#like I think I'm going to hit a hard boss and be fucked because I forgot how to like. Play against hard bosses

[iiiiiiis-things]

idk just thinking about how you burst into your home damn near slamming the door shut, only for toji to stop it with the large palm of his hand before he smoothly walks in behind you. you're on 10 right now, stomping and shouting around the house (while your husband follows like a lost puppy) until you make your way to the kitchen yelling something about how it was "totally unnecessary to punch him" honestly toji didn't even know what the hell you were going on about, i mean he wasn't even listening. he silently convinced himself that it wasn't his fault- no it was definitely yours that he couldn't focus on the sweetness of your voice. i mean he just couldn't stop himself from trailing his eyes down to your ass, sinfully watching from his stance at the doorway as it jiggled with each hard step you took. "you can't keep doing this shit man-" your words go in one ear and out the other, again wasn't his fault, he can't help but think about is how fucking sexy you look right now. lace tussled into a slight mess, lip gloss smeared across your puffy lips because of how much you opened your fat ass mouth out of anger, and that dress ? oh that dress is what gotten you in the situation in the first place, the way it hugged your frame perfectly, mapping out each of your curves in all the right ways. had you not wore it like he told you to he wouldn't have had to beat his boss ass for staring at you a little to long. lashes that had been ripped off are still in his car, sitting prettily right on his dashboard, he couldn't care less in fact he was glad you took em off ecstatic even, toji loved to see you natural, toji thought you were so god damn fine

"what ?"

...did he say that out loud ?

"nothin'" he muffled out "are you even listening? see this the shit i'm talking about-"

toji wanted nothing more than to bend you over the kitchen island and shut your big ass mouth with each deep stroke he gave you, dick hitting deep in that gummy area that always turned you into mush whenever he found it, but alas he didn't, he knew you were angry, just didn't know why. aren't you glad he protected you from the preying eyes of his boss ? did it cost him his job ? maybe.. but it doesn't matter because it was all for you, his lovely wife. "here asshole" toji finally snapped out of his head when he felt you shove something against his chest before walking off. noodles ... you made him-

"a cup of noodles ?" he questioned following you out the kitchen "you didn't eat at the party." the scar on his pretty lips decided to rise. oh how sweet you were, even after being so pissed at his possessiveness you still cared enough to make sure he ate before the night was over but there was still one problem.. "you didn't either" "i'm not hungry." once you reach the bottom of the stairs he stops dead in his tracks "baby- where you going ?" "to bed." no hug ? no kiss goodnight ? no invite ? oh he fucked up.

smut! under the cut (18+)

"now do you forgive me?" voice comes muffled from beneath you as you ride out your nth climax of the night your husband had been sucking and licking into you for hours drawing out orgasm after orgasm. and shit were you ovulating? because you just can't get enough. "fuck" you roll you head back in pleasure riding the sweet sensation of his nose repeatedly brushing against your clit

*smack!*

"i asked you a question mama" you moan loudly at the combination of the nickname and his tongue thrusting in and out of you hitting that special spot each time. "y-yes baby" you grind down to match the rhythm of his tongue as he begins to play with the fat of your ass tugging and gripping tightly, encouraging you to move your hips faster "'m sorry baby, so so sorry" his lips wrap around your rednend clit while he stuffs two fingers into you. at this point you were so overstimulated but you just couldn't stop riding his face even if the world was ending. bringing a hand to his hair you push it back unveiling those gorgeous green eyes. toji looks up making eye contact with you, you begin feeling the tension that was building up about to finally burst (again) "i didn't mean to upset you" he wraps his fore arms around your things getting you to grind down even harder against his perfectly fat nose "i-it's okay toj- fuck you're so deep" "i just don't like when other boys stare at you" he couldn't even bring himself to call his boss a man. a man would never violate a women's privacy like that, basically eye fucking her while she's out with her man. you felt everything, every touch, and god you were so hot, moans were leaving your mouth left and right as you felt him continue sucking, his fingers thrusting into you so desperately as if they were asking for forgiveness too.

this was gonna be a longggg night .

[death-rebirth-senshi]

Might fuck around and actually fight Malenia this time lol

[gojorgeous]

"sure thing"

pairing: target!gojo x assassin!fem!reader summary: you've been hired to kill the satoru gojo. how will you pull it off... and what will you do when he figures it out? content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, darkish content (all is well in the end), no established relationship, assassins/organized crime, blackmail, mention of a “suicide mission”, attempted murder (uhhhh), hidden identity, intended use of sex as a means to an end, mating press, unprotected sex, p->v, creampie, oral (fem!receiving), praise, pet names (gorgeous/sweetheart/baby), slight aftercare. a/n: me 🤝 describing gojo as having dimples welcome to my second 1k followers event fic! At this rate tho i’m going to hit 2k before i finish the 1k event LMAO. not that i'm complaining hehe. thank you for being patient and for all the support on my recent works! i really appreciate every ask, comment, follow, reblog, everything. they mean the world to me. check out the rest of my 1k event here. enjoy and remember that ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! creds: twitter template by @cafekitsune wc: 7.8k

“Who?!” 

No fucking way. There’s no way he just said what you think he said. 

“You heard me,��� he scowls. He glares at you from across the desk. His seat is one of those cushy little office chairs, of course. Yours is plastic– cold and hard.

“Are you fucking insane?” you hiss. There’s no other explanation for what he’s asking you to do. He’s lost his fucking mind. 

“We have a client willing to pay big money for this. Big money for just an attempt,” he answers. 

You laugh, but there’s absolutely nothing funny about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do. Probably because he’s practically invincible. I’ll never even lay a hand on him.” 

Your “boss”, for lack of a better term, only scowls harder, the wrinkles forming near his eyes etching deeper in his skin. “Well, you’d best find a way to make it work. You’re taking this job. That’s final.” You scoff. Maybe you should recommend he see someone… “No. There’s no way. I’m not doing this.” You stand, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Get someone else to go on your suicide mission.” You take a couple strides toward the door before two very large men move to block your path. 

“Not so fast,” your boss calls. You pause, eyeing up your competition. You could definitely take them if you needed to. You sense only a very faint amount of cursed energy coming from each of them– not even enough to make you blink– but something in your boss’s tone makes you turn back. 

“Yes?” You cross your arms over your chest, fingering a blade hidden in your breast pocket. 

He fiddles around in his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting up right there in his office. You don’t try to hide the way your nose scrunches up. “You want to do this job.” 

Your eyes narrow. Something tells you you’re not going to like what comes next. “And why’s that?” 

He takes a long puff, letting the smoke flowing out of his lungs with a slow exhale. “Because otherwise that little brother of yours is gonna be…” he pauses to give you a smile that makes your stomach churn. “Hmm… a lot smaller, shall we say? Maybe in several limb sized pieces?”

You think your heart stops. Time halts as ice runs through your veins. Nobody knows about your brother. At least, they didn’t. 

Your boss’s smile grows even wider. In all your time as an assassin, you’ve never wanted to kill someone more. But you know you can’t. Just an attempt on his life will end your brother’s. 

“Don’t worry. He’s all tucked away and safe at home where you left him.” Just a tiny piece of your heart thaws with relief. “But try to run with him, or run yourself, and he won’t be safe much longer.” Your pulse pounds so viciously you’re sure everyone can hear. A bead of sweat rolls down your neck. “Now, will you accept the assignment?” 

Your jaw clenches. He got you. In all these years of working for him you’ve been careful, meticulous about hiding every piece of your personal life to avoid situations just like this. But he still got you. He got you. 

“Yes,” you breathe. You have no choice. You will either kill Satoru Gojo or you will die trying. 

“Good,” is all he says, and then you’re being escorted out of the office wondering where the hell you went wrong. 

~

It’s been three weeks since that fateful meeting with your boss. True to his word, your brother has remained unharmed, but you see his lackeys lurking around every corner. Neither you nor your brother are truly safe and you never will be again unless you can pull this off and then put together some plan to escape your boss’s clutches. 

You’ll fail. You know you will. The thought eats you up inside with every waking moment. 

You’ve done your best to learn every possible piece of information about Satoru Gojo in the past two weeks. You know you can’t tail him closely– he’d pick up on your cursed energy and notice your incessant presence, so you’ve had to study from a distance with only minimal moments of proximity. You know where he works, who he works with, what restaurants, bars, and clubs he frequents and what days of the week he tends to visit. You know what his order is at his favorite ramen restaurant, where he lives, what time he wakes up. Hell, you know what fucking brand of dish soap he uses. He lives a surprisingly… predictable lifestyle. He makes no attempt to switch up his schedule or cover his tracks. In any other situation he’d be every assassin’s dream, but this is Satoru Gojo and Satoru Gojo doesn’t need to worry about assassins– assassins need to worry about him.

It took you the first week to come up with a plan. You had no clue how you were going to get close to him, much less kill him, and his infinity technique was going to prove particularly problematic. How were you supposed to kill him when you couldn’t even touch him? You had to get him in a situation in which he would willingly let his guard down for you. 

You’d been on the subway when it hit you. Sex. You’d get him to have sex with you. If you could get him to take you home, he’d have to turn infinity off for at least a short time. That would be your time to strike. 

You’d spent the next two weeks primping yourself. You’d bought the most expensive dress you’d ever owned, got a mani-pedi, whitened your teeth, and spent a small fortune on makeup. Considering your circumstances, you thought your plan was quite a good one. You knew when he’d go out to the bar with his friends, which bar he’d go to, how long he’d stay, how he’d get a taxi home. You also knew when you’d arrive, how long you’d stay, and how you’d get a taxi with him– everything planned perfectly to best catch his attention. But for all your planning, there was still one thing you didn’t know. What kind of woman did Satoru Gojo go for? Someone submissive? Teasing? Aggressive? Playful? In all your time tracking him you’d never seen him take somebody home. It struck you as… odd. He was Satoru Gojo, renowned for his power, wealth, and good looks– surely he had women falling at his feet. Maybe he was just a little more… selective. If that was the case you’d have to be even quicker on your feet when you finally met him. And that time is now. 

You’re in your bathroom, checking your makeup one last time before heading out the door. Your brother sleeps soundly in the room down the hall, safe for the time being. You’ve contacted a friend, one who is at least willing to try to get him out if– when– you fail. You doubt it will be enough.

You make your way to his room. A quick peek inside reveals he’s snuggled up with a plushie elephant that he carries around like they’re attached at the hip. You creep inside, a sad smile on your lips. This may very well be the last time you see him. You brush a stray lock of hair from his eyes and press a kiss to the crown of his head. With one last whispered ‘I love you’, you’re out the door. If you linger, you won’t be able to go– and you have to. For him. 

The streets of Tokyo are cold tonight, like the weather knows what you’re about to attempt, like it’s preparing for death, for failure. For your failure.

The club you arrive at is upscale, and one where you’ve already tipped off the bouncer to let you bypass the line. You hear a few groans from the people behind you as you saunter straight inside. 

You’re conscious of every little move from the second you step inside. At any moment, he could see you and it could make or break your entire plan.

You press your shoulders back. You have a plan– stick to it. 

You make your way over to the bar, weaving your way between groups of people who are somewhere between giggling a little too loudly and tripping over their own feet. 

You find a free space at the bar and lean up onto your elbows, your eyes screening the bartenders. You smile when you see a familiar face. 

“Hey, Dean,” you call.

He turns and the sight of his friendly green eyes sets you a little more at ease. 

“Oh, shit. Hey!” He slings a towel over his shoulder and comes to stand across from you. “You’re back,” he says. You nod and smile softly. Ever since you’d determined this would be the place you’d been coming periodically, chatting up the bartenders. The last thing you needed was to stand around in a corner alone with seemingly no friends. That wouldn’t attract anyone, much less Satoru Gojo. 

Out of all the bartenders, Dean was your favorite– and you’d been oh so happy to learn that his schedule put him on every Friday night. 

“Yeah. Long day at work.” 

A smile pulls at his lips, but there’s a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “The usual, then?” 

You nod solemnly. “That’d be great. Thanks.” 

You watch him prepare the drink for you, feeling a little bad that it’s all a lie. There’s no bad day at work, you didn’t just happen to come in here one day and strike up a conversation with him. All of this is premeditated, planned, and it feels… lonely. It feels lonely to know that on what is probably your last night on earth you are surrounded by people who only think they know you. 

“So, anything new happening?” Dean drops your drink in front of you and you have a feeling it’s filled with a little more vodka than he’s supposed to put in there. 

Your eyes shift around the bar as subtly as you can manage. As much as you want to seem like you fit in, you also need to find Gojo. It’s a fine balance. 

You shrug. “Yeah, I guess I just feel like a lot of things are going to be changing for me pretty soon.” 

His brows pull together and the look he gives you is one of genuine interest and concern. It makes your heart wrench. “How so?” 

You swallow. “Dunno. Just… everything.”

There’s a moment of silence and then the tapping of a finger on your glass. “Damn, girl. Drink up. You need it.” 

You can’t help but smile. You have a feeling that Dean would have been a good friend of yours in another life. 

You take his advice, though, and bring your drink to your lips and force a smile. You can’t be moping– not tonight. 

The next twenty minutes are spent with Dean. Even when he’s making other drinks he’s still chatting with you, still being a good… friend. You dread leaving your little haven at the bar. The time is coming when you’ll have to seek out your target.

You’re shocked when it’s the other way around. 

“Hey, gorgeous.” There’s a light brush on your shoulder and you turn. It takes all you have to keep your features schooled and calm. Satoru fucking Gojo just tapped your shoulder. 

Nothing prepared you for how handsome he is up close. All those days of research, of tracking and tailing– none of it does the real thing justice. Even with those stupid sunglasses inside… he’s fucking beautiful. “I’ll pay for all of your drinks tonight if you let me skip this hideous line,” he whines. 

You give yourself no more than a second to recover. You school your features into a smirk. You glance at Dean with an ‘is this okay?’ look. He just smiles and shrugs. 

You turn back to Gojo, bracing yourself this time for the beauty you’re about to face. You meet his gaze and know you could get lost in it. “Be my guest.” 

His smile nearly blinds you and his dimples nearly make you pass out. Still, you keep your cool. 

“Yesssss!” He looks like a puppy just offered a bone. 

He spills his drink order to Dean and it’s far more than could possibly be just for him. He’s here with his friends, then. Probably the blonde man who always looks too tired to be here and the girl with the brown hair who always seems like she’s just along for the ride. 

You bite your lip to hide a laugh when he orders himself two strawberry daiquiris. Somehow you still catch his attention. 

“What?” he pouts. You can’t help but feel a small stirring of surprise in your gut. He’s far more… relaxed than you’d expected him to be. He’s almost… childish? 

You press your lips together and shake your head. You’ve reached the point where your research can’t take you any further. From this point on, it’s up to you to discover what Satoru Gojo likes in a woman. 

You debate how to answer. Play coy? Tease him? Stay silent? Any option could be as correct as the next. You didn’t know where to start… so maybe you’d just start by being yourself. 

“Just, um… not the order I was expecting,” you laugh. It’s halfway genuine. With the way he’s acting, it’s hard to remember that he’s the most powerful man alive. 

His pout only intensifies. “Well, what’s your order?” 

His question is answered when Dean sets another cosmopolitan in front of you. You laugh. “Never said I was judging, just that it wasn’t what I expected.” 

Another smile tugs at his lips and something stirs in your gut that you try your very hardest to ignore. This was a job. There was no room for actually enjoying it. This man was probably going to kill you later, in a matter of hours. 

There’s a beat of silence, and then a slight shift in his demeanor. He leans closer and you see a twitch of his lips. Your heart jumps. 

“You’re a sorcerer,” he says. 

You hold back an exhale of relief. You thought he might be onto you. If he is, he’s choosing not to reveal it yet. 

You nod and take what you hope is a casual sip of your drink. “And you’re Satoru Gojo.�� 

A brow arches high enough for you to see it over his sunglasses. “You know who I am?” 

You force a chuckle, smirking despite the pounding of your heart. “Who doesn’t?” 

You’d decided long ago to tell him that you knew exactly who he was. It would seem more suspicious for a fellow sorcerer to have no idea what the Satoru Gojo looked like. 

He flashes you a smile full of white and stupidly fucking perfect teeth. “That’s true, heh.” You press your lips together to avoid a smile. Not too humble, then… 

“So, what’s your technique” 

You shoot him a glance that questions his sanity. Asking a sorcerer what their technique is… is personal. It’s not information you give out to a rando at the bar– even if it is Satoru Gojo.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” You take another sip of your drink, trying your hardest to remain somewhere on the border or interested and casual. 

“Bet I could find out.” 

That makes you turn fully, angling your body toward his. “Oh yeah? You challenging me to a fight?” You smirk and shake your head. “I’ll pass.” 

He pouts again, but you see a hint of a smile peeking through. “Aw, come on. That’s no fun…” 

You chuckle and take another sip of your drink. You’re not sure you’re sipping just for appearances anymore. You think you probably just need a little liquid courage to see this thing through. “Sorry. I value my life.” 

You watch as he slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, just enough for you to get a glimpse of what’s behind. You nearly choke again and this time you don’t manage to hide your nervous swallow when he smirks. 

“You’re so sure you’d lose?” His voice is teasing now and you hate that it’s actually having an effect on you. Job, job, job, just a job… 

You clear your throat. “I like to think I’m not stupid enough to think that I could win.” 

His eyes are blue– so fucking blue– and you feel like he’s seeing straight into your soul. Can he see? Can he see your filthy intentions? Your plotting? The rottenness of what you’re going to do? “What if I promise to take it real easy on you?” 

Your drink is forgotten now. You’re lost in what he’s saying– in him. “No thanks.” Your voice is growing lower and you feel like there’s some magnet forcing you to lean into him, to seek his warmth. 

“So you like it rough, then.” The trance is broken and your blood runs hot. Holy shit. This man is flirting with you and you hardly even had to try. He's trying to take you home. Little does he know, you’re a sure thing. 

You watch as he throws back the rest of his strawberry daiquiri with a pleased “ahhh” at the end. When he turns back to you his eyes have a certain spark in them that makes your thighs press together. “You wanna dance with me?” 

Fuck. This is going too well to be real. But you’re not about to pass up a good deal. 

“What about your friends?” you ask and eye the several untouched drinks still left on the bar. It’s risky– giving him an out, but you can’t seem too eager.

He follows your gaze only to bounce his eyes straight back to you. “I’m sure they’ll get a look at ya and understand.” 

The smirk he’s giving you is making electricity shoot straight between your legs. Damn. You really wish you didn’t have to kill him– or at least try to. 

When he extends his hand you only hesitate for a second. Your heart leaps when you feel his skin on yours, knowing he’s let infinity down. He pulls you onto the dancefloor and it’s not long before he’s running his hands all over you– groping your ass, pinching your thighs, nipping at your neck. Pretty soon the dancefloor evolves to a dark corner of the club with his lips on yours and goddamn he’s a good kisser. You’ve got your fingers in his hair and his hand way too close to your boobs when he whispers those fateful words– “let’s get out of here.”

You can only hide your swallow and nod before he’s pulling you through the crowd, leaving the club behind. He hauls you both into the backseat of a taxi and the door’s barely closed before he’s all over you again. You think you hear the taxi driver mutter something about ‘staining the seats’ but you’re too far gone to give a shit. 

Fuck, he feels good. He’s kisses you like he’s starved and your lips are the fountain of fucking life, like he’s never felt something so good and now he can’t get enough. And, god, he’s handsy. You’re forever grateful to your past self for discreetly hiding your blade in your bra– he would have felt a holster on your thigh at least ten times over by now. 

He groans when you arrive at what you know is his apartment building, though you don’t let on that you recognize the place in the slightest. The look on his face makes you think he’s feeling actual physical pain at the prospect of having to peel away from you for even a second. Nonetheless, he tosses a wad of cash at the taxi driver and pulls you straight inside.

He can’t even wait for the elevator to come, groping your waist right there in the lobby and then when the elevator finally does come, shoving you up against the metal wall a licking stripe across your collarbone. 

You can’t deny how nice it feels to be so desperately… wanted. Never once has a man made you feel this way– so consumed by him, him, him. Once again you curse the universe that you’re here with a mission other than getting laid. 

You find yourself giggling when he pulls you out of the elevator and presses his palm to a fucking scanner to get into his apartment. You try to pull yourself together, but when he laughs with you, you can’t help but melt into him a little more.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he’s got you up against another wall with your legs wrapped around his waist and his face buried in your neck. His sunglasses are long gone and you pull at his shirt, popping the buttons straight off the fabric until you slide the shirt down his shoulders and onto the floor.

“That was Versace,” he whines. 

You plaster your lips to his. “I don’t care.” All he does is chuckle. 

“So gorgeous…” he breathes and your head slumps back against the wall, giving him better access to the soft skin of your neck. Any minute now. Any minute he’s going to start stripping your clothes off and you’re going to have to let this charade crumble. You don’t want to. He’s practically worshiping you. It’s perfect, it’s amazing, and you don’t want it to end. 

His fingers dig into the flesh of your ass and suddenly you’re moving again– moving, moving, moving until your back is bouncing against the softness of a mattress and you’re fucking giggling again like a lovesick idiot. Maybe you’d had a few too many sips of those cosmopolitans. 

He’s smiling as he crawls over you and the sight makes your heart flutter with both lust and terror. Lust because he’s so fucking beautiful and terror because you know that any moment now you’re going to attempt to end that beauty forever. 

A lump forms in your throat and you try unsuccessfully to swallow it. You have to do this, have to try. There’s no other way, no other option. Not for you.

Your thoughts must not have been as perfectly concealed as you’d thought because he quirks a brow. “Something goin’ on up here?” His lips slide across your temple in a touch that feels far too tender for a hookup. “Don’t worry, baby. It’ll fit.” He snickers at his own joke before burying himself in your neck. His hand slides down your side, pressing you up into him until you can feel every curve and cut of his muscles. 

You bite your lip. You’ve already slipped enough for him to notice your nerves– you can’t let it happen again. You have to do it soon. Now. As soon as you see an opportunity you have to strike. You have to. 

You arch up into him, scratching your fingers down his back, trying to seem as invested in the moment as you can. He gets greedier, leaving open-mouthed kiss down your neck, across your collarbone. You nearly freeze up when he kisses low into the valley of your breasts– as low as your dress allows. Then he moves over your clothes, kissing down your stomach as his hands rub your thighs. 

Now. Now, while he’s not looking.

You slide a hand into his hair and another up to your chest, trying to play it off like you’re touching yourself. You sneak your fingers into your bra, feeling the cool metal of your blade glide across your thumb. Now. 

You fist your fingers in his hair, holding his head down as best you can while you arc the blade toward his neck. Just one good hit, please… 

You think you’re going to strike true– you’re so close– and then a firm hand wraps around your wrist, stalling your attack just as it was about to land. 

Fuck. 

He doesn’t look up right away, but you hear him sigh, feel his hot breath fanning over your thighs and stomach. When he finally does look up it’s with the eyes of a teacher who’s disappointed his student didn’t do their homework. 

“Come on now, baby. I was really hoping you’d forget about all this and we could just have a good night together…” He’s pouting, whining, like a child who’s been told he can’t have dessert before dinner. Your shock stills you long enough that he easily maneuvers the blade from your hand, throwing it with a thwack into the wall to his right. It lands perfectly. 

This is it. You’re going to die now. But not without a fight. 

You spring up from the bed, kicking him a couple times in the process. You’ve missed your only chance. Now, if there’s even the slightest chance of escape, you have to take it. 

You bare feet hit the carpet. No time to find your shoes. You dart for the door and hear him groan behind you. For a second you think you might actually make it, but you should know better. 

He appears in front of you, straight out of fucking thin air, and his pout has transformed into something a little more sinister. “Come on, gorgeous. Let’s talk it out, yeah?” 

You take a shaky step back, but you know it’s no use. He’s got you. It’s over. 

You swallow and lift your chin– you at least want to die with a little dignity. “Just make it quick. Please.” 

He sighs again and slides his hands in his fucking pockets, like this is just a stroll down the street. He stalks toward you, forcing you back until you’re pressed up against another wall. This motherfucker really likes walls. 

His pout shifts to a smirk that borders far too closely on a grin. “Oh, no. I’ve always had a thing for taking it slow.” 

You nearly snort. He certainly hadn’t had a thing for taking it slow just a minute ago. His arms cage you and your world grows infinitely smaller until it’s just him and those blue-ass eyes staring you down. Some distant part of you thinks you might not mind if it’s the last thing you ever see. 

“Damn, I really thought you might give it up and just let me fuck you,” his pout returns. “So disappointing…” he sighs. 

Your lips part. “You knew?” 

That lights his face up like a Christmas tree. “Sensed you tailing me these past few weeks. Started on theeeee– 21st, no?” 

Fuck. You’d been so careful. You’d only tailed him in public spaces, where your energy would be more diluted by the crowds. You’d stayed far enough away that he should only have caught mere glimpses of you, even suppressed your energy. He should not have been able to sense you. But he was Satoru Gojo– things people were not supposed to be able to do came easily to him. 

But you have one thing on him. 

“The 18th,” you whisper. “Started on the 18th.”

There’s a beat of silence and then his smile is growing wider, wider, wider, until it’s practically blinding you. “Well, shit,” he laughs. “You’re pretty good.” 

You let a tiny smile slip through your terror. “I try.” 

His eyes travel up and down your body, his pout slipping away to a frown. “What to do with you… hmm…” You lift your chin, taking shallow little breaths through your nose. You’re looking death in the face, but you’d never thought it would be so beautiful. He sighs. “I guess I could let you go.” 

You freeze. He notices. 

He quirks a brow, another smirk sliding across his lips. “What? Didn’t think that was an option?” You stay silent. No way he’ll let you go. It’s a bluff. A cruel trick. “It’s not like you could try again, gorgeous. I know your energy now and what you look like. Sorry, but your chance is gone.” That was fine by you. Your breaths come a little heavier, hope pulsing in your veins. “But–” shit. “Letting you go is so… boring. Especially after where we left off, yeah?” 

Your jaw drops. “You cannot seriously be suggesting that we–” 

He cuts you off with a kiss, one that makes your toes curl in the carpet and your stomach clench in anticipation. 

“Oh, yes I am,” he chuckles. You feel his hand sliding down your hip, cool and calculating. “I know you weren’t faking the whole thing, gorgeous. Nobody makes out like that when they’re faking it.” You feel your cheeks heat. “And nobody gets this wet-” his fingers snake beneath your skirt, pressing to the wet patch on your panties. “When they’re faking it.” You gasp and reach out, hands clasping onto his shoulders for support. He only chuckles. “No worries, gorgeous. No need for any more faking tonight. I’ll make sure it’s all real.” 

Somehow you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist again and you’re headed to the bedroom– again. It’s like a replay– a redo. 

“Let’s keep it less killy this time, yeah?” 

Your back hits the mattress, your body bouncing lightly on its softness before he’s crawling after you. It’s simultaneously the best and worst deja vu you’ve ever experienced. 

His hands slide down your body again, fingertips hooking beneath the hem of your skirt and shimmying it up your thighs until your panties are on full display. 

“Shit,” you breathe. He’s moving so fast, like he’s desperate to go further, to get his greedy hands all over your bare skin. 

You can’t say you blame him. You feel the same.

His thumbs hook under the fabric of your panties and you know it’s over for you. You can feel his warm breath skating across your thighs, feel the calluses on his hands scraping against your skin. You reach a hand down, tangling it in his hair, and you nearly faint when he smirks and looks up at you with those blue fucking eyes. 

“I think I’ve seen this film before, sweetheart.” He tilts his head, resting his cheek on the plush of your thigh. “No more knives hiding anywhere, yeah?” 

You clench your jaw, trying to control your pounding heart. You can’t believe you’re doing this. Why are you doing this? You wish you had a better answer than he’s beautiful and sexy and just a glance at him makes you want to rip his clothes off and climb him like a tree. 

“Silent, hm? Guess I’ll just have to check myself…” 

He’s pressing up the hem up your skirt, more, more, more, until he’s pulling your dress straight up over your arms and running his hands down your bare sides. 

“None there…” His fingers cup your breast and you gasp, unable to contain your shock and the jolt that just rushed through you. He traces the outline of your bra. “You had the last one in here, no?” Your chest heaves under his touch, pressing the flesh of your breast up into his fingers. He smirks. “Best check again.” You feel an arm slide beneath you back and then your bra loosens before it’s completely gone. 

There’s a beat of silence, of admiration. He gazes down on you and you see his snark falter for just a moment, replaced by a sparkle in his eyes. It makes your skin heat. His fingers brush the swell of your breasts, thumb trailing down over a nipple. You arch and gasp again. 

“Fuck. Quit teasing so much.” 

He chuckles and the sound washes over you until it settles in your bones. “Sush. I’m not done checking for weapons yet.” 

You scowl but before you can even move to open your mouth he’s sliding your panties down your legs, hooking them around your ankles and tossing them somewhere on the floor.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you watch him settle himself down between your thighs, eyes never once leaving your center. “Don’t see any knives here, either, but maybe I should double-check…” he breathes. 

He hooks your legs over his shoulders and you shudder, your breaths shaky. Fuck. You were supposed to kill him tonight but if he keeps going like this you’ll be the one deceased. 

He meets your eyes when he takes the first long lick along your folds. You swear he’s smirking.

Your head rolls back and a pathetic sounding groan slips past your lips. You hadn’t realized how much he’d worked you up. Just the slightest touch feels like heaven.

His tongue nudges at your clits and your legs clench, tightening around his head. He laughs into your cunt and his warm breath skates up and over your tummy. Your fingernails scrape his scalp.

“I think you like this, gorgeous.” 

Each word sends little puffs of air against your folds. It’s driving you crazy. You stare down at him, letting a smirk pull at your lips. Your eyes dart over his mouth, wet with your slick, and you don’t fail to notice the way he’s struggling to hold your gaze, eyes flickering back down to your cunt every second. Your smirk grows. “I think you’re liking this, too.” 

He licks another stripe, from you pulsing hole to your throbbing clit, and this time he’s the one groaning. “Damn right I am.”

He eats you out like he kisses you– like a starved man, like he’ll die if he stops for just one second, like he can’t live without your juices on his tongue. 

You whine and bury both hands in his hair, tugging desperately when his lips wrap around you clit and suck. It’s so much, too much, and yet it’s just right. 

Your hips buck and squirm, but he’s got his fingers pressed deep into your flesh, holding you down to take whatever he gives. You think you see heaven when he slides two fingers into your walls, curling them into that gummy spot that has an unbearable heat building deep inside you. 

“S-Satoru-” you stutter and you hear him moan and mutter into your cunt like he’s unwilling to leave it for even a second.

“Fuck, yes. Say my name, sweetheart.” Who are you to deny him? You whisper, whine, and whimper his name with every thrust of his fingers, every lick of his tongue. It’s delicious. Every so often he swaps his mouth and hand, thrusting his tongue as deep inside you as he can while his fingers rub dangerous little circles on your clit. Whenever things get a little too filthy he laps his tongue across your entire cunt and along your inner thighs, cleaning up every stray drop. You don’t know how much longer you can last under such a complete and total assault. 

“S-Satoru, ‘m gonna-” He licks a thick stripe through your folds that makes your sentence end in a whine, his lips settling to suckle on your clit again.

God, it’s messy. It’s fucking disgusting. His whole chin is covered in spit and slick– and you love it. “Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. 

You don’t need to hear much more. You let the heat inside you release with a whine, thighs trembling on his shoulders. Your walls pulse and throb around his fingers, sucking him in and never wanting him to leave. His tongue continues to rub lazy circles around your clit, working you through your high and making it last so long you think you might pass out.

Warmth spreads from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and your muscles tense and clench with each pulsing throb. You swear to god you see fucking stars.

It seems to go on forever, leaving you limp and shaking when the last waves finally slip away. 

He presses a final kiss to your clit, one that makes your hips jolt from the overstimulation before he’s lifting himself up. “Wow. That looked like a big one,” he chuckles. He runs a soothing hand along your thigh and you don’t even have the energy to give him some sort of snarky reply. There’s hardly even a pause before something shifts in his eyes. “Let’s see if we can get one that’s even bigger, yeah?” 

Before you can even process what he’s said you feel strong hands slide under your thighs, pressing them tightly to your chest as he settles himself close to you

You grasp at the sheets, hearing the clinking of a belt buckle and then the familiar pitch of a zipper being undone. 

“Fuck,” you mutter. He’s big. Long and pretty and with a perfectly flushed tip. Your eyes are rolling back just thinking about having him inside you.

A strong hand smooths along your thighs, folding you in a way that feels more vulnerable and exposing than anything you’ve ever done before. He pauses for a beat, just staring down at you silently.

“Gorgeous,” he finally mutters, and something in your heart squeezes. His hand grips your hip firmly, holding you in place and you gasp when you feel him prodding at your entrance. It’s pathetic. You’re pathetic. Big bad assassin turned simpering little bitch over some good Gojo dick. 

“Just relaxxxxx, baby.” His hand rubs soothing little circles into your side and it’s so divinely distracting that it catches you by surprise when he starts pushing into you. You gasp and he only chuckles. Asshole. 

He’s big– really big – and the stretch is somehow both painful and perfect. You groan into the air, struggling to take him. Every inch feels like it must be the last, but then there’s more. Your walls clench around him on instinct, trying to force him out. 

“Fuck, baby. What did I say about relaxing?” You hiss when his hand skates down your tummy to rub messy circles on your clit. The relief is instant and you moan when you feel him slide in a little further. “There we go. Good girl.” 

He continues feeding his dick into you, inch by inch, until his hips finally press to yours and you think you can feel him in your fucking throat. You hear him exhale, like it’s a relief to finally be fully inside you, like he’s been waiting for ages. 

You expect him to not hold back, to let himself go and pound into you relentlessly, but he doesn’t. He only leans down closer to you, settling in when he starts a pace of slow, sensual thrusts. His brows pinch, his eyes hardened in concentration.

“Ah, fuck. You’re so tight.” 

You want to shoot something back at him, but you’re hardly remembering to breathe with how deep he’s sliding into you. Instead, you just end up holding him tighter, your eyes fluttering shut. 

Lips dust across your cheeks, just below your lashes. “Keep your eyes open, gorgeous. Wanna see you.” 

You blink, thinking that it’s a notion that feels a little too intimate for a hookup. Regardless, you do as he wants, opening your eyes and holding his gaze.

A smile splits his lips and he presses his forehead to yours, picking up the pace of his thrusts. It’s not long before the sound of skin on skin fills the room and you’re both panting. His breath skates across your skin, hot and heavy, hitching with the groans and whines that spill from his chest. You can’t help but pull him closer, raking your nails down his back hard enough to leave marks. The action makes him emit a noise you can only describe as a desperate whimper. “Fuck, baby. Yes.” 

His lips press to yours in a kiss that’s all desperation and teeth and tongue. You kiss him back with equal intensity, your body rocking with each heavy thrust. He’s pounding into you now, frantic for more, more, more of you. You want him to take it, take all of you. 

A familiar heat pinches in your stomach and you know it won’t be long before he’s pushing you to another release. His dick drags in and out of you, prodding at the gummy spot inside you with every thrust and brushing so deliciously against your cervix that you can’t stop the moans spilling from your lips. It has you seeing stars again, has you clawing at him and panting into his mouth. 

“Satoru… harder,” you breathe. You need more– more of everything, of him. 

He groans. “You got it, gorgeous.” 

His hips slam into you and it’s so perfect that you can’t help but whimper beneath him. It only gets worse when you feel his fingers on your clit again, hand pressed between your bodies. “Cum on my dick, baby.” Your eyes roll back, that coil inside you rolling tighter. You feel his muscles tensing and shaking above you and you know he’s close, too. “Where do you want it?” he asks, and from the pinched look on his face you can tell exactly where he wants it. You know you’re an idiot for feeling the same. 

“Inside,” you breathe. He groans so loudly it rattles in your ears.

“That’s my girl,” he says, but it’s nearly a whisper with how strained it is. His hand continues at your clit, rubbing perfect little circles that make your legs tremble where they’re pressed against your chest. Your jaw hangs open, but you don’t dare close your eyes. Satoru is still holding your gaze intently, desperately, like he needs to see you. The thought throws you over the edge.

You cry his name, clawing at his shoulder and shaking like a leaf as you feel yourself gush and pulse all over his dick. For the second time that evening you feel the heat inside you swell and burst, washing through you in waves that nearly consume you whole. It’s a struggle to hold his eyes, to not let them roll back into your skull and give into the pure ecstasy of your high– especially when he’s cumming, too. You can hear him moaning in your ear, feel him twitching inside you, feel his hot cum coating your walls and there’s just so fucking much of it. You swear he cums for a minute straight before he slumps down onto you, burying his face in your neck as you pant. 

You’re shaking and so is he, breaths heaving in and out. Reality slowly starts to seep back in, even with his dick still softening inside you and his cum leaking down your thighs. 

You tried to kill him. You failed. You had sex. Now what? Would he really let you go like he’d said he would? You wanted to believe it, but life hadn’t taught you to be that trusting. You should move, untangle yourself from him and escape before he has time to change his mind. 

“You assassins are always thinking so hard,” He mumbles into the curve of your neck. “Maybe you should try to relax for once.”

You swallow when you feel him pressing his lips to your throat, trailing up to your jaw. It’s… tender, gentle, and it feels so nice. You can’t help the way you melt into the touch a bit. You feel him smile into your skin. “There we go.”

His hand settles on your waist, rubbing soothing little circles that send a jolt of urgency up your spine. No. You’re enjoying this– being close to him, laying here with him, breathing him in. That’s not what this is supposed to be. 

You tense again, shifting to get away from him, but he only sighs and presses his weight onto you. 

“Come on, gorgeous. No need to leave so soon. Just stay for a bit, yeah?” He nibbles at your jaw, but it doesn’t work this time. You have to go. You’ve failed your mission. You don’t know what that means for your brother. You’d never thought this would have an ending besides your death. 

“I have to go,” you mutter, pushing at his chest. 

He chuckles, but you don’t miss the strain and… hurt? “Got something more important than trying to kill me?” 

You clench your teeth, trying once again to shove him away. “Yes, actually.” 

He finally pulls back to meet your gaze, brows slightly pinched. “Like what?” 

You push in earnest now, anger and panic rising in your gut. You have to go, have to check on your brother, have to figure out what you’re going to do. “That’s really none of your business,” you seethe. 

You go for another shove, but strong hands clasp around your wrists, pinning them to the bed. His expression has gone flat now, serious. “Actually, I think it’s completely my business. You going to report your failure? Should I expect another assassin soon?”

You scowl, tugging at his grasp and trying to free yourself. “Yeah, probably. He’s an insufferable idiot. I told him it wouldn’t work and it didn’t, but I don’t doubt he’ll send another.” 

His face cracks, his brows pulling together again. “If you knew it wouldn’t work then why’d you take the job?” 

You struggle again, less angry and more desperate now. “Because he’s got my fucking brother at gunpoint and I’ve got to figure out how the fuck I’m going to save him!” you shout.

There’s silence for a long moment– a long, uncomfortable beat of it– and then his expression softens into something… tender. It sends a chill up your spine. Satoru Gojo was never supposed to be tender with you, and that’s all he’s been. 

“I’ll save him,” he says. Your heart jumps and his grip on your wrists loosens, allowing you to slip free. 

“What?” you breathe. He sits back, allowing you to prop yourself up into a slightly less vulnerable position. 

He exhales slowly, but you don’t miss the way his hand settles on your bare thigh, a comforting weight. “I’ll save your brother and then I’ll take care of your boss.” A smirk creeps across his lips. “What? Don’t think I can do it?”

You stare blankly, lips parted. There’s no doubt he can do it, but that’s not the question swirling in your mind. 

“Why would you help me?” You’d tried to kill the man. You couldn’t make heads or tails of a reason why he’d go out of his way to help you. 

He chuckles. “Well, in case you didn’t know, I’m a hero of sorts.” You have to fight not to roll your eyes. “And… there’s something I want from you.” 

There it is– the catch. He wants something. You have no idea what you could possibly have to give him, but you’re willing for it to be just about anything. You narrow your eyes. “What?” 

He grins, but you can see the glint of mischief in his gaze. His hand slides further up your thigh, up your side, over your shoulder, until it rests at the nape of your neck and his face is only inches from your own. “What’s your number, gorgeous?”

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[luveline]

Hi lovely!

Can you please do one where Hotch and Reader are in a fight and it gets heated and he maybe raises his hand just because he’s shouting and she flinches?

He would be prepared to FIGHT whoever made his honey feel that way 🗣️🗣️

💘

for you my sweetheart. fem, 1k

cw implied past domestic violence 

“It was right,” you're saying, on the defensive, your voice molten, “it was the thing to do!” 

“It wasn't.” Hotch closes the door. “It wasn't the right thing to do, it wasn't even close.” 

You realise, under everything, that he's right, but you couldn't help yourself, you had to try and save the day, had to swerve the SUV. Plus, he's done it himself, and you both know that. “If Monikie got out of that exit we never would've seen her again.” 

“There were roadblocks on the I–46, and I don't think I have to tell you that you could've gotten a lot of people seriously hurt–” 

“You've done worse,” you deny.

His expression, broadly furious, narrows into something sharper, “And that is my decision to make, but you report to me.” 

“You can't seriously want to act like a boss now,” you say. 

The room isn't overly large, and so you stand close to one another with no need for shouting, but your voices begin to overlap. Hotch is so angry. It isn't like him to yell at you, his voice strained. 

“You can't truly think that the decision you made today was the right one. You need to calm down, and you need to listen to me when I tell you that this was the wrong move. We'll talk about it more tomorrow.” 

“You're shrugging me off?” You could laugh. “You can't be serious. Every member of this team has done the same, or worse–” 

“But they're not you!” His voice peeks, his hand jolting out in front of his chest, flat-palmed in incredulity. 

You're really quite close to each other. 

It's not his fault. 

You step back, desperate to be away from the movement, the hand, because it doesn't register as his hand, only there's a chair behind you and a table behind that and you bump into the plastic with a creak and screech. You're righting yourself as quickly as you're tripping but Hotch is already moving away. Three steps that feel like a gorge. 

Your heartbeat soars. 

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly. 

“Of course.” You breathe out funny. It's not his fault, but there's something wired in your brain now, and it knows that the first strike isn't the last. Your hand shakes as you brush at an itch under your eyes. 

“I'm not mad,” he says. 

“You sounded pretty mad."

“I've changed my mind.” He gives you a long hard look, and then he moves to the office door to open it before returning to his initial position. He's given you an exit route. “I'm not going to hurt you,” he says. 

You put your hands on your hips and bend at the waist, breathing out hard. “Fuck, I know that."

“You thought I might.” 

“So profile me,” you say, panicking still, face hot and itchy all over. “Tell me why.” 

“Someone's hit you before. Enough to anticipate the second blow.” 

“But you knew that already, didn't you?” 

Your ears get cloudy like there's water in them and you can't stand the feeling of Hotch's gaze on the back of your head. You force yourself into a standing position and try to ignore what happened. 

“You're unfairly angry with me,” you say. 

Hotch just shakes his head at you. 

“It's… It's not a big deal,” you say, quieter. He already knew because of course he did, every member of the team gets checked. You have records, and he's in a position of power unlike most, he could've read them like the morning paper. 

“Why would you say that?” 

“I can still do my job.” 

“I wasn't going to suggest you couldn't.” 

Then why… why is he looking at you like that? You're humiliated enough, and his gaze is so… so soft. So sorry. Tears gather warm behind your eyes and your chest aches like you've been holding your breath. You frown, eyebrows lifting at the starts, not knowing if you should beg him to forget the whole thing or finally give in. 

“Come here,” he says gently. Completely optional, his fingertips twitching but stationery at his side. 

You stare resolutely at your shoes. 

“I'm sorry I scared you, it wasn't my intention. I can imagine how it feels. I'm not mad, honey,” he says. His voice drops to a murmur, “Come here,” he pleads. 

You take a clumsy handful of steps and he meets you in the middle, arms going carefully over your shoulders. You'd feel condescended by it if it weren't shockingly nice to be considered in such a way, or if the solid mass of his arms around you didn't soothe. You feel protected rather than boxed in, held, and not restrained. 

His hand slides open down the length of your back.

“I'm sorry I scared you,” he repeats, for your ears alone. 

“It's not like it was really you that scared me.” 

The memory scared you. The flinch was instinctive, less to do with Hotch and more to do with the connection between a moving hand and stinging pain. 

He hangs his head by your ear until his nose touches your shoulder, and for a few seconds, it's just you and him together, no fighting, and no fast-approaching hands. 

“You didn't scare me,” you mumble, hiding your face in his shoulder instead, forcing him to stand tall. 

Incoming footsteps cut your embrace short, but he doesn't pull away too swiftly. His hands grave the lengths of your arms, and he gives you a long, loaded look. Before you can calibrate the action to the man, he's chucking you under the chin, a stroke of his index knuckle, a promise of more to say. 

He catches Morgan before he can enter the room and directs him back out. “Take a minute,” he advises you. 

You sit in a chair and do as he's offered. Memory is a tricky thing. 

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

My thoughts about the Trump assassination attempt

After having a few hours to process this whole thing and see reactions from across the political spectrum, I'm having some thoughts and some feelings.

First off, as I said earlier, Trump is a fucking boss. Take anyone who ran for president in the last 20 years, put them in that exact situation, and I don't think a single one responds by raising his fist and snarling in defiance and righteous anger. They run. They cry. They keep their heads down and the first statement you h ear from them is hours later filtered through 20 different speech writers. Today proved to me that, whatever else he may be, Trump is a genuine bad ass. He's exactly the person I want at the end of a sword pointed the United States. Because he's going to have a sword of his own pointed right back, and he's not going to run and hide when it comes time to use it.

Second, the modern left is full of monsters. The amount of people screaming and crying because this assassination attempt failed actually sickens me. It's one thing to have fantasies about easy solutions to the things that scare you. Hell, I'm not innocent. I've thought about how much better things might be if this politician was no longer around or this activist group got axed. But one of the things I did today was think about how I would feel if the assassin succeeded. And then I thought about how I'd feel if someone took a shot at Biden and he didn't survive. Neither thought gave me any good feelings. Obviously I'd be more upset if Trump died, but today showed me that I don't want us to start down the path of shooting political leaders. But too many people on the left, people who should know better, at least enough to hide their true feelings, have no problem publicly wishing Trump was dead right now. That assassinating presidential candidates was a legitimate tactic--but only against the politicians they don't like, of course.

Fuck that.

Fuck them.

America is better than that. Americans are better than that. We're not some third world shithole like Mexico. We're the greatest country in the world. We're the last bastion of representative government. The last place in the world where freedom exists. And it's time we started acting like it.

Third, I ain't got no time for conspiracy theories. Sorry guys, but this wasn't staged and this wasn't a CIA hitman. Unless real, hard evidence comes out otherwise, you won't ever get me to believe any of the nonsense I've seen floated around. Don't be so lost in the true things the media has dismissed as "conspiracy theories" that you immediately jump to the most conspiratorial explanations first for everything that happens. It's lame and cringe and a lot of people I've seen seriously putting these theories forward should know better. I know we're in our emotions right now, but keep your heads.

Fourth, my heart breaks for the families of the people who were hit with the bullets meant for President Trump. But that's the kind of evil we're facing. Whoever did this decided that the idea of a Trump presidency was so awful that they were okay with shooting innocent people just to stop him. And this is after he was already president and none of the things the media is fear mongering about happened during his first term. Those people just wanted to see a man speak. To have some hope for the future. And some piece of shit shot them because he didn't like a presidential candidate. Or worse, because the TV made him scared.

Fifth, fuck the media. You think you hate them enough, but you don't. The media is the driving force behind our enemies, and there's no such thing as a good journopig. They're all lying propagandists. We just like some of them because their propaganda occasionally hits on the truth.

And that's all I got. None of this is organized, none of this is proofread. These are just the thoughts I've been wrestling with for the past few hours. This is the only place I can get them all down without being interrupted or feeling like I need to censor myself. Do with them what you will.

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Thanks for lunch Author's Notes: y'all see what I'm doing here... (ALSO imma go through my recent following this weekend and start blocking minors/ageless blogs. You've been warned!) Warnings: MDNI, Angst

Did Price play nice with Ghost? No. But he wasn't captain of a successful SAS team for no reason. The man here was playing chess, not checkers.

While it was his order to end whatever relationship they had with you, he gave himself some grace. He is Captain after all. He had to maintain some sort of relationship with you. Professionally, at least. I mean what kind of Captain would he be if he didn't watch out for his own?

That's why when he heard a loud gasp come out of your office, he went to check.

"Everything good?" he asks. You stand up in shock after just rummaging through your bag. You assure him everything was fine. This is your problem, not his.

"Are you sure? I'm the captain here, your problems are my problems" he pushes back. He throws you a small, comforting smile. Going against your best judgement, you decide to complain to your captain. You could take any support right now. Since Gaz and Ghost made it clear that they didn't care about you and Soap was doing his own thing, you were willing to take anything from anyone. Even if it's your boss who likes to remind you of your pitfalls.

"It's not that big of deal really. I just forgot my lunch today and I didn't have time to eat breakfast before coming in so I'm just a little disappointed." But while you're bummed out, Price sees an opportunity to give back.

So after giving you his condolences, he rushes back to his office and orders you both lunch. He tells himself that this was just him being a good captain. If you're hungry, you won't be able to work efficiently and obviously he has to make sure his team was on point. Did he go a little overboard with his order? Maybe. But you missed breakfast so you're probably starving. Better safe than sorry.

The order was set to come at noon. But to his disappointment, an emergency came up, forcing lunch to become a working group lunch. He wasn't concerned of what the others would think, because at the end of the day, he was just being a good captain.

So after setting y'all's lunch in the conference room, Price heads back to his office to pick up his laptop. On his way, he runs into you walking towards the conference room

He shoots you a quick smile, letting you know he’ll be there soon. Although small, it feels nice to be seen. So what if Ghost and Gaz didn’t care about you? It seems like you still have your captain.

A savory aroma hits your nose as you walk into the conference room. Your stomach growls. Your mouth waters as you see the rest of the team eating takeout.

“Oh, that looks good. Where’s it from?” Ghost and Gaz ignore you. Soap keeps eating but has the decency to respond.

With mouth in his food, he says, “honestly no clue. Price got this for us as his way to say thanks for our hard work.” You couldn’t believe it. When you complained this morning to Price, you didn’t think he would go out of his way to order everyone lunch. You could almost cry right now.

Before you can say anything, Price walks in. He freezes. He opens his mouth to speak but Soap beats him to it.

“There you are Captain. I put your plate by your seat,” he announces. You look at the table once more and count 1- 2- 3- 4… 4 plates. 4 plates and 5 people. And that's when it hits you. He got lunch for the team... not us, but his team. You nearly scoff out loud. This was real fucking low of him. Out of any day he could have "thanked" the team with lunch, he decides to do it today, the one day you confide in him about forgetting your own lunch. This is just cruel.

Price starts to sweat. He couldn't believe it. Ghost and Gaz keep eating while Soap stares at him. He's smiling, but Price could tell from his eyes that Soap was taunting him. He looks at you, but you don't bother to look at him. You just head to your seat and set your things down.

Annoyed, you tell Price to sit down so the meeting can start. Price hesitantly walks to his seat. He knows this looks bad, but he can't think of any way to spin this around. If he told you the truth, he'll look like a hypocrite in front of the boys. If he plays along, you'll for sure never trust him again. And it didn't help that Soap went on and on about how good the food was.

Unable to make a decision, Price opts to not eat. Or at least tried to.

"Cap'n, aren't you going to eat?" Soap asks loudly. Eyes goading him. Ghost and Gaz stop eating, curious to see how this will play out.

"I think I'll eat later. Not that hun--"

"Eat," you interrupt him. Your voice sharp. "It'll get cold. Just eat." You stare at Price, eyes completely cold. You have never looked at Price with so much disdain before.

Word Count: 865?

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[buckgasms]

Bunny and Clyde reader who ties bucky to the bed after he did soemthing she didn't like and decides to edge him for however long she can... lets just say when he finally gets out he will be using her to cum which means there's no reason for her to cum as she'll just be his toy. I'm fact, maybe there's no reason for her to cum ever again...

Hello!!

Thank you for this 🤌🏼excellent🤌🏼 ask and for all the amazing asks that have come through in the last few days!

They are all perfect! Please always feel free to send me filth and fluff and anything in-between!

So let's get started with this beauty....

🐇

I love the idea that Bucky wakes up with his Bunny sitting on his lap, his hands tied to the bed and you have the most wicked grin on your face.

And he's sooooo annoyed because somehow you have managed to do quite a good job at tying him up and he can't get to you. Can't grab you and show you whose boss. And you know it.

And he's so fucking hard about it too.

And you know it.

"What's going on Bunny?" He growls, trying to keep his voice calm, he's still in control...surely?

You pout and rake your nails gently down his chest, wiggling your heat against his cock as you do.

"You made bunny sad..." He lets out a sound somewhere between a huff and a gasp as your nails sink in a little harder. "You made fun of me in front of the other girls at the club and I don't like that..." You rolled your hips to emphasise your point making him groan again.

"Bunny...I...I'm sorry. Just untie me baby and I can make it up to you..."

You giggle and climb off him shaking your head. "Umm no, I want to feel better Bucky, I want you to feel how I felt. I think that's fair..."

When Bucky would cast his mind back to the moment in question, he thinks he may have made some lame joke about your taste in music that made two girls slightly chuckle. But that was life with his crazy bunny....

His crazy bunny who was busy plugging in a vibrator and has a very wicked look on her face.

"Now Bucky, when I'm naughty you tell me I can't come, even when I really, really want to. So guess what?"

You wiggle the vibrator and turn it on, it's humming filling the room as you climb back onto the bed.

"Bunny I swear to god...."

But he's words die in his throat as you gently press the buzzing device to his cock. He does his best to wriggle away but you know his moves and settle yourself on his leg.

"That feel good Bucky?"

You smile at him, his face a picture of anger and frustration. You know when he gets out you are in for it, but you figure you may as well enjoy yourself beforehand.

You lean down and press some kisses to his leaking tip, licking and sucking gently as the device presses into his balls.

"Fuck Bunny..." He lets out a delicious groan as his hips thrust forward into nothing. You suck a little harder, letting his tip hit the back of your throat before pulling away and letting the device take over.

"You gonna come Bucky? You sure look like you might..."

He growls and shakes, beads of sweat forming on his brow. His breath catches in his throat so you pull the vibrator off and giggle. "Uh uh! Not yet..."

He curses and tries to grab at you, but the binds are too tight. He exhales deeply and you feel his body relax a little. Well most of it.

"Look at your cock... It's so perfect" you muse as you run a finger over it, spreading his precum and making him cry out.

"Ooh too sensitive?? Poor Bucky, you need to try a lot harder if you want to make it up to me..."

He pants and tries to make his features more pleasant as he looks at you. "Told you bunny... Untie me... I'll make it up to you..."

You cackle and crawl over him, pressing a kiss to his face before pulling back.

"Nope"

🐇

Not to waste an opportunity you spend a little time grinding on him, letting yourself come as you ride his thigh and his stomach. You make a real mess of him, pressing kisses to his face as you deny him any pleasure.

His cock is throbbing and red but you are as good as your word and have refused to give him any release. You've teased, sucked, licked and vibed him to the edge many times, but nothing.

He must be delirious by now, you think as you consider finally letting him loose. Maybe too tired to punish you, and by the morning he will have forgotten all about it....?

What you didn't realise was that despite your hard work Bucky had been secretly working at releasing himself from your trap. Every moment of fury, focused on his escape.

To be honest he was actually very proud and he was as hot for you as he was cross. He should know better than to tease you, because you were his crazy Bun Bun.

But you had had your fun. It was his turn now.

You were standing in the middle of the room staring at the vibrator in your hand, deciding what to do next when you felt a strong pair of arms wrapped around you.

You let out a shriek as Bucky squeezed you tight and practically lifted you off the floor. "Buckyyy no!! Was gonna untie you just now!!" You wailed out as he threw you on the bed and squashed your body with his.

"Too late pretty girl, it's payback time..."

With a swift move he tied your hands together behind your back and pushed your face into the mattress, ass up in the air. Your feet kicked uselessly as he used the other rope to tie your ankles together.

"Now that's more like it. Just how a bunny should be." He said and you can imagine the smirk on his face as he admires his handiwork. You whine his name again but he just lands some broad spanks to your ass cheeks making your squeal.

You feel your face flush as his fingers spread your pussy lips apart and you feel his spit land on your soaked holes. His fingers delve in and out of you taking his time, prolonging the torture.

"Now bunny...I'm not cruel like you. You can come as much as you need. I don't mind one bit. In fact if you keep coming all night long that's fine with me. But I'm gonna keep using these holes until I'm satisfied... Ok? Don't care if you come so much you cry, dont care if you get all sore and puffy.... You made me wait, over and over and over. So I'm gonna keep going until I feel better. Got that?"

He took your moan as agreement before sinking into the hilt, a satisfied groan escaping from his lips. The room was filled with the slapping of skin at a steady pace, his filthy talk and your moans.

His hands gripped the cord around your wrists for purchase as he bounced you harder and faster chasing his long delayed release until his hips stuttered and he groaned, leaning down on your body for support as he emptied himself inside you.

He took a moment to recover before pulling out. Rolling you over and taking the sight of you in. Giddy smile on a tear stained face as you rolled a little more to look at him.

He sits himself down and pulls you into his lap and pushes his cock into you, enjoying your face of delight and the sound of his fat cock filling your already full hole. He gives you both a moment before bouncing you up and down as you can do nothing but take it, a glassy look drifting across your face.

"atta girl..."

🐇

It was early morning by the time he finally relented.

He'd fucked you every way he could think of, making up for all the orgasms you stole from him and then some. You had gone beyond the path of pleasure into another realm. Everytime you thought you couldn't come again, he dragged another from you. You were lucky you lived in his private mansion because you were sure the neighbours would have raised hell by now.

Now you were sitting in the bath, still trapped on his cock as he gently cleaned you all over, pressing kisses to your soft skin and whispering praises and filth in your ear.

"You like this don't you bunny? You like when we get a little feisty hmm? Like riling me up huh?"

You hiccup out a giggle when he drags a finger over your sensitive folds, reminding you he's still very much seated inside you with a gentle roll of his hips.

"Buckkyy I love it but please... I can't come again...please..."

He presses soothing kisses to your cheek and lays back pulling you with him, making his cock sink deeper somehow.

"Told ya bunny, I don't care... Your gonna come, just come baby, don't care how much it hurts, I want, what I want..."

He swipes and flicks at your puffy clit and gently thrusts upwards making the water slosh around you. You emit a long high pitched moan as your peak slowly but forcefully knocks the wind from your lungs.

He presses soft kisses to your face and shoulders, gently stroking your worn out limbs as you shudder to a halt, utterly exhausted.

"Good girl, that was a really good one Bunny..."

Eventually he is drying you off and bringing you back to bed, which he seems to have remade in your absence.

Your tired body slides into the middle of the bed and you sink into the pillows, limbs heavy and achey but you still feel on cloud nine. Strong arms wrap around you again, this time a lot less tight than the time before.

"Oh Bunny, such a silly girl hmm?"

You laugh softly, your voice feeling a little croaky as he presses kisses to your neck, making your tingle all over.

"Msorry Bucky. I just don't like it when you tease me in front of people..."

He chuckles as you yawn, hugging you closer and slotting his body closer behind yours. "I should know better shouldn't I baby girl?"

You yawn again and nod, letting your eyes flutter closed as his hands smooth over your body, gliding over your thighs, holding you tight.

You are just about to doze off when you feel his hands lift your thigh upwards and he presses his cock back into your pussy. You gasp and grip onto the pillow as his deep groan mixes with a chuckle.

"Bunny you need to pay attention more...I don't feel better just yet. Maybe one more and I'll feel better then..."

🫠

[astupidweeb69]

hello!! I am kinda nervous to write this bc I absolutely love your writing and the way you portray Toby is just so real. I love how you make him both a loser and a force of nature, like just bc he has no rizz doesn't mean he can't do anything lol. But I was lowkey thinking about your stories the other day and like, what if Y/N also had some screws loose? Like he pops up at her house covered in the blood of some guy who wouldn't leave her alone and instead of calling the police like a smart person she's just like: " 😳 omg you did this for me??" I know it's unrealistic and silly but it's also kind of interesting???

Ticci Toby x Violent! Reader

Toby with an unhinged reader? Well - there's a recipe for disaster lmao.

I know I said I'm not taking requests but this ended up becoming a scenario. I just had some inspo - hope this is what you were looking for! Because the reader isn't submissive? Idk

Y/N has some messed-up thoughts and there are mentions of violence under the cut!:

The reader I imagine in this case would have only seen how cringey Toby is - thinking he was just a creepy guy who's taken a liking to them and would avoid him at all costs. Probably up until this point assume that he's a wimp (Toby would initially try his best to seem weaker and unassuming when he approaches the person he likes)

The scenario I imagine is that Y/N grew up around conflict, and is fully comfortable around violence, even throwing a few punches themselves here and there. Maybe ended up in Juvie when they were younger and now works in some retail job - something where they regularly interact with the general public.

A customer tries to hit on Y/N when Toby's there - big mistake.

But Toby doesn't say anything at first.

He doesn't have to.

Y/N immediately shuts the customer down. But the guy doesn't let up. Curses are thrown back and forth, Y/N's wrist is grabbed.

He touched you.

Toby doesn't like that. Not one bit.

You get reprimanded by your boss after you punched the unruly customer in the face.

Luckily they didn't press charges.

You had a bit of an edge, from your surly demeanor and fucked sense of humor, but Toby had no idea you'd do that.

Kind of turned him on. He knew he picked you for a reason.

But alas, that was the extent of your revenge. You already had a record of aggravated assault and you didn't need another one added to the list.

Luckily for you that scrawny, lanky boy who always stared at you when he came in had a plan in motion.

Late at night, a knock on the door wakes you up from a nap on the couch. Of course, you look through the peephole first before answering.

Red.

Everything is red.

Only until you hear a familiar voice pipe up do you realize who it is.

Toby.

The blood covered so much of his face it was hard to point out who he was at first.

He speaks to you through the door, somehow already knowing you're there.

And he tells you what he did.

It takes a moment for you to process all the grizzly details, the way he followed the man, cornered him in an alley, and beat him so hard he'd pretty sure he cracked his skull on the brick wall.

He sounded giddy about it. Gleeful.

He was far from the loser you thought he was.

And you liked it.

Liked that he did that for you.

After all, in your head, hurting someone for someone else was the greatest form of love. It was the kind of devotion you'd always dreamed of from a partner.

You open the door.

Toby is surprised, but soon sees a look on your face he recognized. The kind of expression of sick joy and arousal that comes with blood lust.

You're blushing too. Blushing for him.

Everything was finally coming together perfectly, and once you let him into your home, he's never going to leave.

The relationship would start right off the bat. Toby is one to rush things.

It's all to claim you. Both mentally and physically. So you're attached to the hip pretty much. Expect a lot of PDA (Toby does not care who sees lol)

And a reader who's fully on board?

Yeah you're going to bring out the worst in each other. He'll encourage you to do more crimes, to get bloodier, to join him.

It would be a very bad situation for everyone involved.

But especially for anyone unfortunate enough to cross the paths of you two lovebirds.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

I'm in severe pain cause of endometriosis right now, can we get more loganxwadexdisabled!reader :3

"Out fucking cold," Wade declared.

Logan grunted, nodding wordlessly. He knew that. He could hear the change in your breathing once the medication kicked in. And again when sleep finally won out.

"You okay, Peanut?"

"Sure. Just glad she's not fucking screaming anymore."

"Pretty sure the screaming was mostly frustration," Wade hummed. "I had days like that where I just wanted to scream because it fucking hurt and there was nothing I could do about it."

In the dark of the bedroom Logan readjusted to be able to see both of you. Wade had a hand in your hair still, watching you with an expression that was hard to read. "And she can't even remember not hurting like that- I don't think."

Logan put his hand on top of Wade's and Wade smiled wryly, "If she could fight we'd be fucked."

"Probably," Logan snorted.

"Looks like you get to be all big and bad and tell her boss she's staying home tomorrow-"

"Good luck with that."

Wade grinned, "I had to double her fucking dose. Tomorrow morning she won't even know what day of the week it is. We could tell her it's Saturday and she'd probably buy it as long as I make pancakes and no on turns on the news."

Logan huffed a laugh and laid his hand on your back when you stirred in your sleep, making a soft little whimper that made him wince. "She's gonna be pissed."

"But she'll feel better," Wade said confidently. "Naps, kisses, and having hunky guys at her beck and call? If that doesn't fix some shit I don't know what will."

"Not a goddamn nurse-"

"Me either, Logi-bear," Wade reminded, "But-" He looked down at your sleeping form meaningfully. "Who else is gonna do it?"

A soft growl was the only answer but, he knew that it was true. You needed rest. Bad pain days were exhausting. They'd both seen you come home looking dazed and drained- like it took all your mental energy just to deal with it. But it had never been LIKE THIS. You'd learned to manage.

But this scared him. Scared them both.

_______________

In the morning, when you did wake up, Logan peered around the bathroom door and watched you carefully.

You sat up slowly and had to get your bearings. Eyes are half-open and still red. And his chest hurt. He wondered how many mornings you'd had to do this alone.

"How do you feel?" he asked, wiping shaving cream off his face and coming over.

"Like I got hit by a truck," you rasp.

"How's the pain?"

"It's there," you tell him, starting to get out of bed. You have to move. Your head feels like it's full of cotton. Your mouth feels like you were licking bowling alley carpet. And You're starving. "But I gotta get ready and-"

"We called you in," Logan said.

"But I gotta work and I need to get my stuff done today so I can-"

"Your boss was more than willing to give you a day off," Logan said, waiting to catch you if you wavered as you tested your feet on the floor. "You over did it, yesterday, huh?"

"I was fucking mad. It's just so fucking stupid. Every fucking year-"

"Hey," he stopped you and tilted your chin up. Bending down to kiss you gently. "don't hurt yourself just to prove something."

"Pot-"

"It's different," he grumbled.

"It's really not. I just don't heal." You take a deep breath and haul yourself to your feet with a groan. He watched you go, making your way to the shower and frowned. But he let you go, keeping an ear out in case you needed help as he went out to find Wade.

"Mornin' Peanut," he said, "How's our patient?"

"Getting a shower," he said frowning as he poured a cup of coffee.

"Someone's been dick slapped with some reality this morning," Wade said kissing his head, " 'S'matter, Logi-bear? Did our girlfriend just remind you-"

"Shut up," Logan growled. It was different. No one expected you to do all that shit. Sure you COULD. You weren't helpless. Or as fragile as he thought when he first met you. But- it was different.

"That's a yes," Wade hummed, kissing his head.

He growled and Wade huffed a laugh; both of them paused for a moment when there was a clatter from the bathroom and Logan half shrugged, "Shampoo bottle."

Wade nodded and carried on, putting food on the table; fussing with details. Making sure that there were pancakes with hearts on them for you and grumpy faces for Logan.

You come out in fresh pajamas and Wade bounds over, tilting your chin up and kissing your face, "She lives!" he declared. "And she looks like heaven."

"I feel like death warmed over."

"Well you'll feel better with pancakes," he said, "and hot chocolate."

"I'm gonna go into a sugar coma," you tell him, pulling him down to kiss him.

"You can't be in a coma," Wade said, "we're educating Logan on pop culture today. And you have a full day of pampering ahead of you-"

"Wade I'll be okay I just need-'

"Ah-ah-ah," he said, guiding you to the table. "This is for us," he explained. "We're traumatized. And now you just gotta let us get it out of our system. And I prefer to do it by making sure you're spoiled. Logan would probably fight your spine if he could figure out a way to do it."

[141trash]

Breaking Point pt 2

Read part one here

AN: Thank you so much for all the love on the first part! I had such a hard time writing this, mostly because I don't really know how to write scenes like this... So after multiple failed attempts I sort of copped out on the violence? I'm workin hard on part 3 pls let me know how you liked part 2

The first punch went straight into his gut, knocking the wind out of him. You let out a fearful squeak, squeezing your eyes shut and turning your head away.

"No, no." the man scolded mockingly, "Don't look away princess. Don't want you missing the show."

A hand grasped your hair roughly, pulling your head back sharply to an upright position and earning a startled yelp. He smirked, settling on the chair one of the other guards had brought in for him and forced you to sit at his feet, directly in front of Simon.

"Oi. Leave 'er alone. Your problem is with me yeah?" Simon lurched forward, but was yanked back by the guards and forced to his knees.

The grip on your hair tightened, causing you to whimper.

"Correct. My problem is with you." He leaned his face down next to yours, using his free hand to caress your cheek, "But this is a learning experience and we have to explore every angle."

You glowered at him, wrenching your jaw from his grip and in a brief moment of foolish bravery, spat in his face. Rage fluttered over his face, splotchy patches of red coloring his cheeks and neck.

"You would do well to watch yourself." he told you stiffly, "I might break my own rules, just to watch you suffer."

"You're a fucking freak!" you shouted back, "I don't know who you are! I don't know what you want. Just let me go."

Simon watched you thrash, trying desperately to get free. A flutter of protectiveness washed over him seeing the heavy set man looming over you. Even if you were working with them, which he was beginning to think you weren't, this sort of treatment wasn't something anyone deserved.

By the time they finally left, you'd screamed and cried yourself hoarse. Begging and pleading for them to s top as they forced you to watch the interrogation. Well it was less of an interrogation and more turning a man into a human punching bag.

All the while, the firm grip on your hair had forced you to continue watching, pulling you back every time you turned your head away. The slimy voice of the man who was clearly the boss, speaking directly in your ear, reminding you mockingly to keep your eyes open.

They left you shivering and cowering on the floor, not daring to move towards the lieutenant until the door had swung shut and the footsteps had faded away.

"I'm sorry." You whispered when the two of you were alone. Snot and tears dried on your face from having to endure watching a man get the life beaten out of him in front of you. He was slumped clutching his middle with one arm.

"S' not your fault." He grimaced, pushing himself up to lean against the wall for support.

He was hard to look at if you were being honest. One of his eyes would likely be swollen shut in a few hours, and there was a trickle of blood where one of the guards had split the skin just below his eyebrow. It wasn't like you'd never seen violence before. But action movies, and witnessing the occasional drunken street fight were nothing like this. The horrifying unrelenting sound of fists hitting skin, coupled with the muffled grunts of pain had left you nauseous.

"I know you from somewhere?" Simon broke you out of your thoughts. He was eyeing you again, studying you for any connection you two might have.

Unfortunately as unfamiliar as you were to him, he was to you as well.

Shaking your head you replied, "I don't think so. I don't recognize you."

He snorted a laugh, " 've usually got m' face covered up."

"What? Like. Like a mask?" Your face scrunched as you tried to picture it, "What are you some sort of superhero?"

Simon scoffed at the assumption and then let out a low groan, slumping further into himself. Fuck what were you supposed to do? The last time you'd taken first aid courses it'd been as a teenager so you could apply to be a camp counselor. You doubted those skills would be useful here anyways.

"I don't," you crawled over to sit next to him gulping nervously, "I don't know what to do. Please tell me how to help you."

"Save your strength. There's nothing either of us can do right now. My team will have noticed I'm gone by now. Likely they're on their way to find me."

You didn't know why, but the words were so reassuring. Especially considering he was a literal stranger. But looking him over, even though he was beaten bloody you felt hopeful. From his large muscular frame, to the faint scars that littered his visible skin, he felt like someone with experience.

"That man. He called you Lieutenant." You began hesitantly, "You're military?"

"I am. Can call me Ghost."

"Ghost." You repeated, raising your eyebrows. He took in your unimpressed expression and glared almost playfully at you.

"Yeah, Ghost."

"Whatever you say Lieutenant."

Taglist: @teehee-47, @bleuu-moon (cant remember if you wanted to be tagged so sorry if you didnt ^^;)

[soleilceirinen]

His secretary | Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader *

Summary: you are Tommy's secretary. After you make a mistake he decides that you deserve to be punished. You can't wait for it. A/N: this was inspired by the movie Secretary (2002), which is one of my favourites. I might write a second part soon. Warning: this contains smut * so if you are a minor, don't read this. Get away from here. English isn't my first language, sorry for the mistakes!

Peaky Blinders Masterlist

“Y/N” Tommy called. When you looked up you saw him frowning at you.

"Yes, Mr. Shelby?"

"Come to my office" he ordered before disappearing into said place without bothering to check if you were following him. Of course, he knew you'd show up soon.

You stood up, smoothed out the imaginary crinkles in your dress, and walked around your desk to head towards your boss's office.

"What's wrong, Mr. Shelby?" you asked, standing in front of his desk.

Tommy was sitting with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. He wasn’t looking at you, instead, he kept staring at whatever was written on the paper sheet.  You recognized it instantly, it was one of the letters he told you to write that morning. You rubbed your thighs together in anticipation and tried to suppress the smile that threatened to appear on your face.

Your boss placed the letter on the wooden desk so you could see it and took a sip of whiskey. “What is this, Y/N?”

You bit your lip. "It is the letter intended for Mr…"

He hit the wooden surface with the empty glass causing a loud bang and looked at you.  "This is fucking bullshit," he said quietly.

"Mr. Shelby, I don't know what you mean," you replied, feigning innocence in your wide eyes.

"I hired you because you had experience as a secretary. But this..." he said, pointing to the ink on the paper, "you've spelled half the words wrong, do you think I can send this thing to someone? They're going to think I have a brainless monkey writing my correspondence."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Shelby. I didn't realise," you whispered.

"What am I going to do with you, huh? Any of my brothers could have done it better."

"I don't know what to say, I'll try to do better next time, if that's okay."

Tommy leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands over his midriff, as if he were thinking about what to do with you, like he said.

"You deserve a punishment, don't you agree?"

Swallowing, you nodded, trying not to seem too eager. "Yes, you are right, Mr. Shelby. I deserve to be punished and learn to pay more attention from now on.”

Tommy stood up and slowly moved towards you, like a feline approaching its prey. Little did he know that he was more like a fly about to fall into the seducing trap of a carnivorous plant. He stopped next to you, so close that you could feel his breathing. He caressed your cheek with the back of his fingers before stepping back and clearing his throat.

"Since we both agree, lean over the desk and rest your forearms on it."

You did it just as he told you, leaning over the cold surface. From that position you couldn’t see him but you noticed Tommy positioning himself behind you, almost touching your buttocks. 

His warm hand slowly travelled from your neck, sliding between your shoulder blades, to your ass, where he stopped giving it a quick squeeze. A chill ran down your spine. Without warning you, his hand slapped your ass. You jumped at the sudden stab of pain as you tried hard not to let out a moan of pleasure.

Tommy grabbed the hem of your dress and lifted it until your skin was exposed from the waist down. He caressed the area where he slapped you over the thin stockings before hooking his fingers into the waistband and sliding the soft fabric down your legs.

His hand cupped your crotch, making your clit swell against his calloused fingers. "I've barely started and you're already dripping," he murmured, his voice hoarse.

You let out a soft moan, grinding your hips to feel the friction against his hand. He rubbed your clit through your underwear making you whine. "I'm this wet for you, Mr. Shelby."

He made a satisfied sound and removed his hand, depriving you of his warmth. Then, he bent against your body, leaning down to reach for the letter and placed it in front of your face, his growing erection pressed against your rear end.

"Read it aloud" he indicated. When you started to read Tommy in turn began to spank you rhythmically.

You were having a hard time concentrating on the words even though you had written them yourself. The sensations grew in intensity. Hearing Tommy behind you as he breathed heavily was taking you to the limit. 

After losing count of how many times you had read the letter, you leaned your forehead against the desk and closed your eyes while Tommy worked on spanking you over and over again. 

Clenching your thighs again, you tried to feel some pleasure on your aching pussy, to no avail. “Please, Mr. Shelby…”

He didn't stop. "Please, what?" he asked, pretending to be disinterested. He himself was on the verge of cumming just from seeing how wet your panties were. 

"I need… more. Please," you whined, squeezing your eyes shut and panting.

“I see,” he said, leaning over your back to grab your throat with his strong hand. "You want to cum, huh?"

You sobbed against the desk, drenching the letter with tears of frustration. "Y-yes, I need it, p-please."

Tommy cleared his throat, letting go of your neck and turning away from you. You remained bent over the desk, somewhat dazed for a few seconds. Then, you raised your head to look at him questioningly, opening and closing your mouth several times, but the words didn't seem to want to come out.

"Fix your clothes and your appearance, this is a serious, legitimate business. We can't give a bad image, huh? Now, get out there." Tommy ordered, walking around the desk. His erection was more pronounced than before but as soon as he sat down it disappeared from your sight. "I want you to rewrite the letter, this time without mistakes."

You gave him a look of disbelief as you stood up and put your clothes back in place. The soft fabric of your stockings stung as it rubbed against the sensitive skin of your butt. "Are you serious? Do you really want me to leave?"

Tommy looked at you with a raised eyebrow and lit a cigarette. "That’s what I said, innit? I told you that you deserved a punishment and here you have it, you’re not cumming. You screwed up the letter on purpose, Y/N, and this one was important. Now go out there and write the letter again, okay? I’ll see you later and I hope this time there are no mistakes."

You grabbed the letter without even looking at him and clenched it in your fist. As you turned to leave his office he called out your name, making you stop. You didn’t turn to face him, just waited there until he spoke. The least thing you wanted to see right now was his stupid and perfect face. The bastard for sure had a smug smile on it. 

"If Mr. Solomons is outside, tell him to come in."

You nodded slightly and walked out, closing the door behind you. Mr. Solomons wasn't there yet, it was too early for his appointment, you were the one who scheduled it after all.

Your skin was burning so you tried to sit down carefully, hissing a bit at the pain. This time, it wasn’t accompanied by pleasure but by frustration. The tears rolled down your face, probably smudging your makeup but you’d worry about it later. You were angry and frustrated after being so close to the climax, almost able to touch it with your fingers and all of a sudden, gone. 

Putting a new sheet of paper on the typewriter, you started writing the letter again. When you had only a paragraph left, a familiar face appeared at the entrance and walked towards your desk.

“Good morning, Mr. Solomons,” you greeted him politely, showing your best smile. The man scratched his beard and nodded.

"It's a good morning, yes it is."

"Mr. Shelby is waiting for you, you can come in now if you want" you said, looking at the closed door of Tommy's office. He hadn't got out since your encounter a while before. You wondered if he had been touching himself in the meantime. 

"Are you okay, love?" Mr. Solomons asked you, leaning down to get a better look at your face. "It seems like you've been crying, yeah, is it because of Tommy? I'm sure I'd cry too if I had to see him every day, right? I don't know how you put up with it, honey. Every time I have to talk to him, you know, and it's necessary for the business, it makes me want to shoot him in the face, you see."

A giggle escaped your lips. There was something about Mr. Solomons, maybe it was the way he spoke, although half the time you didn't understand what he was saying but you couldn't help but feel better every time you talked to him.

"I'm fine, thank you. I'd like to shoot him sometimes too, maybe in the balls but don't tell him," you confessed quietly, smiling wider.

The door to Tommy's office burst open, both you and Mr. Solomons turned your heads to look in that direction. Tommy stared back at you with his cold blue eyes narrowed.

"Y/N, I don’t pay you to make small talk. No more mistakes, do you understand?" He snapped, you nodded slightly and rolled your eyes, turning away so he wouldn't see you. Mr. Solomons noticed this and laughed. "Alfie, come on. I don't have all day."

Both men disappeared inside the office, leaving you alone with the typewriter. You finished the last paragraph, and there, on the last word, you let your finger hit the wrong key.

Oops.

[miserable-sarah]

MASTERLIST

Supernatural:

Sam Winchester:

Caught (NEW) ~ Y/n needs to relax, Dean leaves and Sam takes the opportunity to help her. ~ 18+, NSFW, SMUT.

The Date ~ Y/n is getting ready for a big date with Sam, Sam surprises her at the date. ~ No warnings, very sweet story.

The Red Dust ~ Sam and Y/n go on a hunt together, it goes sideways and they get hit with a spell. Y/n needs release and doesn't know how to get it. ~ 18+, NSFW, MDNI, choking, smut.

What? ~ Rough sex with sam, a couple months later you find out you're pregnant and you tell him after a hunt. ~ 18+. NSFW, MDNI, pregnancy

Listen ~ You go on a bad hunt, a hunt you weren't supposed to go on. ~ 18+, Daddy Kink, NSFW

Bad Boy ~ Sam is possessed by a demon. A Vey hot Sam. ~18+, NSFW

Shy Sam ~ Sam likes you, Dean teases him about it. ~ No warnings.

Something New ~ Y/n is casually drinking at a bar, Souless sam approaches. ~ 18+, Souless Sam, mentions of killing/murder, NSFW

I'm Here ~ You get taken by Crowely, Sam finds you and saves you. ~ 18+, NSFW, Kidnapping, mentions of smut

Sammy ~ Sammys got a big crush on you. ~No warnings, just cute.

Hurt ~ You and Sam get hurt during a hunt, you get some days off together. ~ voilence, fluff.

Sam's Got A Crush ~ How Sam would act when he's got a crush. ~ Blurb, No warnings.

I Will Always Love You ~ Y/n is depressed. ~ Sad, language.

Party ~ You and Sam go to a party and play spin the bottle. ~ Teenage Sam and Reader (18), Drinking.

Are You Alright ~ You asked Sam to be more rough in bed. He delivers. ~ 18+, NSFW.

Dating Sam ~ Dating Sam ~ Blurb, No warnings.

Just Thinking ~ Y/n can't help but notice how good Sam looks. Y/n has a lot of dirty thoughts. ~ 18+, NSFW, mentions of sex.

For the First Time ~ Sam and Y/n meet through Donna. ~ No warnings.

Thank you ~ Sam hates the way Dean treats you, he takes you from Dean. ~ 18+, NSFW, Abuse.

I Have To Tell You ~ Y/n gets hurt on the hunt, Sam decides he needs to tell her how he truly feels. ~ Reader getting hurt.

Feel Loved ~ Y/n has bad luck with relationships, she's really lonely and wants to feel loved. ~ 18+, NSFW, drinking, bossy Sam, bossy y/n.

Sam? PT. 1 ~ Sam is a demon. ~ 18+, NSFW, Demon rough Sam <3.

Sam? PT. 2 (Final) ~ Demon Sam ~ 18+, NSFW, tied up.

Dean Winchester:

I Care (NEW) ~ Dean and Y/n break up, after a few months Dean saves her from a vamp nest. They make up. ~ 18+, NSFW

I'm Back! ~Y/n leaves randomly one day, Y/n is gone for 6 years. She comes back. Dean hasn't gotten over her leaving. ~ fighting, no other warnings.

I Dare You ~ Dean protects you. ~ No warnings.

Dean's Got A Crush ~ Dean's got a crush on you ~ Blurb, No warnings.

I've Missed You ~ You haven't seen Dean for 6 years, he left you. He didn't want you to get hurt. You run into him during a hunt. ~ 18+, smut

Dating Dean ~Dating dean ~ Blurb, No warnings.

Life Is Hard ~ Reader is depressed. ~ Sad

Time For Bed ~ quick little fluff. ~ No warnings.

Can I See Your Tattoo? ~ Y/n finally gets the nerve to make a move on Dean ~ 18+. NSFW

Just Go Away ~ Dean gets mad at Y/n after a hunt. ~ 18+, NSFW

Fucking Car ~ Y/n is mad because Dean spends all his time working on his car. ~ 18+

Finally ~Y/n and Dean have a crush on each other, the never tell each other. One day Y/n walks into the bathroom while Dean is in there, he takes control and kisses her. ~ 18+, smut, Loving Dean (warning for the heart. )

Lucky ~ Y/n gets kidnapped by Crowley, he tortures her trying to get info, Dean and Sam save her. Dean eventually tells her that he wants a life with her. ~ Voilence, torture, blood.

Please. ~ You wanted to dominate over Dean for once and he let you. ~ 18+, NSFW, sub Dean.

Sam, Dean, Prefrences:

NYE Parties ~ Sam and Dean's NYE ~ No warnings.

How He Would React ~ How he gets when you flirt with someone else. ~ 18+, NSFW

Marvel:

Bucky Barnes:

Mine (NEW) ~ Bucky is your boss, you always had a little crush on him. He has one on you too and he shows you. ~ 18+ only, NSFW, Smut, sir kink, Dom(Bucky).

I hate you ~ You and Bucky get stuck on a mission together 18+ ~ Smut mentioned, voilence, language.

You forgot me ~ Bucky gets controlled again, he forgets you. ~ Fighting, language.

Let's go on a date ~ You and Bucky meet in 1940, he takes you out on a date. You end up meeting again after he's taken. ~ Language.

Take Me Home ~ A guy hits on you, Bucky gets jealous. You find it hot and want him to take you home. ~ Smut, NSFW, choking, praising kink.

Date ~ Bucky takes you out on a date after being told by your cousin Clint. You and Bucky have a wonderful time. ~ NO warnings.

Never ~ Steve leaves you and Bucky helps you get through it. ~ Sad, death

Chris Evans/ Steve Rogers/ Lloyd Hansen:

Sunshine ~ Lloyd takes you. ~ NSFW, 18+, Blade kink, Daddy Kink, ect.

I Don't Really Give A Shit What You Want ~ Chris pisses you off so you give him the silent treatment. He gets back at you. ~ 18+, NSFW, rough.

Sit ~ Chris comes back from a trip very frustrated. ~ NSFW, 18+, ect.

Let's Stay ~ Steve wants to stay home. ~ No warnings.

Impressive (NEW) ~ Steve always has to be in control ~ 18+, NSFW

Thor:

I Need You ~ Thor comes back, he's sad, mad, and needy. ~ Smut, 18+.

I've Missed You. (NEW) ~ Thor comes back from Asgard, he shows you how much he's missed you. ~ 18+, NSFW, sweet but rough Thor.

[tocomplainfriend]

Episode 4

TW: Rape, Sexual Assault and Abuse, Physical abuse.

So uh, I really did just guess "there is no way it's that bad, right?"...

OK, SO LET'S TALK. So again if you haven't seen the episode big Trigger Warning for its content! It's real heavy, explicit and on your face. I'm a Sexual abuse victim talking about this, just so you know.

I think the bigger problem I have with the episode, it's the context surrounding it and what happens later on, specially. Many people can have different views on the poison scene itself, for their own. But that scene, even if you as a victim relate, can only really work in a vacuum. Why? Let's see... hum.... The jokes of male SA in Helluva Boss? How it's written as funny to Moxxie to get assaulted? By the Succubus, Blitz, Chaz? Not seeing any problem in Stolitz, and victim blaming Blitz.

Suddenly Viv wants to be like: "Male sexual assault and abuse it's so not talked about, I'm going to write about it". As if she didn't write all those HB jokes. All those jokes are only men getting assaulted too, by other men or woman. The SA and r-pe it's funny when it's done to men, why did this even happen?

Even if the entire episode 4 was good, why did the same person write all this jokes? Is the sexual harassment Angel does to husk, even going to be addressed later or...? The biggest problem, it's the bad execution. Something happens a lot with HB and HH, it's that scenes and concepts work In isolation, that way you imagine in infinite possibilities of the "what if this". But they give you is in it'self not that good. The series does expect you to be a fan, and have to watch the pilot. Because it doesn't really bother to introduce the characters or anything. So the emotional bits don't hit that hard if you didn't already care about the characters since or before the pilot.

Since the first episodes, Valentino has being changing between fucking idiot and horrifying monster. In episode 2 he is treated as a stupid dumbass. I feel like all the episodes until 4 were too much, on the comedy shit- to immediately jump into explicit abuse and SA is a lot. In the end of the episode they also shift back the tone, weirdly.

So we jump into Val and Angel's work, showing how shitty val is. Charlie jumps into interrupting the hole thing. AND VAL ASSAULTS HER TOO??? I didn't expect that. He grabs her kisses and lick up her arm, and gets too close to her in other scenes. Then Charlie accidentally ruins the set, and Val ends up physically abusing Angel. Living him with a black eye, and it's shown Angel did a deal with him. Leaving him fully trapped with him (not a legal contract, but a devil/sinner bound magic thing). Then it's poison music number.

Many people feel like it's too graphic. Other people will say it's okey, because it shows the problem straight on, and it's supposed to make you uncomfortable.

Explicit doesn't = good.

You can talk a lot of what does this level of graphic/explicit add to the conversation.

My main problem with it being so explicit comes from who is directing that hole part of the episode. I talked about it in the post above. The person in question:

(BLURRED CUT PICTURE)

Does this scene above seem familiar to you? This person put together with how the poison part of the episode is played out AND all the disgusting "SA is funny" jokes HB make this a fucking problem.

AND THEN THE FUCKING ENDING IS CRAZY BAD LIKE HELLO???? At the end, Angel is at a bar, and his drink gets spiked. Husk gets him out and fights against the guys that spiked the drink. Then they kindly have an argument... To get through the whole heavy ass episode- to then Husk hit with a song calling Angel a baby IS FUCKING CRAZY. I see what the point was supposed to be, but the execution absolutely kills it. The song tries to compare Husk and Angel, to say shit sucks but hey it's okay we are in this together, BUT HOLY SHIT. Why, comparing Angel Dust being sexually abused under a demonic contract (HE IS STILL UNDER)- to Husk having to work for Alastor. Yes, Husk fucked up his life in hell do to gambling- that's not comparable to Angel being in an abusive relationship where he gets taken advantaged of. Calling Angel dust a baby loser, "everyone got it difficult get over your self"- it's fucking crazy. The fact that the episode ends on everyone happy and laugh it off it awful! WHAT HAPPEN???????? Like Angel is still under Val's contract- his going to have to go back to work, or to any other place where his drink could be spiked. We are still in the same problem. I don't- I don't understand. The song wasn't even a "I'll help you", it felt more like "Hey shit sucks, get over it". How did you write that? I don't think the series has the time or good enough space to treat the subjects- and they are dealing in the worst way.

EDIT:

I cannot believe this woman made a cum joke, about the song that it's about being trapped with your abuser- that comes with really graphic scenes of assault and r-pe. Like the whole song it's about that???? It's not a "Hot sexy" song, it's literally all sexual assault and workplace abuse.

This scene is from a non canon comic from the same artist above, got immediately referenced in the scene after poison. That's crazy. Also, The artist is... uh......... Did you know that in episode 4. It got showed that Angel's real name is Anthony? They changed their name to Tony, make themselves look like Angel? Now does sex work like Angel. They choreographed the pole dancing in Addict?

AND Viv just reduced Angel's Sexual Harassment of Husk as:

Angel trows himself to Husk, grabs him, touches him, makes unwanted sexual comments. You, have never left the weird shipping of queer of mean that revolts around sexual harassment. It's like old ass garbage Wattpad yaoi, not acknowledging those problems. Why is there more attention to that than Charlie and Vaggie, who lacks so much personality and everything. WLW with no condiments and artificial as fuck MLM with microplastics.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I've got a way more fun and much less racist conspiracy theory if anyone wants it: the whole show is Ed and Stede telling the story of how they met and got together to their grandkids while they're babysitting. That explains the over-the-top nature of it, they're trying to keep kids interested in a fun pirate tale.

In real life, Ed and Stede opened up coffee shops right next to each other. Stede's shop had multiple chandeliers, one time Izzy went in and Stede told him to fuck off and Ed was obsessed with that. Ed saving Stede from the Spanish was actually him swooping in to fix Stede's many, many health code violations.

Izzy is still equally as intense as he is in the show ("I was honored to work for the legendary Blackbeard, the most genius part-time Starbucks manager I'd ever known"). He still tries to kill Stede (tries to hit him with his 2006 Chevy Malibu) so Ed fires him. Izzy then just straight up calls the cops on the coffee shop, which is annoying but ultimately doesn't go anywhere because, again, they run coffee shops. Stede has his crisis after Ed admits he's thinking about selling his shop because running it is just stressing him out so he goes back to Mary; they end up finalizing their divorce papers after like 30 minutes.

Ed's feeling bummed and can't reach Stede on social media, so he feels abandoned and reaches out to the crews of their shops for companionship. Izzy threatens to call the cops on him again and he freaks out because he realizes this mean little White guy is totally willing to weaponize that against him.

Ed's "kraken era" in "real life" is just him firing Lucius and then "marooning" Stede's crew by changing the locks on Stede's coffee shop so they can't get in. He tries to force the crew to unionize against him and force him out of the coffee shop he hates running by making them work overtime. He starts talking about making them work a big Black Friday-esque sale and Jim just throws a bag of coffee beans at his head with expert precision and knocks him tf out.

Stede finds the crew loitering outside his shop and they go to sort things out like five minutes later. He finds Ed just fucking face-down on the kitchen floor. They take him to the hospital, Ed has to pretend to let Lucius be his boss for like a week, and for the rest of their lives every time Ed suggests something Jim doesn't like they say "don't make me bean you again, old man."

The rest of the show is them trying to translate how they navigated building their relationship into their pirate fantasy. Characters like the Badmintons and Ned Low are blatant wish fulfillment on old bullies. Season 2 feels rushed because the kids' parents are coming to pick them up soon so they have to hurry. Izzy dies in the show because they just fired him in real life but they wanted to give the kids a moral story but panicked and had to think of an out so the kids don't ask where he is now.

Do I have hard evidence for this? Don't worry about it. Yes, I know I'm a genius, please hold your applause.

[oliversrarebooks]

Apparently I went ahead and just wrote "villain being drugged and taken care of by hero doctors" because why not.

Masterlist

TW: injury, concussion, drugging, abuse

Oh, he'd really fucked up this time. Already so weary, at the end of his rope, he failed to notice the energy blast coming from the youngest member of the hero team, the one who struggled to keep her powers under control. He knew how badly he'd fucked up when his back hit the wall, pain exploding from every muscle, especially the parts of his back where his boss had already punished him. His head impacted the concrete with a sickening crack that made him see stars.

Villain sank helplessly to the sidewalk, his body refusing to obey his commands. Through his blurred vision, he could see the painfully bright costumes of the hero team, and he tried to struggle to his feet. He couldn't fail here. It simply wasn't an option. Failure meant risking the wrath of his boss, or worse, being captured and at the mercy of the heroes.

Pain radiated from his knee as he tried to stand. It was broken, maybe. Even more urgently, every tiny movement of his head caused a wave of dizziness, the world tilting and spinning in a nauseating blur. He searched for the word. Concussed, he was concussed. Shit. This was bad.

"Oh god oh god oh god." That was the high pitched voice of the young hero. "Oh god, are you okay? I didn't mean to hit that hard -- oh no oh no --"

Villain tried to answer, but his tongue was thick in his mouth.

"Step aside."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt him that bad --"

"It's okay, Youngest. Step aside and let me take a look."

Villain would know that voice anytime, anywhere, the smooth and confident voice of his nemesis, the city's most beloved superhero. Powerful, upstanding, and disgustingly rules-abiding. Villain hated him. Hated that he had so much power and had the luxury of helping people with it.

"Villain, speak to me," said Nemesis. "Stay awake. Talk to me. How bad is it?"

Nemesis' face swam into view before Villain's eyes. Fuck, this was really bad. He tried hard to focus. He had to slip away, couldn't let himself be captured. Boss would be furious. He'd hurt Villain so much worse than he'd already been hurt.

"Let me go," Villain managed, but it sounded weak and pathetic.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Villain. You're severely injured. I'm going to get you medical attention."

Villain tried to shake his head no, but all it did was make him twice as dizzy. He felt on the verge of passing out.

"Stay awake, Villain, please, keep those eyes open. Can you see my fingers? How many fingers am I holding up?"

The fingers were nothing more than an indistinct blur. Villain couldn't answer. All he could think of was his boss's unquenchable rage when he learned Villain had fucked up so badly. He could feel it now, power suppressants strapped to each of his limbs, the way the smooth metallic floor of the lair felt against his face as his boss mercilessly beat him for his failures.

"Get up, Villain," said the cruel voice of his boss, as he delivered a sharp kick to Villain's ribs. "Get the fuck up. I don't pay you to cower on the floor." 

"I -- I can't --"

"Yes, you can, Villain. You can keep your eyes open," said a much gentler voice. "You can stay awake for me, please, stay awake. The medic is almost here."

It sounded nice. The voice was familiar. He felt himself nodding. A medic. That sounded good. 

"That's good, Villain. Stay awake. Just a little more." 

A strong hand squeezed his, warm and comforting. Everything hurt except for that. He tried to squeeze back.

"Yes, that's good. I'm here. You're gonna be okay, Villain, we're gonna keep you safe."

Safe. What the fuck was safe? When had he ever been safe? Safety was for people like -- like -- His sluggish mind placed the voice and face. Nemesis. Fuck. He instinctively backed away. 

"No, no, it's okay! Just try to relax. I'm not going to hurt you."

"No -- no --" If the punishment Villain's boss doled out was bad, he couldn't imagine what Nemesis might do to him. He'd been a thorn in Nemesis's side for years.

"The medic's here, Villain. Just try to stay calm. I've got you."

Before he could protest further, Villain felt arms picking him up and laying him down on a gurney. His struggle against them was fruitless, his limbs weak and uncoordinated.

"Should we strap him down?" said a voice.

"I think you'd better. He doesn't seem to be all there. And even if he was..."

"Please --" said Villain, too quiet for anyone to even hear, as he felt pressure against his chest and legs, holding him down. 

"The concussion seems to be very serious, and there are multiple fractures at a minimum, not to mention the possibility of organ damage and internal bleeding," said a serious voice. "We'll have to administer painkillers and sedatives, and prepare an OR for emergency surgery."

"No!" Villain called out, a surge of adrenaline giving him the strength to fight. "You can't -- you can't capture me -- don't drug me -- let me go!"

Nemesis' firm hands pinned Villain's shoulders to the gurney. "You're going to hurt yourself, Villain. We're getting you medical attention. We're not going to hurt you, I swear it."

Incoherent nightmares filled Villain's foggy mind. "Yes, you are! Yes, you --"

His voice was suddenly muffled by a black rubber mask, and he gulped down a chemical-smelling, drug-laden breath before he realized it. He fell back against the gurney, his head much woozier and dizzier than it had been even a moment before.

"Just try to relax, Villain," said Nemesis. "It's just going to ease your pain and make you drowsy, okay?"

Villain shook his head in a vain attempt to get the mask off his face, but Nemesis' hand was holding it firm. Incapacitating him. Placing Villain at the mercy of the man who must hate him more than anyone. And his struggles were useless, the mask not budging an inch. 

Exhausted by his attempts, Villain stopped struggling for a moment and allowed Nemesis's face to come into focus. He didn't look angry. He looked... sad? Villain blinked, and he realized that his eyelids were so heavy. The sedative was kicking in. He was utterly helpless. And he should be terrified of that, but his fear was starting to feel foggy and far away, almost as if he was watching himself from a distance.

"That's good, Villain, you're doing okay. Just keep breathing," said Nemesis.

He sounded so... reassuring. Villain wondered briefly if that was how he sounded when he rescued civilians. Sometimes, on particularly bad nights, he wondered how that would feel. Being an innocent civilian safe in Nemesis' arms, as opposed to a villain fighting tooth and nail just to survive.

"You can shut your eyes now," said Nemesis. "You can go to sleep if you're tired. It's okay. You're safe."

Villain wanted to laugh. He never got to sleep just because he was tired. He was so, so tired, all of the time. And he was so impossibly, incredibly tired now. His knee hurt, his back hurt, his head felt like it was being jackhammered. His heavy eyes wanted so badly to close and stay shut. He just wanted to sleep. But he was in danger, wasn't he? He couldn't sleep here. Boss would kill him. He couldn't... sleep...

"...stronger sedative to put him under..." a voice was saying. 

There was the unmistakable feeling of a cold needle in the crook of his elbow. Villain wanted to fight it, stop it from happening, but all he could do was blink his heavy eyelids. "Don't..." he muttered. "Please don't... please..."

"Ssh, Villain, it's okay, I swear," said Nemesis. "I swear no one here is going to hurt you. You're just going to go to sleep, okay? The drugs are going to make you feel really warm and nice and then you'll go to sleep, and nothing bad is going to happen. I promise."

That strong hand squeezed his again. Villain felt so safe, so comforted, and he was so sleepy now, so sleepy and relaxed. The world was just a fading blur beyond his half-closed eyelids. He couldn't feel the pain as much any more. All he wanted to do was sleep. He never got to just sleep. Sleep would make him feel so much better.

"It's okay to sleep," said the reassuring blur. "I'll be right here."

Villain remembered the reason he couldn't go to sleep. "Boss...?" he said weakly. "Boss is gonna..."

"He's not here right now, Villain. I'm here. And I'll protect you while you sleep. No one is going to hurt you."

This had to be a dream. A beautiful dream where he got to sleep and someone was going to protect him from his boss. But he never got nice dreams like that.

"Is it..." His mind was so hazy. He couldn't think of what he was trying to say. "I'm..."

"You're going to sleep, now, Villain. You need to rest. Go to sleep. Shut your eyes. Rest."

"Mmm." He was too tired to argue. It felt so, so good to close his eyes. He could feel his pain fading as he relaxed onto the gurney.

"...surgery... gonna have to..."

"...can't just let him..."

"...right thing to do."

That was the last thing he heard before the sedatives pulled him down into a dreamless sleep.

Masterlist

[the-froschamethyst4]

Panties on The Ground

𖤐Pairing: Captain Price x Sargent! F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: Smut, language, kissing/making out, age gap (28-40), P in V, eating out, pussy slapping, cheating Price, the other woman,

𖤐Summary: Y/n know she shouldn't be doing this with a married man

————

————

Price was panting like he just ran a marathon, his right hand resting on her waist and the other with a handful of her hair, clothes scattered around his office.

Y/n knows she shouldn't be doing this, this is her boss, her captain, he's fucking married for fucks sake and she is being used like a little play thing.

Y/n looked over her shoulder seeing Price rest his head between her shoulder blades.

"God you're so tight," he mumbles against her back.

"C-Captain, w-we should stop."

"Why? We've only just begun," he smirks and he starts going faster and harder than before, it felt wrong to moan his name, his left hand moved from her hair to being slammed on the wooden desk and she sees his black chrome wedding ring.

Fuck this is wrong.

"C-Captain, s-stop please, t-this is wrong."

"It's not when I plan to divorce that woman anyways, she doesn't think I know...she's been cheating on me for years, why can't I do the same? Why is it wrong when I do it but I'm suppose to brush her off and let her do it? It's not wrong, this is fucking revenge," he groans as both of his hands held her waist as he starts moving faster. "This is fucking right."

"I-I-."

"Just hush and take it," he says, moving his right hand over her mouth to muffle her moans.

The room was filled with satisfied moans, skin slapping against one another and Price's subtle praises.

"You so good for me," he says against her ear.

Her moans were soft and sounded like velvet. Her hands gets tangled up in the one resting on the wooden desk. Price leans down sucking on her neck and leaving some bite marks as well.

Price then pulls out of Y/n and turns Y/n on her back, she groans from the feeling of nothing inside of her.

Price sits in his chair and moves closer to Y/n's lower half, her feet rested on his shoulders, he kisses the back of her thighs, the back of her calves, her ankles and then slowly moved back up, he licks a stripe on her pussy and watched her moan and her head fall back hitting against the hard desk.

He then starts a soft make out session with her clit, earning soft moans from her and her hand going to his soft hair, his beard scratching against her clit and thighs.

Her thighs then squeeze around his head but they were quickly pride back open. Price looks up at her and moves his tongue, she moans from the sudden coldness against her pussy.

Price smirks and leans on his hand looking bored but wanted to tease Y/n a bit. Y/n looks down at him and she could see the smirk on his face.

"W-What are you sm-smirking at?" She asks. He doesn't say anything but just starts smacking his wet pussy, she jolts and moans, she tries to grab his hand to stop but he quickly moves it away.

"No, don't grab me," he says, he smacks her again and she jolts.

"F-Fuck."

"Such a naughty mouth," he says, he smacks her again and again.

Knock knock

"Fuck," they both said. Price pulls Y/n up off his desk and they quickly start getting their uniforms back on.

Knock Knock

"HOLD ON!" Price yells. "I'M WRAPPING UP A MEETING!" He lied.

"Well, hurry it up, John, we need to talk," it was his fucking WIFE.

"Price," Y/n whimpers. Price bends down and kisses Y/n's lips trying to distract her, Price's wife isn't going to know about his affair on his wife with his Sargent.

"Fix your hair, love," he says and she does just that pushing it back in its usual slick back ponytail and Price opened the office door.

"You're here because?" He says, sounding annoyed.

Price and his wife haven't been happy since their 3 years of marriage because that's when Price found out about his wife's affair. Only married for 5 years too.

"I should head out. Thank you, for listening to me, Captain."

"Of course," he says, looking down at Y/n as she walks out of his office.

"Listening to her about what?" She asked.

"None of your concern, what do you want?" He repeats.

"I just wanna talk to you is all."

"If you're here to talk about marriage counseling again, I'm going to deny again," Price says.

"We have to go Price-"

"No, you want to go to show that we are a happy couple but deep down, we're not fucking happy, we're fucking miserable around each other, I can't wait when I leave home to come to work, you know how sad that fucking sounds? Listen Linda I'm not going and I want a divorce, for the past 2-3 years, I've found out you've been cheating on me and I didn't want to say anything, because I didn't the marriage to end, but now I'm sick and tired of the bullshit," Price pulls out papers.

"I'm fucking done, sign them and we'll go to court do all the legal shit and we'll be out of each other's lives for good, just sign the goddamn papers."

"Seriously? Fine," she takes a pen and signs them. "I just wanted to talk but if this is what you wanted then so fucking be it, John. I hope you found a place to stay because the house is mine, you know?"

"Well, I don't fucking care, I do have a place, you can leave my fucking office now."

Y/n heard it all from the other side of the door, was she fucked did Linda maybe put to-and-to together and he knows about his affair on her with Y/n?

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

Y/n was at the mess hall picking at the food on her plate, she wasn't hungry she felt guilty. Ghost, Soap and Gaz all sat next to her, they start picking on her about not eating and then picked on her about being a barrack bunny.

Y/n use to be one in her rookie days, but had stopped when she became Sargent, but now her and Captain Price fuck whenever they want each other and had to hide that from everyone on base.

"Funny." She says as the guys all laughed at her.

"You're not eating?"

"I'm not hungry."

"You feeling guilty about something?" Gaz asked. A flash of her being naked of Price's desk and seeing his wedding ring on his finger flashed through her mind.

"No," she lied.

"Then eat, come on, love bug," Ghost starts to move Y/n's fork to her mouth but she was fighting him.

"No, I'm not hungry."

"Come on, eat," then Gaz and Soap held her hands down as Ghost grabbed her jaw and opened her mouth forcing her to eat from his fork.

"That was awful."

"It's the only way to get you to eat." Gaz said.

"We know how you are," Soap says.

"Sargent L/n." They looked to see where the booming voice had came from it was Price. "My office," he says.

She throws her food away and walks with Price to his office.

"I saw that by the way."

"Saw what?"

"How they held you to force you to eat."

"I just..."

"Feel guilty?"

"Yes."

"Don't, you did nothing wrong this, this relationship we have going on, I started it, you didn't. I don't want you to feel bad over nothing, understand?" She just nods. "Come on."

Price pushes his office door open and sits behind his desk, Y/n just stands in front of the closed door.

"Strip." He says.

"Sir-"

"Strip...I had gotten an email, I need to do a...through body check with you," he says, her face heated up.

She does what he says, stripping from her uniform, unlacing her boots and kicking them to the side. Then her belt holding up her pants that were already to big for her. Once the belt released her pants slid down to her ankles, she steps out of the pants and Price had got up from his chair.

Picking Y/n up with one arm under her butt and taking her to his desk. Setting her down and getting between her legs as he sits back down on his chair.

"No panties?"

"I-I couldn't find them after...your wife showed up," she says. Price smirks opening one of the drawers at his desk.

"This pretty thing?" He says spinning the panties on his finger.

"Price!"

"They were...on the ground...where Linda could see them."

"Dammit."

"I'm keeping these till farther notice."

"You act like I don't have more?"

"Oh? Shall I go to your barracks and take every single panty from your drawer and you can't wear any?"

"No, sir."

"Tsk, I might just do it for the hell of it," he says with a smirk on his face and he leans forward to attack her neck with bite marks and small hickies on her neck as well.

"W-What did you two talk about?"

"Divorce," well that was blunt.

"Right...you didn't bring up us did you?"

"Us? There's an us?"

"I mean-shit no there's not but like what we were doing?"

"No, but she knew about me possibly cheating as well, but I told her that she started it basically."

"You should like a high schooler trying to justify cheating."

He just chuckles and puts his hands under her shirt and starts pulling it over her head, she was completely naked sitting in front of her Captain.

"Now...where were we?" He asked with a stupid smirk on his face