#not even fully standing both feet

[theshadowrealmitself]

Not enough stories of MJ, Gwen, and Harry getting attacked at the same time/around the same time

Gwen because this is after her father’s death and the villain going after her is thinking wouldn’t it just really fuck with Spidey if he was essentially “responsible” for the death of both of the Stacy’s?

Harry because maybe he knows that Spidey, for whatever reason, means a lot to his friend, so he’s given out statements opposing his father, so the villain going after him is like it’s gonna fuck with Spidey that somebody who openly supports him gets attacked

Then MJ because maybe for the same reason as Harry, maybe because there’s rumors that her and Spidey are dating, maybe they were going after her photographer (Peter) but couldn’t find him so they just said screw it grab the famous person, maybe Spidey’s a fan and this’ll still affect him

Either way, all 3 of them get kidnapped and put in near death situations, but he saves them, he saves all of them, and they get carted away, and then he’s called away because the villains are all attacking still, so he spends the rest of the day doing really stressful, live-saving stuff, like rescuing a bus full of children, holding train tracks together and letting the train run over his back to save everyone inside of it, etc etc etc

So the day finally ends, he’s in emotional and physical shambles, barely holding himself up, but before he can let himself rest, he needs to check on his friends (who don’t know he’s Spidey, don’t know he feels guilty for all them getting attacked, but thankfully don’t blame him for not coming earlier because they weren’t allowed visitors earlier)

But he has to figure out who to visit first: Gwen, who he found out dies in a lot of other universes so she might be in the worst condition, Harry, his best friend who wouldn’t have any other visitors (other than Norman trying to convince him this is all Spidey’s fault) and gets hurt when he feels Peter doesn’t prioritize him, or MJ, who he’s been flaking on as Peter Parker to be Spiderman (even more guilt if it’s the version where the villain was after him, but he wasn’t there)

(Also it’s definitely gonna get out whoever gets visited first because there’s no way he can make to the second person before the first person realizes what terrible shape he’s in and calls over the medical staff)

[fisheito]

@requiodile EXACTLY my thoughts !!!! rei's too old and tired and will probably have to clean the loads outa his butt for the next several hours. yakumo can carry HIMSELF back home after wreaking that kind of destruction

[tonycries]

You'll Taste Me Too! - G.S.

Synopsis. How do you last three days on a work trip with the man you hate the most in the office? You don’t - you end up pinned underneath him, instead.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, office AU, enemies to lovers, jealousy (Gojo’s side), FAKE DATING, PAST Naoya x reader, creampíes, breéding, oraI (fem receiving), spítting, hot springs, cúmplay, DOWN BAD Satoru, tensíon, he’s a bit mean, revenge on your ex, ambiguous office work, exhíbitionísm, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 11.9k (this was supposed to be HALF that)

A/N. This type of annoying Gojo is always so fun to write, hope y’all have a great week <3

In all your three years as head of the marketing department, it wasn’t any of the tight deadlines or the nervous interns that drove you crazy. Hell, it wasn’t even the fact that the coffee maker in the break room only made tea. 

No, the one thing you couldn’t stand - the one thing that had you contemplating whether your transfer was really worth it - came in the form of the 6’3, cloudy-haired manchild who headed the sales department. 

The one person who’d made it his personal mission to toy with your sanity as soon as you’d stepped foot into the cleancut office of Jujutsu Enterprises. 

The bane of your existence. 

“Gojo Satoru.”

“Huh?” you gape stupidly, and if this was any other time you’d have smacked yourself for the unprofessionalism. 

Yaga nods gravely - almost sympathetic - as if he honestly couldn’t fault you for your reaction. “Yes, since this upcoming contract relies heavily on collaboration between the marketing and sales departments, Satoru here-” He nods at the tangle of long limbs that’d been draped dramatically over the seat right next to you. “-will be accompanying you on your trip to Kyoto…unfortunately.”

“What do you mean ‘accompanying’-”

“The fuck do you mean ‘unfortunately’-”

Your supervisor heaves out a tired sigh over your flurry of protests, rubbing his temples, “Look, I wouldn’t have picked out your ah- duo either. But as heads of department, you two are the best and brightest we have. And the board believes we can snag the infamous Gakuganji and his protegé easily as clients with the combination of you both.” 

“But-” you sputter out. “Can’t I go with Nanami like I usually do? Surely he’s a better option than a pompous, no-good nepo-”

“And I’d rather go alone.” Gojo cuts through smoothly, flashing a cocky wink your way. “Sorry, sweetheart, but even my charm won’t be enough to stop you from scaring that client off.”

Fuck unprofessionalism. If looks could kill, the leveled glare you shoot the man at your side is enough to bury him six feet and have you dancing on his grave already. 

You scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. Now fully facing Gojo for the first time since you’d first entered Yaga’s stuffy office, “Oh yeah, and aren’t you the one that got reprimanded for sleeping through the last company meeting we had?”

“D-did not.” his cheeks tinge with a delicate strawberry pink.

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.” you scoff, brows furrowing when you realize you’ve inched just a bit closer than appropriate. Your knees knocking against his, yet you don’t pull away out of stubborness. “What? Too embarrassed to admit your oh-so-great ‘charm’ was in the pillows?”

Almost mockingly, he’s copying your posture, tight white shirt straining over those biceps he didn’t hesitate to infuriatingly flex any time you came around. Minty breath wafting over your cheeks when he leans in to murmur lowly - just loud enough that Yaga won’t question, “No, but you would be happy to know that it is in the sheets.”

You blink, though, you can’t really be too surprised - of course, Gojo turns the conversation into something so filthy. He always does.

But before you can spit out a few venomous expletives you really would regret saying in front of Yaga, the man himself interrupts your argument with a pointed cough. “Since the chemistry is as lively as ever,” he’s deadpanning dryly. “I take it you both will be on your best behavior for these three days, and come back with a signed contract.”

Chemistry your ass. 

And though he’s addressing you both, you feel a stab of smug satisfaction when Yaga’s gaze lock with an amused Gojo’s. 

“Mhm, of course we’ll come back successful - how could you not with the star employee on this trip.” he motions airily in your direction. You stiffen, not expecting the compliment when- “And of course our cute resident hardass will be there, too.”

“You little fu-”

“Great!” Yaga claps his hands, a signal you knew meant to get the hell out of his office before he assigns more overtime. “It’s settled then, your tickets have been booked for tomorrow and I assume you both have been emailed the appropriate information?”

Nodding, you make your way to leave - and find that Gojo is waiting, glass door to the office held open for you. With a sharp click of your tongue, you bite down on whatever words come to your throat, barely out of the office before you hear a tired warning behind you, “And please don’t try to kill each other, our insurance doesn’t cover it.” 

When you’re both out in the hallway, Gojo flashes you a cocky smirk and an even cockier “You heard the man.” Pointing at his unfairly pretty features - not that you’d admit that in a million years. “After all, my face is insured but who’d want to hurt this handsome-”

“I could.” You interrupt, rolling your eyes. “Easily. And I would, too, if it wasn’t for the fact that this job pays well.” Something you say every time he prances around in your department during breaks, bragging about how you’re “all bark but no bite.”

Satoru only chuckles, raising his hands up in surrender when you continue, “Let’s just get through these three days, ace the contract, and never speak of this again. Okay?”

To your surprise, he’s grabbing one of your hands with his much larger ones - soft, you gulp, noting involuntarily. “I like what goes on in that pretty lil’ brain of yours, silly girl. Then, let’s charm the asses off that dumbass client and the board of elders~”

Everyone in the office knew of the strange little dynamic between you two - found it to be the utmost entertainment they got in the workday. But you were damned if you let it mess up this contract. 

If you two survived the entire three days, that is. 

---

You two were not surviving the entire three days - or the contract deal, for that matter. Hell, you couldn’t even survive this first day. 

“Gojo I told you.” you squint at the glossy paper. “It says platform eight. I know you can’t see without those ugly sunglasses of yours but-”

A big arm comes up suddenly behind your shoulders, snatching the train ticket clean out of your hands. Gojo lets it rest there as he exclaims, “Let me see. Now, y’know if this was me, I’d have chosen Gran class. Ichiji in finances really skimped out buying these second class seats, gonna hafta have a word with him when we get back…”

You narrow your eyes, frantically trying to push back that strange part of you that almost wanted to lean in closer to the hit of his piney, expensive cologne. “Have fun bullying him, you leech.”

To which he only responds with a syrupy giggle, “Oh, don’t worry.” And you let out a tiny gasp when he flicks your forehead softly. “You’ll be right there in first class with me. Even with that bratty attitude of yours, the ladies love those Gojo perks.”

“Mhm explains why you’ve been single for all three years I've had the misfortune of knowing you.” you hiss, eyes desperately darting about for directions to platform eight. You were going to get on this train - with or without him. Preferably without him.

So absorbed in your mission that if you didn’t know any better, you’d have said that Gojo’s words were a pitch higher than normal when he retorts with a strangled, “S-so what? Keepin’ an eye on me, sweetheart?”

And you knew the two of you definitely looked like a peculiar sight - Gojo’s dangling off of you like a ragdoll, surrounded by the few comically large suitcases that were mainly his. So much for a three-day work trip. Your face burns at the few weary salary workers that gave the two of you a very wide berth while going about their daily commutes. Fuck, you couldn’t even ask anyone for help at this point if you both looked at like some safety hazard. 

“Did you find it?” You huff when the silence lingers a bit too long - jumping when you raise your head up to find his burning stare already inches away from you. “God- I take it back, please keep those glasses on.”

“Hey!”

You’re digging your elbow into his side now, words stumbling over the other in a heated hurry, “And get- get off we’re gonna miss this-”

“It really is you, huh?”

All at once, you’re reminded that strangely it isn’t just the two of you causing ruckus in the middle of the Shinjuku station. Unfortunately. 

Any and all previous irritation at Gojo wipes away, flooding back as full, unbridled rage when you’re tearing your eyes away from the nuisance beside you to look up and-

Oh. 

Dammit, you knew you’d recognize that grating voice anywhere - and for the first time, it wasn’t Gojo’s.

“Naoya.”

“You.” 

Still didn’t even have the decency to address you properly, huh? You bite your lower lip, unaware what to say next. But luckily you didn’t have to - because Gojo is standing up straighter, features smoothing into a mask of cool appraisal when he sweeps his eyes down at the other man. 

Finally, Naoya seems to notice him. Flickering quickly between the arm still firmly around your shoulder and his darkened stare. “And who are you?”

“Could ask ya the same thing, two-tone.” he smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. And you swear you could feel the soft pads of his fingers tightening, digging in through your silky work shirt. “What business do you have with us?”

Us - you didn’t miss the emphasis. 

Evidently, Naoya didn’t either, because his tone turns into a low, dangerous simper as he continues. “What? Can’t a man come up just to catch up with a fling?”

Gojo’s jaw clenches as he watches you register the word. Fling. Sure, after about a year of dating, the two of you didn’t have the cleanest break up - with the constant fights and him wanting to uproot your life and dream career with his new job transfer. But still. 

“Of course, he can.” Gojo raises a snowy brow, buttons on his shirt straining when he puffs his chest out ever-so-slightly. You can’t help but notice that he has much more than a few inches on your ex. Gruffing out, “But not when she’s with her new boyfriend.”

Boyfriend?

You freeze the word running around over and over in your hazy mind - boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend-

“And trust me, she’s long forgotten your sorry ass.” You’re jolting back to reality only when you feel the slow, soothing glide of Gojo’s thumb at the exposed skin of your shoulder. He looks down at you with that familiar mirthful smile to say, “Isn’t that right, my girl?”

“Ah uh-” you’re mentally kicking yourself for not choosing to attend those acting lessons in college for extra credit. Coughing out what you hope to be a believable, “Yeah, this is G-Satoru, my- my boyfriend.”

But your coworker takes it all in concerning stride, pulling you flush against his toned chest, rumbling with the muse of “Mhm, and we’re very happy together.” You honestly feel like you’re about to fall weakly to your knees right then and there in the station when you feel the distinct pressure of two soft, plump lips grazing fleetingly at your forehead. Murmuring into your hairline, “Going on a couples’ trip to Kyoto this very moment, in fact.”

“I see.” Naoya levels out, and by the sharp glint in his eyes you already knew the gears on his head were turning. But before you could question him any further, the melodic voice of the railway announcer cuts through the tense air. “Ah- that’s me. And as pleasant as this reunion was, Kurama onsen doesn’t wait.” Before clapping a hand on the shoulder of the uncharacteristically silent Gojo stood by your side, “I wish you the best with your relationship, she’s only good the first few times after all.” His next words are cold and directed at you. “I’ll text ya, if you still don’t have me blocked, that is.” 

Saved by the train - and your fist gripping onto Gojo’s button-up, Naoya saunters to climb aboard the train currently entering the nearby platform. 

Leaving the both of you in that whirling, unfamiliar silence. Gojo’s arm is still burning around your shoulder, your muscles still aching from stopping him from powerfully lunging after the other man.

You break first. 

“Why…why did you do that.” you mutter over the bustling crowds - more to yourself than him, so you’re surprised when he responds just as hastily. 

“It’s just- Because he was a dick.” Gojo’s lips form a petulant pout. He decidedly avoids your probing eyes while he plows on, “And I should be the only one allowed to be a dick to you so don’t get it twisted, silly girl.”

You scoff, before your eyes widen at where Noaya was boarding through the doors of the sleek bullet train, “Wait- Gojo-”

“Satoru, think I deserve to be called ‘Satoru’ after that.” he grins irritatingly. “Consider it a payment since it’ll kill ya to say it every time.”

“Yes yes, S-Satoru-” you wave off, but you can’t deny how easily the name rolls off your tongue. And distinctly, you wondered why you called most of your coworkers by first name, but never him before. “He’s going to Kurama onsen.”

Gojo tilts his head, nose scrunching in confusion. “And?”

“We’re going to Kurama onsen.”

---

For all the disaster the first day had wrecked upon your sanity, you were thankful enough that neither of you were sat in the same area as Naoya. Barely even settling into your cushioned seat before putting on your headphones - and a sleeping mask for good measure so you couldn’t be riled up by your coworker again. 

Surprisingly he didn’t try either. Only bothering you to share his snacks occasionally, and hog the arm space on your chair, electricity running down your skin every time he brushed up against you. 

It was quiet, somehow neither of you minded. 

“Hah- are we- woah.” you gasp out after the short walk from the Kyoto station to your destination, an intricate wooden sign coming into view. Lugging your baggage with you - Gojo had insisted he carry it too as a show of strength, but you were sure it’s because he just wanted to give up halfway through and take a taxi instead. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah yeah I get that a lot.” Gojo comes up behind you without warning, a sultry trickle of sweat trailing down his forehead to the forbidden depths of where he’d unbuttoned his shirt a few times. “But usually it’s ‘gorgeous’ or ‘hot as hell’ or-”

“Oh, shut up.” you breathe, ripping your eyes away and towards the reception. “Get your ass moving now, we’ve gotta get checked in and form a game plan for the meeting.”

“That eager to get me in a bed? Always knew ya had it in you, sweetheart.” Oh, he lets out a shiver at your blazingly dirty look. “I mean- yes, ma’am.”

There aren’t too many visitors, and you choose to do the talking when you walk up to the sweet older lady at the reception, having decided that Gojo has done way too much of that for today. Humming, “Hi there, we’re here for two rooms reserved under the name ‘Yaga’?”

A few taps of her keyboard and she’s flashing you a megawatt smile, “Oh yes, you’re right on time!” Before getting up from her seat, “I’ll be the one escorting the young couple to their honeymoon suite. Just this way-”

And while Gojo breezes past you without a single complaint, you stand frozen in the middle of the cozy wooden room. Reaching out a hand to sputter, “W-wait, surely there must be some mistake? Honeymoon suite?”

Gojo is close enough that he whispers something in her ear, and you already know it doesn’t bode well for you at all. 

“Oh honey don’t worry.” she flutters a flustered hand at you. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with having your dear boyfriend here spend a bit extra on a comfy suite. Either way, it has been booked for a while now and unfortunately nothing can be changed…”

Forgetting yourself, you sneak a glance over at where she had left her desktop on. The tiny letters on screen confirming that yes, this reservation was under the name Yaga. And no, it wasn’t a mistake that the room you were given was a honeymoon suite. 

“Get your ass movin’ now.” Gojo’s voice snaps you out of your little reverie, sounding as if he was on the verge of bursting into laughter while he mocks your earlier words. He grins, “When life gives you lemons- or when Yaga gives you a honeymoon suite…”

---

“Dibs not on the couch.”

“Dibs not on the- wait, no.” Gojo huffs when you’re finally led to your sprawling room, and for all the scandal of it being a honeymoon suite, you have to admit that Yaga had great taste. “Shouldn’t you treat your boyfriend better?”

You’re splaying yourself out on the plush mattress of the bed - the only bed, because of course the universe doesn’t bestow you with a normal work trip. But god none of those cheap motels at the trips you’d gone on with Nanami or Shoko could ever compare to this. 

Mindfully, you push away the rose petals decorating the silken sheets. “Not my problem.” Jutting a thumb towards the small private hot spring allocated for your room outside, “Sleep in the onsen. Might wanna hurry though, it’s getting dark.”

“Please?” 

“I’m kicking you out of this room altogether.”

“Pretty please.”

You feel a rush of begrudging endearment at the way he’s batting his long lashes at you. Suddenly, you’re wondering whether this is why so many at the office can’t get enough of Gojo - why everyone flocks to him as soon as he waltzes into your department for no apparent reason. Struggling to stand firm. “Hasn’t Nanami told you before that adding ‘pretty’ doesn’t work?”

Grumbling, he sets down the bags, swiftly turning around to call out, “Fine, but m’takin’ a shower first, so you better keep any expensive shampoos away or m’stealing with no regrets.”

Mind dizzy with everything from today, it’s all you can do to shuffle through your bag for your laptop. Trembling fingers deciding that if you weren’t going to think too deeply about this, might as well get some work done. 

It’s what you do for a while - to partial success - until you’re pulled out of your spiels of presentations and trying to keep Gojo’s script on subject by the sound of the running water stopping, and the bathroom door clicking open. 

And lo and behold - there stood Gojo. Shirtless. 

The very same asshole that would throw paper clips at you during meetings, and always finished off the last muffin in the break room he knew you’d been eyeing all day. Here he stood - all sharp hip bones and smooth curves of muscle that were always poorly covered by his work clothes. 

Covering almost all of the bathroom doorway with his broad shoulders, speckled with glistening droplets of water that danced tauntingly down, down, down the sharp planes of his collarbones. Down his abs, and onto a trail of white, hidden by a fluffy white towel you have to force your eyes away from. 

“Put some- put some clothes on. You- you-” you’re scrambling urgently for something near you, which unfortunately happened to be a soft cotton you’d pulled out from your bag earlier. “-you lecher.”

Wordlessly, Gojo’s stunned surprise breaks into a brilliant grin when he unfolds the canon of cloth you’d thrown his way. Humming, “You call me a lecher, but you’re the one that wants to see me in your clothes, huh?”

And sure enough - it was. It was as if the universe was playing a practical joke on you because it was your favorite t-shirt, in fact, that ragged Bleach graphic held gently between Gojo’s long, pale fingers. 

You choke out, hastily getting off the bed. “Wait- I take it back.”

“I don’t know.” Gojo teases, holding the t-shirt well over your head. And all you can do is frantically reach and swerve for it, each attempt dodged with a shit-eating grin. “You get the bed, I get this ratty t-shirt, seems like a fair trade to me, no?”

“No.”

Gojo’s face is hovering so close above yours, though, he still keeps the t-shirt safely away from you. “Then I guess this is f’me, silly girl.”

You groan, appreciating the way his breath catches in his throat when you hook an arm around his neck. Reeling him in so close while you still swipe, “No, but what you are going to get is-”

What Gojo was going to get, he never finds out. Because in your frantic effort to steal back the t-shirt you so desperately didn’t want in the hands of the bastard from sales, you don’t pay attention to that slippery pool of water forming around you two from his half-assed attempts at drying off. 

And before you know it, you’re lurching to the floor - you wince, arms held out to break your fall and-

It never happens.

Blinking your eyes open, the first thing you’re met with is what seems like miles upon miles of milky, smooth skin. Breathing in such a heady scent, it’s probably what makes your mind so melty when the realization hits you - a little too late - that you’re being held against Gojo’s chest. 

His painfully bare chest. 

“Satoru?” you breathe. Pawing at where you could feel his racing heartbeat, thumping so painfully against one of his pecs. “Are- are you okay?”

That gets you a hot laugh into your neck, followed by a long, drawn-out shudder that sends shivers down your spine. Through laughs, he manages to grit out, “You’re asking me that?”

He sounds surprised - relieved almost. Such a tender note in his tone at the lack of usual taunting in your words. 

Gojo lets you go - barely, still keeping two strong arms locked around your waist like he was afraid even the slightest distance could have you in danger all over again. “You can take the t-shirt.” He breathes, picking up the damp fabric now fallen onto the floor and pressing it into your palms. “I’m more of a Naruto guy anyway. And you can take the bed, I was jok-”

“You can take it.” 

“What? No-”

“You can.” you cut him off, giving a sidelong glance at the cramped couch tucked into a corner of your suite. Again, you’re drinking in all of him, how tall he was. How warm. How he’d probably have half his body dangling off the side of the cushions, “We can- I mean we can share. We’re adults, right? Wouldn’t want you complaining about a sore back during the contract talks anyway.”

“Worrying about me, sweetheart?” 

“No.” you scowl, pushing him away. “Now excuse you, but I have to use the bathroom since someone was hogging it earlier.”

And if you’d waited just a moment longer - maybe peaked your head out instead of scurrying inside as fast as your legs carried you - you’d have noticed that Gojo was still standing there. A fist clenched at where his heart was, face as pink as those blooming sakura outside. 

---

You didn’t sleep that night. Not one bit. 

It might partially have to do with the fact that your bed was invaded by one very gangly asshole sprawling himself all over the pillow wall you’d constructed. Or maybe to do with the aching discomfort in your joints after moving to sleep on the hard couch after only a few minutes of him getting knocking out. 

“Good morning~” Gojo’s sing-song voice rings through your verging murderous thoughts on the second day. “The sun is shining, my skin is glowing and-” His bleary eyes lock on your hunched figure across the room, looking genuinely confused as to how you got here. “-you’re on the couch?” 

“Yeah. Considered taking ya out in your sleep but then I realized the contract would be in jeopardy.”

He whines, “I’ve- I’ve never had anyone complain before.”

“They probably ran away before that.” you nod solemnly over his sputtering complaints. Stretching, content with the pop of your bones. “Don’t look at me like that, it wasn’t that bad.”

You look away when Gojo mimics your actions, sleep shirt lifting to reveal a sliver of white tufts at the hem of his boxers. He pouts, sulky eyes still locked on you, “But still, should’ve kicked me out. I would’ve expected you to instead of taking that shitty couch. Seems like something that guy would do.”

Your heart pangs - just a bit - and you let out a sharp laugh, “Fine, I’ll kick you out tonight. Maybe.” It’s genuine, it really is, and in the growing silence all Gojo can manage to do is fall back into your little familiar dance of teasing.

“Going soft on me? Y’know it’s usually the ladies crawling into my bed not out of it-” 

“Oh fuck you. I take it back, I will kick you out of the room itself. Have fun sleeping in the onsen, you smug bastard.”

He squawks in protest when you throw a cushion at him. Several, actually, just for good measure. “Mercy, woman! I’m delicate!”

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

When Gojo falls back into the comfort of the silky soft sheets, you heave out a sigh. Making your way to the sliding doors, still fully expecting a flustered employee telling you that this was all a mistake and of course, you two weren’t booked for the honeymoon suite. 

“Yes?” you answer, eyes widening when you spot that familiar man in front of you. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh god, it’s you.” Naoya spits, gaze heating up. “Of course, I should’ve known it’s you and that idiot boyfriend of yours makin’ so much noise next door.”

Great. Perfect. Wonderful. As if this trip couldn’t get any better. 

You pinch your nose, echoing hollowly, “What do you want?”

“Exactly that. Don’t make so much noise, neighbor. I don’t care what limp dick he’s giving you-” 

“Is that all?” you ask dryly, fully knowing there’s more he’s just aching to hurl at you. Before tucking yourself further behind the door, “If that’s all then I hafta go back to that ‘limp dick’.”

“What’s this about limp dick?” Goosebumps run along your arms when you feel something soft - hot - push up from behind you. From the corner of your eye, you spy a long milky hand flex as Gojo - shirtless - cages you in the doorway, “Because it sure can’t be mine then. Won’t you agree, my girl?”

Your face burns at the knowing wink Gojo throws your way, barely managing to hasten, “Uh- yeah.”

“She doesn’t sound very convinced.” Naoya narrows his eyes at your minute expressions, knowing you uncomfortably well after so long. “Guess she’s been missing a real man, huh?”

He scoffs, and you gulp heavily when soft lips kiss a gentle trail up the side of your neck, “Well who’s the one that’s been makin’ her scream all mornin’?” Gojo tilts his head innocently, blatantly showing off a ruddy splotch from where you’d attacked him with a cushion earlier, the zipper leaving a suspicious mark. “Like I said at the train station, she can make her own choices and she’s long forgotten your sorry ass so don’t even try it, you two-toned little bastard.”

Wrapping a possessive arm around your waist, you’re easily tugged back into the safety of your suite - and into Gojo’s sculpted front. You don’t push him away as your immediate thought was to, the feeling was right - too right.

“Satoru?” you hiss once the door is slammed shut.

“Hm?” he whispers hotly into the crook of your neck. 

Still pressed up so close that you can feel the surge and dip of his chest when he breathes you in deeply. “Why are you shirtless?”

“Uh- did I ever tell you I was a method actor, sweetheart?”

---

Unfortunately, despite being in one of the most picturesque hotspots that Kyoto had to offer, a work trip - especially one with such a high profile client and his protegé - meant that the two of you spent most of the day cooped up in your room, typing away on your laptops. 

“Ugh, this sucks.” Gojo groans for about the seventh time this hour. Running a hand tiredly through his hair, “Are you always such a hardass about contracts like this? Honestly, I can’t even feel my legs and it is not in the good way-”

“You pussy.” you grumble as you chug down another can of coffee, eyes flickering to the clock at the end of the room reading 11:00PM. “You don’t see me complaining.” 

He only scoffs, “Of course ya wouldn’t complain, this shit probably gets you off. But unfortunately for those of us that have lives-” 

You click your tongue, rubbing the oncoming headache that always seems to appear when you’re near Gojo. “Yeah, because talkin’ out of your ass and being a public nuisance is such a great life.”

“C’mon now, I see you picking at that blanket - my blanket, by the way - like it insulted your entire bloodline. You’re not slick, you wanna get outta here too.” At your pointed silence, he’s kicking his legs in the air, very much the toddler you knew him to be. “That’s- that’s it I can’t-”

Before you can react, Gojo is barrelling through the sliding doors of your suite. Long legs carrying up the short pathway that led to that private hot spring.

You’re following him before you realize it, “What- what are you- oh!”

You couldn’t cover your eyes fast enough. Being gifted with a brief, obscene eyeful of pale skin - leading all the way down his naked back, and even further when he cannonballs straight into the pool of water. 

Shit, maybe this was why the others at the office loved him so much. 

And it was hard not to understand it when Gojo’s drenched head poked out from under the hot water. White strands plastered to his forehead, a blush creeping down his skin at the head, looking at you with slightly-red, damp eyes that only seemed bluer through the steam.

“Yeah yeah I know I didn’t rinse before and I know I didn’t finish our project yet but-” he grins a grin that you don’t think you could ever forget. And you don’t know whether how hot you feel is from the onsen or him. Reaching out a soaked, strong arm towards you. “-won’t you help me get out?”

You startle, clearly not having expected this request. Narrowing your eyes suspiciously as you inch closer, “Get out?” He nods eagerly, fingers intertwining softly with yours. “Fine but-”

Whatever scream you might’ve let out is swallowed up by water- then air. 

Then more very deserved yelling, of course. “Satoru what the fuck-” Your nails dig into his deltoids, sure to leave some very questionable marks but you didn’t care at this moment. Wiping away the water in your face while he holds you up easily, “I’m gonna kill you.”

“Yeah yeah, can’t kill me when you’re clinging to me like this, sweetheart.” Gojo rolls his eyes, but he makes no move to push you off. In fact, he only tightens the arm around your hips. “You looked like you needed that, the 8 hours of straight working like Yaga was havin’ you act like him.”

Somehow, you don’t feel strange about the fact that you’re being pushed up against a very painfully naked Gojo. Living out what is probably the wet dream for about half the office.

He notices, of course he does. 

“Trynna take a peek?” Gojo wiggles his brows. And when you’re trying to hide away behind your hands, he nuzzles them away, arms a bit too occupied holding you captive. Sighing dramatically, “No need to be shy, many people do. I don’t mind of course, ah the woes of being fucking hot.”

Gasping, “Fuck you.” Unbeknownst as to why, you’re laughing. Contemplating whether you should really give him a good kick down below when you choke out, “You’re an asshole, y’know?”

“I know.” he smiles. “N’ yet you still haven’t drowned me.”

“I really fuckin’ hate you.”

Why could you really fucking kiss him right now? 

“I know.”

The moment is broken only a few seconds later by some ungodly screeching you recognize to be none other than your beloved ex’s from next door. Yelling about “Shut the fuck up, if you’re gonna have onsen sex I’m calling the front lobby.”

“What? Can’t a man fuck his girl in peace?” Gojo shouts back. “Shut up just because your puny dick can’t get some, two-tone.”

That broke whatever magical spell was put on the two of you, obviously. And you were the first to run back to the suite - leaving Gojo and his nakedness alone. Very, very alone. 

He takes a bit longer to follow you, and you’re already freshened up and in bed by the time he makes his way to the bathroom - with clothes this time, fortunately for your sanity. 

Only a few minutes later, he’s nestling right next to you on the bed. You gasp in a sharp inhale at the heat of his proximity, mere millimeters away from you now. 

“Good work today, by the way.” Gojo gruffs out to your turned back, quiet words carrying over that ridiculous extra-vaulted wall of pillows, padded up with ones from the couch, too. Silver tongue stumbling over his words slightly, “For how much I complained I didn’t get to tell ya. You and I - mainly I - are gonna ace that contract tomorrow.”

There’s no taunting in his tone, not one bit. And you surprise the both of you when you murmur out shakily, “I’m worried.”

“Huh?” he chokes in disbelief. “Listen, I know I slept through that meeting one time, but I swear it was only one time. I’m a…somewhat changed man, I promise I won’t-”

“Not that.”

He pauses at your interruption. All is quiet - only the chirping of crickets outside, and the steamy buzz of nearby hot springs. 

And for the first time in the twenty-something years Gojo Satoru has wreaked havoc upon this Earth, he is rendered speechless. Wordlessly picking apart your wall of pillows - one by one, as if to give you more than enough time to stop him - to loop two strong arms around you. 

“Shut up.” he breathes. “You’ll do brilliant, silly girl.”

---

Gojo remembers the exact date he met you - probably the exact time, too. Honestly, even three whole years after that initial meeting, he can’t remember anything but that, if you asked him to recall a single meeting held that week then Gojo honestly wouldn’t have been able to tell you. 

It was a regular day spent driving poor Nanami over in the marketing department dangerously close to his fifth migraine of the day.

“You know I know I’m a valuable asset to this company Nanamin.” he chuckles, looking over where the other man was readying a sparkly Welcome! banner. “But this is all too much even for me~”

“It’s not for you.” Nanami spits, curtly. Barely sparing Gojo a glance before readying the welcome muffins, “It’s for the new head of department arriving soon today.”

And oh that piqued his interest like never before. That had all thoughts of the meeting he was currently missing flying out the window as he wondered what you would be like. Swiping away a few of those tempting muffins right out of Ichiji’s hands, he wonders. Would you be another Ichiji? Would you try and keep him under your thumb like Yaga? Hah, you could try but-

“Look I don’t know if the sales department doesn’t have food but, really?” 

What?

A shudder wracks through the oh-so-great Gojo’s body at the sound of your cool, firm tone turning to meet the source and-

Oh. Oh wow. So that’s what it’s like to have your soul impaled and buried six feet under.

It was sort of addicting.

And if Gojo thought his knees were weak at just a gorgeous glare from you - well, he was completely and utterly unprepared for when he leaned in closer to where you stood firmly. Shielding a pale, trembling Ichiji. And, honestly, with a death stare like that you couldn’t blame a guy for getting nervous! It’s all he could do to hum out a cocky, “What? Want some, sweetheart?”

“Sweetheart? What I want is you out of my department.” you furrow your brows. “Now.”

It’s all that’s said before you’re dragging him by his hand out - and, shit Gojo is so riveted by how soft your hands are that he almost forgets to be offended by the way the entire marketing department just watches and giggles at the scene playing out before them. Traitors.

You push him out of the door, “I better not see you coming back to toy with my new employees-” Heavy gaze flickering down to his name tag. “-Gojo.”

Ah, truly a woman of his dreams. 

And it honestly still felt like a dream even now - especially now - when you’re stood in front of him on the third day in Kyoto. Fingers messing meticulously with your hair as you check your reflection in the mirror, smoothing down your new red dress. “God, I hope it isn’t too much. How do I look?”

Perfect, he wants to say. 

But instead he nudges your shoulder in the booth of your seat, settling for an obnoxious, “Alright, not as good as me, though.” Gojo takes delight in the way you give his arm a punch, smile a lot easier than before now. 

“As if, you can’t even tie this properly. Here-” your fingers fiddle deftly with his slightly crooked tie. “Fixed it, you big baby.”

He grins, “If you wanted to get your hands on me then you should’ve- oh wait you already have, haven’t you? I remember that someone bypassed her own lil’ pillow wall last night.”

“Shut up.” you give him a tight warning. “They’re here.”

Honestly, there was only one thing worse than seeing old Gakuganji - that is, the sight of his sniveling protegé following him right after. Except- 

“Two-tone?” 

“Y-you!”

There’s a tense silence between the three of you in the exquisite onsen dining hall, one that almost makes you want to jump up and bolt back to your room because this can’t be real. Surely, this can’t be-

“I see the three of you are already acquainted?” Gakuganji’s strained, aged voice cuts through your whirlwind of thoughts. “Sit, sit, Naoya. That only makes things easier.”

As a fuming Naoya and an oblivious Gakuganji take their seats in front of the two of you, you feel the undeniable pressure of long, warm fingers squeezing your own. Reassuring. And it makes you flash the two men your best, most polished business smile, “So, about the contract.”

---

“I’m going to throw up.”

“Satoru.”

“No, I will throw up. And that will not be good for my reputation.”

“Satoru, if you throw up I’m beating your ass.”

He narrows his eyes at your heated whisper, matching you with a low, “Damn keep it for the bedroom sweetheart. We still hafta wait till Gakuganji comes back with his decision.” 

“Ahem!”

It’s that annoyed, grating faux cough that drags you and Gojo out of your little world - back to reality in which no, unfortunately while your primary client has gone off to take an important business call regarding your contract, you were left to babysit his protegé.

“Yes, Naoya.” you give him a dry grin. It was nearing well into late night at this point, and most of the other visitors had cleared out except for the reserved table you were sitting in. “Do you want to be beat up, too?”

He only points an accusing finger at the two of you, “Don’t play games with me you hear. I’ve already got you figured out, coming here on a business trip and dating your coworker all the same-” Both you and Gojo raise a brow at this, what an idiot. “-you two will be fired for this.”

You catch Gojo’s eye and try not to burst out laughing, “As if. And trust me, I wouldn’t be here if I knew that you were Gakuganji’s new protegé.”

“Not because the guy you have to be here with is the same one you told me you hated back then?” he spits. “Honestly, you’d have been better off with me than this ‘pompous, no-good nepo baby asshole’ as you loved to put it.”

And you knew that Gojo was aware of your little rivalry - hell, he was an active participant, more than happy to rile you up every time. But that still didn’t stop you from tensing up when you spared a glance at the man beside you. 

Surprised to see that unapologetic smirk on his face, “Of course she did.” Looking down at you with what you swore was such unimaginably deep fondness in his eyes. “I probably imagine she told you all the funny ways she wanted to get back at me, too? Banning me from the marketing department? Holding an anti-Gojo campaign? Strangling?” Gojo takes Naoya’s shocked silence as enough of an answer, “Guess what, she did hate me, probably still can’t stand me. Very understandably so, because she’s hot as fuck when she’s mad.”

Despite his furrowed brow and the angry slash of his mouth, Naoya can’t stop himself from blurting out, “W-well how did you-”

“We fuck it out, of course.”

And perhaps for the one time on this entire trip, the universe smiles down at you. You find yourself sighing in relief at the sight of Gakuganji nearing your table, evidently done with his phone call. Thank fuck, you weren’t ready for a fight to break out and this dress was too expensive to ruin. 

“Seems you three are getting along well.” the old man drones out, and by the tone of his voice you genuinely can’t tell whether he was joking or not. Turning towards you and Gojo, “Well, after that very thorough presentation and careful consideration with the board at our Kyoto branch, we have all come to a unanimous decision.” You wait with bated breath for his next few words, “Where do we sign?”

Naoya stands in his seat, “But- but, sir.” He cringes, as furious as the last time you’d seen him a year ago. “You can’t sign off on this deal- not with these scumming, absolute little shits.”

“Naoya.” Gakuganji’s voice carries a warning. “You are dismissed.”

Ah, Gojo chuckles inwardly, exactly where he wanted him. 

It seemed like a blur after that - a blur of signed contracts and Gojo making faces at an ashen-faced Naoya behind Gakuganji’s back, of being told that the two of you simply “must visit” their offices in Kyoto one day - much to your exes absolute torture. To which Gojo had replied with a smug, “Of course, my girlfriend and I will. Won’t we, sweetheart?” Just loud enough that Naoya - who’d been banned to a nearby table - could fume over. 

And it’s how you found yourself pulling a giggly Gojo by his lapels back to your suite, hasty and desperate. Tripping over one another as you stumble in. 

“Easy there on the merchandise, sweetheart.” he jests, but it sounds so strained even to him. “Can’t break our streak and kill each other on the last day now, can we?”

Your laughter dies down, “Hey, Satoru?”

“Oh no…”

“Why did you call me your girlfriend even at the end back then?”

His brows scrunch up, pleading almost. He chokes out, “Just- you- I just-” Flicking a calculated finger right in the middle of your forehead, “You think too much, did you know that? Hate to see this pretty face like this, did you see his reaction?”

“Oh my god yes did you see his face, Satoru?” you’re pressing him against the wall to steady yourselves. Feeling so drunk off the evening and him. “Naoya looked like he was going to explode right then and there. We did so good.”

“What did I tell, ya? I always know everything, silly girl.” Two big arms wrap around yours in a congratulatory hug - or, at least, what you think is a congratulatory hug. And if his palms dip just a bit lower than your waist - if this was just a bit inappropriate - neither of you say anything. “Mhm. Don’t even know what you dated that fool in the first place, he’s not even in your league.” 

You scoff, “Gee thanks.”

“No no, not in that way, don’t ever think in that way, stupid.” A long index comes up to tilt your chin up to meet his greedy gaze. “You’re too gorgeous for him. Besides, he spoke like a man who couldn’t even find the clit.”

“Well- he did find it.” you relish in that deepening furrow of Gojo’s brow, the way the muscles in his jaw tick just right. “But wanna hear a secret?” Those soft baby hair at the nape of his neck raise when you’re whispering in his ear, barely even waiting for his dazed nod. “He still never made me cum.”

“...Never?”

“Never.”

There’s a beat of silence, one. Two. 

Shit. 

You’d long expected Gojo’s smart mouth to make some kind of insulting joke by now. And you’re halfway through wondering whether you’d overshared too much, untangling your arms from his vice-like embrace before-

“I would.” he rasps, breaths ragged. You’re tilting your head in confusion when he repeats cockily, “I would’ve made you cum, y’know. How could I not?”

There’s a snarky little part of you that makes you quick a brow, a sultry smirk playing on your lips. “Is that an offer?”

Gojo’s arms loop around you tight - almost too tight, you could almost hear your poor bones popping in protest. “It’s a promise.”

Oh that’s all you wanted to hear right about now. And he can fucking see the goosebumps that make their way down your exposed shoulders, he can practically hear that syrupy sweet tone that was really not good for his sanity. 

“Prove it, Satoru.”

His lips are crashing against yours like they’re magnetized - and it’s nothing like what you’d imagine kissing Gojo Satoru would’ve been like. Nothing suave, shallow. It’s sloppy, a mess of teeth and lips and his tongue tasting every inch of your candied lips like he couldn’t get enough. Like he didn’t even want to breathe for fear of losing out on your pretty mouth. 

“Fuck-” Gojo hisses, delicate strings of spit snapping as he pulls away ever-so-slightly to take in the delicious sight of you all glossy eyed with swollen lips. “Fuck you’re so beautiful. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

Kissing you over and over like he couldn’t get enough. Like he didn’t want to get enough, you’re moaning when Gojo slips his tongue past the seam of your lips. Addicted to the distinct taste of him and those cheap cherry lollipops you always caught him sucking on in the break room.

He’s drawing back in a way that has him drinking in your soft noises, big palms kneading your body over your dress. 

“Sa- Sato-” you’re gasping out when he flips you over to press you up against the wall. Assaulting your bruised lips with heated peck after peck. “What do you- mean-”

He groans, lips moving to kiss down the quivering column of your throat, “Shut up- Just shut up and kiss me. God, for how much I love that mouth of yours, you talk way too much, sweetheart.”

And that was really rich coming from him - but you don’t get to snark back at him. Because no sooner are the words out of your mouth that Gojo decides he’s had enough of playing nice - that is, if he was in the first place. 

Immediately fiddling towards that cold metal zipper in the back, gliding down the red fabric right along with your bra- shit, when did he even unclip it?

“You-” you sputter, the cool chill of the bedroom pebbles your sensitive nipples. The dawning feeling that this absolute thorn at your side might be much more than just talk has your thighs pressing together. Leveling him with a narrow look, “You are such a whore, aren’t you?”

He flashes you a sheepish grin, large palms groping your tits. “Would ya believe me if I told you it was from how many times I’d imagined this before?”

“Absolutely not.”

This earns you a sharp smack! gifted onto the fat of your ass, the five pads of Gojo’s fingers burning onto where your dress was hiking up. 

“Always need to talk back, don’t you?” he spits, shoving a knee between your two legs. Such an innocently handsome grin splashing across his face at the soft moan you let out, grinding purposefully against that damp mound of your needy cunt. “Why won’t you ever hah- believe me?” He has one hand shoving your dress down, down, down. The other dragging your sloppy hips down his muscled thigh, “You wanna hear a secret? Stick your tongue out f’me like a good girl now, sweetheart.” 

And oh you wanted to fight back. To outright refuse to comply so brattily, but it’s all you can do to nod blearily, feeling so fucking dirty with the way you’re letting your tongue loll out. Whining when Gojo smushes your cheeks together into an obscene pucker, into the perfect target for him to spit once. Twice. 

“Yeah, take it- that’s my girl. A secret for a secret, right?” Gojo smiles so darkly, swiping away that thick splatter of syrupy saliva dredged up on the corner of your mouth. Intentional, of course. His words are low but clear, unable to have you mistaking them for anything else when he says, “That time I slept through the whole meeting? Wasn’t sleepin’.”  He bites down on your earlobe, licking lightly. “S’just, I happened to see that cute new skirt you were wearing that day, it was so short- so fuckin’ tight. Couldn’t bear to show my face, not after I’d just spent the past few hours with my hand wrapped around my cock, wondering all the sweet things I could do to you in it.”

You’re gasping, “You’re so fucking filthy.”

“Yeah yeah.” he purrs, toying with the hem of your now dress, the red cloth now dangling somewhere at your thighs. “And don’t pretend you’re not just as dirty, hardass. Actin’ all prudish when ya dress like this underneath.”

As if to prove his point, the back of one of his fingers is gliding across where your lacy black panties were peeking out. Groaning at the sopping wet fabric, “Yeah, just as dirty as I thought.”

With his little hypothesis confirmed, it’s all that Gojo has to do to pick you up with one arm hooking under your already trembly thighs. You’re keening when he plants another solid smack on the fat of your ass, “Satoru!”

“Ohh, I love that. Say it again.” he murmurs, walking slowly to the edge of your shared bed. Savoring that feeling of your drooling cunt seeping through to paint a small dark patch on his suit. “I said, say it again.”

All it takes is another harsh slap against your ass, and a honeyed drag of Gojo’s name for him to splay you out like some slut on the soft silken sheets. You find yourself pulling him back by his broad shoulders when he takes the moment to admire just how gorgeous you looked. Even better than any daydream that mind of his could think of. 

“Sa-toru-” you mewl, and he only licks his lips as if in a daze. Not knowing where to look - at that needy, already-cockdrunk glaze over your eyes, at the way your flimsy dress wrapped around the plush of your thighs, at that glistening little patch on the plump mound of your cunt. So mouthwatering. “Satoru- Sa- Toru!”

That makes him snap out of his little hypnosis. “What did you call me?” he breathes. 

You bat your lashes deceivingly innocently up at him, “Sato-”

“No.” he’s cutting you off, Adam’s apple bobbing with the heavy gulp he takes. Thumbing at your puffy lips as if to drag the same words out of you - have them going straight to his achy cock once more. “That other one. Don’t play stupid with me, silly girl, you know exactly what I’m talking about.” 

Oh, you did. 

And you’re feeling the way your dripping pussy clenches with anticipation when you whine out that little nickname once more. “Toru, please.” Adding a little flair to have Gojo’s rosy lips fall into a soft oh! choking on a ragged low hiss when a hand of his subconsciously goes down to squeeze his bulging erection. 

“Oh yes, m’name sounds so fuckin’ cute on your lips.” he groans. The sheets below you two rustling with movement when he shuffles urgently downwards, “Sounds so fucking good it makes me wanna-” 

RIP!

“-know if she sounds it out just as pretty as you.”

You’re still reeling from the tatters of what remained of your favorite red dress being thrown unapologetically onto the tatami mats below. Huffing in irritation, “Satoru, if you’re ngh- dead if you don’t replace that-”

He’s shutting you up with another quiet smack onto your heated skin - this time at your shamefully spread inner thighs, the edges of his padded fingers just barely touching on your swollen folds. “Yeah yeah, I’ll buy ya the whole fuckin’ store if I have to.” Before hovering so close you could feel every hitch of his hot breath on your beading cunt, “And m’gonna make it so you don’t dare call me that again.”

You don’t have a response to that - and anything you might’ve taunted back is being knocked out of your mouth. The only thing leaving it being slurred little whimpers of Gojo’s name when he licks a long, languid stripe up your puffy slit. 

“Oh, look at that.” he chuckles. Pushing apart your thighs to get a nice greedy look at every drop of your sweet sweet juices glistening in the dim lighting. “Think she’s more mouthy than you, if tha’s even possible, heh.”

His long, eager tongue is slurping up every syrupy drop of your slick. Again. And again. And again and again and-

“Fuck- Toru.” your fingers find their way weaving into his soft strands when the very tip of his soft tongue finds its way just past your folds. Arching your spine off the plush bed needily like some slut, “Need you to- hngh- go deeper.”

The only response you’re getting is a sultry, smug grin being spread across your pussy lips. Feeling everything from the quirk of his cupid’s bow, to that dimple at the edge of Gojo’s smirk, “Knew you were needy, but this- this is fucking amazing.”

“Guess you’re all bark no bite, huh?” you pout, voice teetering into teasingly whiny. And oh how you love the way that wipes all the cockiness from Gojo’s face. “Even Naoya was able to actually eat me out the way I-”

It’s like it killed him to hear those goading words from you - and something snaps before he’s shoving that pretty face of his back nose-deep into your addictive pussy. 

Slotting his tongue up and down your hot slit. Up and down up and down up and-

“F-fuck, oh Toru-” you squeal when he wastes no time pushing past that snug little ring of resistance to reach deep into your gummy walls. Barely even giving you any warning - Gojo’s eyes roll to the back of his head at how sinfully tight you were squeezing him. “Shit how are you in so deep-”

And that petty, petty little part of him doesn’t answer, instead gliding up a determined thumb up to draw methodical circles on your throbbing clit. Fast. So so sloppy with the way he was letting your juices dribble past his knuckles, his wrist, forming a glossy sheen all the way down to the sheets. Matching the ruthless cadence of the way he was fucking your ravaged cunt the way he wished he could do with his rock-hard cock right now. 

“Ah!” you gasp, when one swipe of his tongue sends jolts of pure white-hot pleasure running up your spine. And that’s all Gojo has to hear before he’s attacking your hidden sweet spot over and over. “F-fuck s’too good. Fuckin’ hate how your big mouth is- ngh- so good at this-”

That causes a husky rasp of laughter to bubble its way out of Gojo’s throat, and he’s pinning your wildly bucking hips down with one arm. “Don’t you dare run away now. You’re so cute when you’re cockdrunk and truthful like this, silly girl.”

The vibrations have you moaning out a feverish Toru! Toru! Toru! louder than ever, wrenching out of you with every crash of his soft tongue against your sensitive spots. Every harsh swivel on your clit, just harder on the tip, softer at the curve. 

“Yeah- yeah yeah yeah, say my name like that.” he gasps, spitting out hissy profanities into your velvety walls. You were squeezing him so tight it was almost difficult to bully his tongue into your plushy walls. To keep up his mean staccato - but fuck, it didn’t matter if his fingers were cramping up, it didn’t matter if his tongue was getting tired. Because Gojo Satoru was one stubborn man. “Louder-”

“T-Toru!”

“No no,” you’re jolting at the feeling of something cool and glossy hitting your cunt in a harsh glob. Gojo barely wastes any time thumbing his spit in to mix with the mess made down below, letting your ears ring with such obscene squelches that have your cheeks burning. “Hear this, sweetheart?” As if there’s anything else you could hear, he’s pulling out those sultry sounds from you. “She’s louder than you, n’ that makes me so sad-” You fuck up further and further into Gojo’s tongue, eyes locked with his down in his favorite position between your legs. “-my girl can be ah- loud f’me, right? Say my name, say it so the whole fuckin’ onsen hears.”

“Toru—”

He’s taunting you in that same honeyed tone, “Louder.” Murmuring even deeper into your cunt, “C’mon, louder. Tell it to me.”

“Toru! Fuck- m-close-” It’s probably the last understandable sentence you’re managing to moan out before you finally cum. Wave after wave of such filthy pleasure hitting you, it’s all you can do to tighten your grip on his hair. Angling and using leverage to grind your hips down deeper, jolting with every flick of his tongue sending stars behind your eyelids. And Gojo, satisfied, shuts up to let you ride his face through your high. Using him, just dragging your sloppy pussy all over his tongue, his mouth. Over and over.

“Jus’ a bit more-” you hear him whisper out so sweetly over your ringing ears. Suddenly, your limp hands fall to the sides of that drenched pool you’ve made. And yet Gojo is still going, still meshing his bruised lips so messily against your own, making out with your cunt in a way that has him so depraved. “Just some more, pretty girl- you taste so addictive.”

Big fat tears of overstimulation prick at your eyes, and you’re sobbing out, “W-wait- fuck m’too sensitive for that.”

“You can handle it, you’re a big- fuck- a big girl, aren’t ya?” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head with every taste of your pussy. Surging forwards despite the hold you have on his hair, “Hold on- just want a bit more- you don’t know how long-”

The pout he’s giving you once you have to just drag him away like a man starved, fighting against the grip you have on him. 

But oh Gojo looks so pretty, cloudy bangs pulled back to reveal his delicately blushing face, lips painted in a glossy sheen of your slick. Slobbering down, down, down to glisten across the bottom half of his face. Looking so bruised with how greedy he was, almost the same color as those cherry lollipops he loved so much. And his eyes - fuck, his eyes - glassy and half-lidded, hazy with a sheen that told you he was already completely and utterly pussydrunk out of his sanity. 

“Toru…” you start, unable to tear your eyes away from the way he moans at the mere sound of your voice. “Your turn.”

It’s a long endeavor to get rid of Gojo’s pants - or, at least that’s what it feels like. 

Hooking a still-shaky leg over his toned waist, you’re slamming his muscular frame down onto the mattress. Buttons hitting the floor when you all but tear his overpriced button-up off - because, really, it’s not you two if one of you doesn’t get your revenge somehow.

“These- these damn belts.” you scoff, too-eager fingers fumbling with the metal latches of Gojo’s belt. “Why does it have to have so many-”

“You’re so cute when you’re eager this way, silly girl.” he’s cupping the side of your face. Free hand easily unbuckling his belt, and the heady metallic sounds are enough to have your cunt so needy. “Like this-”

You’re gasping when he finally takes his formal dress pants off - along with those uselessly precum-soaked boxers. Sticky and leaving a lewd trail of glossy down his milky, sculpted thighs. 

And oh if you thought Gojo was pretty before then he was a fucking masterpiece right now. All tall, lean muscle that rippled with every minute movement. Curves and dips of sculpted skin being accentuated so perfectly against the dim lightning in your suite. 

So infuriating at how that couldn’t give you a better look at his massive, swollen length. So long and girthy, hefty where his fat head was leaking silky precum all over his abs. Such a delicate pink matching his lips at the head, dancing down, down his thick, prominent veins to those tufts of soaked white at his sharp pelvis. Fuck, he was so big - could you actually take him?

Wrapping your soft palm around Gojo’s furiously throbbing fast, you’re letting him coat you hand in a sinful sheen. And you can’t help but wonder what he’d taste like, too-

“Hold on right there, my dirty girl.” your slowly dipping head is tilted firmly by Gojo. “As much as hngh- fuck you’re squeezing me so tight- as much as this has been fuck- all I’d dreamt of since that office ice cream party. I just know m’gonna cum as soon as you put that smart mouth on me, sweetheart.” He’s kissing gently at your lips, sucking on your lower lip. “And I just know you’re never gonna fuck– let me live that down.”

You smirk, “Not gonna live that ice cream party thing, either, Toru.”

“He flashes you such a devilish smile, steadying your hips to straddle him messily. Spreading your legs on either side of his weepy tip. “Oh, fuck off.”

You hiss when you’re feeling the hot kiss his head is planting on your sensitive pussy lips, “Fuck you.”

“No.” Gojo chuckles, powerful thighs curling up to plant his feet on the mattress. Waiting. Anticipating. “I’m fucking you-”

It’s barely even a warning - laughable, really - how that’s all he’s gifting you with before bullying the very tip of his fat cock into your snug cunt in a sloppy hit. 

He groans, eyes fighting to roll to the back of his head but caught so so greedily on the way you swollen pussy lips are being spread so obscenely to swallow every single inch after fucking inch. Disappearing down into your gooey walls, Gojo’s breath hitches at the first sign of resistance from your too-tight entrance. 

“C’mon now.” he moans gutturally. Hips fucking up in a jagged, slow grind, trying so desperately to plunge himself in deeper. “C’mon c’mon come- on-” 

“Toru!” you’re gasping when he slides his soaked length even deeper. Feeding in to the way your gummy walls want more more more more- “You’re so fuckin’ hngh- impatient.”

“Me?” he’s asking, voice a few octaves higher and dripping with the audacity to sound so genuinely in disbelief. “You’re- you’re saying that I’m impatient. Oh, sweetheart-” you blink back the lusty haze in your eyes to look down at Gojo fully, spying that upwards curl of his lips that you knew didn’t mean well for you right now. “-look down.”

Your eyes widening as you’re whirling downwards to spy the way he’s not even halfway in yet. But that’s not all, no, your poor pussy is just absolutely bulging around his girthy shaft, struggling, stretched to their limits - yet still quivering with the effort to try and milk something delicious out of him. 

And the moment that tiny, shaky gasp leaves your mouth, his sharp hip bones are just crashing into yours. Toned hips lifting off of the bed to drive his achy cock into your drooling cunt. One hand kneads and gropes the flesh of your ass to steady you down, down, down-

“Toru-” you’re moaning, like a mantra, once his angry tip is gliding across the spongy wall of your cervix. The stretch too much, Gojo’s cock so thick in his girth that you could feel each and every sweet spot of yours being dragged down his length. “F-fuck, Toru!”

He chuckles, gritting out through those long, determined grinds. Having himself now fully stuffed inside your cunt, heavy balls kissing at the curve of your ass, pubic hair scratching up against your needy clit.  “Can’t hah- keep quiet, can you? Fuckin’ love how needy she is- how needy you are.”

“Sh-shut up-” you mewl, narrowing your eyes. 

“Hah- I would.” Gojo grins out so smugly. Tilting you precariously on top of him like some ragdoll to easily give your g-spot a mean crash of his greedy head. “But you can’t.”

And of course, he’s proving his own point by bouncing you in a heady, fast tandem, abs burning with the ache to fuck you so rude. Gojo spits once on two of his long, slender fingers, letting this lewd coating smear down to his knuckles before dipping them down to spread your puffy folds even farther. 

“Fuuuck, jus’ look at you.” he rasps, the deep baritone of his voice having your gummy walls mold even harder onto the shape of his cock. Gojo throws his had back, twitching balls squeezing harder with every increasing smack against your ass. “Shit shit shit- how that bastard had you hngh- all to himself and didn’t make th-this pretty pussy come everyday I’ll never understand.” He’s pulling you down with a hand to the back of your neck, tightening, “So don’t we hah- rub it in his ugly face?”

Shit, the thought has you grinding and stuttering your hips down to meet Gojo’s unforgiving cadence, arching your body into him like you couldn’t get enough. 

“You just got- hngh- so impossibly harder at that.” you push his bucking shoulders down onto the mattress. Now fully riding him just as much as he was fucking you into the mattress so animalistically. “And you call me needy.”

He scoffs, “I’m not the only one.” The fingers still lingering on your cunt moving to toy with your pulsing sensitive nub, teasing and toying your clit between two fingers. “Can you just h-hear how loud this pussy of yours is? Bet he can hear too.”

And it was true, the wet smacks were only getting louder. Sloppier. Squelching with the push and pull of Gojo’s pounding cock in the same maddening staccato. 

But still - you weren’t going to be compliant that easily. Feeling the familiar tingles of your high edging closer, you wanted to break him just one more time. “Nah- I don’t think he can.”

“Oh you’re gonna regret that, silly girl.”

In all of two seconds - maybe even less than - Gojo’s using his immense strength to his advantage. Flipping the two of you over so your back is hitting the soaked sheets, droopy legs thrown over your shoulder to plow into you in such a mean mating press he has you folded into. 

The new change in angle makes it even easier for him to be kissing your g-spot. Bruising. Branding his name onto your sweet spots - your cervix - so you wouldn’t forget. So you can’t forget.

“F-fuck, Toru-” you’re letting out staggered gasps every time he rams his hefty cock into you. Fingers still relentless on your clit - playing around with it as much as he was playing with your sanity. “I’m so-”

“What was that?” he interrupts through sloppy, stuttering thrusts. Free hand cupping his ear so goadingly, ‘Can’t hear you, sweetheart.“

“Toru-” you’re squealing over his rapidly accelerating movements. Fighting to babble out coherently, “Toru m’close-”

“Louder.” he’s grinning meanly. Hips burning with slowly fatiguing effort because he’s so close, your slick walls are massaging him so tight. But where’s the fun if there’s no teasing? “Still can’t hear ya.”

Your voice is shot at this point, “Toru, m’gonna cum-”

“Louder or m’not gonna let you.”

“Toru! Fuck fuck fuck m’cumming.” It hits him before those loud moans are even leaving your mouth, because your velvety walls are clamping down so snug. Molding to the shape of him, your heels digging even deeper on his shoulder, nails raking red red patterns down the pale skin of his biceps. “M’cumming- ngh-”

And fuck each and every slam of his hips sends electricity up your spine, bullying you through your high. Dragging it out till you think you could go insane. 

“God- fuck you’re so-” It’s the only hoarse grunt leaving Gojo’s lips before he’s spilling thick rope after rope of seed into the awaiting channel of your pussy. “So perfect f’me.”

Two hands of his lace above your head, pushing you so impossibly deep down his thick hilt. He’s cumming and cumming so hard like he never has in his life, body out of control with the way he’s stuffing you with every drop of seed. 

He shivers at the overspill, gushing out of the corners of your ravaged cunt, painting a creamy ring around his tired base. Too much. And yet mindlessly thrusting even sloppier, catching your lips in a lazy, passionate kiss. “At least we didn’t fuckin’ kill each other, hm?”

You smile into it, slotting your hips languidly, “Didn’t do hgnh- the neighbors any favors, either.”

“It’s Naoya, who fucking cares? ‘Limp dick’ my ass.” And oh how Gojo loved that sweet sweet smile gracing your lips, the way your eyes light up all because of him. He can’t help but drawl out, “Y’know…since we were locked up in this room for all three days, and have most of the day tomorrow, how about you and I actually do some sightseeing here before we leave?” 

You nod eagerly, tightening your legs around his waist and shit, this might just be heaven. “We need a break after that contract, s’gonna be so fun.”

He’s connecting his sticky forehead with yours, “Of course it will be, I’ll be there.” Babbling deliriously, drunk off the way you’re leveling him with another one of your familiar glares, “And we can use Yaga’s care, too, he never checks-”

“Toru…” you warn when Gojo cuts himself off with a gasp. Quirking an irritated brow - as you usually did when you’re with him, “Don’t tell me you’ve been dipping into Yaga’s card, he’ll kill you if he finds out. That’s if I don’t kill you first.”

“...”

“...Toru…”

“Is this a bad time to tell you that I booked us this suite with it too?”

A/N. My red flag is making Naoya the shitty ex in every piece of writing I do (or is that a green flag hmmm?)

Plagiarism not authorized.

[actual-changeling]

i have watched the kiss scene and the breakup as a whole more times than i can count and my brain is still trying to process all the things it picked up on.

my newest painful obsession: aziraphale thought crowley came back for him.

they kiss, aziraphale says i forgive you and instead condemns them both, crowley leaves. the lip touching itself is fucking essay worthy because holy SHIT the amount of micro expressions flickering across his face is endless, michael sheen acted his ass off.

i think it's a mixture of surprise, unspoken love, a HEAVY dose of fear, disbelief, and oh my god what did he just do what did i just do. he turns away from the door and we get a very very quick shot of how exactly he is angled.

standing up straight with faked spiteful anger, the same anger he spit at crowley out of fear and insecurity, chin up, clearly waiting for something - or rather someone. we gotta remember that every single time crowley has left aziraphale, he came back. every. single. time. he came back and apologized, that's what they do.

crowley comes back and aziraphale forgives him and they continue bearing their silence.

the bell rings when the door opens again, just like it did when crowley left, and just. look at his face. how quickly he swivels around. the blink and you will miss it spark of hope.

and then the pure devastation when he realizes it's not crowley.

aziraphale thought crowley was coming back for him. he was WAITING for him to come back. even after all that, he couldn't imagine crowley actually leaving him behind, especially not after that kiss and his entire indirect love confession.

just like crowley thought for a tiny heartbeat that aziraphale was kissing him back, aziraphale hoped, hell, he fucking thought he KNEW crowley would never abandon him. not after "i could always rely on you. you could always rely on me." aziraphale has taken him for granted, of course he thought it was him coming through the door.

but that spark of hope gets stomped out beneath the metatrash's feet and he fully turns around, unable to face him and the reality of it all.

this time, he went too far.

this time, crowley did not want forgiveness.

he was about to say i love you and turned it into i forgive you, still clinging to their old ways, their old rituals, just that they are no longer those beings, no longer in that specific relationship. everything has changed.

they both thought the other would never abandon them. turns out they were both wrong.

[yanderenightmare]

Can we get a yandere sukuna who is very obsessive or protective of reader. Reader is forbidden from leaving his shrine and when he has to be someplace where he can’t take reader he has Uruame “babysit” them.

Ryomen Sukuna

TW: NSFW, implied noncon, captive reader, somewhat exhibitionism, Sukuna in general

fem reader

You like Uraume well enough. But, it’s not much of a competition when it stands between them and Sukuna and the dozen-plus maids who’re not allowed to talk to you with the threat of having their tongue removed.

Uraume is the only one left for you to interact with. And though you wouldn’t really call yourselves friends, you might describe your relationship as similar to that between two coworkers��coworkers with the worst boss in history.

Uraume is diligent, though—fervent in their worship of Sukuna. You don’t really understand why he isn’t intimate with them instead—they seem much more pliant. But suppose Sukuna views the two of you differently. Uraume is his helper, and you’re his… well… it would be wrong to call you his pet due to the nature of your relationship, though that is what it feels like—and if not a pet, then something less. Actually, that’s the perfect way to differentiate you and Urauma—they are a tool, and you are a toy, and both belong to him. That’s a definition Sukuna would agree with, at least.

Uraume holds their tongue for the most part, but you’re sure they have more to say about your insolence than what they show. When anyone else disrespects Sukuna, they’re quicker to have them frozen dead on the spot than let them finish the sentence. But with you, they let you off with only a strict scolding—like a mother telling a child not to swear. 

It’s a strange relationship—often awkward. Sukuna doesn’t trust anyone else—and he certainly doesn’t trust you—so you’re often left in the hands of Uraume, who takes on the role of your lady-in-waiting, handmaid, and babysitter.

Often, you end up feeling more intimate with Uraume than with Sukuna. They even help you bathe, dress, and do your hair. No matter how much you tell them you can do it on your own, they insist it’s not proper and that Sukuna would be more pleased if you allowed them to assist you. 

They also help Sukuna with the same thing—which somehow makes it feel even stranger—watching them tread his kimono on him after having scrubbed his back in the bath. 

But it’s especially weird when Sukuna decides he wants to share his bath with you.

The way Uraume kneels by the tub, fully dressed before your naked bodies. 

You whine, telling Sukuna to stop, saying, “Not in front of Uraume,” but he’s shameless, sleaving himself inside you while Uraume works on rubbing your feet.

“They don’t mind,” is all he says on the matter. “Now quit fussing—you’re spilling everywhere.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[lisenberry]

Feral Friday 141 Thoughts     

NSFW/MDNI/18+    

When you really need to ride him...

...He’s sitting on the couch, watching the day’s match.  Knees spread wide and taking up half the cushions.  You’re cuddled under his arm with your feet tucked up, reading a book or a download on your phone.  It’s in the middle of a steamy scene in your latest bodice-ripper.  After chapters’ worth of fighting and resisting, the heroine is finally going to come all over the big mean villain’s engorged appendage.  

You’re so engrossed, you’re sure he can feel your breath change and your cheek heat up where it rests against his chest.  Can he sense your arousal as it dampens your knickers underneath the old, softened t-shirt you claimed from his bedroom floor the first time you slept over?

When the whistle sounds to end the half, you vaguely notice, until he stirs next to you. “Hey, babe?  We got any snacks?”

“Umm, I th-think so.”  You pull your attention away just in time to meet his eyes.  And he immediately knows. 

“Got yourself a good one there, do you?”  You’ve bitten your lips raw, you’re sweating, and your chest is nearly heaving with lust as you nod desperately.

“Do you mind if I take the edge off?”  You squeeze your thighs together and feel the slick dripping past the fabric.

“Your finger or mine?” he asks, keeping one eye on the telly and one on you as your maneuver out of your underwear.

“I’m going to need something a bit more this time,” you nearly whine as you launch onto his lap, careful not to headbutt his chin in your urgency.

GAZ – He doesn't miss a beat as you nestle your excited little pussy just over his cock.  He’s already rock-hard and it doesn’t take much to pull him out from the sweatpants he wears slung low on his hips.

“Take what you need, love.”  He smiles proudly as you drop down onto him, slipping and sliding on your own slick. 

And you do, pitching forward to settle him against the bundle of nerves deep in your belly.   He’s so long, he doesn’t just graze it, he impales it.  You swear he’s in your lungs, stealing your breath with each rise and fall.

He cheers you on the whole way. 

“Look at you bouncing so well on my cock...So pretty all flushed and sweaty...Fucking hot, you are.”

Your unfairly handsome, quick-tongued rake tenderly wipes the hair and perspiration from your face, and lets you use him until you're shattered and worn out. 

SOAP:  He lets you grind against him for a bit through his gym shorts, dick fully chubbed like the pommel of a saddle. 

“Please tell me it’s a Scottish highland warrior that’s got you so bothered, and not some prissy English lord.  You’ll hurt my feelings.”  He grins, his eyes already rolling back in his head at your steady stroking.

“Keep talking, Johnny.”  You hump against him faster, knowing the second you put him in, you’ll be done for.  A weeping, overstimulated mess before he even catches his stride.  His burly, veiny length has an upwards curve like he was molded and kiln-forged just to fit you. 

And he could go for hours if you didn’t wind him up good.  Tease him and test him, get his attention exactly where it needs to be.

“Let me suck on your tits, bonny lass.”  He deepens his brogue and his voice an octave as he tries not to laugh, while he strips your shirt off and buries his face into your bosom.

You are quite sure that the hot-headed highland scoundrel in your story didn’t use the word ‘tits’, but you let it slide.  The one between your thighs is everything you need, and more.

GHOST – He’s wearing jeans, so it’s a bit harder to get him free.  After you let out a frustrated huff at the complexity of his wardrobe, he cups you under your ass and stands you both up.  Undoing his belt buckle and the fly one-handed before setting you back down astride him again.

“Needy little dove today.”

“Just let me try, Si.”  You rarely ever ride him.  The few times you’ve attempted it, you give up when your thighs turn to mush and your cunt aches from being split in two.  He’s just too thick for a quickie.

“Are you going to let me help this time, or are you going to be stubborn?”

“Help!”  The strangled sound escapes your throat as you fit him in to the hilt.  He takes up so much space, you can’t tell where you end and he begins. 

“You’re fucking soaked.”  He rolls his hips to stretch you further, to find the right spot, as your slick trickles down to coat his balls.  You feel them wet and sticky against your seam.

“Mmmh-uhhh, that’s it.  Right there,” you bellow gratefully to the ceiling.

“What are you going to do about it?”  He grabs your hips rudely, fingers pressing to dimple the skin and hold you down as he spears your nerves like a spike.

You fight against his hold, knowing that’s what he's looking for.  Just a little fire in your belly, a little steel in your spine and your merciless, battle-scarred rogue will give you anything you want.

“That’s it, dovey.  Fuck me good.”

PRICE – He’s watching you with awe, wide-eyed and slack jawed, so immersed in the act of being milked by your warm, soft walls that he’s relinquished control completely.  You know that look too well.

“Do not come yet, John.  Please.  Think of bullets.  Hollow points and grenades.  A...ummm, a panzer!”  You’re almost there.  So...close your mind is just pulling words from memories of past conversations you were only barely listening to.

“A panzer?  Like the bloody old German tank?” he asks with the sort of clarity of mind you need of him in this situation.

“Yes, keep thinking of dusty relics rotting in museums.  While I ride your big, beautiful cock—”

“You’ve done it now.”  He groans, and you feel him stiffen inside you.  The sensation of it, coupled with the hot spurts of his spend hitting your most sensitive spot, get you there just in time to join him.

You don’t even mind that it was so quick.  It warms your heart, and your cunt, that the callous, domineering war hero falls to pieces so completely for no one but you.

[comatosebunny09]

oblivious | sylus

summary: how he could confess so matter-of-factly is beyond you. you could only hope to be so brazen. but you won’t deny how it makes you feel. how your body vibrates with pleasant tingles and your mind colors with relief, knowing he feels the same. genre(s): fluff, romance warning(s): kissing, very minimal spice, short and sweet, allusions to sylus’ past? now playing: lago azul - jamila velazquez

Curiosity killed the cat.

But not knowing is killing you more.

“Sylus?” you offhandedly query from your place on the settee in his study.

“Yes, sweetie?” comes his automatic response from an adjacent armchair. He doesn’t look up from his book. Instead, flips another page, the yellowing paper flashing across the lenses of his glasses.

“Are you in love with me?”

For the first time since you’ve both occupied this room, he looks at you. Really looks, peering into the bowels of your soul. And with all the seriousness of the world, he answers, “Of course I am.”

You blanch. Nearly tumble from the couch, your tongue heavy and swollen in your mouth. Sylus watches you grapple with words, the solemness never leaving his face.

“Y-You…what? Are you serious?” Your voice is shrill, and it’s laughable how you clamber to your feet, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“Yes.” He speaks evenly, as if his words will scare you off. “I am.”

“You—what?” It seems coherent sentences still fail you.

His book snaps shut with finality. He faces you fully, one leg crossed over the other as a smirk crooks his lips.

“Well, isn’t it obvious?” He waves a hand as if his affection for you is as evident as the transition from day to night.

“Huh?” You could smack yourself for how foreign the English language seems today.

“Sweetie,” Sylus sighs. Pinches the bridge of his nose after sliding his frames from his face, shaking his head. “For someone so intelligent, you can be incredibly daft.”

“Heh, ha! Joke’s on you; I don’t even know what that word means!” It’s your attempt to dispel the pressure that’s settled on your shoulders. To shoo away the heat branching into your cheeks, the anxiety swelling in your chest.

How he could confess so matter-of-factly is beyond you. But you won’t deny how it makes you feel. How your body vibrates with pleasant tingles and your mind colors with relief.

Without relinquishing eye contact, Sylus slides his book onto the coffee table. Gradually stands, and you stiffen as he pads towards you, steps measured like those of a feline maneuvering through the snow.

“It means foolish,” he murmurs. “Ridiculous. Insufferable, much like you’re being right now.”

You’re a comical sight. Spine ramrod stiff, petrified like a goat. You unconsciously step back until the wall collides with your spine, and you’re like a cornered sheep in a wolf’s den.

You shrink as he spills over you like liquid smoke. He places a hand on the space beside your ear, blotting out everything that isn’t him. Eases his fingers beneath your chin to coax you to look up at him, and he’s surprisingly gentle as his thumb cruises over your chin, just shy of your bottom lip.

His eyes flicker like the slow inhalation of a flame, and he studies your gaze for something. An out, a sign of discomfort. There’s no fight to you. No qualms, no attempts to push him away. And when he discovers this, he slowly pans in until your mouth is but a hairsbreadth away.

His breath fans over your lips. Filters through your lashes, and you grow dizzy from the haze of it all. Find yourself painting a sluggish triangle between his hooded eyes and the pucker of his parted lips with your gaze, and—

And somewhere between the proximity of his body…

Between the warmth of his breath and the calming scent of sandalwood he carries…

Between his thumb tenderly tugging your bottom lip down, and your throat thickening with words left unbidden…

He kisses you. Sylus kisses you, honey-slow and exploratory, fingers curling affectionately around the nape of your neck whilst his thumb slides along the angle of your jaw.

Once the initial shock peters out, you’re kissing him back. Snake your arms about his shoulders, unconsciously drawing him to your height. He pours a bitten-off sound into your mouth. Brows furrow, his expression etched into one of anguish as if he’s waited lifetimes for this.

His lips slant possessively over yours, and the tension once coiled in his muscles like a spring slowly sloughs off. He bows into you, trapping you between the rigid pane of his body and the textured wall behind.

You’re both moving on instinct now as relief washes like a soothing balm over your limbs. And you’re kissing him with equal fervency as his sweltering tongue seeks out the wet glide of yours. You sigh hot and wanton into each other’s mouths, your fingers seeking solace in the soft riot of his hair.

His hands perch on your hips. Ease down, down, down to your thighs to wrap around the backs of them. He effortlessly hoists you into his arms, securing your legs around his hips. Doesn’t once break the seal of your lips as he turns you ‘round, walking you back towards the settee.

And as he lays you down all tender, your hair fanned around you like a halo, and his body a warm, homely pressure settled between your legs…

You think, maybe I’ve been in love with this insufferable idiot all along, too.

masterlist

[heartysworld]

The third wheel // LN4

Lando Norris x Female Reader

In his attempts to make you feel less lonely, Lando ends up being the one who feels neglected.

W.C: 1.5k

Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Feel free to send requests or other questions if you happen to have any! Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

You wake up to the soft sounds of Milo’s tiny yawns and the gentle rustling of the covers as you carefully slip out of bed. Blinking against the sunlight streaming through the curtains, you stretch and cradle the little furball close to you. The puppy that Lando got you for your birthday has been your constant companion, especially during those long weeks when he’s away racing and you're unable to join him.

Milo has filled a void in your life that you hadn’t fully realized was there. His playful antics and loyal presence have made Lando’s frequent absences more bearable. Today, though, Lando is finally home for the summer break, and you’re both excited to spend some quality time together.

You move around the bedroom, getting ready for the day. Milo follows you everywhere like a shadow, his tiny paws padding softly on the floor. You pick out a casual dress and head to the bathroom to freshen up. As you brush your hair, you glance at Milo in the mirror. He’s sitting obediently, watching you with his big, adoring eyes, his tail thumping against the floor.

“Are you ready for a walk, handsome?” you ask, smiling at him as you lean down to give him a loving scratch between his ears and earning a small lick of your wrist.

From the bedroom doorway, Lando’s voice chimes in. "Yeah, just about," he replies, his tone filled with warmth and excitement.

You laugh softly, realizing that Lando thinks you were talking to him. Turning around, you see him standing there, grinning at you. "I was actually talking to Milo," you say, giggling.

Lando’s smile falters slightly, but he quickly recovers and laughs along. “I see how it is.” he mutters playfully, though there's a hint of real disappointment in his eyes.

You walk over to him and give him a quick kiss. “Oh, come on, Lando. You know I love you too. Ready to go?”

The three of you step out into the sunlit streets of Monaco, Milo trotting happily between you. The morning air is fresh and crisp, and you can’t help but feel a sense of contentment. As you walk hand in hand with your boyfriend, you two chat about everything that’s happened while he was away.

“Did you see the photos I sent you from when we visited that new café?” you ask, looking up at him.

“Yeah, it looked amazing. We should go there together.” Lando replies, squeezing your hand.

You nod enthusiastically. “Definitely. They have the best pastries and even offer pup cups for pets!”

Milo tugs on his leash, eager to explore as the mention of his second favorite thing reaches his floppy ears. You laugh and let him lead the way for a bit. Every so often, he stops to sniff at something or chase a fluttering leaf, and you can’t resist bending down to pet him and tell him how cute he is.

Lando watches, a soft smile on his face, but you notice a hint of something else in his eyes. Is it jealousy? You brush the thought aside, focusing on enjoying the walk.

Later, you stop by a little café for a quick breakfast. You find a table outside, and while you and Lando sip your coffee and nibble on croissants, Milo sits at your feet, looking up at you expectantly.

“Do you think he wants some?” Lando asks, pointing to Milo.

You chuckle. “Probably. He’s always hungry.”

Lando tears off a small piece of his croissant and hands it to Milo, who gobbles it up with a wagging tail. “Good boy, Milo." Lando says, ruffling his fur.

As the day goes on, you visit a few shops, picking up some treats for Milo and a couple of things for the house. Everywhere you go, people stop to admire Milo and comment on how adorable he is while your worldwide famius boyfriend is waiting on the side. You beam with pride, feeling like a proud parent.

Back at home, you and Lando prepare dinner together. As you chop vegetables and he stirs the sauce, you talk about your plans for the rest of the summer break.

“I was thinking we could take a trip somewhere,” Lando suggests. “Maybe a weekend getaway?”

“That sounds perfect,” you agree, smiling at him. “Where do you have in mind?”

“Maybe the south of France? It’s not too far, and we could take Milo with us.”

You nod, your excitement growing. “I’d love that. Milo would too, I’m sure.”

As you finish preparing the meal, you notice Lando watching you with a thoughtful expression. “What’s on your mind, handsome?” you ask, setting the table.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You know, sometimes I feel like Milo is the man in this relationship,” he says with a half-smile.

You pause, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, he gets all your attention. I feel like I’m the one begging for it,” he admits, trying to sound light-hearted but clearly feeling a bit left out.

You laugh softly, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his waist slowly making their way up to the base of his neck, something that you know makes Lando melt. “Lando, you’re always going to be my number one. Milo is just... well, he’s our little baby. It’s different.”

Lando chuckles, pulling you closer. “I guess I’ll have to get used to sharing you.”

The following race weekend, you’re at the Dutch Grand Prix accompaning Lando with Milo safely by your side. As Lando talks with some of his friends and fellow drivers, he shares his feelings about Milo taking over the house. They laugh, nodding in understanding.

“I know exactly what you mean,” says Carlos. “When we got our dog, I felt the same way. But trust me, it gets better. You just have to find a balance.”

Charles chimes in, “Yeah, and sometimes, it’s nice to have a little competition for their affection. Keeps things interesting.”

Lando grins, feeling a bit more reassured. The camaraderie with his friends helps ease his worries.

During the race, you and Milo cheer Lando on from the sidelines. Milo barks excitedly whenever Lando’s name is mentioned, and you can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm.

After the race, Lando comes over, sweaty and tired but grinning from ear to ear. He scoops Milo up into his arms and gives you a kiss. “We did it!” he exclaims, pulling your body closer to his.

“You were amazing out there,” you say, beaming at him. “We’re so proud of you.”

That evening, back at the hotel, the three of you curl up on the couch. Milo is snuggled between you, his little head resting on Lando’s lap. You lean against Lando’s shoulder, feeling content and happy.

“You know,” Lando says softly, “I think Milo might be growing on me. He’s not so bad.”

You smile, reaching over to stroke Milo's fur. “See? We’re a perfect little family.”

Lando chuckles, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Yeah, we are.”

As the night settles in, you all cuddle closer, enjoying the warmth and comfort of being together. In that moment, everything feels just right. The love and connection between you, Lando, and Milo create a perfect harmony, making every moment together special.

MASTERLIST

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[pleaselmhau]

You knew Ghost wouldn’t go out of his way for Halloween, he barely even realizes the holidays happened when they passed. But you were determined to show him how fun Halloween can be by combining it with his favorite thing fucking you you.

When you handed him a wolf costume he nearly asked if you lost your goddamn mind. Though with a few many pleas and sweet looks he caved somewhat. You had gotten him a ridiculous set, but the look he gave the package and the muttered “fucking hell,” had you knowing you were not gonna get a tail tied around his waist. No matter how funny it would be to chase the big guy around trying to tie it on. So you settle for letting him wear his combat uniform, mask and all, and just the wolf ears. It’s not much but it does the trick. “Wait here,” you chime sweetly before scampering off to go put on your own costume.

You felt nervous under his piercing gaze, waiting for him to say anything, “well…?” You finally cave, needing to know what he was thinking behind those stoic eyes. His eyes trail over your bunny costume in full. The full white outfit, the thigh highs, the floppy bunny ears on either side of your head held in place by a headband, the way you did your makeup to make you’re eyes look bigger and made your nose pink. “It’s… cute.” He finally says. His brows raise just a bit as his eyes meet yours again. He’s standing on the opposite end of the hallway, having gotten bored of waiting and walked out of the bedroom just in time to see you coming out of the bathroom. He looks intimidating, standing there nearly blending into he shadows, two pointed ears on the top of his head and skull mask staring right back at you.

“You get it? Like you’re the wolf and I’m the bunny, we’re like a pair.” You add on, waiting for any real reaction really. His hands shift to the walls surrounding on either side of him, palms pressing flat against the hard surface. “Mhm,” he hums, still giving muted responses. “So like-..” you stammer out, but are cut off by him. “Well go on then, little rabbit, hop along.” Your brows furrow in confusion for a moment before you see him shifting his stance, getting ready. So he did know what you wanted. You suck in a sharp breath before swiveling around and taking off away from him. His hands, flat against the wall push off as he takes off after you.

To make the sharp turn faster he just slides right into the wall with a loud thud from how fast he took off and it startled the shit out of you. Of course you knew what he was doing, chasing you, but you didn’t realize how hard he would go. It makes you redouble your efforts, letting out a gasp as your socked feet press harder into the hardwood. Using your hand on the wall to slide around the next corner. You can hear his heavy footsteps behind you, the sound going quiet as he fully slides around the corner too like he’s trying to drift on his socks. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest, your lungs just starting to burn as you quickly round the coffee table, pausing with him on the other side. His chest heaves, though you get the impression he’s putting on the full show for you rather than it being from exertion, he’s very in shape from his job. It works, maybe too well. Seeing him standing there at his full height, watching you with tunnel vision, body coiled like a snake ready to strike. You try to fake him out, stepping one way then going the other but he doesn’t budge much, just a slight shift in his weight. He lowers his center of gravity, one hand reaching forward slowly to rest on the coffee table and you realize what he’s doing just in time to sprint away as his foot presses to the coffee table and he vaults right over it. You don’t get far though.

His body slams right into your back, and your heart stops for a second as you almost crash face first into the hard wall, but his hands juts out, stopping both of you right before with his other arm around your waist. He doesn’t even give you a moment to catch your breath or to calm your racing heart, before he’s pushing your front right up against the wall. His body curls around yours, flush from head to knee. Well until one of his thighs slots between yours, knee pressing against the wall as his hands roughly pull your hips back so your ass is flush with his groin and his thigh is pressed up against your sex. You can feel the cold, hard plastic of his mask press into the side of your neck, followed by the scruffy fur of his cheap wolf ears brushing against your temple as he whispers in your ear. “Caught you.”

[yeonzzzn]

I'm in a spooky vibe rn and I've been thinking about one of the enha members (hyung line) with a scream mask ( y'know from the movie sjshsj) about to m*rder reader but idk they get turned on and both got freaky 🫦

fffuuuuccccckkkk anon your brain is 😍 love this idea so much (fun fact scream is my favorite slasher movie and I even have a ghost face tattoo) I hope this is exactly what you’re looking for🤭 it’s funny because I also main ghost face in dead by daylight so when I saw this request I got SOOOO happy ~ I also made this a lot longer than I expected to but oops🤭🤭

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chill & kill: sim jaeyun

part one of chilling & killing 🔪 | spotify playlist

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 6.4k

You sit up on the couch, eyes widening as you grab the TV remote and turn up the volume. 

“The mysterious ghost face kill strikes again, killing two more college students in the library this morning. The bodies were discovered by…”

You quickly shot to your feet, grabbing your jacket and camera and slipping your feet into your boots tying them quickly as you slipped out your dorm door. 

You never were so happy to live on campus as you ran from the dorm building and across campus to the library. Students surrounded the main entrance and you pushed your way through finally seeing the inside of the library. 

“Hey!” a police officer yelled at you when you slipped under the caution tape, “You can’t be back here!” 

You eyed him, pulling out your student journaling ID, “I have every right to be here.” 

The officer tried to protest, but you kept your stride, making your way to the bodies ignoring the yelling officer behind you. 

The closer you got, the more the smell of blood filled your senses, making your skin crawl. Your journaling partner was already on the scene, standing at the edge of the other caution tape marking off the two bodies. 

You stood beside him, your heart sinking as you took in the bodies of the two females lying dead in front of you. They were just freshmen. Barely made it into college and fully started their lives. 

From what you could see, they were stabbed multiple times in the chest and abdomen. One of their necks was slit, and the other looked like they were stabbed through their throat. They suffered, for sure. 

“Who found them?” you asked him, taking your eyes off the dead bodies and turning to your partner. He had one arm crossed over his chest and gripped his elbow as his other arm was reached up and fingers gripping his chin. 

He slowly tilted his head to look at you, streaks of his black hair fell into his eyes, “Funny enough,” he sighs, “Sunghoon and myself.” 

You completely turned your whole body to him, “That’s why you’re here before me?! Jake, what happened?!” 

Jake chucked, “You're more worried that I was here before you?” you narrowed your eyes at him, and he sighed again, completely wrapping his arms over his chest, looking back at the bodies. You could have sworn you saw a sparkle glint in his eyes. Jake has always been excited to be on the scene, same as you. But he enjoyed it a little bit more than you. He’ll make one damn good detective one day for sure, “Wanted to check out a book and saw the door already unlocked for the campus not even fully being opened yet. And that's when we found the bodies.” 

“Where is Sunghoon now?” you asked, looking around the library, spotting him with the librarian and being questioned by a detective. 

You went to walk over, to ask him questions, but Jake stopped you, putting a hand on your shoulder and pulling you towards him, his arm wrapping around over your chest, “Don’t question him, he’s really shaken up,” You wanted to protest, only for Jake to squeeze you tightly against him, your back pressing further into his chest, “Please, YN, he’s my best friend. I’ll take care of it. I promise.” 

You sigh and nod. Letting Jake take the lead with this one. 

But you still had a job to do. So you pulled out your camera, taking a few photos. Once you finished with the photos, you pulled your journal from your back pocket, asked Jake a few questions, and took his account down then turned back to the bodies and took your own notes. 

You circled the area, taking in every inch and piece of information you could. Jotting down everything in your little notebook. 

Jake kept his eyes on you, watching you do your thing. His eyes sparkled more the longer his eyes lingered on you. He eventually dropped his gaze and went back to looking at his best friend, watching as he sat at one of the tables, knees pressed to his chest and hands curled into his hair. The small smile Jake had fell at the sight of his best friend and—

“Jake!” You called for him, bringing his attention back to you, “I think I found something.” 

“Oh?” He walks over to you and kneels down on the floor beside you, your camera resting on your knees as you point your finger toward one of the dead girls, “What am I looking at honey?” 

You groaned and rolled your eyes, “Under her body, there’s a black glove,” you looked at Jake. His jaw clenched tightly, “The killer must have accidentally lost it, dropped it, or whatever. Maybe she fought them or something. I don’t know. But I want to figure it out.” 

You took a few close-up photos of the glove and turned back around to show Jake, noticing a scratch mark sliding down the left side of his neck. You hadn’t seen it before since you were standing on his right side, but it looked deep and irritated, “What happened there?” You reached up to touch it, but he grabbed your hand quickly and set it down at your side. 

“Hoon and I were wrestling earlier at our apartment and I hit the side of our entertainment center, I am fine.” 

You thinned your lips into a line, boys will be boys you guess. Their apartment was a lot smaller than the dorms on campus, they must have been fucking around at a good spot to have knocked Jake into their entertainment center. 

Eventually, the police shooed you and Jake off the scene. Forcing you two to head to the journaling office. You printed off the photos you took and made copies of your notes, passing them to Jake. 

You glanced at the clock, it was now ten thirty am and classes would be resuming like normal, so you and Jake went your separate ways. 

Jake was still new to being a journalist. You were a club of two, consisting of just you and another girl who helped write the articles for you while you took care of the rest. She wrote her own things, mostly on the sports or other small crimes that happen on campus, but with the ghost face killer making his rounds, you took up the role of this case with her helping on the side. At first, you took it all on yourself, but as the body count started piling up, you needed the help. So you let her help and put out an application for an extra set of hands, which Jake answered. 

You’ve seen him around campus before he joined you. Was born and raised in this town. Being the town's sweetheart and golden puppy boy. You did some research on him before allowing him into your club, can’t have the killer join you, right?

He was the captain of his soccer team in middle and high school. Has taken his school’s team to the championships multiple times and was the heartthrob of the school. He donated to charity when he could and volunteered at the police station on the weekends in hopes of landing a good detective job there after graduation. He was the whole definition of a straight-A good boy student. Perfect for your team. He became your partner and you taught him everything you knew. When Jake joined, the body count from this ghost face killer was only three. But with the two bodies that were found today, it was now at fifteen. 

In between your classes, you found yourself back at the club office, pinning the new photos to the corkboard in the back of the room, wrapping red string between the pushpins and possible suspects. After staring at the corkboard for what felt like hours, the other female club member came in and you helped her write the article. Give her your notes and advising as she writes. 

Jake popped in and out of the office as well, brainstorming with you about the suspects and the time of events that happened. You both spun in circles that led to nowhere. You ask Jake again about speaking to Sunghoon, and he shoots you down, “Give him some time. I’ll get the police report soon and it’ll help, I am sure.” 

A week has gone by since the murder in the library. You ended up shifting the corkboard from the office and into the corner of your kitchen, using the fluorescent light of the kitchen bulbs to light the board more. You leaned against the back of your couch, it being the furthest you could step away from the board. Biting at your nails as your eyes scanned every murder case. Every newspaper article and police report on the board. 

Nothing made sense. Nothing connected. Whoever this killer was, they were good. Covered their tracks without so much as a piece of hair at any scene of their crimes. Until the glove. 

You ran your hands into your long hair, scratching at the back of your head. You needed that police report that Jake still has yet to give you. Needed to speak to Sunghoon. There were missing pieces and those two things were important. You looked over to the clock above the kitchen sink. It was almost one thirty in the morning. But you still got up and slid into your sneakers, pulled your jacket on, and bounced out the door. 

Finding yourself in front of Jake and Sunghoon’s front door, knocking loudly. There was no answer. So you did the next best thing and called Jake’s cell phone. 

There was some shuffling on the other end of the door and a groan. The door opened and you find a half-awake Jake before you, his hair a mess and spreading in every direction, wearing a plain white tee shirt and a pair of black and blue checkered boxers, “YN,” he sleepily growled and then yawned, “It’s almost two am, what is it?” 

“Can I have the police report?” 

Jake blinked at you, “Huh?” 

You crossed your arms, “The police report. Can I have it?” 

Jake let out another yawn, “It’s at the school, in the office.” 

Of course, it was. And the campus is closed and if you get caught sneaking in just to get a piece of paper…You sigh, “Thanks anyway,” you softly say, and turn around to walk down the stairs but stop, “Can I talk to Sunghoon?”

Jake scoffs, leaning against the doorframe, “It’s almost two am,” he repeats, “Why are you out here so late? There’s a literal killer running around here.” 

You knew that. And still took that risk to come out here. The killer had to be a student at your college. Every murder had been college kids. It had to be another student. That’s what made being out here so dangerous. 

“I know,” you shrugged, “But I can’t stand by and do nothing.” 

Jake frowned, “You know you’re allowed to actually be a college student right? Live a normal life too?” you shrugged again, and he just scoffed again, “YN, go home and rest. Let the detectives with actual badges handle it. We can only do so much.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, “Let me speak to Sunghoon.” 

Jake stands his ground, “No. Go. Home. Before you get yourself killed.” 

You roll your eyes, “See you tomorrow then.” 

Jake mimicked your words and watched as you walked down the steps before walking back inside and going back to sleep. 

You didn’t understand why Jake was so against you speaking to Sunghoon. Maybe he was being protective? Sunghoon didn’t look the best after finding the bodies. He was probably so shaken up. But it only made you want to speak to him more. And that need only grew more when you noticed Sunghoon’s car wasn’t in its normal parking spot beside Jake’s. 

Meaning he wasn’t home. 

You’ve respected Jake’s wishes on not to talk to Sunghoon, but this matter was getting serious and Sunghoon just might be the big break you needed. So you quickly walked off the apartment complex, glancing back to make sure Jake was outside, and pulled your phone from your pocket as you kept walking and dialed a number. 

“Hello?” 

“Sunghoon, where are you right now?” 

—

You found him atop the bleachers of the soccer field just like he said he would be. A soccer ball sat between his feet, grass scuff marks were at the ends of his jeans, and sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows and sweat dripped down the side of his face. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he came here to kick the ball around. Probably as a distraction. 

You sat down beside him, “How are you holding up?” 

Sunghoon scoffs, “Holding up as in a week ago I found two dead bodies in the middle of the library or holding up because I’ve been questioned left and right by everyone or my best friend/roommate has smothered me to stay home and take time.” 

You felt bad for him, mostly for what you’re about to ask him. He wanted to obviously forget what he saw, who could blame him? It takes special people to see a dead body and not be fazed by it. 

“I’m sorry for asking you to do this again…” 

Sunghoon just shrugs, “If I am being honest, I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now.” 

You raised your brow, “Yeah?” 

He nodded, “Jake was against it,” he took a deep breath, “Something was off that day…with him.” 

“What do you mean?” You placed a hand on his knee, “You can tell me anything. Start with the beginning.” 

Sunghoon looked you in your eyes, then looked off into the distance at the field, “He told me that morning he was meeting our coach, for a one-on-one coaching session. At first, I didn’t think anything about it, being he was a soccer prodigy or whatever.” You nodded, remembering how much of the soccer star Jake was back in high school, “So you could probably understand my surprise when I got a call from our coach saying he tried to get ahold of Jake and then he confirmed with me that they did in fact not have a meeting that day.” 

You sat back against the bleacher seat behind you, staring off onto the field, letting the gears in your brain slowly turn, waiting for Sunghoon to continue. 

“I got scared, rushing out of the apartment and searching everywhere for him. Scared and thinking I was going to find my best friend murdered somewhere, ya know?” You understood, with this killer on the loose everyone was watching their backs and afraid. Who would be next? Who is next? “But I found him, lingering around the library building, digging through his soccer duffle bag. My heart almost stopped when I saw him…alive,” he took a deep breath, “So I confronted him, and he played it off that he did have a practice, but was with his coach from high school.” 

You looked back at him, to read his face. Seeing how pale his skin was becoming, “I believed him at first, thinking maybe I misheard that morning. So we started walking back, but he kept digging through the duffle bag, looking frantic. He wasn’t acting himself. Said something about needing to go to the library, about finding a book or something, and then took off. But I followed after him. I didn’t want to leave him alone, not with ghost face running around. But when I got to the library, I…couldn’t find him. I saw him go through the back door instead of the front. But once I walked in and noticed all the doors were already unlocked…then I found the bodies.” 

You squeezed his knee, “It’s okay.” 

He nodded, swallowing and looking down at the soccer ball, “I smelt the blood first and then noticed their bodies. And then…then there were footsteps behind me and I knew that I was next. But the library walked in through the front entrance and started screaming, her eyes darting to me, saying we did it. I turned around to see Jake standing behind me. His skin was pale and sweaty. Eyes wide as he stared back at me and then at the bodies and the librarian. He’s never been surprised to see the bodies. He’s been working with you for over half a year. So when I saw the look on his face…the surprise that was there.” 

You opened your mouth to speak, but Sunghoon kept going, “The weirdest thing is his duffle bag was missing from his shoulder,” Sunghoon scoffs, “How did it just disappear.” It was a good question. A very good one. “He hasn’t been the same since then.” 

You tried to lighten the mood, “Maybe you knocked something loose in his head when the two of you wrestled the other day.” Sunghoon gave you a confused look, “You know? He said you two got too close to your TV stand and he got scuffed up by the edge of it. Making a scratch on his neck,” you pointed to the right side, tracing a finger down the side of your neck to mimic where Jake has his slowly fading scar now, “It’s right here.” 

Sunghoon raised a brow, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We haven’t wrestled inside the apartment.” Your smile faded. Sunghoon’s phone started vibrating and he pulled it from his pocket, seeing Jake’s caller ID on the screen, “Guess he noticed I wasn’t home.” Sunghoon locked his phone, ignoring the call, “I haven’t been telling him when I’ve left the apartment. So I better prepare myself with a talk when I get back.” He stood up and started walking down the bleachers, “Thank you for listening to me, I don’t want to suspect my best friend, and it probably isn’t even him. He’s just weird, I guess.” 

You watched as he disappeared before standing up and finally finding yourself back at your dorm and in bed. Replaying Sunghoon’s story over and over, trying to piece it all together. It still didn’t make sense. None of it did. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop you from texting Jake, asking him to meet you at your dorm as soon as he could tomorrow, and him responding he had soccer practice but would be here right after. 

—

“You should really keep your front door locked, YN, there’s a killer out there.” Jake teased you as he made himself at home, dropping his duffle bag into a chair at your kitchen table, his eyes going to the corkboard, “Make any progress yet?” 

You stared down at the duffle bag quickly before looking up at him, then back to the board, “No I haven’t. I left my door unlocked on purpose. Knew you’d be coming here.” 

Jake smiled at you and stood beside you at the back of your couch, looking at the board, “We’ll catch him, don’t worry honey.” 

You glanced at him slightly, your heart winced at the nickname he’d given you. You looked to his neck, seeing the scratch still healing but faded, being nothing more than a pink line. 

Jake looked down at you, giving a smile, “Can I freshen up in your bathroom? I bet I don’t smell the greatest from practice.” 

You scrunch your nose, “Yes, please. You smell.” 

Jake just rolls his eyes playfully and slides his hand up and down your back quickly before leaving your side, “I’m stealing your deodorant.” 

You waited until you saw him turn the corner and heard the bathroom door close and lock before slowly walking to his duffle bag. 

You didn’t want to suspect Jake anymore than Sunghoon did. But his story last night didn’t add up. No part of it did. Jake’s actions didn’t add up. Jake’s story he gave you didn’t match Sunghoon’s or the librarian's. None of the pieces were adding up no matter how much you tried to force the pieces together. 

You looked down the hallway, then back at the bag, and slowly unzipped it, your hand flying to your mouth quickly to stop any noise from coming out. You took a couple of deep breaths and continued looking into the bag. 

The police report you asked for along with the glove from the scene of the crime was in the bag in a ziplock bag. Along with the other matching glove and the ghost face mask and the black suit. You pulled the mask out of the bag with shaky hands. Why did Jake have these items? You knew. You knew why and still tried to find another explanation. But after seeing the contents of his bag…the pieces of the puzzle fit. Everything clicked and made sense. 

“Don’t you know it’s rude to go through people’s things, honey?” before you could move, a knife was pressed to your neck and his other arm was wrapped around your waist, “I expected better from you than to snoop around.” 

Jake’s hot breath was hitting your ear, sending chills down your spine. Any doubts you had were now out the window. Jake is ghost face. Jake is the killer. 

“Keeping secrets is very rude too,” you retorted back, dropping the mask back into his bag, “But I figured you already knew that I found out, hint why you leave your bag so easily for me to look through.” 

Jake chuckles, squeezing his arm around you and pressing the knife further against your skin, “Can’t get anything past you, can I?” 

“Why?” you asked, tilting your head at the movement of him brushing the side of his face to yours. 

“Why did I do it?” he nuzzled his nose on the shell of your ear, “You’ll need to be specific, honey.” 

You swallowed, “Everything.” 

Jake chuckles again, “Because it’s fun.” It was such a simple yet spine-chilling answer, “You think I played this fucking good boy persona because I actually wanted to? No, no. I had to play that persona. To hide my secret. This is all a game to me, YN.” 

“It’s why you joined our club,” you swallowed again, “To make it harder for us to figure you out.” 

Jake shrugs, gently biting at the shell of your ear then rubbing his nose against it again, “I thought it would add to the fun, honestly. Yeah having an inside made it so much easier. It covered my tracks well. Until you started picking up on every. Fucking. Thing.” he hissed, tightening his grip, “You made it harder to cover up my tracks. Picking apart every smallest thing with each murder. I was lucky you didn’t suspect me, that was until you started poking your nose more into my business, you don’t think I didn’t know you tore the office apart looking for the police report before coming to my apartment? That you talked to Sunghoon even after I told you not to?” 

“You have our phones and the office bugged,” this should surprise you, but it doesn’t. It made sense. 

He pressed his lips to your ear, “Smart girl. Think I wouldn’t bug your phone? Or my best friends?” 

“Jake, you were going to kill him, weren’t you.” 

Another low chuckle, “Yes,” your body stilled, feeling cold, “It would have been a pity, really, to kill off my best friend all because he also stuck his nose where he shouldn’t have.” 

You looked down at his bag, seeing the bag gloved, “You went back to the library for the glove, you fucked up.” 

He growled in your ear, “Shut up! That bitch fought me instead of taking it. I didn’t even realize my glove was gone until after I murdered them both and fled the scene. That’s when Sunghoon showed up. I knew I had to go back and find where the fuck my glove went before someone else did. I didn’t know he was following me until I went to go back and check the bodies after tearing apart the other side of the library and saw him standing there. I quietly set my bag in one of the reading rooms and locked the door, slipping my knife into the back of my jeans. Preparing myself to kill my best friend.”

“All to keep your fucking secret,” you snapped at him, his hands on your body getting tighter.

“Watch it, honey,” he hissed, “You do have a knife to your throat right now.” 

“She fought you right? Probably knocked off your mask too. She saw your face, and you acted quickly and sliced her throat. Not before she left her own scratch on your neck.” 

Jake nodded, a wide smile on his face, “Nothing gets past you. You’d make a great detective someday, honey.” 

You needed to turn him in. Needed to get out of here and turn him in before he could kill anyone else. Fifteen. He’s murdered fifteen people. Probably more before he took up the ghost face mantle.

Jake pressed his chest to your back, “You know,” he whispers, “I’ve dreamed about doing this with you, my knife to your throat,” he rocked his hips against your ass, “It’s so fucking hot.” 

It was now or never. You tilted your head to the side, taking the skin of his forearm between your teeth and biting hard. 

“Fuck!” he shouted, his hand flexing and dropping the knife to the floor and his grip on you loosening. 

You pushed him back with your back and sent him falling to his ass. You barely made it two steps away from him before both of his hands were on your ankles, tripping you to the floor and pulling you towards him. 

You kicked your legs but not getting out of his strong grip. Jake worked fast to flip you over onto your back, his hands now at your wrists and holding them up and above your hand, pinning them to the floor. He straddled you, locking his legs around yours to keep you from wiggling them. 

“Stop fighting me!” he growled, using all his weight to pin you to the floor. 

You stopped, chest rising and falling as you stared up at his beautiful killing face. 

He held your wrists down with one hand and reached for his knife with the other, chuckling as he once again held the knife to your throat, “You look so pretty like this baby, all underneath me like this.” 

Jake was so turned on by this. He’s only dreamed of having you pinned underneath him with his favorite weapon against your skin. Dreamed what you’d sound and look like. This passed his expectations. It went even further than that. His cock twitched in his pants seeing the look of anger all over your face. 

“You get horny every time you kill someone?” you spat out at him, the fire in your eyes burning. 

Jake cocked his head, “You’re not afraid of me?” 

“Why would I be afraid of a horn dog who likes killing people?” 

Jake laughs, adjusting his legs from yours, using his knees to spread your legs apart, sliding himself between them, “Baby, you’re the only one I’ve ever got horny over. The others were just killings to kill. But you? You do something to me.” 

From the moment Jake first saw you on campus he wanted to be buried balls deep in your cunt. Wanted to fuck you so hard as he softly made cuts on your arms to watch you bleed as your moans of pain and pleasure filled his ear holes. Wanted to cum so deep within you and make you his. 

He had more than just joined the club to hide his killings as his reason. He wanted to get closer to you, get to know you. Then kill you after he got his dick wet. But what he didn’t expect was you figuring him out so soon. His plans got pushed up. He wanted you afraid of him as he killed you. He didn’t expect you to look at him with fury, so unafraid. 

Jake leaned down, being inches away from your face, the knife pressing harder against your neck, “You get me so hard,” he rocked his hips between you, his hard cock rubbing against your clothed cunt. You tried to not whimper, to keep your firm face, but the effect he was having on you down south was obvious. He wasn’t stupid, you knew that. 

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been crushing on Jake since he walked into the club for the first time. How couldn’t you? He was perfect. Still was as he sat atop you with a knife to your neck. 

You relaxed your body, “If you’re going to kill me, then do it.” 

Jake smiled, “Want me to?” He released your hands from his grip and slid the knife from your neck and down to your shirt, his free hand looping his fingers at the collar, using the knife to cut a line, tearing the fabric and exposing your laced bra and skin. Jake tucked his lip between his teeth. Fuck you looked so much better than what you did in his dreams. So much better than he imagined. He slid the tip of the knife down your chest, rounding it around your breast and down your sternum, “Where should I start?” He placed both hands at the sides of your head and bent down, lips brushing against yours, “Tell me, baby.” 

You lifted your head, connecting your lips to his. Taking in the taste of his cherry chapstick and the softness of his lips. He rocked his hips against yours, moaning into your mouth, “Start by taking the rest of my clothes off.” 

He laughs against your lips and then pulls away, setting the knife down at your side to pull his famous white tee shirt off his body, “Yeah?” you nodded, eyes darting to his bare chest and abs, “So fucking dirty,” he cooed, “Should have known you were into killers.” 

You sat up on your elbows, ready to reach for the button of his jeans, but found the knife back in his hand and the tip pointing at your chest, “Lay back down, baby, no need to be so impatient.” 

His free hand touched your shoulder and gently pressed you back to the floor. You kept your eyes on him as he unbuttoned his jeans, the knife still in hand as he wiggled out of his jeans and boxers, leaving him bare to you. 

You watched as he took his length between his fingers, slowly pumping himself, him biting his lips. You were growing too impatient. Needing to feel him against you, in you, “Jake,” 

“Shhh, honey,” he whispers, dropping his hands to your shorts, “I know.” 

The cool metal of the knife brushed your skin as he pulled your shorts and panties down your thighs. Goosebumps formed on your skin and making Jake chuckle, enjoying this more than he’d thought, “You love the way my knife feels against you?” He tossed your clothing somewhere off into the void of the room, settling himself back between your legs, his tip prodding your entrance, “love the way it feels to glide against your skin?” He sent the knife sliding up your tummy, his hips pushing his cock in your pussy, slowly stretching you. 

Jake bottomed out, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. He hissed out in pure pleasure of finally being buried so deep inside you, the pleasure of how fucking good you felt wrapped around him, “fuck baby,” he smiles, sliding the knife to your waist, wanting to cut open your skin and see how pretty your blood would look pooling out, “feel so good and I’m not even moving.” 

You bucked your hips up against him, wanting to feel any kind of friction. Jake drops the knife to the floor, his hands pinning your arms above your head again, “I told you to stop being so impatient.” 

“Jae, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist, “I need you.” 

Hearing you beg for him had him gone and all he cared about now was fucking you. To make you feel so good until you’re cumming around his dick. 

Jake started out slow, burying his face in your neck, “Why aren’t you afraid, hmm? I could kill you right now.” 

You leaned into him, squeezing your legs tighter on him to push him even further into you, “Because I have secrets of my own.” 

Jake chuckled, bucking his hips harder and faster into yours, his lips pressing to yours. Tongue sliding down your throat and exploring your mouth. One hand leaving yours to cup your breast, his thumb and index finger pinching your nipple, “Tell me your secrets.” 

“You already seem to know them all, stalker,” you hissed, throwing your head back against the floor at him pinching your nipple harder in the same movement of him pushing his dick hard against your cervix, pressing so hard to break whatever barrier that was stopping him from completely filling you whole as his hip bones knocked against yours. 

“Tell me anyway,” he whispers between kisses, now sliding his mouth down to your ear, licking the shell of it, “I don’t know what you haven’t texted or physically talked about.” 

“I have feelings for you,” you felt insane saying it out loud. Felt crazy that you even admitted it to him. To the person who was fucking you into pure bliss. To a murderer, “I’m obsessed with you, Jake.” 

Jake bit down into your neck, both of his hands sliding underneath you to wrap at your shoulders, fucking his hips against you faster. His teeth sank into your skin tearing it slightly, a small sprinkle of blood escaping. 

“Fuckkkk,” he moans, tasting the brassy liquid on his tongue, “Even your blood tastes good.” 

He was fucking crazy. You knew he was. But everything about him drew you to him. Made you want him more. 

And him hearing how obsessed you were with him made him even crazier about you. 

“Such a good girl,” he cooed, “Letting me fuck you like this, looking so pretty for me this way.” He bucked his hips faster, adjusting his legs on the floor to spread yours even wider, giving him more access to hit your weak spots and to hit them just right. 

You pulled at his hair, “Jake!” you moaned out his name, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap, “I’m going…fuck��I’m going to cum.” 

“Please,” he groaned, “Cum for me baby,” he sticks his tongue out, flattening it against the bite he left on your shoulder, licking up the new blood that pooled out, “fucking cum around my cock for me, honey.” 

A few more thrusts and you came around him. Tingles spread throughout your body at the feeling of your release. Jake moans at feeling the mess you’ve made on his cock, him working his dick faster in your cunt to chase out the release he wants. The one he’s dreamed about having with you. His hand only did so much for him with his thoughts while back at his apartment. But now he was balls deep in your sweet pussy, having you right where he wanted you. 

“Gonna cum soon,” he panted, hands squeezing your shoulders, “fuck I want to cum in this cunt so bad.”

You pulled at his hair harder, the overstimulation hitting you hard, “Jae, I can’t—“

“I know, baby,” he pressed his forehead against yours, his brows furrowing and eyes shut tightly, “Going to fill this pussy to the brim, understand? This pussy is mine.” 

Jake pressed a kiss to your lips and lifted up, taking your legs and pressing them to your chest, pistoning into you faster but sloppy, “Shit,” he hissed, “Fixing to cum—fuck—I’m cumming, honey, I’m cum—“ one final thrust, and his white ropes spilled into you. He pressed his hips against you and held them there, making sure every last drop of his cum made it deep within, none to be wasted. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, slowly lifting himself back up and dropping your legs back to the floor, “Sex with you was so much better than in my head. I only dreamt how good this pussy would feel. How good it’d feel to cum in you.” 

Jake was definitely more obsessed with you than you were with him. And he honestly didn’t care how obvious it was. 

“Fuck I am in love with you.” he chuckles, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs. 

You tilted your head to the side, seeing the knife sitting there idle. Jake clocked where your eyes landed, but he wasn’t fast enough as you quickly grabbed it, being the one who now held the knife to his throat, the fire in your eyes back. 

Jake might have just came, but his dick twitched and hardened again between the walls of your fuck hole. His crazy smile is so wide and his eyes so lustful. Seeing you so ready to end him right here and now made him crazier. Made him crave you even more. 

He wouldn’t kill you now. No, no. How could he kill the love of his life? How could he slide that knife into your skin and cut you open? You were precious to him, more than what he thought before. Maybe the sex drew him in, but you weren’t getting away from him that easily. 

“Awe, babe,” he cooed, taking your wrist in his hand and slowly removing the knife from your hand, “This is how this will go now,” he tossed the knife across the room and out of reach, pinning your arms back to the floor, slowly rocking his hips, “You will keep your fucking mouth shut, got it? Close this ghost face case and if anyone asks you don’t know anything about it. Give it up. All for me, okay baby?” 

You nodded, not being able to say no to those brown eyes. It was toxic, whatever relationship you just found yourself in. You became that girl in books and movies who fell for the killer. It surprises you at how fast you were willing to drop everything for him. To keep his secret. 

He kisses you gently and fucked you on the floor until you both came again and again and again. 

What did you get yourself into?

— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

[cherrygirlfriend]

bsf!rafe teaching ditzy!reader to golf

warnings: smut, golf (it's a warning), MDNI

i have not played golf since i was 14 and i sucked at it so don't blame me if i don't know how it works i only care about golf when it's abt golf daddy ...

you'd never really been interested in any kind of sports; sure, when you were in high school you did cheer, but since then, most of the physical activity you did was running or pilates, and something you definitely had no interest in was golf, and that was something not even a cute golfing outfit had managed to change.

"i dunno 'bout this, rafey..." you said, playing with the hem of your pink golf skirt. "i'd just much rather watch you play."

"come on, sweets, you already agreed to it."

"rafe, why did you even bring her along?" topper sighed exasperatedly, and that earned a piercing look from rafe, as well as a pouty look from you, causing him to throw up his hands, going to position himself.

"come on, what happened to 'trying new things'? i mean, i agreed to do some girly shit you wanna do if you do this for me."

"but rafeee," you whined, pointed out your freshly done nails, "these nails aren't meant to go near balls, why do you think i don't give you handjobs?"

"jesus christ," rafe snorted, unable to resist laughing, although he knew by the look on your face that you were fully serious, before straightening his face. in all fairness, your nails were pretty long, "if something happens to your nails, i'll pay to have 'em done again. now get your pretty ass here. you're not getting out of this." he said, holding out his hand.

you hopped off the golf cart with a huff, your glossy lower lip pushed forward in a pout that made rafe want to kiss it off your face. reluctantly, you took his hand, and he pulled you closer to his body in a way that made your heart race.

"alright, take this." he said, picking up one of his clubs and handing it to you. rafe showed you how to hold it, standing right behind you, his front right up against your back, gently holding onto your hips.

"you know, if you wanted to feel me up, you could've just asked."

"i don't need an excuse to feel you up." rafe grinned, pressing a kiss on your bare shoulder, before fixing your hold on the club with his own hands. "alright, feet further apart." he mumbled, as he pushed your feet further apart before stepping back. looking over you with slightly narrowed eyes, his thumb slightly pulling at his lower lip in concentration.

"bend your knees." rafe said, and the commanding tone of his voice caused a shiver to go down your spine as you did what he told, all the while biting your bottom lip. "good girl..." he murmured, fully focusing on getting your form correctly, unaware of the effect he was having on you. "wait, hold on." he said, once again moving to stand behind you, both of his hands on your hips as he pulled them back slightly, your heart now fully pounding against your chest.

"perfect." he stood back again, "alright, when you swing, remember to twist your body as you do. you ready?"

you nodded, your face flushed as you swung, making sure to twist your body as you did so, and when the ball launched away, you turned to rafe with a cheerful expression, throwing your hands in the air. "i did it!"

"you did." he chuckled; to be honest, he had no idea where the hell the ball even landed; all he had been focused on was you.

"can you position me again?" you said, twirling your hair as you bit down on your lip.

after around an hour of golfing, you, rafe and his friends made your way to the country club, the boys talking about getting drinks, but the moment you got inside, you made an excuse to rafe's friends about how you needed his help with something, only to tug him into the women's bathroom, pushing him against the door, your lips on his in a second as if you'd drown if you didn't devour every part of him at that moment.

when he finally pulled away, leaving you feel even hungrier for him, rafe looked down at you in a slight daze, "what's this?" he grinned, his hands finding their way onto your hips, only for you to grab one of his hands, bringing it to the waistband of your skirt, rafe's eyes widening when he realized what you were after.

you looked into his eyes, your hand over his as you guided it down your skirt and down your panties, letting out a sigh when you felt his fingers on your folds, the small chuckle he let out making you bite down on your lip, "shit, you're soaked, huh?"

nodding, you looked up at him, your pupils blown wide as you waited for him to tell you what to do, the blonde chewing on his lower lip as he thought before clearing his throat. "'right, take your panties off and sit on the counter." he said, locking the door.

you slid your panties off, hopping to sit on the marble counter with your still on. "attagirl." rafe said, coming over to you. he took hold of your chin, making you look up at him, before kissing you so fleetingly it almost made your lips burn, "gonna be quiet f'me?"

"mmhm..." you hummed in what was almost a whine, only making him tsk.

"i don't believe you." he said, pressing a quick peck on your lips, "open your mouth." rafe commanded, and you did as he said, only to have your own panties stuffed in your mouth, tasting your own arousal on the fabric. "now you will."

he got on his knees, wrapping his arms around the backs of your thighs as he tugged you closer to him, your skirt allowing you to slide to the edge of the counter while you held onto a to a paper towel dispenser, rafe pulling up your skirt with a hungry look in his eyes.

"look so fucking good, baby..." he mumbled, starting to press kisses up your thigh, getting painfully close to your folds, making you to let out a whine from behind your panties, only for rafe to smack your inner thigh, "quiet. 'm trying to enjoy my meal here."

you threw your head back against the mirror when you finally felt rafe lick a stripe up your cunt, biting down on the lace of your panties, your hand gripping onto the paper towel dispenser even harder when you felt his tongue lapping at your entrance, his grip on your thighs tightening when you felt the hilt of his tongue against your walls, before pulling back.

"so good..." he muttered against your pussy, causing vibrations to go down through your body, rafe pulling one of his arms away from your thigh, letting it rest against the marble, while the other brought your other thigh to rest on his shoulder. he gathered some of your wetness into his fingers, the tips of his fingers teasing your entrance while his lips pressed kisses on your puffy clit, your whole body feeling like it was on fire.

when rafe finally pushed his fingers into you, your back arched all over again, finally feeling some proper release. his ring was cold against your pussy as he pumped his digits in and out of you, slowly building up his pace.

he started occasionally flicking your clit with his tongue, and every time rafe did so, he could see your eyes roll back into your head.

the pace of his fingers were relentless as you started clenching around them slightly, and he couldn't help but grin, knowing you were close, and that's when rafe attached his lips to your clit, starting to suck on it while his fingers thrust in and out of you, and you couldn't help the whines and moans you were letting out, luckily muffled by the lacy fabric.

"that's it..." rafe mumbled against your pussy, making your entire body vibrate, "come on my fingers, pretty girl..."

you couldn't help it, the band in your abdomen that had been building up since you stood on that golf course finally snapping when rafe attached his lips back to your puffy clit, your walls starting to spasm around his fingers in a way that made him groan as you felt yourself making a mess of what little counter was under you.

rafe started slowing down his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm, pressing a small kiss on your clit before he pulled his lips away, looking up at you, and when you looked at him with half-lidded eyes, his lips were so gloriously puffy and covered in you.

finally, he pulled out his fingers and stood up straight, taking your panties out of your mouth and dropping them to your lap while your head felt so gloriously fuzzy and empty. rafe pressed his lips on yours, and you could taste your arousal on him as his tongue entered your mouth.

when rafe pulled away, he let out a chuckle, "mmm, look so pretty 'n dumb right now." he brought his fingers to your lips, "open up and clean up for me, pretty girl."

[seresinhangmanjake]

Don't Touch What’s His

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: Feyd's harpies attack you while you're both asleep in his bed and he gets real mad.

Notes/Warnings: mention of blood and mutilation, inflicted wounds, and possessiveness. Related to the fic titled His, but this can be read alone. Typos (just being real)

Words: 1100

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

You’re screaming for him before you’re even fully awake, shrieking his name before you can begin to grasp what’s happening to you. All you know is that you’re no longer warm, no longer safe as you’re yanked from his arms and dragged to the bottom edge of the bed. Claws are digging into your calf as primal grumbles and growls and the distinct sound of lips smacking in anticipation reach your ears. Your body is being pulled further and further away, and no pawing at the sheets helps to keep you on the mattress.

Another plea for him is on the tip of your tongue, but then a hand wraps around your arm, engaging in a tug-of-war with whatever monster has a hold on you. Scrapes make lines down your leg as you dig your heels into the bed and back yourself away from the clawed being. You take a few deep breaths and blink, your eyes adjusting to the darkness.

“I told you she’s off limits!” Feyd shouts in a terrifying tone. A tone most commonly reserved for those who inconvenience him: servants and prisoners and his brother. It’s not his low timbre; it’s much more powerful. So powerful that you half-expect a crack to split open the floor.

You blink again and crane your neck to peer over the foot of the bed at who he scolds. Feyd’s harpies are on their hands and knees, staring a hole into your head. It’s a daring choice. When Feyd speaks, those around must be attentive with eyes and ears, but the harpies don’t so much as glance in his direction. They’re here for you, they want you, and clearly nothing else.

“But she looks so yummy,” one of them says, a pout forming on her lips.

“And she smells even better,” the second adds. Her tongue swipes over a sharpened fang.

All three of them begin to crawl across the floor until they’re at your side of the bed. Feyd’s fingers tighten around your arm, his eyes narrowing, and you lean back against his chest just in case they get the idea to lunge at you.

“We won’t eat very much of her,” the third purrs as her hand slithers over the silky sheets, inching toward your body. “Just a few little bites. Plenty left over for our lord na-baron to enjoy.”

When her pointed nails graze your ankle, Feyd leans around you, grabs her wrist, and sharply twists until there's a snap. She yelps. Your body jolts. Tears build in the corners of her eyes. Your jaw drops.

Immediately, they appear to sober up. Their hunger, if still there, doesn’t lust for you so intensely now that fear has taken over.

“You will not sink your filthy fangs into her,” Feyd spits, baring his teeth. “She’s mine. Her flesh, her blood, all of her—mine.” The other two harpies shrink and skitter away from their injured sister. “If I wanted to share, I would have.”

Feyd releases his harpy. She cradles her broken wrist, whimpers emitting from her throat as she scoots back to join the others. They feel safer in a pack. Though you don’t think that will aid them in this case.

“W-We just thought she wouldn’t matter to you,” one of them mutters, her chin tucked to her chest. “We thought you could find another plaything.”

Feyd’s face darkens. The icy blue of his glare wavers under the force of a burning red. As he moves to stand, he jerks you to his side of the bed, separating you from the beastly women by a few more feet.

“What did you just say to me?” he grits out, rounding the mattress and stopping in front of them.

The harpies glance at each other in panic before looking back at their master. “W-We didn't mean–”

“It appears I’ve treated you too well,” he says decisively. “If you’re bold enough to defy my orders, then perhaps you need to be reminded of your place.”

You gulp. You’ve heard that tone. You’ve heard those words. But you have a feeling Feyd’s threats toward his harpies are not as empty as the ones he throws at you, and it makes your stomach squeeze.

Your presence in Giedi Prime’s fortress being the indirect cause of their harm is nothing less than unjust. It’s not their fault their master brought fresh meat home. They cannot control what they are, and Feyd routinely encourages their behavior, excluding only you from the list of bodies they are allowed to feast upon. If anything, this is his fault.

“Get up!” he shouts, and they scramble to their feet.

You rise up on your knees as he turns and yanks open the bedroom door. “Feyd, wait, you don’t have to–”

“Stay!” he snaps, pointing a finger at you.

Your mouth snaps shut and you sit, watching as his harpies obediently follow him out the door. Within the minute, you hear the screams and squeals of pain, and you wince, pressing your hands over your ears.

You don’t know how long you stay in that position. It’s Feyd’s touch that jolts you back into the present.

You look up.

Red is speckled across his torso. You feel a slickness on your face from where he is cupping your cheek, and when he pulls his hand away, you notice the rivers of blood running through the spaces between his fingers.

Without a word, Feyd pushes you down onto the bed, rearranges the covers so they drape appropriately across your body, and crawls under the sheets to settle in beside you.

“What did you do to them?” you ask.

His eyes are already closed by the time the question fully leaves your lips. He blows out a heavy breath through his nose and turns on his side to wrap his arm around your waist. “Removed a few fingers,” he says. “Now go back to sleep.”

“But–”

“Go. To. Sleep,” he grumbles in demand. “Unless you’d rather I change my mind and toss you into their feeding pit…”

It's one of those empty threats, but you don’t press him further. Not for tonight. Tonight he is tired and grumpy and nothing about you pushing him will do you any good. So instead, you allow him to do as he wants. And what he wants is to tuck your head under his chin, eliminate all space between you, and hold you in a grip that is just short of suffocating.

[leqonsluv3r]

husband!leon kennedy

—re!4 husband leon x pregnant!wife!reader, a headcanon list

based on this one-shot request

masterlist taglist

an: decided to give you guys this hc list since you guys liked the oneshot so much, giving you guys a little peek of what happens after the oneshot. i’m finally moved and currently unpacking at my new place, i’ll be working on requests and opening them back up soon. hope you guys enjoy, pls reblog and like if you do <3

husband!leon who buys you all the food your body deserves. anything for his wife and his growing baby inside of you.

husband!leon who helps you plan and decorate the nursery for your child. he’s just happy he gets to be a dad, especially with you involved.

husband!leon who drives you to all of your doctors appointments, always having tears pool in his eyes whenever he sees your guys growing child on the ultrasound.

husband!leon who always lets you pick whatever you want for dinner, even if it’s not something he wants. as long as your happy and you get what you want.

husband!leon who massages your swollen feet after you complain how much they hurt. rubbing your calves and legs just to make sure your comfy. he wants what’s best for you.

husband!leon who rubs your belly when you both are laying in bed together, pressing kisses to it and talking to the unborn baby. he knows the baby can’t fully hear him yet but he’s too excited.

husband!leon who helps you pick out stuff for the baby to wear after you find out the gender. cute little onesies and footies, stuffed animals and whatever else your heart desires. only the best for his wife and his baby.

husband!leon who hangs up all the ultrasounds up on the fridge like a kid displaying artwork, he likes watching his baby grow. he’s still having a hard time believing he’s a father even if the evidence is right in front of him.

husband!leon who will go down on you because you can’t even touch yourself, making you moan and whimper. he knows the hormones make you more susceptible and more horny, he doesn’t mind one bit. knowing he’s the one that gets to ravish you when you’ve been pent up.

husband!leon who loves the fact that he can still fuck you like your not carrying his kid, practically crying on his cock as he pounds into you, rubbing your swollen tits and pressing kisses all over your body, caressing your belly. he knows you love it, giving each other what you want.

husband!leon who is the king of aftercare, especially when your pregnant. he helps you take a bath afterwards. giving you bubbles and even going so far as to getting in with you and massaging your back.

husband!leon who watches you struggle with the simple tasks you used to do before you were pregnant. if you need something from a shelf because it hurts for you to reach, he grabs it for you. if you can’t stop crying over the most simplest things, he hands you some tissues and holds your hand. he’s supporting you the whole way through this because you need it.

husband!leon who lets you lay on the couch on days your not feeling the best, letting you watch whatever your heart desires. even if it’s something he can’t even stand like the bachelorette or some bad reality tv show.

husband!leon who watches you open presents for the baby shower. your happy, opening little onesies and gifts from your guys friends and family. watching your mom cry happy tears when you open her gift; your stuffed bear from when you were a baby.

husband!leon who watches you hug your mom, stuffed bear still in your hand and tears pouring out of your eyes. he knows that you have been dealing with a lot going through this pregnancy and he’s just happy that your getting some joy out of it.

husband!leon who lets you have whatever weird craving your wanting. even if it’s pickles and frosting or peanut butter and graham crackers. he lets you have whatever you want, within reason, letting you have the cravings that make you and the baby happy.

husband!leon who when your doing the dishes, your water breaks. he doesn’t think first, he acts. he gets the bag that he’d packed and grabs you. he’s nervous but he’s doing his best to push his own nerves aside and get you and the baby to the hospital.

husband!leon who practically speeds down the interstate to get you to the hospital on time. weaving through a couple cars and speeding, all the while your hand is squeezing his in death grip as he just tells you to breathe through the contractions.

husband!leon who gets you to the hospital in one piece, your hand almost breaking his where he holds it. letting the nurse guide you into the delivery room to get you prepped for labor. your eyes are wide with pain and nerves, leon just keeps standing next to you, holding onto your hand and pressing kisses to your head the entire time.

husband!leon who watches as you push, push, and push over and over again. your doing so great and he’s so proud of you, being able to bring a life into this world, he’s never seen anything like it. he just rubs your back, the doctor kneeling in between your legs and helping the baby come out.

husband!leon who watches as the doctor tells you the babies almost here, your exhausted frame trying to push the baby out the rest of the way. he mumbles praises into your hair and ear, telling you that you can do it. you can push the baby out, you can get through this.

husband!leon who watches you do the final two pushes, the doctor helping the baby come out. leon hears the small cries before seeing the small baby being cradled in the doctors hands, his eyes watering at the sight. he looks over at you and sees how exhausted but happy you are, your eyes watering just like his.

husband!leon who watches as the nurse cleans and swaddles your guys baby, bringing it over to you. your eyes crying big tears. the baby looks just like the both of you combined, having your eyes and his cheeks. he sits gently next to you on the bed, rubbing your head. he admires you and your guys baby, how beautiful it is. how you did it, despite you thinking you couldn’t, he knew you could.

husband!leon who gets to hold the baby for the first time while you rest, talking to the baby in soft whispers, the babies only soft coos in response. “i’m your daddy, yeah…yeah, i’m your daddy…” he murmurs and watches as the baby wraps the tiny hand around his finger. “so cute…so cute…” he smiles as tears leak down his face.

husband!leon who days after you’ve healed from having the baby, you all three get to go home. leon goes from room to room with the baby, showing it its nursery and giving it a tour, even if his child isn’t going to remember this. he does it all the same.

husband!leon who changes his first diaper in the days following, who does it with pride. knowing that all his practice of learning the past nine months are going to use. he lets you rest and sleep whenever you have time in between feeding and bonding with the baby.

husband!leon who loves that he’s a husband and a father, he gets to watch his child grow. he gets to have that luxury and it wasn’t something he always thought was possible. and with you, it’s more achievable and he loves you even more for that if it’s even possible.

[moonstruckme]

omg ok idea! James or Sirius with a gf whose chatty but just not super crass and May be she comes home drunk from girl's night and is just openly trying to seduce him and he's just so taken aback like who is this person?!

Thanks for requesting!

cw: intoxication, dubious consent but nothing more than kissing

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 717 words

Sirius has never received such determined kisses in his life. 

He turns his lips from yours, smearing them over your brow in consolation when you make a piteous, dejected sound he’s going to pretend for your benefit isn’t hilarious. You keep planting kisses on his jaw, his neck. Sirius catches your wrists in his hands when you start pulling up the hem of his shirt. 

“Hey, hey,” he laughs. “What happened to ‘hello’? Is this how we greet each other now, sweetness?” 

The kisses had begun the second he’d shut the door on your friends. They’d chatted for a minute before that, and you’d had this strange smile on your face as you waited for them to go. At the time, Sirius had chalked it up to your obvious inebriation, but now he knows it for depravity. 

“Preferably,” you mumble, mouth busy with the bits of chest you can get at by pulling down the collar of his shirt. Sirius isn’t sure whether you can’t stand on your own or whether you’ve just decided pressing yourself fully against him is the way to go. Any other time, he really wouldn’t be opposed. 

“What’s gotten into you?” he asks, delighted and exercising every ounce of self restraint in his battered soul to keep from kissing you back. He starts pulling you towards the couch, your uncoordinated feet following behind. 

You pause in your ravishment to grin up at him. You look positively impish. “Like, d’you want a list?” 

Sirius laughs, astonished. “What happened to my shy girl? Were you freaky fridayed by someone in the club?” 

“Freaky fridayed in the club.” You snort, flopping down onto the couch when he does and immediately getting into his lap. “That could mean lots of things.” 

Sirius feels a tug on his mouth. “Such as?” 

You bury your head in his neck, voice vibrating against his skin. “It’d make a good band name.” 

“It might,” he agrees, taking your face between both hands and removing you from him like a leech. A very pretty, beloved leech. “Do you feel like it might be time for bed, lovebug?” 

Your eyes spark. “Yeah,” you say heartily. 

“To sleep,” he clarifies. 

“Oh.” Your face falls. “Well, no. I thought we could have sex first.” 

Sirius guffaws, the sound short and loud, and his amusement really only worsens when you frown sullenly.

“Baby,” he tries gentling his tone, “I would love that, but you know why we can’t.” 

“Why?” you ask obstinately. 

Sirius pushes his thumbs into your cheeks, making wishful dimples on either side of your frown. “Because of what’s gotten into you.” 

“But I want to,” you whine. 

He pouts right back at you. “Me too, darling. It’s a tragedy.” 

“Not even a kiss?” you ask, tilting your head in his hands and looking up at him with huge, sweet eyes. Have you been able to do that this whole time? Fuck, he’s lucky you’re not often feeling bold enough to use it. 

“I could do a kiss,” he concedes. 

“A nice one,” you demand.

Sirius feels his lips pull up. “Agreed. A nice one.” 

You close your eyes, expectant, and he bends towards you, pressing his lips to yours sweetly. You taste like all manner of booze, but still his girl. You make a soft sound in your throat, lips parting for his, coaxing him in. In an extraordinary show of willpower, Sirius pulls away. 

“Hey.” You look betrayed, and he can’t help himself, planting a quick peck on your nose that makes it scrunch adorably. “You said it’d be a nice one!”

“That felt pretty nice to me,” he says, laughing when you try to move in for more and he has to dodge you. He turns his head to the side and catches at your hands when they go for his shirt. “That’s it for tonight. If you want more kisses tomorrow, I promise to let you have as many as you like.” 

You sigh, giving up and hooking your chin on his shoulder. “Your lips were, like, buzzing,” you mumble, wistful. “It was nice.” 

“Pretty sure that’s just you, sweetness,” Sirius tells you kindly, breaking his promise once more to press his lips to your hair. “Ready for bed now?”

“To sleep?” you ask despondently. 

“Yeah, baby. To sleep.”

[yxngbxkkie]

baby fever (b.c)

this man needs to chill because i can only take so much 😭 ngl, this is probably the most i've written in a while, and i'm really glad to provide some cute fics for you guys 🩷 i hope you like it!

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

“Do you have everything?” Chan asks you while unloading the rental car.

You take a peek into the back seat of the car, making sure both of you had everything. “I don't see anything,” you reassure him.

Chan walks towards your mother's house, presents stacked in his hands. You gently rub his back as you walk up the steps. You knock a couple of times before opening the door, announcing your presence.

“My baby's home!” Your mother's voice reaches your ears, causing you to grin ear to ear.

You give her a quick hug before making sure Chan gets into the house okay. You shut the front door behind him and rest a hand on his forearm.

“Do you need help with anything?” You ask him, moving to grab a couple of the gifts.

“I got it, baby,” he reassures you with a head shake. He leans down to press a quick kiss on your lips before walking over towards the Christmas tree.

You giggle to yourself, gently biting your lip after he walks away. Your mother nudges your arm, snapping you from your thoughts. You lift your head to look at her, seeing a smirk on her lips.

“When's the wedding?” She jokes with you.

A groan leaves your lips as you start to feel embarrassed. “Not for a little while,” you tell her with a shy laugh. Your gaze finds Chan, silently watching him distribute the presents. “I don't even know if he wants to marry me.”

She lets out a scoff, crossing her arms over her chest. “Honey, that boy is infatuated with you. He'd be crazy not to marry you.”

“We'll see where life takes us,” you mention, the smile on your lips growing when you meet your boyfriend's eyes.

“I want to be the first one to know if he does propose,” your mother whispers into your ear as she walks by, joining everyone in the kitchen.

You playfully roll your eyes, keeping yourself from blushing. Chan gives the older woman a quick hug as she walks by before making his way back to you.

“What were you two chuckling about?” He asks, tapping his fingertip on the tip of your nose.

“Just girl stuff,” you vaguely lie, leaning on your toes to kiss his lips. Chan hums into the kiss, his hands grabbing a hold of yours.

He mumbles a quick, "I love you," against your lips, planting one more kiss before fully pulling away. “Why don't we go say hi to everyone,” Chan mentions, squeezing your hands in his.

You nod your head and lead him into your kitchen. You greet the rest of your family, giving them hugs and kisses. You make grabbing hands at the toddler in your big sister's arms.

“Hi, baby boy,” you squeal, holding the one and half year old baby. He smiles at you, bringing his tiny hand to your cheek. “You're getting so big!”

You rest the baby on your hip, lightly bouncing him in your arms. Ji-ho squeals and kicks his little legs into your side. You release a little cry and point at the little man.

“Watch your feet, mister! You're gonna hurt Auntie,” you chuckle, adjusting his legs so they're sitting comfortably.

“He loves to kick,” your sister mentions, walking over to her son. “I forgot to tell you.”

You playfully scoff as she pinches the boy's cheeks. “That would've been some crucial information, Joon,” you tell her with a smile.

Chan moves to stand behind you, and you can hear him coo at Ji-ho. You glance over your shoulder, watching him smile at your nephew. His dimples are present, and you can feel your heart fluttering in your chest.

“Do you want to hold him?” You ask him, turning to face him.

Your boyfriend's gaze moves from you to your older sister. “Would that be okay?” He asks her politely.

“Of course!”

Chan takes the baby from you, lifting him higher for a quick second before resting him on his hip. “Hi, buddy,” he whispers in his baby voice, tickling his stomach.

Ji-ho squeals again, more giggles coming from the baby's lips. He rests his head on Chan's shoulder, his tiny hands gripping his shirt. Your heart feels like it's swelling even larger as you witness your boyfriend interacting with him.

You pull your phone out and snap a couple of photos. He'd make such a great dad… You think to yourself as Chan starts walking around the kitchen with Ji-ho.

Your mother pats your back gently, snapping you from your thoughts. She gives you a knowing smile before nodding her head towards Chan.

“Baby,” you call out to him, capturing his attention. You motion your head towards the hallway. Your sister takes Ji-ho from him as you excuse the two of you.

Chan slips his arms around your waist as you walk down the hallway. You rest your hands on top of his, and you feel like your heart's going to fly out of your chest.

“Everything okay?” He whispers into your ear while stepping into your childhood bedroom.

You nod your head and gently shut the door. His eyes dance between you and the bedroom door. You take a couple of steps towards the taller man, resting your hands on his cheeks.

“Have I told you how much I love you?” You ask in a whisper, gently stroking his cheek.

“Of course,” he whispers back to you, placing his hands on your hips. “What's this ab-”

You cut him off by leaning on your toes, kissing his lips. A moan leaves his lips while his grip on you tightens. One of your arms wraps around his neck as you deepen the kiss.

Chan pulls away from you abruptly, and you attempt to chase his lips, not having enough. “Baby, baby,” he mumbles, moving his hands to your arms. “What's gotten into you?”

You feel embarrassed at how needy you are, but seeing him with a baby has made you a little feral. He gently rubs your arms as you find yourself looking at the carpet.

“I might have baby fever,” you whisper loud enough for him to hear.

He giggles and bends down a little to look in your eyes. “Oh yeah?” He smiles at you, bringing one of his hands to your cheek.

You can feel your cheeks begin to blush, and you push him playfully. “You know what? I hate you,” you laugh, moving past him to lay on your bed.

Chan laughs with you and lays down beside you. “I love you too, baby,” he grins ear to ear before kissing your forehead. He peppers more kisses all over your face. “So, you want a baby?”

A groan leaves your lips after hearing his question. “Not right now, obviously,” you tell him, finding his hand before lacing your fingers together. “But, in the future, I'd like to have a family with you.”

His lips find yours and he kisses you passionately. Your free hand grips the sweater he's wearing, feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

Chan pulls away and rests his forehead on yours. “I would love to have a family with you, baby.”

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n

[sturniowhore]

Can we just keep driving?

A/n: ending is a little rushed but it's still kinda cute?

Warnings: pure fluff, established relationship

Taglist: @d3axplr @mattstrunziolio @bernardsbendystraws

Dividers: @bernardsbendystraws

In which, Y/n and Matt wake up early to drive around LA, but Matt can't get enough of Y/n..

You aren't a morning person, Matt sure as hell isn't a morning person, so the fact that the two of you were up at the ass crack dawn was a bit confusing to you.

"Matt, it's 5am. The sun isn't even up yet. What are you doing?" You groaned with sleep still present in your eyes. Your boyfriend on the other hand was ecstatic. He ignores your question as he shuffles through the house looking for his keys, humming a happy tune.

You waddle through the living room, a blanket draped over your shoulders, plopping down on the couch. Matt watches you and sighs, walking over to you, gently grabbing your arms as he brings you up on your feet. "C'mon up up up!" Ignoring your protests.

The blanket that was on your shoulders falls, Matt swiftly picks it back up and wraps it around your body, the warmth of the fabric engulfing brings you comfort, a content sigh escapes your mouth.

Matt stands beside you, his arms wrapping around your waist. He quietly leads you to the garage, not wanting to wake up his brothers. He opens the passenger door for you. Once you're situated, Your boyfriend reaches over and buckles the seat belt for you knowing your to tired to do anything.

"What's happening right now? Are you about to kill me or something?" You jokingly squint your eyes suspiciously at Matt, he chuckles as he starts the car, one of his hands instinctively goes to your left thigh. "Nothing baby, just relax" he shrugged. "Maaatt im tireddd" you whined, longing to be in bed again. Matt only responds with a pat on your thigh and a sly smile.

The two of you cruise along the streets of LA, which was surprisingly quiet, a comforting silence was shared among the two of you. The yellows, pinks, and purples in the sky from the sun slowly starting to rise made your skin glow perfectly. Matt couldn't help but take his eyes off the road to admire your features, his frequent glances towards you made him slightly start to drift off one of the lanes but he was quick to catch himself.

His hands innocently moved up and down your thigh, the actions caused your eyes to become heavy, sleep threatening to consume you. You tugged the blanket you had around your body tight against you, your head leaning against the window. You felt so safe in his presence. Usually you'd be on high alert all the time in a moving vehicle, the fear of being hit or crashing always in the back of your mind. But not with Matt, Never with Matt. He'd do anything in his power to keep you safe. You knew that.

Matt reached a red light, this finally gave him a chance to fully look at you. He couldn't help but smile at your peaceful state. The colors of the sun rise raidiating against the window onto your skin, making you look like a work of art. Matt always did tell you that belonged in an art gallery.

He didn't even realize the light turned green until the car behind him honked his horn, causing you to jolt awake. Matt slightly jumped at the sound, His eyes widened in surprise, and both hands gripped on to the steering wheel as he drove forward. You look at him and immediately burst into fits of giggles. Matt followed suit, the sound of your laughs made his heart flutter. If he had the option of hearing it on repeat for the rest of his life, he would in a heartbeat. It was his favorite sound in the world.

"What got you so distracted?" You questioned, turning your head to face him. "Just thinkin'" "about?" A soft smile graced his face before he responded. "You're really pretty when you sleep." A blush started approaching the apples of your cheeks, as you slowly sink down in your seat. "You stare at me when I sleep? That's kinda Creepy" you mumbled. He grinned at your words, his hand returning to its original place on your thigh.

The sleep in your system finally leaving, you sat up and stared out your window in awe at the sight in front of you. "Matt look, this is beautiful.. wow" You took your phone out to take pictures of the scene. "It sure is.." Matt replied, not talking about the sun rise, you were the only thing on his mind.

After you were satisfied with the pictures that you took, you looked in Matt's direction. "You still haven't told me where we're going." "We aren't going anywhere." Your eyebrows furrowed, a curious expression appeared on your face "Huh?" Matt laughed at your confusion. "I just wanted to drive around, be with you for a minute without having two pests bugging us." His hand moved to interlock with one of yours. You shook your head in disbelief, laughing. "Chris and Nick aren't pests" "eh they are kinda like pests." He grinned, bringing your intertwined hands up to his lips, gently kissing it.

"We can go home if you want I know you usually don't wake up this early and-" before he could finish his sentence you cut him off. "No it's fine" you glanced down at your connected hands, giving it a tight squeeze.

"Can we keep driving?" You looked up at Matt, a hopeful look glossing over your eyes. Matt turned his head in your direction. How could he ever say no to you? "Of course sweetheart."

In that moment, nothing else mattered to the both of you. The rest of the world was tuned out. It was like you two were the only ones on the planet. The both of you wouldn't have it any other way.