arousal.

“Fuckin’ prettiest pussy on the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” you said with a nod, making sure to use your manners. He bent down on his knees, holding your hips stable and placing one of your legs over his shoulder, actively pinning you in place. 

You could feel his breath on your sensitive skin, your folds shining with your slick. The deviant in Logan emerged when he reached where you yearned for him, curious fingers peeling your folds apart and holding you open. You gasped out a breath as he stroked your body, his fingertips teasingly massaging along your opening, not yet inserting them inside.

“She’s cryin’ for me. Practically soakin’ my hand,” his voice stunned you, clenching at the sound of his lustful words. You jerked your hips towards his face, growing impatient as the feeling of emptiness threatened to consume you.

“Daddy…”

“I know, I know. Hurts right here, right?” He angled a finger deeper into your hole, not sinking it in all the way but enough for you to feel it.

“Please. I need you to touch me, need you inside,” you clutched the material of your pillow under your head, widening your thighs to make room for Logan.

“Easy. I know what you need. Daddy’s gotcha, he always does.”

He tipped forward to press a delicate kiss on your exposed clit, the act causing your hips to jolt upwards, seeking his mouth. Logan chuckled as he inhaled the natural scent of you, layering additional kisses on your vulva and mound, the coarse hair of his beard scuffing your inner thighs.

He spent the next few minutes just kissing your pussy, poking and toying with you as he went. The taste of you gathered on his lips the more he stayed between your legs, cheeks heated from his prolonged edging.

The tip of his tongue brushed your clit, curling around the engorged bundle of nerves with intention and sucking it gently between his lips. Your hands flew to his hair, running through the gray strands to keep him in place, grinding up into him as vivacious thirst flowed through you. His ample teasing compelled your body to tense, wanting nothing more than to have his permission to cum from everything he gave you.

“So good, so good. Fuck…” Your eyes were hazy from the pleasure, heat building in your lower back and curling up your spine. The thick hair that covered his chin added extra friction against your cunt, needy walls flexing around nothing, coveting his fingers or something thicker that you know you won’t get until he says otherwise.

“Taste so sweet. Ripe as a fuckin’ peach,” the words were muffled against you, mind blanking from the immense euphoria that surged through you. 

He loved it when you were like this, desperate and pathetic, crying out for more whenever you had the chance. You could feel the tips of his fingers coming back to your opening, taunting your cunt before plunging two of his thick digits inside, curling them into the spot tucked neatly at the roof of your canal. He parted his mouth away from you for a moment, taking in the look on your face as he started giving you what you needed.

“That’s your spot, hun? Just needed Daddy to touch your pussy and help you feel better.” He continued to pump his fingers into you, pressing them into the textured bump he found with ease before pulling them out and repeating the action. Your nails dug into his biceps, tearing at the flesh and leaving faint indents.

You could barely shake your head in confirmation, much less give him a verbal response. With every dip of his fingers, you tightened around him, holding his thick wrist with one hand. He interlocked his mouth with yours, letting you taste yourself on his lips as he increased the pace of his fingers. Whimpers poured out of you, holding on to Logan as he brought you closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Daddy. I’m gonna cum,” your eyes were clouded as you glanced at him, his free hand pressing down on your abdomen, a textured thumb circling your clit.

“C’mon, give it to me, baby. Be a good girl and come for Daddy.”

The way he coaxed you through it with his gentle cooing and the rhythmic rubbing of his thumb sent you whirling into your climax. You wailed as your walls convulsed around his digits, never stopping their pace. Your thighs shook as Logan continued to please you through your orgasm, keeping your legs open with his hips until the wave was done crashing over you. His fingers didn’t stop moving, your clit almost hurt from the touch, and the tension you felt inside was amplified tenfold when he slipped in a third finger, stretching you out once more.

“Daddy, I can’t…” you lamented, hiding your face in his arm as your toes curled from the nonstop touching. Your insides were boiling—overstimulated and overwhelmed at the feel of it, with another surge of elation threatening to strike you all at once.

“You can darlin’, you can for me. Gimme another, need to make sure my girl is all fucked out.”

He shifted lower again, pressing the bridge of his nose into your clit and collecting the honey that spilled from you, curling his digits back into your g-spot. You pulled at his hair, unsure if you wanted him to get off of you or give you more. Cries turned into whimpers, hitting your limit again in rapid succession, mouth opening in a silent scream. Your legs trembled beside his ears, squeezing his head as you came for a second time, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes as you gushed into his waiting mouth.

The ringing in your ears persisted until you could catch your breath, mind stuck in the muddy headspace Logan enjoyed guiding you into. Raising from between your legs, he dropped both of your thighs on the bed, kissing each knee and holding your body close as you swam in the sea of ecstasy.

“You did so good for me. Always so good for me.” His voice sounded distant when he spoke to you, kissing you softly as you held on to him, short pants falling over his lips. “Are you slippin’, princess?”

You nodded weakly, staring at your older lover with glazed eyes. Despite feeling like you’re floating away, you were present enough to ask for more, even if it wasn’t directly. Discreetly, one of your hands went to touch his cock through his briefs, hardened again after feasting on you. Your palm rubbed up his length, fondling him through the fabric as he twitched in your hand.

“Need Daddy inside? To take care of ya?” He was already taking off the last bits of clothing as he spoke out loud, using his remaining strength to position you how he wanted, your head comfortably on the pillows and your legs bracketing either side of him.

“Please, I need you.” You think you’d start crying if you didn’t get Logan to fuck you in the next minute, a primal urge to fill that emptiness you felt in your core.

“I’m right here hun, I ain’t leaving. Go ahead and put Daddy inside, wanna feel you.”

Wrapping your hand around his cock, you drew him towards your entrance, rubbing the tip up and down your wet center before angling him so he’d slip inside. He shifted his hips and swiftly pushed into you with one singular thrust, his hips flushed against yours down to the hilt. You purred at the feel of him being so deep, a dazed smile adorning your features as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

Logan allowed you to adjust as much as he knew you needed, though with how wet you were, you didn’t need to wait any longer. He stayed still inside you, grunting lowly under his breath as your warm walls pulsed around him. Once you were relaxed enough, he drew his hips back, leaving only the tip of him and pistoning forward with power. The movement jostled your body up on the bed, hands embracing his bicep, seeking purchase as he fucked you into the mattress.

“That’s where you need me, honey? Deep inside, ya? Making you mine?” Logan snarled at you, his teeth digging into his bottom lip, huffing through his nose. His nostrils flared at the scent of you spiking, your slick coating his length and trickling down his balls.

“Yes, yes, Daddy,” the honorific tumbled effortlessly from your lips. He turned into your God, the only thing you knew when nothing else made sense, when you lost track of reality. “Yours, only yours.”

He watched your face closely as he continued to fuck into you, holding your legs open by the thighs and keeping them towards your chest, effectively pinning you to the mattress. Leaning down to make sure you were held in place, he caught your eyes rolling to the back of your head, tongue lolling as you huffed under your breath, drool spilling out of your mouth. 

He held your jaw between his fingers and grinned when you instinctively stuck your tongue out, waiting for your gift. He spat shamelessly, the blob landing on your tongue before colliding his mouth with yours. Despite the onslaught of bliss, you reciprocated the kiss that carried you to the highest cloud only he could bring you down from.

He could see when the switch happens, and you begin to slip into subspace, your mind drifting off to that safe space you’ve curated when you turned your brain off. You were stuck in limbo, somewhere between here and nowhere. Your eyes couldn’t stay focused on him, half-lidded and glassy, tears running down your face and wetting the pillow below you.

Underneath him like this, you were everything and nothing all at once, astral projecting out of your body and feeling only him as a perpetual numbness possessed you. You were melting, nerves firing up with every harsh jab Logan gave you, your head devoid of thought, the connection between your brain and the rest of your body evaporated into thin air. Like this, he could have you at your best, fully trusting him with your life. A man like him, turned into a monster and spat out by the world’s cruelty, can now fulfill his purpose in tending to a lost lamb like you who had become ensnared in the predator’s web.

To the world, he was a broken fragment of the X-Men, a forgotten memory lost to the suffering of his kind. He frequently wondered when he would meet his maker if such a thing existed or if he’d be met with eternal damnation when he crossed that bridge. Now that you were in his life, he could wait a bit longer for his fate if it meant he’d spend the rest of his days with you, having you like this.

“That’s it baby, that’s it. Just let Daddy have ya. Let him take care of you.”

That was all you needed to hear, sobbing into the side of his neck and submitting fully to Logan. You wheezed every time his cock bumped into your g-spot with fierce precision, incising his scarred chest and leaving new marks in your path. Unlike the rest of the flaws that encircled his body, he’ll carry these with pride, showing the world the impact and effect you had on him.

Your thighs started to quiver beneath him, the telltale signs of your impending release creeping up on you at rapid speed. Logan noticed it as usual: your heart was pounding faster, blood streaming to pump through you, and your pulse was beating louder by the second. He could sense every gulp of air you took, your lungs expanding in your ribs, choking as you cried for him.

You could happily die here, even if Logan couldn’t live with himself if that happened. If you did leave him behind, he’ll just find a way to join you.

“Know you're close bunny, just need a little push.” One of his hands went between your legs, aiming for your oversensitive nub and rubbing tight circles over the bud. Your voice pitched up in a loud mewl, nails raking through his scalp and digging into the back of his head.

“One more. Give me one more, and I’ll fill you up, angel. Be a good girl and listen to me, make Daddy happy.”

One last combination of his rough advances and circling your clit brought you to a devastating climax, convulsing violently around him and yelling his name loud enough for the next-door neighbors to hear. Your blood vessels burst at the seams into a million pieces, leaving nothing behind to mend or remember. Your very being crumbled to dust, buried under the sand and washing away into the vast ocean, transforming into the next tidal wave crashing along the shore.

You couldn’t hear Logan as he rasped praises next to your ear, drilling into you with such force that the headboard slammed into the wall as he chased his release. The metal of his dog tags tickled your sternum and did nothing to rouse you from the intensity of your high. Arranging his fists towards the bed, he ignored the pain of his knuckles splitting to make room for his claws to poke out, ensuring he wouldn’t accidentally nick you once they did.

You missed the declaration of Logan’s love as he reached a high so extreme black spots filled his vision. His sharp canines bit into the crease where your neck and shoulder met, imprinting you with his mark like he’d done so many times before—the faded indents of his teeth over other areas of your body made that fairly obvious. You could only weep as he pressed his hips flush with yours, rutting into you until there was nothing left to give.

You couldn’t breathe, your figure quavering underneath Logan as he strained to keep himself upright, careful not to smother you with his weight. The metal claws that protected you slipped back into his body, leaving holes in the mattress from where they punctured through it.

As carefully as he could, Logan turned to his side, bringing you into his chest as you cried into his skin. His seed dripped out of you and stained the bed sheets—a problem for tomorrow that you’ll surely handle. 

He ran soothing lines over your hips and back, leaving a trail of kisses over your sweaty hairline and heated cheeks. Ideally, he’d want to clean you up and probably shower before going to bed, but the exertion you felt was palpable. He tried to pull out of you and let your body relax, but your soft voice wept in protest at the action.

“Stay.” One word from you kept him in place, holding you against his chest. Your eyes fluttered closed, struggling to stay awake at the affection this man had offered you with open arms time and time again.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere. Sleep, sweetheart, I’ll be here.”

You snuggled into his side soon after, the pacifying warmth of his body easing you into a deep slumber. He loved having you beside him, safe and content. He could spend all night just watching you doze off in his arms.

Bestowing a final kiss to your forehead, he whispered those three words over the shell of your ear, closing his eyes as exhaustion lured him to join you. He hoped you could hear his confession in your dreams, and of course, if you didn’t, he’ll just have to remind you again when dawn breaks.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

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[tonycries]

Madam Gojo - G.S.

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

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

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

Word count. 4.9k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ah, right. How could you forget?

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

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

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

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

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

Muttering an icy, “Something funny, dear?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right, because this clan is that great.”

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

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

And oh it was like a dam burst open.

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

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

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

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

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

Oh. You’ve done it now.

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

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

“Sit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

. 

A weighty beat passes. One. Two. 

He wins.

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

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

What? 

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

“Wan’ me to kill them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thud!

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

“Out.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hngh- yes yes yes, too good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“P-please ah- oh-” you squirm.

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

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

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

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

“Fuck fuck fuck- Toru m’so…”

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

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

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

And Gojo keeps going. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit. 

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

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

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

Something that Gojo obviously didn’t appreciate.

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

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

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

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

Except maybe his cute lil’ wife. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Louder.”

“Like I’m your wife.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hngh- f-fuck, Toru- there-”

That.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Clean that room up.” 

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

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

A/N. On my period I’m gonna cry. 

Plagiarism not authorized.