#never would I thought this is what I would talk about on tumblr

[cleo-fox]

Conquer

Part 3 of 5

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: The king intends to take a bride. You just never thought it would be you. (Soulmate AU where Loki won)

Chapter Summary: Loki proposes a challenge and your plan goes very awry.

Pairing: Loki x Female Reader

Tag List: I don’t have a tag list for this fic, sorry! The best way to hear about updates is to follow me on Tumblr or subscribe to the fic on AO3.

Chapter Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, enemies to lovers, dirty talk, praise kink, edging, teasing, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, orgasm delay, semi-public sex, light Dom/sub, light bondage, sex toys, oral sex (see series masterlist for series warnings)

A/N: Woof, sorry for the delay on this chapter. It was surprisingly challenging to write and it took me a minute to figure it out. But it's here! Lemme know what you think!

Loki only calls you ‘wife’ when he has sex on his mind—he knows it gets you riled up.

He doesn’t usually break it out at the breakfast table, though.

“I’ve noticed something, wife.” His eyes are glittering in a way that always signals he’s up to no good.

You cross one leg over the other and try to keep your expression neutral, even as your stomach jumps and your heart beats just a little faster. “What’s that?”

His gaze sweeps along your legs, the corner of his mouth twitching like he has a direct line to your thoughts. “You are an enthusiastic participant in our marital relations, but you rely entirely on me to initiate them.”

He waits a beat and your stomach drops. In retrospect, it was a bit silly to think he wouldn’t notice this. Loki always notices.

“Now, why is that?” he continues.

It’s a question that you don’t particularly want to answer. You suspect that he knows this, based on the laughter dancing in his eyes. 

You clear your throat. “Maybe it’s because you unironically use phrases like ‘marital relations.’”

He taps a finger against his lips. “Interesting deflection.”

“It’s not a deflection.”

“You forget, my love, that I am the god of lies.”

You press your lips together and take a sip of water. “Have you considered that it’s maybe a little challenging being the soulmate of the guy who took over the planet?”

You expect him to be angry: you don’t expect the spectacular eye roll or the exaggerated sigh. “Are you really still upset about that?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Are you really going to pretend it wasn’t a big deal?”

“You can’t deny that things are much improved under my rule.” The way he says this suggests that he’s had a version of this conversation before. “Surely you’ve seen the statistics.”

“I’ve read your propaganda, yes,” you say, idly poking your fork at the fruit on your plate.

He scowls. “It’s not propaganda, it’s verifiable facts—” 

“Conveniently hand-picked by your PR team. That’s kind of telling, if you ask me.”

He takes a deep breath, like he’s about to go into a lengthy monologue that he’s tired of having to recite, but as he looks at your face, his expression slowly changes from annoyed to something more amused. “You’re goading me.”

You shrug. “I’m just calling it as I see it.”

“Lies do not become you, wife.” His expression is sharp, but there’s a hungry kind of approval in his gaze that makes your stomach flip. 

“I rather think you’re enjoying yourself, your majesty.”

You’ve only ever used his title sparingly—it’s his equivalent of calling you “wife” and it’s generally a surefire way to ensure that you end your conversation either underneath or on top of him.

For a moment, it seems like one of those outcomes might be in your immediate future—there’s a familiar glitter of hunger in his eyes as his gaze drops again to your legs. 

He licks his lips. “One of these days, I will put you over my knee and punish you the way that you deserve.”

An electric kind of desire crackles through you as you contemplate the logistics of letting him fuck you on the breakfast table.

“But not today.”

Your gaze snaps immediately to his. He smirks like he knows that you were expecting this conversation to go in a very different direction.

“Today I’d like to propose a little experiment,” he continues.

You regard him warily. “What sort of experiment?”

“As I mentioned earlier, the burden of initiating our physical relations has fallen entirely on me.” He takes a sip of his water. “I am putting that burden on you for today.”

“So, what—we’re not having sex unless I start it?”

“Precisely. And you’re going to have to tell me exactly what you want in order to get it.”

Your heart pounds hard against your ribs, but you try to look completely unaffected as desire and annoyance wage yet another war inside you. “And what if I don’t feel like playing your stupid games?”

“You will.” He says it confidently as he glances at the clock. “I’ve business to attend to.” His smile is entirely too sharp as he rises from his chair. “I trust you’ll keep yourself occupied.”

You bite back a scowl as he leaves you alone with your thoughts and a dull, persistent ache throbbing between your legs.

The trouble is that initiating sex means admitting you want him.

Granted, you have begged for him many times during sex. But it’s one thing to admit that you want him when he’s been edging you for the better part of an hour; it's something else to admit to wanting him without that specific kind of pressure as a motivating factor. It requires acknowledging a vulnerability, something you are all too reluctant to do around Loki.

At first, you think you’ll just give up sex for the day. Worst case scenario: there’s no sex. Slightly better case scenario: he gives in out of sheer desperation and you get to have sex without admitting you want him. The second scenario seems most likely—if you had to pit your sex drive against his, you would wager that his is higher. It’s simple. Easy.

Later, you will acknowledge that this was perhaps slightly delusional on your part.

The fact that you didn’t really take into account is that your body is expecting sex. You’ve been getting it on the daily—often multiple times in one day—since your wedding. It probably should have occurred to you that quitting cold turkey would not go well.

Unfortunately, that seems to be a lesson that the universe is determined to make you learn through experience.

It’s early afternoon when you start to realize that you’re going to need a different plan. The dull ache between your legs has not abated and has instead turned into the kind of specific ache that you know you’re not going to be able to take care of on your own.

And if this were any other time, Loki probably would have already found some way to get you alone and mostly undressed—his ability to pick up on these moods of yours is keen to an inconvenient degree.

But there’s no sign of him today.

You pace your room for a while. The ache between your legs persists and you know if you don’t do something about it, it’s only going to get worse.

A plan slowly emerges in the heady haze of your slowly increasing desire. You could probably goad him into getting you off once or twice—enough to bring your desire to something more manageable. It wouldn’t be the same as sex, so you wouldn’t be admitting to any kind of vulnerability and it would clear your head enough to give you time to figure out the rest of the day.

Later, you will acknowledge that this was a very poorly thought out plan and doomed to failure from the start. Right now, though, it seems like a fine idea.

You put on a dress that you know he likes—a flowing green thing that clings to your breasts and hips in an appealing way. You don’t bother with underwear. 

You’re not quite sure where he’s meeting or who’s in attendance, but that doesn’t worry you too much. You’ve found that your new status means that people don’t often question you, which makes it relatively easy to wander wherever you’d like.

You find him eventually in one of the rooms on the first floor, accompanied by an array of important looking people that you don’t recognize. His gaze finds you almost immediately, though he waits for a break in the conversation to address you.

“Darling, what a surprise.” The glimmer in his eyes tells you it is not at all a surprise.

“Sorry to interrupt.” You give the others an apologetic smile before glancing back at Loki. “I need to speak with you privately when you have a moment.”

“Of course, my love.” His eyes darken just a shade and your cunt pulses in a kind of answer. “Wait for me in the library and I’ll be with you shortly.”

You give him a perfunctory smile and stalk off to the library just a few doors down.

You can feel the slickness building between your legs, the muscles of your cunt flexing and aching in a blend of need and anticipation. There’s a couch by the window—that will suit your purposes well enough. You sit down and wait, fidgeting with the skirt of your dress.

You expect him to draw it out as long as possible, but he must be just as eager as you are because he strolls into the room five minutes later.

“What troubles you, darling?” His voice is gently mocking, his expression infuriatingly smug. He knows exactly why you’re here.

“Shut up,” you say through gritted teeth. “You know why I’m here, so let’s make it quick.”

“Oh, that’s not what we agreed on,” he purrs, eyes darkening with want as he approaches you. “You have to tell me what you want.”

As soon as he’s near enough, you tug him down to the couch and straddle his lap, guiding his hand up your skirt to your bare cunt. “I want you to make me come.”

You’re hoping that your boldness and lack of underwear will throw him off enough that he won’t notice that you’re being intentional with your wording and leaving yourself a very tidy out.

“Oh, darling, you’re soaking.” He drags his fingers along the length of your cunt, carefully circling your clit. “Poor thing, no wonder you’re so needy.” 

You sigh, your hips rolling with his hand. “More.”

“Needy and greedy,” he muses, sliding a finger inside you as his thumb continues working your clit. “I love it when you’re like this.”

He pulls you into a deep kiss, tongue pressing into your mouth, tangling with yours. You moan, rocking your hips against his hand as he slips a second finger inside you.

“You need me, don’t you?” he breathes against your lips. “No one else makes you feel like this. Even when you touch yourself, your fingers can’t quite reach this little spot the way I can.” His fingers curl, pressing hard against that soft, aching spot that has been throbbing all day. You keen, fingernails digging into the leather on his shoulders as your hips grind against his hand. 

“Yes, just like that,” you gasp. 

“You need me so badly that you can’t even manage a full day without my touch.” His thumb presses just a little harder on your clit. “And interrupting a meeting of global importance to beg me to fuck you in the library where anyone might walk in—”

You’re entering the final stretch right before your orgasm and you can tell that it’s going to be good—the pressure inside you is too intense for it not to be. 

And then Loki decides to up the ante.

“It just goes to show how much of a slut you are for my cock.”

It’s like trying to douse a fire with gasoline.

Loki’s fingers curl again and your mouth goes slack as you let out a low whimper. 

“I know that noise.” His smile is hungry. “You’re about to come for me.”

You nod, rolling your hips in time with the wave that’s rising within you.

“Let me hear you.” He leans in and nips sharply at your earlobe. “Scream for me.”

It’s like being hit by a hurricane. You are dimly aware that you’re moaning loud enough to be heard unless he’s been a gentleman and cast a silencing spell on the room, but your capacity to care about anything other than the euphoria flooding your entire nervous system is somewhere below zero.

“Such a good girl,” he purrs, as he works you through it. “So fucking filthy,”

You’d intended to make your exit quickly, but you didn’t bank on how good his fingers would feel or how easily he’d be able to coax you to another orgasm. You claw desperately at his chest, and he gives you a self-satisfied smirk.

“What? Another one so soon?” he says, his brow furrowing in mock concern. “Is your poor little cunt really so needy?”

“Don’t stop.” Your voice comes out in a whine, but you don’t care. You can’t care about anything other than the rising pressure in your hips and the way your clit is thrumming with pleasure.

“Oh, I’m not going to stop until I’ve thoroughly claimed this sweet cunt.”

“Yes. Fuck.” You hold your breath as your orgasm makes its final ascent.

“That’s it.” His eyes are shining. “Come for me.”

The second one hits you just as hard and then blends almost seamlessly into a third that makes stars burst behind your eyelids and your thighs tremble. You lean into him, gasping and panting as he murmurs more filthy praise in your ear.

But you snap back to reality when he reaches for the buttons of your dress. You need to move quickly if you want your plan to work and you know that if he manages to get his cock out, it’s all over for you.

“Shall I take you on the desk?” He slips the first button, staring greedily at the exposed skin. “Or against that window?”

Both options sound too appealing, but you’re not going to tell him that. You reluctantly pull away from him and stand on legs that are much too wobbly. Remember the plan. Focus.

For once in his life, Loki looks a little baffled.

“Well,” you say, making a rather sad attempt to straighten your dress. “Would you look at the time.”

His eyes narrow almost immediately. “What are you playing at?”

“Nothing,” you say brightly. “I just didn’t realize it was so late and I don’t want to keep you from your meeting.”

He catches on right away—you can tell from the glint in his eyes and the slight twitch of his lips. He seems conflicted about how he feels about it, though, which you’re not expecting. There’s annoyance, certainly—that was always a given—but there’s also a kind of hungry delight, almost like you’d surprised him a little.

Almost like he finds it…attractive.

You weren’t expecting that at all.

He stands slowly, his gaze traveling shamelessly up and down your body, bringing still more slickness to your cunt. 

“You may come to regret this little stunt, my love.” His voice is deadly soft and you’re reminded suddenly of a shark considering his prey. “I don’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Perhaps you should have negotiated more favorable terms this morning.” Your voice is calm and cool, but there’s an inferno of desire blazing inside you.

“I think I will particularly enjoy silencing that smart mouth later tonight,” he says, eyeing the open button on your dress.

“If I allow it.” You smile sweetly at him as his expression darkens even further. “After all, you did put that burden on me for today, your majesty. And I did only say that I wanted you to make me come, which you have.”

The look that he gives you is lustful in a way you’ve never seen from him before. Your cunt clenches tightly around nothing and suddenly the relief that you’d just found from his fingers doesn’t seem anywhere near enough.

And if you don’t get out of here soon, your entire plan will go up in flames in favor of riding his cock until you both collapse.

“I’ll take my leave,” you say, buttoning your dress.

His gaze trails possessively over your body. “Yes, you’ll want to rest up—I suspect you’ll be begging me to claim my prize by the time I return to our rooms.”

“We’ll see.” There’s no conviction in your voice and you can tell that he hears it, so you turn quickly on your heel and leave with a mumbled goodbye before he can convince you to change your mind.

This entire episode has given you new insight into why Loki is like this as his default. The control is heady and intoxicating and your head fizzes like you’ve drunk too much champagne. You feel sexy and desirable. Powerful. You think of him quietly stewing away in his meeting downstairs, plagued by thoughts of you and trying to hide it from the others. You think of him storming upstairs, control fraying, his cock rock hard and aching for you. You think about what he’ll do to you as payback for leaving him wanting.

The entire purpose of this exercise was to find an outlet for your arousal and clear your head; instead, you find that you’re hornier than you were before the library.

Your entire plan has failed rather spectacularly, but you can’t convince yourself to be mad about it.

The hours pass slowly. You’re not sure if he’s intentionally delaying his return or if he’s genuinely busy—either way, it does you no favors. You try reading, but you end up rereading the same paragraph and thinking about sex instead of following the story. As afternoon fades into evening, you undress and don a silk robe. The fabric whispers against your skin, only heightening your arousal.

The sun is almost fully set when you hear the door open and the heavy tread of familiar boots on the floor. You stay seated on the couch, staring out the floor to ceiling window, waiting.

“I suppose you think you’re very clever.”

Goosebumps spring up along the column of your spine. His voice is low and stern, his presence already commanding. Slickness floods your cunt in anticipation. You slowly turn to face him, your chin tilted up in slight defiance.

“I consider it appropriate payback for the gala,” you say.

He raises an eyebrow as he continues to walk closer. “And do you recall how hard you came after the gala?”

You mirror his skeptical expression. “Then wouldn’t I be doing you a favor by teasing you like this if it means you come harder later?”

The look he gives you is intoxicating. “You are disobedient and impertinent.”

You smirk. “And you love it.”

“Not as much as I love putting you back in line.”

You stand and walk toward him, stopping a few inches away. “Then why don’t you?”

He chuckles low in his throat. “You know that’s not what we agreed to, my love. The move is yours.”

Privately, you’re delighted that he seems prepared to continue to play the game. 

“I didn’t take you to be so passive,” —you pause and lick your lips— “your majesty.”

Perhaps more extraordinary than the fire in his eyes is his stillness—save for the tight clench of his jaw and his sharp intake of breath, he is completely motionless as his eyes tell the story of a man who is barely holding himself back from his greatest desire.

“I’m a man of my word,” he says, finally.

You huff out a soft laugh. “Are you?” You lick your lips. “Perhaps I should test that.”

You pull the sash of your robe and let it fall from your shoulders to your feet in a heap. You stand in front of him, completely naked. His eyes devour you and his fingers flex against his thighs like he’s barely holding back from touching you.

“Still a man of your word?” you ask, your eyes wide and innocent.

The muscle in his jaw twitches. “Yes.”

You nod thoughtfully. “I see.”

And then you slowly sink to your knees.

You look up at him with wide eyes. “What about now?”

“Yes.” There’s a dark rasp in his voice and his fingers are tensed like claws against his thighs.

You’re getting to him. You love it.

You take your time undoing his trousers, letting your fingers graze against the hard length of his erection whenever the opportunity presents itself. You almost feel a little bad when you finally free his cock—he is desperately hard, the flushed and engorged tip already slick with precome.

“Oh, have you been like this all afternoon?” you say casually. “Poor thing.”

“Watch your tone,” he says sharply.

“I suppose that was rather inconsiderate of me to just leave you like that,” you muse, taking his cock in your hand and reveling in his sharp exhale and the way he throbs hot and hard as you begin to stroke him. “I didn’t realize you’d be so hard.”

“You are playing with fire, my love.” His voice is rough and husky with wanting.

“I don’t think it’s wrong to make you work for it.”

“You would dare to give orders to a king?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Am I not your queen?”

“My queen does not command me.”

Early on, you might have been intimidated by the hunger in his eyes and the sternness in his voice, but now you can’t help but find it arousing. Somewhere along the way, pushing him to his limit became like a drug and now you can’t get enough.

“And why not, your majesty?” you say, gently squeezing his shaft as you stroke him. “You tease me like this all the time. Isn't it only fair for me to have a turn?”

“I don’t need to justify myself. I’m king.” He says this with authority, but you can tell he’s fighting to keep his expression neutral. There’s a catch in his voice and his eyes flutter shut for a moment as his hips rock into your hand.

You look up at him again. “Perhaps you ought to,” you say. “Seeing as I’m currently holding your fate in my hands.”

He gives you a smirk that is entirely too confident for your liking. “I think you’re underestimating my resilience.”

You bring your lips up to the head of his cock, letting the very tip of your tongue brush against it. He inhales sharply.

“Am I?” you say, punctuating the question with a second featherlight kiss against his cock. “I’m not sure that you’ve considered all the tools I have at my disposal.”

He stares down at you imperiously and you return his look with wide, innocent eyes as you part your lips and take him into your mouth, slowly swirling your tongue around the head of his cock in a way that you know he enjoys. His fingers flex against his thighs and you hum as the sharp taste of his precome glides over your tongue.

“You are a wicked, disobedient tease,” he growls, one hand sliding down to cradle the back of your head. “And you don’t even care, do you? You just want to get those pretty lips around my cock.”

You draw back slightly to look up at him. “You could stand to be more flattering if you want me to let you come in my mouth.”

He chuckles, eyes darkening with want. “Is it not flattering to say that your mouth makes me forget myself?”

You press a kiss to the tip of his cock, letting your tongue flick against it, but not quite bringing him back into your mouth. “It’s a start.”

“You don’t know what effect you have on me, do you?” His hand strokes your cheek as you continue lazily kissing his cock.

“You certainly do your best to act annoyed with me.”

He laughs, a low, throaty sound. “Oh, half the fun of these little games are your attempts to outwit me. Chaos and schemes only add to my power, but when you are the perpetrator?” He gives you a long, hungry look. “That makes me rock hard.”

Your breath catches slightly as you stroke your tongue over the tip of his cock. “Keep talking.”

“I spent the rest of that meeting driven to utter distraction because I could not stop thinking about how good it was going to feel to sink my cock into your dripping cunt.”

You gently suck the tip of his cock into your mouth and release it. 

“And then I come back here and you mouth off at me, strip, and get on your knees to suck my cock.” He hisses slightly as you tease the head of his cock with the very tip of your tongue.

“Are you going to beg for me, Loki?” You press a soft kiss against his cock.

“A god doesn’t beg,” he says hoarsely. 

“But you could,” you say softly, teasing the tip of his cock again.

“You may force me to reconsider that notion, yes.”

“Do you want me to suck your cock, Loki?” you ask in that same soft voice. “Do you want to come in my mouth?”

There’s a beat of silence. “Yes.”

You intended to hold out for longer, but you didn’t expect him to say…well, any of that, really. And the other, less convenient reality is that your ability to deny yourself the pleasure of his body and touch is eroding well past the point of resistance. You’ve waited long enough. You want him.

You take his cock fully into your mouth and begin to move.

Loki groans, his eyes half lidded and lips parted as he looks down at you. “Fuck, you’re divine. I’m going to worship your cunt after this.”

You moan on his cock, widening your legs slightly. You slip your fingers between your legs, letting your index finger roll against your aching clit.

Loki stares down at you with a renewed hunger. “Are you touching yourself?”

You moan an affirmative, your fingers moving faster on your clit as you suck harder on his cock.

“Filthy girl.” His hand grips the back of your head, his hips jerking slightly. “After this, I’m going to make you come harder than you did after the gala. I’m going to make you come so hard you forget your own name.”

You moan again on his cock, flicking your tongue over the tip on every upstroke, making his grip on your head tighten. Your jaw starts to ache after a few minutes, but the little noises he’s making are so worth it. Your cunt keeps getting slicker and slicker under your fingers and you feel yourself starting to edge closer to your own end.

“Fuck.” Loki is panting, his composure completely lost. “If you keep—fuck—I’m so fucking close—”

You could be cruel and make him wait, but he’s so beautiful with his head thrown back and his green eyes fluttering shut against the wave of pleasure you’re building for him that you can’t help but want to give him everything. You hollow your cheeks and take him as deep as you can.

His hand tightens against your scalp and he groans deeply as his hot release fills your mouth. You swallow it greedily, slowing to a halt.

The moment you take your mouth off his cock, he’s pulling you to your feet and holding you flush against him, his mouth covering yours in a deep and slow kiss.

Something about kissing him seems to emphasize the building need of your own body. “Fuck me, Loki.” You breathe your plea against his lips, twining your fingers in his hair. “I need you.”

To his credit, he only smirks a little before sweeping you into his arms and carrying you purposefully toward the bed.

He sets you down on the bed and you expect him to follow you immediately, pressing his body against yours. Instead, invisible bonds curl around your wrists and ankles, gently tugging until you’re spread eagled on the bed. You barely repress a shiver as he kneels next to you. He means business and historically, that’s always ended quite well for you.

There’s a flash of green and a slim vibrator materializes in his hands. He runs the head of it gently along your exposed cunt, pausing just above your clit.

And it’s not until you feel the same invisible bonds wind around your hips to hold the vibrator in place that you realize that this is not going the way you thought.

As though he can read your thoughts, Loki glances at the clock. “Oh, dear, is that really the time?” he says lazily, his mouth curling into a sly smile.

“You wouldn’t,” you say, your heart pounding hard because of course he would.

“I’m afraid I can’t miss this meeting. Shouldn’t be more than an hour, though.”

“Loki—”

He clicks his fingers and the vibrator hums to life, close enough to your clit to stoke the flames of desire, but not close or strong enough to get you over the edge.

“I hate you,” you groan, rocking your hips up, searching for relief. “You are the worst.”

“Oh, I certainly hope your attitude improves by the time I return,” he tuts as he tucks his cock back into his trousers. “It’d be a shame if you had to wait even longer.”

“You said you liked it when I tried to outwit you.”

He chuckles, leaning in close enough to kiss you. “I do. I like seeing how clever you are and I love carrying out consequences.”

You scowl. “You’re awful.”

He smirks and kisses you, drawing back before you can try to pull him deeper. “Be good. I’ve heard that good things come to those who wait.”

“Loki—”

He casts one last smug look at you before turning on his heel and leaving the room.

He’s gone for a little over an hour, but it feels like an eternity.

The vibrator is enough to keep you wet and aching, but not enough to get you off. The bonds are comfortable, but there doesn’t seem to be any give that would allow you to wiggle out or adjust the vibrator, no matter how much you writhe against the mattress. Sometimes, the intensity seems to increase just slightly and you thrust your hips forward, trying to get more, only to have it diminish just as quickly.

It’s agonizing, certainly, but you know that the payoff is going to be nothing short of spectacular. And privately…you kind of like it, though you’ll never admit that to him.

You’re not quite sure if you should act relieved or annoyed when Loki returns, so you end up settling on a strange combination of both when the door finally clicks open and he walks in smirking.

“Well,” he says far too brightly for your liking, “have you learned your lesson?”  

“Yeah, to check your schedule before I try something like that again,” you say before you can really think it through.

He tuts, lips pursing as he frowns. “Ooh, there’s that attitude again. Shall I leave you for another hour?”

You shut your mouth and look away, not quite able to hide your scowl. “No.”

He chuckles. “I thought so.”

He sits down on the bed next to you and runs his fingers along your cunt, his smile turning wicked.  “I see that you enjoyed the little toy. You’re so much wetter than when I left you.”

Your scowl deepens. “Because you’ve been teasing me for an hour!”

“Teasing you?” He scoffs. “Nonsense. I left it running for an hour, you should be quite satisfied.”

“You know full well that you left it on the lowest speed and barely touching my clit.”

His eyes glimmer in the way that they often do when you've strolled right into his trap. “Ah, I see. So you needed something a little more like this.”

He places the vibrator firmly against your clit and the faint hum suddenly accelerates to a steady, throbbing pulse that immediately draws a strangled moan from your throat.

“And perhaps a little of this—” He slides two fingers inside of you and your eyes roll to the back of your head at the intense sensation.

“Oh fuck.” Any notion you had of acting aloof and cool has evaporated. Your body warms to him too quickly, too naturally. A casual stroke of his fingers has you arching into his touch, a whimper trapped in your throat.

“Oh dear,” he says, almost nonchalantly. “You seem to be reacting quite strongly. Are you sure I should continue?”

“Please don’t stop.” You say it all in a rush, like it’s one long word.

“Don’t stop?”

“Don’t stop. Please.” You whimper, your hips rolling so that your clit rubs right against the vibrator. Loki’s fingers curl and you arch as something completely unintelligible comes out of your mouth.

“You need this. You’ve needed this all day.” His eyes shine as his fingers thrust faster. “But not as much as you need my cock. You’re desperate for my cock.”

You nod, half lost to pleasure.

“You’ve been such a tease. Such a fucking brat.” The vibrator’s speed increases and you whine. “I ought to punish you, remind you who’s in charge. Make you get on your knees and beg and still leave you wanting for release.”

You whimper, now so deliciously close that you’re starting to shake.

“Luckily for you,” he says, “I have been thinking of you coming all over my cock for hours. So instead of leaving you wanting, I’m going to fuck you until you’ve milked every drop from my cock and you’re going to take it all like a good girl.” His eyes darken. “Now come for me before I change my mind.”

You don’t need to be told twice—you barely need to be told once. The muscles of your cunt flutter against his thrusting fingers and then your orgasm unfurls.

It’s spectacular, setting off a chain reaction of pleasure on every nerve ending, your body shaking as you cry out.

“There you go.” His gaze is hungry, roving over your body, the god of your undoing. He presses the vibrator just a little harder against your clit and you feel that familiar ache stir again just below your belly.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe.

“You’re going to come again, aren’t you?” He’s smirking, but there’s a flicker of awe in his expression, like he can’t quite believe his luck. “Once wasn’t enough for you. You need to come again like the greedy little slut that you are.”

The sparks inside you are fluttering and flickering again, until they catch and send you soaring back into the stratosphere. Your back bows and you cry out as you come.

You’re still shaking when he crawls between your legs moments later, peppering your thighs with messy kisses and spreading your cunt open. The bonds on your wrists and ankles release the moment his mouth touches your cunt and you bury your hands in his hair. You moan as he circles and sucks at your clit and his fingers thrust inside of you.

You look at him nestled between your legs, eyes glazed with desire and it almost sends you over the edge. 

“God, I love your mouth,” you blurt out before you can think about it. “You’re so good at this, it feels so fucking good—”

You’re not sure if it’s the praise or his talent, but the moment you say that, your orgasm begins to crest.

“Fuck, Loki. Fuck, I’m gonna—oh fuck.”

It bursts like a firework and courses through your body like liquid gold, somehow simultaneously frantic and leisurely. You’re dimly aware that you’re moaning with every shuddering roll of your body, praising his mouth and tongue in a way that you know will embarrass you later.

“I told you it would be worth it,” he says after he coaxes the last shudder from you a few minutes later. “I don’t think I’ve heard you scream like that before.”

You don’t even bother opening your eyes. “Bragging is an unattractive quality.”

He tuts. “There’s that attitude again. You know, you’re lucky I didn’t deny you after all your teasing and backtalk.”

You look up at him, eyes hazy. “You like making me come too much to follow through on that.”

He chuckles darkly. “That mouth is going to get you in trouble, wife.”

Sated as you are, the name still lights that spark in your belly. “If you say so, your majesty.”

Within seconds, he’s on you, mouth plundering yours. Your hands fumble with the buckles and clasps on his clothes.

“Help me out,” you say, shoving his surcoat off his shoulders. 

“What was it you said earlier?” He smirks and rolls you both over so he’s on his back. “Ah, yes: work for it.”

You scowl and tug at the fabric. You could just undo his belt and take out his cock, but it’s not enough. You need to feel all of him, need the heat of his skin on yours as he presses inside you.

“You are such an ass.” You yank his shirt over his head.

He laughs. “You want me so badly, you’re shaking.”

He’s right, but you’re not going to concede it. “You want me just as bad. You’ve been holding back from me all day and you can’t stand it. You're desperate to be inside me.

His gaze darkens, but he flicks his wrist and you feel the fabric vanish beneath you.

“Well played, wife,” he says, propping himself up against the headboard. “Now ride me and show me why you deserve to come on my cock.”

You straddle his lap, guiding him to your entrance. “Oh, stop it. We both know you fucking love it when I come on your cock.”

You sink down on him and you both groan. After an extended day of teasing and delays, he cock feels like it’s pressing against every aching part inside of you, soothing a need you’ve felt all day. He nuzzles his face against your neck, nipping at the tender skin of your pulse point. His hands map the expanse of your back and skim down your hips to squeeze your ass.

His hips rock incrementally against you. He wants you to move, to fuck him, and for a moment, you feel drunk on the power.

You brace your hands on his shoulders and raise yourself up on his cock before sinking back down. Your pace is glacial, designed to tease, to drive him wild.

But on the third stroke, he smacks your ass, eyes blazing. “I said ride me.”

It sets off something inside you and you increase your pace before you can second guess it. You catch a glimpse of a feral smile before he pulls you into a rough kiss as you sink back down on him. Your teeth bump against his and you nip hard at his lower lip, which only seems to egg him on.

You’re supposed to be riding him, but his hips are driving up into you just as hard, his firm grip urging you on. Your head tips back as the pressure inside you continues to build. His head dips to your neck, teeth scraping along your collarbone and then down to your breast. He laves his tongue over your nipple and it plucks at the winding coil of pleasure in your hips, your cunt squeezing tighter and tighter on his cock. You whimper and he takes the bud of your nipple between his teeth and tugs ever so slightly.

Your cunt clenches as you creep closer to the edge. He lets out a sharp breath through his teeth as he starts approaching his own end.

“Fuck—”

With a snarl, he flips you to your back in one fluid motion, draping your legs over his broad shoulders. His pace turns rough and a little frantic but he’s hitting a spot that makes your toes curl and your pleas turn even more desperate.

“Fuck—please, please, please—”

His eyes are wild. “Show me what I’ve been missing all day. Let me feel you come. Soak my cock like a good girl.”

His fingers find your clit and suddenly, the rising sensation within you is blossoming into something more akin to a supernova. His hips snap hard against you and the feeling inside you swells and then shatters.

You are vaguely aware that you’re shouting his name as you quake in his arms and your cunt clenches around his cock. Loki moans above you, his jaw going slack and his brow furrowing, his pace slowing slightly like he’s trying to hold back, trying to make it last.

But another wave rolls through you and he shudders and before you can think about it, you’re slipping your legs off his shoulders and around his waist so you can pull him close.

“Come for me.” You whisper it like it’s a secret and he kisses you like he hears. His hips snap hard against you and then he’s kissing you in between Asgardian words you don’t recognize and words that might be your name until it all dissolves into a long groan that he breathes against your lips as he comes so hard that he shakes.

It’s a long moment before he finally eases out and tonight he gives you a long and lingering kiss before he does. Your legs shake as you lie panting on the bed, listening to him shuffle around the room. He must be getting ready for bed. 

You always hate this part. It’s not that you expect or even want affection from him, but sometimes it seems so…businesslike, so transactional. Surely it’s not strange to wish it could be something more, even though it can’t be.

“Sit up.”

You turn your head to look at him, fully prepared to lay into him for telling you what to do, but instead, you find him standing at the side of the bed with a full glass of water.

Something inside you softens just a little. 

“Oh, I’m okay,” you say. “It was just really intense.”

He gives you a dry look. “Humor me.”

Any other time, you might have shot back a sarcastic reply, but there’s something strangely disarming about seeing him standing there buck naked and offering you water. And maybe that little ache of loneliness you felt earlier has made you a little soft. 

You sit up and take the glass from him. “Thanks.”

He sits down next to you on the edge of the bed. “I’ve sent for dinner as well,” he says, absently tracing a finger along your spine. “It’s quite late.”

You take a sip of water. “Do I have to get out of bed for it?”

“So long as you keep the crumbs to your side.”

You wave your hand at him. “You can magic them away.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not a circus pony.”

You give him a dry look. “What’s the point of having magic if you can’t use it to spoil your wife?”

He chuckles and presses a kiss against your shoulder. “Have I not spoiled you enough already today?”

“That stunt with the vibrator was pretty rude.”

He scoffs. “No more rude than getting off on my fingers and leaving me in a meeting for four hours.”

You lean against him and he drapes an arm around your waist. “You of all people should know that turnabout is fair play.”

You’re teasing each other, you realize. It strikes you as a quaintly domestic scene—a couple tangled up together and talking after sex. It’s…kind of nice, in an odd way. 

Almost normal.

Much later, when he’s curled up behind you in bed and the lights are out, he asks a question that you suspect has been on his mind all evening: “What did you think of our experiment?”

You know there’s a reason why he waited until now to ask you this. You can hear it in the careful way he’s asking, how he’s trying to hide that little note of hope.

The urge to be sarcastic or sharp is suspiciously absent.

“Well,” you say, letting the word hang there in the dark for just a moment. “My legs still feel like jello. Kind of hard to argue with those results.”

It’s only when you feel him relax that you realize he was bracing himself for something sharper. The thought stops you. You’d never thought anything you said mattered to him like that.

“Perhaps it’s an experiment we ought to repeat.” He says it casually, but there’s a subtle note of hope that sparks a strange feeling of sympathy.

You nod before you can talk yourself out of it. “Yeah.” The silence prickles at you in a way it never has before. “Maybe Tuesdays, if that works?”

He’s trying to hide it, but you can hear the smile in his voice. “As her majesty commands.”

Next chapter coming soon

[adoresia]

꣑ৎ contains ★ Fluff ft Satoru Gojo :: dad gojo , domestic fluff , comfort moments , gojo is acting like a man child , light humour . W/C ★ 0.4k

˙🧷 ̟ Sia here ! :: Based off of this request from @alixezae !! Sorry for the long wait 😣 Had to put these in queued order because tumblr hates me apparently but I could never forget thank you very much for the request 😋😋😋 also not really a part two of morning monologue but still.

˙🏷️ ̟ Satoru’s masterlist | JJK masterlist | Main masterlist

Satoru was sat on the couch, his baby nestled against his chest, small fists clinging to his shirt. His normally smug grin was nowhere to be found — replaced instead with a dramatic pout as he watched you move around the room, effortlessly drawing the baby’s attention without even trying. You must be wondering how we got here.

It had been weeks since he’d noticed the shift. At first he thought of it as a silly coincidence. Babies went through phases right? But this definitely was not a phase. Your baby loved you in a way that made him feel like he wasn’t even there, you could say. It left THE Gojo satoru — the most charismatic person in existence — relegated to the sidelines.

He tried everything. From silly faces to floating toys. Peekaboo could only go so far — nothing seemed to work. His precious baby would giggle politely and act humoured for a few seconds, but then immediately looked out for you again.

It was funny at first but now it’s humiliating, Satoru would say its not fair how much his baby gave you so much attention so much that eventually it made you wonder if you gave birth to two big babies instead of just one.

“You’ve bewitched him,” he muttered, his voice low and accusatory. You glanced over your shoulder, brow raised. “Satoru- What are you talking about?”

“Satoru junior,” he gestured dramatically to the tiny bundle on his chest “We were supposed to be each others number one fan. But he treats me like some guy at the park trying to lure little kids into the back of his van with dorritos.”

“Firstly, I dont remember agreeing on such a name. Secondly, You kinda do” you teased, leaning down to press a kiss to your baby’s head. “But I guess he just loves me more.”

Your baby babbled in agreement.

Satoru groaned flopping back onto the couch like the weight of the world had just crushed him. “This is betrayal on the highest level.”

Before you could respond your baby stirred, letting out a soft — sleepy whimper. And without missing a beat, Gojo shifted them against his shoulder while his hand instinctively pat his back in gentle, rhythmic motions.

You watched as the tension melted from his face, replaced by something softer and more genuine. Your little baby’s tiny hand clung to his shirt, his breathing evened out as he drifted back to sleep.

Satoru looked up at you, his expression smug once more. “See? I’ve still got it.”

“That was a pity nap,” you said grinning.

“Stop trying to steal my credit,” he huffed.

And as your baby nestled closer to him, Gojo decided that maybe being second place wasn’t so bad — especially when it came with moments like these.

[thottieonline]

PENN’S HOTTEST VIRGIN

LUIGI MANGIONE X VIRGIN! FEM READER

IN WHICH — Reader goes to her first Frat Party at Phi Kappa Psi, partying with Frat President Luigi Mangione.

WARNINGS — SMUT!! Porn with a Plot! Minors DNI!

CONTAINS — Loss of Virginity (Duh), Religious themes, PinV! Oral (Fem! Receiving), Praise! Blasphemy — we knew it was coming. Reader wears glasses (a bit self indulgent, lol)

NOTES — So. Much. Dirty. Talk. Luigi’s a little rough but we love it! Like this is just straight PORN I’m so sorry!! Anyways, this is my first smut on Tumblr, so excited to be here!

To Y/N, it seemed that it was a social norm to have had sexual experiences or have been in a relationship, especially by your second year in one of the biggest party schools in the country — So how was it possible someone as beautiful as Y/N could remain untouched?

She knew her male peers gawked at her and shamelessly spoke about her whenever she walked by, often hearing the things they wanted to do to her in passing, ultimately sending shivers down her spine.

She was innocent, not stupid.

Considering she came from a family devoted to their Catholic faith, they had tried their best to shield her from a life of “sin.” However, as she grew older, she started to question her religion.

Would I really go to hell for doing this? If I wasn’t meant to be doing this, why does it feel so good?

Those questions eventually lead her to make more impulsive decisions. After all, you’re only twenty in one of the biggest party schools once.

Ask for forgiveness, not permission — The voice of her roommate Blair spoke into her head. Blair being her voice of unreason, she encouraged her to be more wild, thus leading to them getting ready for a frat party at one a.m on a Tuesday.

“B, you still haven’t told me what frat we’re going to.” Y/N yelled over Blair’s loud music, Blair only sparing a glance at her and refocused on her hair. “We’re going to Kappa.”

Phi Kappa Psi was one of UPenn’s biggest frat houses, gaining a reputation for throwing the wildest parties on campus, competing with other frat houses on who could garner the most attention, in-campus and off-campus.

Other Fraternities pale in comparison to Phi Kappa as they miss one important element — Luigi Mangione.

Luigi Mangione managed to make a name for himself as a fourth year student, making a lasting impression on his fellow peers and professors. Being exceptionally gifted in Computer Science, Robotics, and Charisma — Mangione had the respect of everyone around him in the palm of his hand.

Mangione being five-foot-eleven, athletic and intelligent with unruly curly hair and a smile to die for — It was simple, really. Every man wanted to be him, while every girl prayed for the opportunity to be the next one he took to bed.

She was no exception — though she never voiced her desires out loud. Y/N often imagined his lips trailing down her neck, his lips creating a suction on her sensitive skin, sucking on her vanilla lotioned skin to the point of bruising.

God only knew how much she wanted to be marked up by him. Her virgin mind constantly thought about sex, but she couldn’t think about anyone else but him. No one else had her attention like he did and that was exactly how she liked it.

She only thought about Luigi fucking her to the point where she cried, her pussy being used and overfilled with his cum. She’d imagine him continuing to fuck her after she lost count of how many times she came, the glasses she normally wore on her face were nowhere to be found.

Y/N imagined Luigi calling her his perfect slut, praising her ability to take all of him like a champ.

“God it’s like this pussy was made for me. Tell me, how good do I fuck you, baby?”

“Such a good fucking slut for me, N/N.”

“You’re so fucking pretty, baby. Let me see you.”

Just the thought of him made her thighs clench together. Luigi was the only one she would ever let fuck raw. She needed to feel all of him, every inch and every vein of his Italian cock. She wanted Luigi to ruin her for other men, fucking her so good to the point all she can remember is his name.

It’d be even better for her to wake up to such a deliciously painful reminder of him when she’s hardly able to walk the next morning.

“Okay, I’m done.” Blair spoke, quickly snapping Y/N back to reality. She looked at her roommate, seeing she had finished getting ready for the night.

Since it was a frat party, Y/N and Blair were dressed in simple yet sexy outfits— Y/N opting for a black tank top, pairing them with denim shorts that were tight on her ass and her beat up sneakers.

She’d done her hair hours ago, opting to go straight, putting her trust onto the anti-humidity products she put in her hair to last all night.

“Bitch you look so good.” She smiled, Blair giving her a full 360 of her outfit. “Thank you, baby.” Blair smiled at her compliment.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to get fucked tonight, looking all sexy.” Blair teased, making Y/N roll her eyes, fighting back a smile.

“So what if I am?” She challenged, half-jokingly.

Blair squealed, “She’s finally coming out of her shell! Took almost two years but we’re here.” She quickly wrapped her arms around Y/N. “C’mon, let’s get you fucked up tonight!”

Before she knew it, Y/N had stepped foot onto Kappa grounds, already trashed with red solo cups and a couple of passed out partygoers on the front yard — It looked like a scene straight out of Project X.

Careful to not step on those passed out on the grass, Y/N and Blair made it to the front door, pathetically guarded by one of the seemingly drunk pledges. “Damn, looking good mamis.”

The two giggled at the slurred voice of the young man, “You two on the list?” He asked. Before Y/N could open her mouth, Blair already began talking to him.

“Not really, but I think you can make an exception for tonight?” Blair flirted, placing her manicured hand on his bicep, giving the young man false hope of something happening later on.

“Fuck,” He uttered under his breath. “Yeah, you two can come in. Enjoy, ladies.” He stepped out of the way, letting Y/N and Blair come through.

“You gotta teach me how to do that.” Y/N chuckled. “It was like you didn’t have to try at all.”

“Y/N, please, you can totally do that. You just overthink things too much. You didn’t see how he was looking at you at the door?” Blair chuckled. “Now, let’s get you some liquid courage — God knows how much you need it.”

With that, Blair took Y/N’s hand and led her to the dining room, where the infamous Kappa jungle juice was placed. Blair poured herself and Y/N a full cup — the combination of the sweet cranberry juice and the unforgiving strong scent of liquor nearly sent her to a drunken state.

Out of habit, she did a silent prayer before she downed her drink.

“Fuck, that’s strong.” She groaned to herself, the bitter taste of the liquor lingering on her tongue. Y/N pushed herself to drink more — It wouldn’t be a complete first frat party experience without getting shitfaced drunk.

Blair giggled at the sight, “I’ll be right back, N/N. Stay here, ‘Kay?”

“Mhm.” Y/N hummed, acknowledging her. She continued to drink, silently praying once more to get her through the unforgiving taste of the drink in her cup.

God, if you let me get through this, I promise you—

“Yeah, I’d say the prayer is totally necessary.” A deep voice spoke close to her, interrupting her moment with the man upstairs. Y/N turned her head to the side out of curiosity and there he stood less than a foot away — Luigi fucking Mangione smirking at her.

“Say, were you also raised catholic or was that for dramatics?” He teased, making her blush as she looked down at her feet before looking up at him again.

“Definitely both.” Y/N laughed, her free hand playing with her gold cross necklace that laid nicely on her chest.

Luigi’s gaze flickering from her eyes onto her necklace. He admired how the gold cross complimented her glistened skin. The last piece of Y/N’s devotion to God contrasting with the less-than-holy outfit she had on drove him insane.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.” She spoke, the liquor giving her the courage to introduce herself — something she could’ve never imagined doing stone cold sober. The sound of her voice made him flicker his gaze from her chest onto her eyes, decorated with her signature frames.

He smirked to himself before telling her — “I know who you are, pretty. I’m just surprised to see you here, that’s all.” With that, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her body closer to his, her heart racing faster with just a simple touch.

“You do?” She questioned.

Mangione was two years above her and to the best of her knowledge, they didn’t have any classes together. It was a really big school, after all.

“You don’t know?” He asks, taking in how her eyes glimmered with curiosity as she shook her head. “You’ve seriously never seen the Penn Crush page on Facebook?”

“You know, I don’t really use Facebook like that — So, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.” She smiles, watching him pull out his phone to look up the infamous Penn Crushes page on his screen.

A few seconds pass by and there she was — Y/N L/N all in her glory. She scrolled through his screen, seeing the countless pictures taken of random students that deemed was submitted to the page — yet a lot of those pictures were of her.

There was one picture of her taken from afar where she sat on a random bench, presumably waiting for her next class, and there was another one that she recalled Blair taking a picture and uploaded on her Instagram story. It must’ve been screenshot and submitted as she saw the amount of likes on the post.

She continued to scroll until she saw one post where the caption immediately grabbed her attention —

Penn’s Hottest Virgin, Y/N L/N in a throwback post with the Penn Catholic Service Association. It’s great knowing she’s kept her promise! #virginityrocks

“Oh My God.” Y/N laughs at the post. She recalled joining PCSA when she first came to the school to have an outlet where she could be with others like herself.

She’d thought it’d be a good way to stay connected to her religion while forming new friendships, becoming a dedicated member of the association and getting involved with her community.

Y/N recalled the event from the post as she had to prepare a speech on why it was important to her to keep her promise to God to maintain her purity. At the time, she didn’t mind that people knew if she was a virgin — It was the whole point of the speech!

However, as time passed on and she had since left the association, it was definitely something that she wouldn’t have shared now, nearly two years later.

She read through the comments, barely processing the countless amounts of praise she received unbeknownst to her. “I didn’t think I was on anyone’s radar,” She joked, “Especially as the hottest virgin.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely a fan favorite.” He told her, not before he pulled her impossibly closer. “Have you kept your promise?” He teased, seeing the almost immediate effect he had on her.

She didn’t know if it was the combination of the crowded room they were in with the liquor or the fact that Mangione’s lips were on her ear, asking a question that sounded so innocent, yet so filthy.

The heat rising in her body was getting too much. Y/N felt his hazel eyes following her every move, from the way she subtly pushes up her glasses to the way she clenches her thighs together to relieve the ache in between her legs.

“Yes, sir.” She smiled at him, “But, I think I wanna break it.”

“You do?” He cooed, tucking her hair behind her ear. Luigi knew she wanted him as bad as he did, but he needed those words to come out of her mouth.

She bit her lip, holding back her words for the last time. “I want you to take my virginity.”

With that, he put down his cup on the remaining space on the counter, taking her hand in his and leading her up to his room.

The hallways were completely closed off. It was quiet, a complete one-eighty of the chaos that ensued everywhere else. Luigi unlocked his room, holding the door open for her as she entered what she would describe as the closest thing to heaven.

Y/N turned around to see him close the door and without hesitation, he pulled her by her waist and placed his soft, plump lips onto hers, starting her off slow and sensual — It was the perfect first kiss, she thought, but she knew the slow pace wasn’t going to be enough.

She wanted him so fucking bad, wanting to prove to him that she could take it like the good fucking girl she is. She’d been waiting for him all this time and she couldn’t let it go to waste. Y/N pulled him impossibly closer to her as she began to channel her insatiable desire for him, Mangione following suit.

His hands trailed from her waist and latched onto her hips, fueled by desire as he backed her onto his mattress, their bodies creating a soft thud on the bed. Never breaking the kiss, Luigi ground himself onto her denim shorts, making her moan into the kiss.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” She whimpered, breaking away from their kiss. He was orally fixated on her, his lips continuing their delicious assault on her sensitive skin.

“Gonna mark you up real nice, baby.” He uttered, eliciting a moan from her in response. “You like that, hm? You wanna be marked up by me?”

“So fucking bad.” He smirked at her confession, placing his lips back onto her neck and trailed down to her belly button. His strong hands roughly pulled down her denim shorts, Y/N’s body clad with her tank top and her soaked white thong.

The cool air in his bedroom didn’t help relieve the ache in between her thighs, needing him more than ever. “Bow on your panties? How cute.” He teased, pushing her panties to the side as he licked a bold stripe on her slit.

Her hips jolted at the newfound sensation, Mangione smiling at her reaction. His hands gripped onto her hips as he continued to use his tongue on her relentlessly, needing her to get himself drunk. Luigi couldn’t help himself but gather every last drop of her juices on his tongue, tasting her virginal pussy.

A string of sounds escaped her mouth as his tongue continued to work through her folds, circling his tongue around her clit before sucking on it. Her knees buckled at the suction of his lips.

“Fuck, L-Luigi.” She whimpered.

It was all happening so fast, her mind in a haze as Luigi held her up, throwing one of her legs over his shoulder as he continued to give his all, devouring her as if she was his last meal.

He had love for the game, so determined to make her first time worth it — wanting her to scream his name loud enough so everyone could know he was the first one to fuck Penn’s Hottest Virgin.

“Say it louder, baby. Need everyone to hear you.” He heaved, replacing his mouth with his long, skilled fingers.

She cried in pleasure as his two fingers stretched her out like no other, his digits pressing right up against that spot deep inside her that she could never reach on her own. Her glasses had slipped off her face, laid somewhere on his mattress.

It would’ve frustrated her to not be able to see, but with how good he’d been giving it to her, her eyes had stayed shut, the poor girl only being able to keep them open for only a few seconds until the next wave of pleasure.

“Put them back on for me, baby — Please.” He pleaded, loving how her glasses decorated her face. That was her signature, she’d never been without her glasses since the first time he saw her.

She reached out for her glasses, feeling the hard plastic beside her, putting them back on her beautiful face.

“Did so fucking good baby, listening to me.” He praises her, taking out his fingers and putting his mouth back on her needy pussy.

Y/N was so fucking close, her legs shaking around him as he devours until there’s nothing left — Luigi drinking up all her juices as they spread from her pussy to her thighs and undoubtedly his bedsheets.

Mangione had taken everything from her at that moment — her body, mind and voice. It was all too much, her needy hands reached into his bed of curls, gripping onto them as she buried him impossibly deeper between her thighs.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck Lui, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonn-” She cried out, tears running down her face as his name rolled off her tongue, his name being said so many times as if it were a prayer.

It was so sinful, so sexy, and he loved it.

“Cum on it, baby.” He urged, his tongue desperate for another taste. Luigi had been hooked from the first drop and had a craving for more. His tongue trailed from her hole onto the top of her folds, swallowing the remaining juices on her pussy.

“You taste so fucking good.” He praised, kissing her right inner thigh. Luigi could spend his entire life reliving this moment, worshipping her body.

Her body was in a near paralyzed state, the only signs of her liveliness was her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. Her glasses were now sitting at the tip of her nose, making her look so much sexier to him.

Luigi tried to fight back his infamous shit-eating smirk, but it was no use. He smiled proudly, showcasing the infamous fangs that everyone had been obsessed with, Y/N included.

Seeing those fangs reignited the fire in her body, needing to feel him again. Y/N lifted herself up and got on her fours, crawling to the edge of the bed where he remained kneeled.

There was nothing else on her mind but him. She wanted him to ruin her so fucking badly and so did he. His hazel eyes were clouded with lust as were hers. His dick was uncomfortably strained against his shorts, begging to be inside her virgin pussy.

Mangione leaned closer, his hands gently grab on to her face as he brings her closer to his face, closing the gap between them.

He held her face as their lips moved in sync, much hungrier than before, Y/N tasting the combination of the sweet jungle juice and herself on his tongue. Her hands trailed down his toned body, feeling his hard cock on the palm of her hand.

“Not sure if all of that is gonna fit inside me, Lui.” She joked, as she pulled away from the kiss, gently squeezing his bulge. It felt so fucking good under her hand, the feeling of how hard he was for her made her so much wetter.

“We’ll make it fit. I’ll make sure you’ll take all of it.” He promised, sealing it with a kiss. He pulled down his shorts, revealing how big he was — His tip glossed with precum. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long, N/N — wanted you in my bed since I first saw you.” He confesses, guiding his dick between her folds. His tip rested right at her pussy, inching in slowly as she winced in pain.

“Want me to stop, baby?” He coos, caressing her soft thigh.

She shook her head, “I-I can take it, Lui—S-Swear.”

Satisfied, he pushes himself in her even more. “God, you feel so fucking good — wanna fuck you so hard, but we gotta wait, right?” He teased.

“Fuck me, Lui.” She pleaded, pulling his face down so she could whisper into his ear, the hard plastic pressed against the shell of his ear — “I want you to fuck me until I can't walk straight."

With that, he pushed himself all the way inside, his dick harder than ever before. The burning sensation intensified, a small shriek erupting from her throat. “F-Fuck.” Y/N gasped.

The initial pain soon subsided as he continued to thrust, his hips connecting to hers — Luigi & Y/N becoming one. She cried with pleasure as Luigi’s pace intensified, making her tits’ jiggle out of the skimpy tank top, her eighteen karat gold chain smacking against her chest.

It felt so fucking wrong, yet so fucking right.

He wasn’t ever supposed to see her in that way — For fucks’ sake, he wasn’t even supposed to know who she was!

Mangione was her fantasy come to life. She loved the way he felt, his cock going in so deep inside her he could see an imprint of where he was. He couldn’t resist, taking her hand in his and placing it on her stomach.

“You feel that? I want you to remember it f-forever.” He groaned. Her cunt grasped him hard, holding him even tighter.

“Oh fuck! Y-You make me feel so fucking g-good, baby.” She whimpered.

“Yeah?” He mocked, grinding his hips deeper into hers, his pace slowing down a bit, making her feel every inch and vein of his. She clenched around him once more, Luigi groaning at the sudden tightness. He worked harder, hips snapping into hers as he picked up the pace once again.

Y/N loved how full he made her, the way he didn’t leave a single part of her body untouched.

“God, it’s like this pussy was made for me. Tell me, how good do I fuck you, baby?” He gripped on her hips, smiling at her fucked out expression.

“So,” It was all she could get out, her speech becoming more incoherent the closer she got. Y/N placed her manicured fingers on her clit rubbing her sensitive bud in circles, matching his pace.

Her body squirmed at the dual stimulation — It was all becoming too much. Y/N wanted this to last forever, never wanting to forget how his big dick felt inside her body, fucking her like the slut she knew she was.

“Luigi!” She screamed in pleasure, reaching her peak. Her walls pulsated around him like crazy, nearly sending Luigi into his climax. As much as he wanted to cum inside her, the thought of him cumming on her beautiful glasses sent him into overdrive.

God, he just loved her fucking glasses.

“Please baby, I just wanna cum on your glasses. Can I, baby?” He pleaded, pulling out of her. He took his needy cock in his strong hand, he inching closer to her frames.

He was so close, how could she deny him such a pleasure?

Y/N nodded, excitedly grabbing his dick from his hold and jerked him, aiming him closer to her frames. “Like this?” She asked sweetly as he shuddered around her touch.

His cum quickly shot out of him, landing on her glasses and coating her vision. “Just like that, sweetheart.” He assured her.

Luigi released himself from her touch, wanting to mark her up with his cum, aiming for below her stomach. He released a string of curses under his breath, chasing his much needed relief.

“Fuck, that was definitely the best sex I’ve ever had.” He breathed, feeling so fucked out as he laid next to Y/N’s body.

At that point, her hair had been messed up as the anti-humidity spray was no longer holding up as some texture had shown up, adding onto her “sexed out” look.

Even with her hair wild and free, she still managed to look so beautiful — Luigi couldn’t get enough.

She shook her head, playfully rolling her eyes at him. “Please, you’re just saying that.”

“I mean every word I say, Y/N. I’ve thought about you so much, it drove me insane — Do you know how hard it is to run a fraternity when there’s only one thing on your mind?” He ranted, now getting up from his spot on the bed.

She shook her head, knowing he couldn’t see her from his private bathroom. She was amused with the Italian. “Didn’t know it was so hard on you, Mr. President.”

“Very hard, actually.” He stated, returning with a damp cloth and wiping her body down. “Especially when she was known as the hottest virgin.” He joked, making her laugh.

Once she’s all wiped down, Luigi then uses his own personal glasses cleaning kit from his bedside drawer, spraying the liquid onto the stained glass, cleaning her frames with such care.

“You’re too much, Luigi.” She smiled, adoring the man beside her. “So detailed, too.”

“I’ll prove it everyday if I have to, Bellisima.” He professes, placing her frames back on her face with such care. “I’m not letting you go after everything you said to me.” Luigi pulls her in for another kiss, reassuring her he was there to stay.

[vettelsvee]

letting oscar take your virginity to celebrate his win

(if this makes you uncomfortable please to deny or only write fluffy before/after!) love ur work sm

V CARDS GOODBYES | Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: Oscar arrives home after winning his first ever Formula 1 race, so you think it’s the perfect time for you to celebrate and, also, to say goodbye to your v card ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Hope you like it anon! And sorry it's taken me almost a year I'm a mess 😭

WORD COUNT: 3958

WARNINGS: Smut (virginity loss, female receiving oral sex, fingering, p in v, protected sex, little bit of praising kink), curse words

VEE'S NOTES: Came to the conclusion after the latests Oscar fics I’ve posted that he's the most popular driver on my Tumblr page, so this is for all my Osc people out there! I'm always ashamed of posting smut (but still want to keep writing it) so I hope this is good enough for you to enjoy! Remember that your comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! Thanks for reading <3 (Also, thoughts on the new layout?) ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

The door of the apartment you shared in Monaco opened, and before Oscar could step inside, he heard excited screams that made it clear someone was more than happy about his arrival.  

Not only did your cat start rubbing against his leg while purring, but also you, his girlfriend, were hopping towards him, barefoot and wrapped in one of his McLaren hoodies, which turned out to be even bigger on you than you had expected when you decided it would be a great idea to steal it from your boyfriend.  

"You did it, Osc!” you squealed as you threw your arms around his neck. "Osc, oh my God, you won a race! Do you know what that means?"  

Oscar felt his cheeks turn red. Of course, he knew exactly what winning a Grand Prix meant, especially during his second season in Formula 1. However, all he did was shrug, as if his achievement wasn’t that important.  

"Yeah," was all he could say.  

"I’m so, so proud of you," you said in a trembling voice, standing on your tiptoes to cup his face in your hands.  

"I couldn’t have done it without you, even though you were here," Oscar replied sincerely, a hint of regret in his tone. If there was one thing he regretted, it was that you hadn’t been there with him throughout the whole process of stepping onto the podium.  

"I know you would have liked me to be there, and I would’ve loved that too," you replied, making a sad but funny face. "But it’s okay! I screamed at the TV a lot, so I guess I helped in some way… And I’m sure you’ll win more races and I’ll be there to see them all, so it’s not the end of the world!"

Oscar chuckled and pulled you close until there was no space between you. He allowed himself a few moments to hold onto you, gently running his fingers through your hair while you clung tightly to his shirt, pressing your face into his chest as if he might disappear at any second.  

"Hey… I have something for you."

Even though you whispered it, Oscar heard you perfectly. You bit your lip,. a telltale sign of nervousness he knew well, as you pulled away from him. Then, you quickly headed towards the living room, with the Australian following you, and grabbed a small book he had never seen before.  

Carefully, as if it were fragile, you handed it to your boyfriend.  

"Open it… I hope you like it!"

Oscar did as you asked. Gently, he opened what he soon realized was a photo album. It wasn’t just a collection of pictures of you from the past two years since you started dating. It was beautifully decorated. There were messages, and even reflections from your perspective about each memory you had built together.  

"I know it’s not a big deal, but since I was so bored with studying, I have to admit I procrastinated a bit and felt like doing some crafts, so… well, this was the result," you said hesitantly, as if you were confessing a crime, though a small smile crept onto your lips. "Maybe you were expecting something else, I don’t know, but I hope you like it. You could even take it with you whenever you have to travel, so you remember me and also add something else if you feel in the mood," you added softly.  

Oscar felt a lump in his throat, unsure of what to say. Although he was used to you being thoughtful, and he always tried to reciprocate, you somehow kept outdoing yourself.  

"Y/N, this is…" he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. More accurately, he didn’t know how to express them. "It’s incredible. Thank you so much."

You smiled and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips, which, as you both expected, quickly turned into something more desperate, fueled by your hunger for each other.  

Oscar’s hands found your waist beneath the hoodie, his fingers tracing invisible lines along your skin, moving up and down, even toying with the clasp of your bra. The only thing you could do was keep kissing him, tugging at his hair lightly and pressing yourself against his thigh, seeking friction to ease the growing ache within you.  

Then, you suddenly pulled away, more abruptly than Oscar had expected. Your pupils were completely dilated, your lips swollen, and your hair a complete mess.  

"Oscar…" 

"Y/N…"

"I want to do it."

Your voice was barely a whisper. Oscar’s eyes widened, surprised because, even though he perfectly understood what you meant, hearing you say it out loud was an entirely different feeling.  

"Bebe…" 

"I really, really want to do it, Osc," you repeated, more as a confirmation to yourself than to him. "Yesterday, you lost your v-card in Formula 1 with your victory, so… I was thinking maybe I could lose mine too."  

Oscar had known from the very beginning of your relationship that you had never been physically involved with anyone beyond a couple of kisses and teasing. At first, you had been insecure about telling him, worried about feeling ashamed, but Oscar had always made sure you felt safe and comfortable, promising you would only take steps forward when you were truly ready.  

Today, your words made clear that you finally felt like that moment arrived, and that filled Oscar with happiness not because you were about to have sex, but because it meant you were finally comfortable enough with yourself to take that step.  

"Are you… sure?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. "You know we don’t have to rush anything… I don’t want you to feel like we have to do this just because, you know…" 

"I know, Osc, and I promise I wouldn’t be bringing this up if I weren’t sure," you reassured him, looking into his eyes as you ran your fingers over his hands. "I love you, and most importantly, I trust you. I’ve thought about this for a long time, and well… yeah."

"It’s just… I don’t want to mess anything up, Y/N. This is really important, and it should be perfect,” he confessed with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.  

You smiled, cupping his face and bringing him closer for a kiss.  

"It doesn’t have to be perfect as long as it’s with you, Osc.”

"Okay, but… if you change your mind at any point, you tell me," Oscar insisted. You laughed, rolling your eyes.  

"I promise, really."

Your lips met again, but this time much slower. Oscar took his time kissing you carefully, wanting to do everything right. He cradled your cheek with one hand to deepen the kiss, while the other wrapped around your back, guiding you gently toward the bedroom you shared.  

Once inside, he forced himself to stop and take a deep breath to avoid panicking, even though there was no reason to.  

You stood in front of him, looking at him with a mix of shyness and adoration that reminded him of your early days, when you just used to go out for coffee or to the movies back in high school.  

Oscar couldn’t help but look at you with an equally shy, yet utterly endearing, expression.  

"Tell me if you want me to stop, alright?"

"I will, yeah."  

You didn’t need to say anything else since kissing spoke for you. You took your time, enough for Oscar to make sure you felt completely comfortable, enough for you to overthink just a little more before deciding if you really wanted to continue…  

*"I love you, Oscar…" you murmured between kisses. You tugged at his shirt, helping him pull it off, running your hands over his bare chest as if you were seeing him for the first time.  

"I love you too, Y/N…" 

With nerves and hands shakier than he would have liked, almost as if he were the inexperienced one, he took hold of the hem of your hoodie and slowly lifted it over your head, leaving you in just your underwear.  

Oscar was surprised to see you in black lace lingerie instead of the usual shorts you wore around the house. He was about to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. You closed the distance between you, pressing your foreheads together before kissing him once again.  

Neither knew how long you were like this, but you both agreed that it had been long enough to discover that you needed more of each other.

Oscar ended up forcing himself to pull away from you and take a breath. A smile curved between his lips, which caused you, somewhat nervously, to giggle at the situation and hug him around the waist, pulling him closer to you while trying not to shove him away.

“Really, we don't have to do it if you don't want to, Y/N,” the McLaren driver insisted once again.

“I've been looking forward to doing this for a long time, and I've been mentally preparing for it for a while,” she told him, trying not to sound uneasy. “I trust you, Osc, and there's nothing for you to worry about.”

“So...?”

“I want you to make me yours, Oscar. Today, tomorrow or whenever and wherever you want,” you whispered in his ear as sensually as you could.

“Y/N…”

“Oscar: I just want you to fuck me.”

You felt your boyfriend tense up after those words that had caught even you off guard. Instinctively, you brought your hand to the noticeable bulge under Oscar's pants, but when you tried to reach for the button to unbutton them, he pushed your hands away lovingly.

“No, honey, none of that for now. Today is your day, so let me do the work and just enjoy yourself.”

Oscar, without another word, took you by the chin and kissed you again for the umpteenth time that day. Now, your lips moved at a slower speed. You guessed it was because you noticed how one of Oscar's hands began to massage one of your breasts, giving special attention to the nipple. With the other, he lightly brushed your pussy, making you gasp when he decided to play with your clit.

“Do you like it, babe?” he asked in a tone of voice that showed too much excitement.

His fingers now delved a little deeper into your intimacy, those enveloping movements becoming a little faster.

“Yes, Osc...” you barely managed to answer.

That answer was enough for the Australian to stop immediately. You didn't even look him in the face. Oscar pulled away from you, leaving a quick kiss on your lips and starting a trail of kisses all over your body, stopping once he reached your lower stomach area.

“Y/N…”

His hands stood delicately on your thighs, which he was now kissing, closer and closer to your pussy. Your hair stood on end. Your breath was completely held, unable to breathe in case that put an end to it all, as if that would be enough for Oscar to finish whatever he was doing with you. 

“If anything we do tonight makes you uncomfortable and you want to stop, just tell me please,” the Australian declared. “And, before your little head starts thinking nonsense: no, I'm not going to get mad at you because you don't want to have sex, okay? If you don't want to…”

“Oscar, look at me,” you cut him off, and the boy immediately listened to you: “it's you, and I'm not going to feel uncomfortable with you and with anything you do to me.”

“Do you promise me, love?”

“I swear.”

Oscar nodded, grabbing your thighs again and dragging you to the edge of the bed so that his face was in front of your pussy, perfectly aligned with your entrance.

Without warning, he slid his tongue, flat, all over it with a slowness that was completely unbearable and that seemed that, rather than pleasing you, he wanted to kill you little by little. His movements were frantic; constant changes of speed, from faster to slower, and vice versa, that made his nose rub against your clit while his tongue seemed to do wonders with that dance.

When Oscar's tongue began to explore inside you, and his index finger, the one he used to show on camera every time he got a first position just like Sebastian Vettel did in his golden age, started a tortuous tour of your labia majora, you curled up shyly but instinctively. Your hands ended up tangled in his hair, forcing him closer to you at the same time your hips did the same.

“I think you're liking it, aren't you my little girl?” Piastri said, ending his oral contact with you and replacing it with his finger. His gaze was fixed on her, and you thought about why he hadn't done this to you before.

“Don't stop, Osc. For the sake of God, don't even think about stopping...” you gasped, becoming increasingly unable to articulate a word.

He didn't have to say anything else. After those words, Oscar slipped a second finger inside you. You let out a small gasp of surprise and he, without taking his eyes off you, laughed, your cheeks turning red almost instantly. Despite this, he kissed your thighs as he continued the back and forth with his index finger, adding his heart almost soon after while increasing even more the speed.

You felt that everything was going too fast, and the waves of pleasure that were flooding you were making you lose, more and more, the notion of time. You didn't know at what point, but when he decided to add his tongue back into the equation, without leaving the movements of his fingers inside you going straight to that spot that gave you the most pleasure, a strange sensation gripped the lower part of your stomach.

It was getting harder and harder for you to hold back your orgasm. You felt how your eyes were closing little by little, and your leg, too, to which Oscar put a little pressure on them to prevent them from closing.

“Come for me, love,” Oscar let you know. “Come on, Y/N, you've got it babe. Come on…”

And so you did.

Your back curved in such a way that your body, completely sweaty, could hardly keep on writhing as it was doing. You were moaning like you had never moaned before, and your boyfriend seemed to notice. A smirk of satisfaction and success began to break from his lips as he licked at your fluids, his mouth moving slowly now, over-stimulating your clit and making you incessantly.

The Australian rose and carefully positioned himself on top of you.

“I love you, Y/N, you don't know how much,” he said between kisses, making you taste yourself for the first time, but hopefully not the last one. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world... And the best girl in the world. Don't ever doubt it.”

“Oscar, don't…”

“Yes you are, Y/N, and I will not allow you to speak so negatively about yourself.”

After those last words, the driver pulled away from you slightly, trying yo give you some time to recover. Then, you looked at him taking what seemed to be a condom from the bedside table, which he carefully put on and immediately positioned at your entrance. 

You swallowed, while Oscar tried not to think about whether he was really going too fast.

·I don't want to sound weird, but... please, if you want me to stop, just tell me,” Oscar spoke as best he could, trying not to succumb to the nerves he felt about taking this important step with you. “I want you to be pretty sure about this since… Well, since there’s not going back…”

You said nothing. Instead, you gave him a slight nod with your head, still looking at him, which was enough for Oscar to enter you carefully, but without a previous warning.

He decided to stand for a while so you could get used to his length. You felt a little pain. You held back a scream, bit your lips and closed your eyes to do your best to make that feeling go away as soon as possible.

“Y/N…”

“Go on, Oscar. It's all right…”

The boy nodded, and finished entering you with the same care. Little by little, his movements gained speed. You arched your back, moaning incessantly as she started feeling more comfortable with the depth of penetration, and Oscar hitting her in a spot that made her feel a pleasure that you feel in a way you didn’t know how to describe, but that felt good enough to make you never want that sex session to end.

“Does it feel good, honey? Are you enjoying my... cock... for the first time?” Oscar moaned, biting her neck. “Look at you… so desperate for me to keep fucking you…”

“Fuck, Oscar... this is a fantasy,” you gasped. “And you talking so... like… like this... God... Don't stop, please…”

“Never for you, sweetheart.”

Your moans became one, a melody that your neighbors were probably listening to but you didnt give a fuck. Your gazes could hardly be averted, and your words, getting dirtier and dirtier as much as your were embarrassed at first, were sounding louder and louder, as were your pleas.

“Oscar!” you shrieked as you felt Oscar's fingers press against you nervous bundle.”

“Love...” he moaned through his teeth. ”Don't stop moaning my name, please. You don't know how you're making me feel right now.

·And of course I'm going to make you feel so much better when we do this again,” you replied, choking with pleasure. As best you could, you sat up a little and wrapped you arms around you boyfriend's neck. “I want to do it again, Osc,” you made it clear. “I want us to do this every time we get the chance....”

You kept moaning his name, giving him promises you knew he would never break. He kept reassuring you and how good you were doing, speeding up his movements as he couldn’t stop playing with your clit, all of that while he kept telling you that you were his.

You couldn't contain it anymore for the second time that day.

“Fuck, Osc,” he stammered. “I think I'm gonna…”

“Let yourself go, honey,” the brown-haired said. “You can do it, love. Cum for me.”

Your orgasm came before you could say anything else. Oscar came within seconds of you, and as soon as he did he ended, he gave you a short kiss on the lips as he carefully pulled out of heyour and collapsed beside you. 

Oscar's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. You rested your head on his shoulder, trying to regain your composure with increasingly slower breaths. 

“You ok babe?” Oscar murmured after a few minutes.

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding your head with a smile peeking out. “Better than ever, actually.”

It was then that it dawned on Oscar. Quickly, he sat up a little and saw what was under where you were still positioned. His heart began to race, and a pressure settled in his chest as he realized the light blue bed sheets were stained slightly with blood as was his condom, still on him and which he hadn't paid attention to because he just wanted to be with you cuddling after he'd made you lose your virginity.

“Hey, listen, love…” he started to say in a calm, but concerned tone.

You followed his gaze, and couldn't help but blush and die of embarrassment inside.

“Oh...” you spoke quietly, instinctively covering yourself with the sheets. “This... is normal. Well, I guess so…”

“Does it hurt? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, denying it, though the look on your face seemed to say otherwise.

“Well… It's just a little... just a little sore. But it's fine, really. It happens when you have sex for the first time with someone.”

Oscar studied your face, and he knew you wanted to stop this conversation. You wanted to let it go and pretend everything was fine so you wouldn't give him any sign that you hadn't liked it, even though your moans and pleas seemed to say otherwise.

“Still, you shouldn't let it go.”

The Australian approached you and gave you a shy kiss on the forehead. Then he got out of bed, still naked.

·Where are you going?” you asked in a voice mixed with curiosity and nervousness.

“I'm going to get a towel with hot water to clean you up.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was already heading towards the bathroom while taking off his condom. As you heard the faucet turn on, and your boyfriend getting everything ready, you couldn't help but feel bad because, maybe, Oscar deserved better, and your behavior, what was happening to you now, was not what he deserved.

You forced yourself to stop overthinking because if there’s one thing you knew for sure is that Oscar loved you, more than sometimes you were conscious of.

Your boyfriend came back a few minutes later, and found you sitting on the bed, curled up on yourself and clinging to the sheets while still covering with them, as if you were afraid.

“You don't have to…”

“I know,” Oscar cut you off, offering you a small smile, “but I want to. So, please, just let me take care of you.”

Your eyes softened at his proposal, and you forced yourself to calm down as Oscar, with his gaze and his hands coyly on your thighs, asked your permission to spread your legs. You nodded, and he carefully ran the wet towel and hot water over your pussy, giving it little touches because he didn't want to risk it stinging or hurting any more because he really didn't know exactly how the female body worked after losing your virginity.

When he finished, he kissed her knee and sat down next to her again, also covering himself with the sheets so he could hug her and, more than anything else, try to reassure her and make her feel as good as possible.

“There, that's it, all settled. Now, let's stay here and rest.”

“Was it good?”

Oscar let out a small laugh from his mouth at your sudden question as he leaned over to you and snuggled into your shoulder. 

”You've been amazing, love,” he replied, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Now you were both lying on your bed, looking at each other. “Are you okay now that… Did I hurt you? I need you to be honest with me... I should have asked you if you liked the pace I decided to take because, well, I’m not going to lie to you, I think I could have gone a little slower...”

You shook your head and didn't give him a chance to keep talking. Instead, you grabbed his face and pressed your lips to his.

“You don't have to worry about anything, Osc. It was far from perfect. So, from now on, I hope you win more races because from today on, winning sex has become a tradition that I hope we keep for a long time.”

Oscar laughed, knowing you were completely serious.

“We can make a tradition of this and anything else you want, love,” he buried his face in yours, and began to tickle your waist gently. “We can even have several rounds if you want, so… thoughts on that? Should we keep ready for a second round today?”

[nabi-unveiled]

Flipping the Characters in Futtara Doshaburi

This show is a vibe, and I'm vibing with it. I'm loving everything about these two lonely people desperately seeking intimacy. Watching episode four in the car while the rain poured around me only added to the vibe. That said, being in the car means I can't do my normal screenshot process so semi-relevant gifs it is.

We start with Hagiwara descending into the depths. I mentioned after episode 3 that he still had a more positive outlook on his circumstances. But he's now on his way into the hole where he won't be able to gloss over his unhappiness. Sei is already in the hole. He has been there for a while, he knows he's there, and he's somewhat resigned himself to it.

This change in Hagiwara's attitude is reflected in our aesthetics too. While Hagiwara's home had bright and warm elements last episode, the door to his house is cold and dark after their dinner. It's no longer welcoming. The restaurant is where the warm colors resided.

However, the truly interesting thing to me about this show is in how much this show has flipped the character expectations.

It's flipped the idea of "good guys" and "bad guys" - particularly in a drama that's definitely leading towards cheating. It's pretty standard fair in a cheating drama for the partners to be painted as not caring or evil. But as Hiragawa and Sei make clear in their exchange after the meal, nobody really is in the wrong (yet). It's really unfair to all of them. I actually think Sei's partner has the shortest end of this stick thus far, but that's a different discussion.

The partners of our leads are caring. They cook for our leads. They clean up for our leads. They are kind. But they offer companionship, not sex. This makes them "cruel". It's cruel to be kind.

Our leads actually have only shown minimal considerations towards their partner. Sei sprayed perfume and Hiragawa goes to his girlfriend's social events, but they aren't the ones doing the major acts of service. The have mainly shown care to each other, not their partners. And they mainly want sex (and intimacy, but...the dialogue keeps saying sex) from their partners. In most other shows, our leads would be the "bad guy". The boyfriend who is obsessed with sex and has you do all of the work. But this show is clearly demonstrating that while romance may be in the little things, the little things cannot fill the empty hole. And it's okay to want that hole to be filled.

The characterization of our main leads has flipped as well. The initial setup in episode one depicted Hagiwara as a bit of a bumbling oaf. He sent an email to the wrong address. He forgot to pick up his ID card. Sei, on the other hand, was initially portrayed as the fastidious one handling a business need and admonishing Hagiwara for wearing an id tag that wasn't company issued.

But we have learned that those were false impressions. Hagiwara is good at his job. It's made clear that he's good at planning the company outings. He's good at sales. He's the responsible one gathering and returning the umbrellas. He's the "picky" one at the grill making sure the grilling is done correctly. Sei is the one who stands in the rain and acts a mess. We now know he likely reacted to the id tag because of his complex feelings about who designed it, not because he actually cared about the rules. It's an interesting switch up.

There's also some interesting flips in that Hagiwara is a gregarious guy who talks a lot (he's in sales after all). He not only goes to social events on the regular, he plans them. But he never says what he actually wants. That characterization is more common, but it's still an interesting dichotomy. He is tumblr - only saying his deepest thoughts when writing to a stranger.

Meanwhile, Sei says exactly what he wants. The man is crude and rude, but he's also open with his thoughts. Many taciturn, loner characters are blunt, but few are as open as Sei. He just lays it all out on the table. I wish I could catch the linguistics of Japanese to know if he's actually using rude speech patterns as well, but that's outside of my skillset.

Being a prickly porcupine, Sei is used to people being put off by him. He said earlier that he wasn't nice. And he's not. But we still LIKE him and we still FEEL for him. And that's incredibly difficult to pull off in a show that clocks episodes in at under 25 minutes.

Sei fully expected that Higawara would back off and only give him courtesy greetings once he found out his identity. His friend from college did just that this episode. A few courtesy greetings followed by "Oh you don't have LINE. Guess we won't talk then. Bye." Fujisawa is the only one that seems to have put up with his personality. But Higawara, as bad as he is at expressing his own thoughts, feels comfortable with Sei. He keeps reaching out. He reached out through e-mail. He reached out with an umbrella. He reached out with an invite to treat Sei for helping. He reached out with a dinner invite. And unlike his partner, Sei responds.

For Sei, whose desire to talk keeps getting shut down by his partner, this invitation explicitly to talk is a lifeline. He always responds, taking any hint of Hiragawa reaching out to initiate an entire, probably way-too-honest conversation. After all, the hole is deep.

By the end of the episode, Hagiwara has fully descended into the underground thanks to our pregnant friend spilling the tea. In a bright environment with a lot of light no less (enlightenment I dare say?). He's reaches out to his partner in a final attempt and gets shut down. So he reaches out to Sei. And, Sei does what he always does. He responds. He welcomes someone joining him in the underground. At the end of the day, they both crave the intimacy this connection is providing. But as the storm glass predicts....rain is coming.

How did they fit that much meaty stuff in a 25 minute episode?!

[lorynna]

The thing that bothers me about the radical feminist community on Tumblr is how unforgiving and harsh some radfems are, when they disagree with your views. I've seen it a couple of times now. We will talk about sisterhood, supporting each other and the love we share for other women but sometimes we cannot criticize each other respectfully.

Especially for the women only slowly getting into radical feminism, because it is new to them, they can be quick to get sassy reblogs due to posting their yet unripe thought processes or making mistakes and that's genuinly sad to see.

On the other hand when it comes to other disagreements: I understand your frustrations and I understand that we won't always agree with each other on everything but that doesn't mean that we have to be unkind to each other.

Sadly, I often feel like me saying things like "I don't think that men are inherently evil", "men have the potential to improve" or "i had a great father figure in my life and I am happy in my current het partnership" puts a great target on my back and I've had many harassive anons sent to me by other supposed radfems.

In all honesty I don't feel free to sometimes say what I think because I just have the feeling that there will be harsh backlash for stating things like the sentences put in quotation above - even when I never challenged radfems that think differently or have had a different life experience compared to mine. Even when all I do is state my own life's reality detached from everything else.

And by sharing mine - I never mean to undermine or disregard the experiences of other women. I respect you. I see you. I see why you hate men and I would never argue with you about why you shouldn't. Again, I empathize with you and I acknowledge that we have different lived realities.

I don't think I have to defend myself regarding this stance but without going into too much detail I was really lucky to have a really amazing father growing up. Generally, I have had great male role models in my life and I love them very much. Just as much as I love my boyfriend who treats me very well. I have seen two sides of the same coin. And if me therefore saying that I don't think that "all men are inherently evil" makes you want to refute my experience angrily - that's your choice.

I am in my early 20s, I have not been part of radical feminist for very long and I am not as smart or as eloquent as many other radfems on this platform - without question. I am here for the discourse, for learning from others and to listen to their experiences. I hope to make Tumblr a little bit of a better place.

[vesseloflukola]

Luke and Nicola

I have not changed my opinion since my last post. I very much believe the Boss event that Luke took Antonia to was PR and misdirection. I think there are several reasons why he took her to that event. Here are my opinions on what those reasons are:

1. With Nic being nominated for a SAG award, I think they could want to squash any talk of them being together and anyone thinking that she only gave such a great performance because they had feelings for one another or were dating instead of the fact that she is a phenomenal actress who did a fantastic job.

2. There are some upcoming changes in their dynamic bts for which they would like privacy, and some Lukola shippers are too close to their truth and they want to reverse that narrative.

3. There is an agreement or NDA in place, where Luke was obligated to promote Antonia and give her some visibility in return for something she has already done or is currently doing (which could be keeping her silence about L & N’s bts situation).

I personally believe all three of these could be true. I also believe it is hard to say what we will see additionally in the near future. I think it will depend on how well they think they have pulled off this misdirection.

I know, just on Tumblr, there have been many people who have decided to leave the ship as they saw this as a “hard launch” by Luke. There are others who are just confused and unsure what to believe (which is a very valid way to feel when big surprises like this happen). There are also bloggers who have deactivated their accounts, some who plan to pull back a little on what they talk about and post, and some who plan to pull back a lot on what they talk about and post.

As I have never been a daily blogger and I seldom get asks, I don’t plan to change how I post here much.

If something comes up (mostly from them), I will share my thoughts.

I will say that I love Nicola and Luke, as actors, both together and separately. I think they are both phenomenal actors, both talented in many ways, and I am excited to find out any project they will work on in the future. I wish success for both of them.

I have seen the love between them. I have seen how they support one another, how they seem to bring out the best in each other and how they bring each other joy and light. I see how they both light up when they are around one another. I would never have started shipping them if I had not seen what I did between them.

I’m both curious and excited at what we could see next from them, but I also would not be very surprised if things were to get pretty quiet for a while.

[entropicbias]

star trek online with a youtube video.

(note, this is an old post, but i've decided to do more blogging like this here, so i remembered it.)

i decided to try out star trek online and live out my trekkie fantasies the other day. my first run in with the game was eons ago at a thrift store, but my current laptop is lacking a cd player, so i couldn't really try it out for sure. i don't know if it would work anyways considering it's a copy of the game from, what, 2010? what would be the point of that.

the first star trek game i ever played was the TNG game for the snes. i emulated it on my shitty old laptop. it was unfortunately a bust, cause i had no idea what i was doing.

speaking of tng, before i do my review, did you know a certain somebody used to make tng edits? can you recognize that flute sample?

anyway, my best friend dave (who doesn’t even have a tumblr) brought it up, assuming i’d never heard of star trek online. TCH! who do you think i am, you simpleton? naturally, i had to flex on him. whipping out the cd like some kind of seasoned star trek online veteran just to make a mockery of him. but really, the joke is on me, because let’s be honest, no one takes a self-proclaimed star trek online expert seriously.

so, i downloaded it off steam and ignored all the mixed reviews! i didn't stay in character creation for too long, but i tried to make him resemble me as much as possible. that's because my character's name is john kirk. he is john tiberius kirk.

john t. kirk of the u.s.s johnterprise. because enterprise is a restricted word (STUPID AND LAME?)

here is what i was greeted to.

quite frankly, i'm a little upset at the amount of diversity aboard. already i am seeing TWO vulcans. this is absurd. there is only one vulcan that should be aboard my ship, and he hasn't finished downloading the game yet.

OK! TIME TO PLAY THE FREAKIN' GAME FOR REAL! :D

after picking some of my skills (i chose to be aggressive, pistol handy, and uhh... i forgot the other one but believe me when i say it was good.)

i am meet this son of a bitch

captain...? CAPTAIN? OF THE JOHNTERPRISE? THE HELL YOU ARE! GET YOUR FALLOUT CLAYMATION ASS OFF OF MY FREAKING CHAIR! i thought you started out as captain? what is the point of naming my ship if i don't even get to be captain??? i need to show this guy who is BOSS.

the second thing i figured out about this game, is that if you walk into an object and believe in yourself you can actually gyrate with skill akin to that of a zumba instructor. so, i immediately had to gyrate next to captain isaac carrot to put him in his place.

it was a massacre for garrett. if i was you, "captain", i'd hang my head in shame and go back to being an ensign from being so hopelessly outmatched. it was also at this point i remembered that i could record my gameplay, which countered my ability to remember that my computer's cpu couldn't properly cool itself and i hadn't turned on my laptop fan. so amidst scanning some debris, my computer shat itself and died.

AND THEN RECORDED THE REST OF MY GAMEPLAY! watch it here. https://youtu.be/eeEs0el8Woo?si=djN9iLpkH3bGwNle there is some impossibly hard to read commentary there, and you may be wondering why i don't talk, and that's because i sound like bart simpson, so it's best that you just squint your eyes and pretend like morgan freeman's sultry voice is narrating my captions. if you do not want to sit through half an hour of shitty footage, then feel free to skip to 24:47 where i realize that you do not get a chance to meet captain kirk at the end of your first rodeo, and it genuinely breaks my heart. that is todays post, goodbye. update from jan 2025: i haven't touched the game since because i realized that i was just not going to be all that invested if most of the gameplay was from outside of the ship and i didn't have my very own personal spock.

-eb

[sturnlsstuff]

Heyyy, loving the new theme and I can’t wait to see what you’re cooking with the new au.

In the meantime, could I maybe request ghostface!matt going absolutely insane because the reader suddenly goes missing (in reality she just went to a cousins wedding or something and failed to tell him just to test him, a little bit toxic I know). Please feel free to make it as smutty, angsty or soft as you like.

Still making my tumblr addiction worse but I still love you for it, keep cooking:)

ghostface!matt would definitely somehow find out about an event like a wedding!! even without the reader knowing, cuz he honestly knows everything 😭 so i changed it a bit!! & sorry it took me so long and is short afff

there was no surprise to matt when he woke up around two in the afternoon. whenever he was out all night, taking care of his business— which is probably already being talked about by everyone in town, TV and the internet stuffed with informations after how many victims matt has left this time, he would always sleep long, needing some rest. being a ghostface can be tiring, after all.

that's when he first texted you.

only after taking a shower, eating lunch and getting ready for the day, he realized that he didn't get any response from you. he wanted to see you today, so he sent you another message. still nothing. not even a quick check-in.

you never do that.

his stomach twisted with unease, but he didn’t let himself panic. not yet. he typed out another simple text: "what u up to sweetheart?"

then, he waited.

minutes passed. then minutes stretched into hours that felt like an eternity. his fingers drummed on the edge of his desk as his eyes flickered over to the camera feed on his second monitor.

your room— still empty.

matt’s throat tightened. wherever you were— maybe library or your favorite cafè, or even shopping, you were supposed to be home by now. he was sure you didn't have anything important to do that day, he would know about this.

he stood up, pacing the small space of his apartment, checking the clock again. he keeps sending you texts, more urgent with each time: “just answer me i wanna know where you at".

no reply.

he ran a hand through his hair, then pulled his jacket on. he decided to go to your place, maybe you just fall asleep on the couch in your living room? sounds a lot like you.

though, once he got there, you didn't open the door and no sound could be heard from inside your apartment. which almost send him into a spiral, he tried to convince himself that he had control of the situation as always, but the pit in his stomach was growing.

panic started to claw at the edges of his mind as matt drives home, with one hand checking your social media again, but there was nothing new. now he was sure he's not dramatic. where the fuck where you?

it wasn’t like you to go quiet for this long. the silence gnawed at him sending waves of unease, crashing over him as for the rest of the day matt keeps staring at his phone, eyes burning with frustration. his thumb hovered over the screen, but nothing came through. the messages he sent you, the ones begging for a response, just sat there— unread and unanswered. he tried to convince himself you're just busy, but the thought barely stuck as he knows your routines and habits, and most importantly, you never ignore him.

he paced back and forth, the apartment suddenly too small, the walls closing in. his heartbeat thrummed in his ears, the more he waited, the more his thoughts splintered. what if something happened to her? what if she’s with someone else?

the idea struck like a bolt of lightning, and he couldn’t shake it. what if you didn’t want him anymore?

no, he thought, trying to calm himself. that's insane, he knows you wouldn’t just leave, you need him as much as he needs you... right?

or maybe you snitched on him and now hide somewhere?

"fucking idiot," he curses at himself as his thoughts were becoming a frenzy, a vicious loop of worst-case scenarios and insecurities. he paced faster now, his shoes scuffing the floor, his mind spiraling further.

he ran his hands over his face, trying to push the panic down, trying to breathe. she's probably just distracted, she’s busy, she’ll come back, it’s fine… the mantra didn’t help. nothing helped. his hands were shaking now, his vision blurred.

around 9 pm, when he made his nails bleed from how hard he was biting on them, his phone buzzed. matt grabbed it so fast, he almost dropped it.

he sees your name on the screen, and a wave of relief washes over him.

[djangari]

Okay but VERY VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION

🎤 What are your thoughts on the Känguru Offenbarung?

Uhm... A masterwork??? Like the others?

Dunno what my answer should be except of that.

I mean yeah, it was surely different, but still good in my opinion. Didn't mind the traveling, liked the big fight against the Pinguin (oh I hated that fucker) and the many Antiterroranschläge.

Oh and that had definitely so many straight up in your face comments. Liked that too, cause the first two uhm... radikalisierten mich ein bisschen (It's late and I got a deadline ok?)

[pollyannawog]

oh no i actually like this show

[skunkes]

[hplonesomeart]

Hey. Sorry about the inactivity, but pretty sure no one cared that much anyways lol. Been a looooong time since I kept that distant from Tumblr…at least now I know I’m able to survive without checking posts every day/being chronically online! I’ve got an intense love-hate relationship with this lifestyle I’ve dug myself into. Think I’m getting a little bit better with the balance even if school isn’t really giving me an option. Got a load of work I need to keep catching up on if I don’t want to disappoint my professors. We’ll survive somehow. Here take a quick batch of Puzzle doodles k bye

[2hoothoots]

i was having a chuckle to myself last night about Gristol, and how his plans are basically:

Restore Ford Cruller's memory

Find Maligula

???

Profit

but then... of course they are, right? this is Gristol we're talking about. Fatherland Follies drives home again and again that he's still operating on a child's logic, a warped and reductive version of the world that he never bothered to grow out of. both of his memory vaults center on the images of his childhood, this idealized version of the past that he clings to no matter what. and that's still how he remembers Maligula, too - as this saviour figure, who rushes in to help him when he's in trouble.

[ID: Two slides from Gristol's memory vault, Glory to Grulovia! Left: Gristol clings to Maligula's back as she summons waves to sweep away his assailants. Right: Gristol and Maligula waving from a balcony as the people cheer. Gzar Theodore brandishes a dagger in the background.]

like so much else, Maligula represents a return to this idyllic childhood - to the peace and simplicity of his youth, when he was free from worries and responsibilities. in his mind, he doesn't need to make any further plans - once Maligula's back, everything will go back to normal. Maligula will make everything better.

...is what i thought, but then i remembered this line:

[Screenshot source. ID: Gristol, in Truman's body, bows on his hands and knees in front of the newly-awaked Maligula. The caption reads: "Yes, High Priestess! I am here to correct the mistakes made by my father!"]

and that's kind of interesting, right?

to be clear: this happens directly after Maligula sees Helmut-in-Gristol's-body, and recognises him. her line before this is:

"Little Gzesaravich! Have you come to pay for your father's sins?"

my first thought was that Gristol hadn't expected to still be in Truman's body by the time he managed to find Maligula, and this was him trying to placate her and buy some time until he could explain the situation. but watching the cutscene back, that's clearly not what's happening here. Gristol is answering as himself, and his response of throwing himself to his knees before her is, as far as i can tell, genuine.

so what is going on here?

in Fatherland Follies, there's this line in the ride narration that stuck out to me:

"Why didn't the Gzar help Maligula in her time of need? No one knows, but historians agree - it is Gzar Theodore's biggest failure."

other lines mention Gzar Theodore's "mistake", and it's wording Gristol himself echoes in the screencap above. evidently, he believes that his father abandoned Maligula, leaving her to her fate at the hands of the Psychonauts, and it was that mistake that lead to them being driven out of the country - that mistake which he seeks to correct. maybe he even feels like he has a debt to repay to her for his family turning their backs on her all those years ago.

the 'High Priestess' thing, though - that's kinda weird, and threw me for a loop the first time i played the game. it took me until my second playthrough to connect the dots, and remember how the room in the Lady Luctopus - Gristol's room - was full of Delugionist scribblings and symbols.

[Screenshot source. ID: left, the walls of the hidden backroom in Gristol's hotel suite, covered in scrawlings of eyeballs and Maligula's name. Right, the pinboard from the hidden backroom. On its surface are photographs and newspaper clippings connected by pieces of string.]

i mean, look at this stuff! he had a whole conspiracy board and everything!

we learn very little about the Delugionists and their beliefs as a whole during the game, but i think drawing the connection here suggests two important things. one: that Gristol was in deep with this stuff. i don't know how he linked up with them - maybe via old family connections, or just good old-fashioned digging (we know he's skilled at worming his way into peoples' good graces, after all) - but it seems likely that he's begun to internalise their ideas, maybe even warping his own memories of events. and two: the Delugionists themselves are, if you'll pardon the pun, pretty far off the deep end.

like... i understand why PN2 didn't go heavy on the "mass-murderer cult worship" aspect of things, in the end, but man this is such a tantalising glimpse into the wider mythos around Maligula. Gristol is proud and haughty and thinks himself above everyone else; the fact that his first reaction seeing Maligula is to throw himself to the ground at her feet says so much about the way he's come to see her. he's not just trying to bring back Maligula, his childhood bodyguard. he's trying to bring back Maligula, the High Priestess of the deluge, the semi-mythical figure whose supporters believe even death couldn't stop. he doesn't even flinch at the way she confronts him, and maybe it's because he's bought in so completely to this deified figurehead, this idea of Maligula; more a living force of nature than a person. and it all comes back to the same place: an abdication of responsibility, not just to the person who protected him when he was little but to this avatar of floods and destruction. Maligula will make everything better.

i'd write more about my thoughts on the Delugionists but that'd be taking a hard turn into speculation, and this is already kind of long and rambling so i'd better end it here. but what an unexpected and evocative line, right? it's some of the only stuff we have to go off of regarding the Delugionists as a whole, but i think it does such a good job of hinting at the wider story - at teasing another layer to the mythos surrounding Maligula, one whose ripples we see throughout the game but which never quite breaches the surface.

[strawberry-cowmilk]

oh no somebody I do not want to know about my online presence might have found this account luckily I didn't find anything suspicious in my follower list but oh my god

[beanghostprincess]

Just thinking about the fact Sora died because of the poison she drink to save her kids, because she is gentle and kind. And her only son who the desesperate act work is as kind as her.

But the StrawHats don't know she did that, this is something he don't have the courage to tell. And they know even less that Sanji is ready to do the same.

He isn't pround of that, but he ends up discovering the poison she drink and even have the recipe of how to do it. Because the germa soldiers teached them this and others poisons.

And this little fact is like a silent threat, a thing that if the crew discovers this, would be attentive about anything he drinks until they're certainly he's not gonna do the same thing his mother did.

And when the StrawHats learn about this fact, the exactly thing he expected happens, he notice Chopper and Robin always near the kitchen with the excuse of how's there was calmer, Nami and Usopp start to do his drinks for him or always are looking him while he's doing it, the others does things too. And Sanji notices all of this.

It's needed months to calm the crew, but still after they stop, all of them always have this fear in the back of they're minds (Luffy even goes as far as asking Law to do a check up on Sanji the next time they meet), that he will do this, but they want to believe he will not. They really want to.

(Just a thought that come to my mind yesterday, and I wanted to share, y'know? Based on some headcanons)

Oh, damn. This honestly hits close to home and it's really interesting so I wanna talk about it. But, you know, it's a serious topic so:

TW // Suicide, poison, self-harm, depression, etc etc you know the drill about Sanji and his issues. I don't go deep, tho, so It's not THAT explicit but could be triggering.

I think that after WCI and Wano, they'd all be worried. Sanji has always been pretty self-sacrificing with everyone and he doesn't value his life in the slightest. He doesn't show signs at first of being actively suicidal but the way he treats his own life makes it clear that he gets into self-sabotaging situations to the point of it being considered self-harm or even passive suicidal behavior. He just- Doesn't care about dying because he puts others first all the time. He has been doing that forever and Skypiea is just one of the times he does that. But, y'know, they never notice that. At least not everyone. I think Zoro is the first to know because of Thriller Bark, honestly. That's one of the biggest signs imo. But then they're separated and it's not like they can talk about it. Then two years happen and uh, shit goes downhill after that because WCI is just utterly traumatizing for Sanji and Wano makes everything worse to the point of asking Zoro to kill him if he loses himself. And we always say that's really gay (because it is) but we ignore the whole point of Sanji genuinely asking somebody to kill him without any fucking hesitation. And he spends all of Wano having the biggest crisis of his life wondering if he's human enough or worthy of being in the crew and???? What the actual fuck. Anyway, I think the crew ends up finding out about everything and I don't believe Sanji is well mentally after all of this. I know they don't write it like this because things are happening and they have to go to Egghead, but I think Sanji would end up really fucked up after WCI and Wano to the point of being worrisome.

If they do find out about the poison thing and Sanj's suicidal thoughts (honestly, I don't know how they would even find out about it unless Reiju tells them or Sanji snaps and yells about that, but, y'know. The point is that they know and Sanji is getting worse) I think you're completely right and they'd be all over him. Because that's exactly what happens when somebody acts this way. They look after him to a suffocating extent and watch his steps. They take turns to watch him. They prepare his drinks. They even make up something so he doesn't have to be on night watch so he can sleep, because he's probably not sleeping either. Or eating well, for that matter, which is what makes them all worry even more in the first place.

And hear me out, because I think he would try to do it. Like- Commit, I mean. Not gonna get into the topic too deep but I think he'd try and I think it wouldn't work because somebody would help him right away and I think he'd try to play it off as a mistake and a misunderstanding, but everyone would know. And he'd just try to ignore their pep talks and interventions.

This is projecting from personal experience and everyone goes through these things differently, but God, I think he'd fucking hate it if they looked after him. Because he knows he won't do it again. At least he doesn't want to do it again. But everybody keeps looking after him like he's about to break at any moment and it's so damn annoying to not have any type of privacy because they think he's gonna off himself the second he's alone. And he gets why they're doing it and appreciates their efforts to look after him, but acting this way is not the answer to his problems. It's just asphyxiating and it isn't helping him get better. You know how the crew is, they're NOT subtle and careful with anything and they're just-- They have good intentions but it's suffocating and he can't handle it anymore.

And I think he'd snap. I actually want to write a fic about this if you let me use your idea (I will credit you, ofc) because I think it'd be great to make him snap at Nami, specifically, and then regret it completely.

Long story short because this is getting long: I think Brook and Robin would end up talking things out with him because they're the ones who understand him the most in this situation. He'd apologize to Nami but also everyone else would apologize too for acting this way, they were just worried and wanted to look after him. I think, after this, the only ones watching Sanji would be Brook and Robin and they'd do it carefully, supporting him and helping him get better. And the whole crew would be next to him along the way but doing it with less assertiveness and just gentler.

I think the concept of Sanji thinking about death so often is great because it adds depth to his character and it's not a crazy thought. I think it's pretty damn canon, actually. At least him being careless about his own life.