#time to put your money were your mouths are

[writing-mlm]

Can't let you go

Summary: Mark’s been caught on the receiving end of an alien pollen and the doctor prescribed only one remedy. Pairing: Mark Grayson x Male!Reader Word count: 1.6k Tags/Warnings: sfw pollen trope, reader has unspecified ice powers, mentions of the GotG incident, mentions of death of father, secret relationship trope thrown in there, a couple of smooches A/n: I fully posted this with the name unedited omfg

It wasn’t unusual for Debbie to find you on her couch, simply relaxing waiting for Mark to get home. She never minded, in fact, she was glad that her son’s friend felt comfortable in her home. Lord knows that she didn’t for the longest time after finding out the truth about Nolan and the whole pet thing. 

You’ve been coming over for as long as she could remember, your father had been a Guardian of the Globe, passing before the whole incident a couple of years ago, so your mother and Debbie were ecstatic to be having kids at the same time. She remembered watching the two of you run around the house, pretending to be your fathers and making a mess of her living room. 

Nowadays you are especially welcome in her home. After Mark had come home with Oliver, she could really use the extra set of hands to help her navigate suddenly having a… purple half-insect baby. Especially on days she was finding it particularly hard to care for him, you were there to give her a break. Today was no different, you were watching Oliver as he was getting the hang of walking around the house, encouraged by a bag of baby-approved treats you were waving at him. 

You were waiting for Mark to come back from a mission, something about a nearby planet and Allen— he said it was urgent and he’d explain once he came back. Although, that was nearly two hours ago. You were checking your phone for updates when the front door opened. 

You greeted her warmly as she entered and she did so in turn, asking if she had enough time to shower. You laughed, telling her there was more than enough time since you weren’t needed elsewhere at the moment to which she thanked you profusely. When she returned, you’d somehow managed to wrangle Oliver to sleep, something she’d been struggling to do as of late. You were laying flat on the floor with Oliver on top of you, his thumb in his mouth while you were on your phone, using his head as a stand. 

“I don’t know how you do it,” She whispers, sitting on the couch and starts to unwrap her hair from the towel. You look up at her and give a half smile. 

“Viltrumites tend to run hot, so some cold usually helps them relax and sleep, especially on their backs and chest.” You explain, showing your hand covered in a thin layer of ice. She raises her eyebrows, slowly stopping the drying motions while you put your hand back on his back. 

“How do you know that?” She asks and for a moment, you freeze, staring at your phone intently. Before you could fumble an answer out (which undoubtedly would’ve been a ridiculous response), you catch a spark in the corner of your eye and chase it. 

“Cecil,” You acknowledge him, although not warmly. He had one hand pinching his eyebrows and his other hand was inside of his pants pocket. So, he’s a little more than mildly annoyed by something. Which is always amazing news to hear about Cecil. He inhales and looks down at you. 

“Mark is… asking for you,�� He says and you sit up as fast as you can manage without waking Oliver. 

“Is he okay?” Debbie asks before you could. 

Cecil sighs, rolling his neck. “He’s fine. Just a little… incapacitated at the moment. And he’s asking for you.” He vaguely gestures to you and you nod, handing Oliver over to Debbie with promises that you’ll try and keep her updated before teleporting to the GDA with Cecil. With a quick apology to the tax money you just drained using that, you’re in a… nice-looking room where Mark is on a bed, rolling around and groaning. 

“Mark?” You ask and he perks up immediately, grabbing you before you can get a proper look at him. 

“He was exposed to an alien plant while offworld,” Cecil explains as you’re being smushed underneath Mark, his nose pressed against your neck as his breathing starts to level out and his arms keep you in place. “He’s already been through decontamination, so, don’t worry about being exposed. So far the effects are, well, you see it.” 

“Tell him to leave,” Mark whines into your collarbone, holding you tighter and you laugh, rubbing the back of his head. 

“We don’t know how long this will last, so, good luck.” With that, the door opens and Cecil walks out. Mark slumps even more and looks up at you, a pout on his face. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” You coo, stroking his cheek with your knuckle. He leans into your touch, even going as far as to hold your hand to keep you there. 

“You’re not holding me,” He grumbles and you make a face. “What?” 

“You’re making that kinda hard, Mark. I can’t really move here,” Its as if he hadn’t realized it before you pointed it out and he rises to his knees immediately. He has the mind to look half embarrassed as it sits there, lips pursed as he waits. 

He’s pretty impatient as you scoot over, his hands swimming on his knees and he keeps inching forward as if he can’t wait another second without touching you in some way. And you’re not going to be a cruel boyfriend and just let him suffer! Rolling onto your side before patting the free space in front of you, Mark immediately lays down, wrapping his arms and his leg around you while you slowly snake your hands around him. You slip a hand under his shirt and he shudders as your hand starts to get colder. 

He exhales, laying his head on the pillow, watching as you close your eyes and trace shapes into his back. He doesn’t move much but when he does, he’s somehow getting closer to you. Eventually, you realize that he hasn’t eaten since before he left for his mission. 

“Are you hungry?” You quietly ask.

“No,” He shakes his head before he picks his head up, staring at you with wide eyes. “Why? Do you want to leave?” 

“No, baby,” You laugh, opening your eyes and kissing just below his lips. Apparently that was the wrong move because he chases your lips until you give him a proper kiss. “It’s just that it’s nearly dinner time, I figured you were hungry by now.” He thinks about it and figures out that he is hungry but shrugs instead. 

“Are you gonna leave if I say yes?” He asks to which you shake your head. “Okay— but can we not eat here? The food sucks,” He frowns. 

“Course. Pick up some dinner then?”

“Mhmm.” He scoops you up and you shout as he exits the GDA using the roof without a proper warning. He quite literally carries you close to his chest the entire time. You have to hide your face to protect your identity when he stops to get the food, considering he had the sanity to pull his mask back on at some point. 

He lands back home and when you move to stand, he holds you tighter and bites your shoulder. You laugh, a little confused. 

“Mark, your mom is home,” You warn, still trying to stand as he shifts the bag of food to rest between his teeth so he could open the sliding doors. He looks down at you and shrugs, closing the door behind him. 

“I don’t care, wanna hold you,” He says and you give up, resting your head on his shoulder to save yourself the embarrassment of looking Debbie in the face if she sees. You’d been good at hiding your relationship this far and it’s embarrassing that you know it’s going to be uncovered because of a stupid alien plant pollen or whatever the fuck it was. 

“Mark, is that you?” And unfortunately, she was home and awake. She rounds the corner from the bathroom and stops when she sees the predicament you’ve gotten into. “Are you boys okay?” She carefully asks, looking between the two of you before covering her mouth, hiding her grin. 

“We’re fine, Mom,” He nods. “I got you and Oliver dinner,” He sets the bag on the table and shuffles to grab their items. Oliver gets to eat the fries because they’re soft enough for him. “We’re going up to my room,” 

“Keep the door open,” She calls, watching as he flies up the stairs before she looks at Oliver sitting in his bouncer. He laughs and she laughs along with him as she briefly hears you whine ‘that was so embarrassing’ before Mark closes the door. 

It takes him all of two seconds to change from his suit into comfortable clothes, so fast, in fact, that you hadn’t had the chance to grab his laptop before he had you back on the bed with him. Rather than laying, he’s thankfully allowed you the privilege of sitting on his lap while you eat. You’re a little lower on his legs, allowing him space to hold his food but you can tell he doesn’t like that. His left hand snakes under your shirt to hold your waist because you won’t agree to scoot back.

“Can’t we watch a movie?” You ask, looking up at him. He kisses your forehead before he rushes to grab the laptop from his desk. “Thank you.” Opening it up, you eat some of your food while logging in. In reply, Mark puts his food on his nightstand and pulls you closer to him, wrapping both arms around you and resting his chin on your shoulder. 

“Anything for you,”

[yanderecrazysie]

Gold (Yandere! Kalim)

Title: Gold

AU: My Twisted Wonderland fantasy AU

Pairings: Yandere! Kalim Al-Asim  x F! Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes, Naga! Scarabia

Note: This is meant to be a one-off, please do not request a part 2.

All you could see was sand. 

You and a few of your friends had become sick of the endless rules of the Heartslabyul Kingdom. The four of you were very laid back and you didn’t particularly care where you ended up, as long as it wasn’t as suffocating as your birthplace.

Pomefiore Town sounded like a good place to earn money fast. The vampires there would pay top thaumark for blood, especially from a fae. To get there, however, you four would have to pass through the Scarabia Desert. 

You packed lots of water and swimsuits for when you stopped by Scarabia’s massive water park. The water diminished quickly, as the heat dried up your throats. You could feel your skin frying and regretted not wearing sunscreen.

The wind began to pick up.

As hot as it was now, you knew the cold night would be worse. The passage between Heartslabyul Kingdom and Pomefiore Town was small (well, relatively) and could be crossed in twelve hours, including breaks. You had to make it into Town before nightfall, or you could risk freezing to death.

 Your wings began to feel some wind resistance, making it harder and harder to spread them. Sand began to swirl, whipping through the air. You covered your eyes with your arm but were too late. Sand stung your eyes like fire.

Suddenly, you could no longer see your companions. You tried to cry out and got a mouthful of dry sand. All around you was sand, sand, sand.

You knew you should stay where you were and hope you and your friends made it through, but when you turned to the left, the sand wasn’t pelting you as hard. You pushed against the wind and put all of your strength into putting one foot in front of the other. 

The sand slowly calmed and you could see something in the distance. Your heart soared- it was an oasis!

Doubt crept in. What if it was a hallucination? Should you really risk being separated from your friends forever? But your mouth was painfully dry and your skin blistering. 

It wasn’t much of a choice.

You approached the water- clear and sparkling and looking like the most refreshing thing you’d ever seen. Palm trees curved over the pond, casting their reflection across the still water. Even better? You could sense the magic buzzing through the oasis. Someone powerful had stopped by here and cast some sort of protection over it.

You couldn’t bring yourself to waste any more time. You put your right foot in the water and gasped. The water was cold, but not painfully so, and it felt perfect against the heat that you’d been feeling for the last seven hours.

Without any more hesitation, you jumped into the water with a massive splash. A laugh left your mouth, and then another, and another until you were giggling hysterically. You dunked your head under the water and swam around the perimeter of the pool.

You drank the water and found that it tasted good, for water, and very refreshing. After climbing out of the pond, you filled all of your canteens with the pool’s contents. You swayed sleepily on your feet. There was no way you could fall asleep- there was the danger of freezing during the night.

But before you knew it you were fast asleep on the cool sand.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you awoke, it was with a content and well-slept feeling. You opened your eyes and gasped. You were tucked into an orange-red bed with a soft mattress, fluffy pillows, and silk sheets. The nightstand held a clock that declared “11 am” next to a small cactus. The walls featured many paintings of snakes and beach scenes. 

You sat up, mind racing. Where were you? Where were your friends?

The door opened and you jumped a mile. A strange sound came from the slithering of what you initially assumed was a giant snake. But you were only half right.

He was a handsome young man with dark skin, white hair, and piercing, but kind, ruby red eyes. White tattoos swirled up his arms like a message only he could read. The gold earrings and bracelets he wore, including an armband that looked like a snake, matched the golden scales of his bottom half. 

“My name is Kalim,” he said, a broad smile on his face, before you could ask, “What’s your name?”

You introduced yourself, then quickly changed the subject, “Have you seen any other fae? I was travelling with three friends…”

Kalim wilted a little, “The only person I found at my oasis was you. I’m sorry.”

“I need to go find them,” you said, pivoting in the bed and standing up.

“There’s a terrible sandstorm right now,” Kalim said, shaking his head regretfully, “You won’t be able to leave for a little while.”

Frustration bit at your skin, but there wasn’t much you could do if it was storming. There was no way you could find your friends when you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. Worry began to eat at you- the only way they could possibly be okay was if they had gone to Pomefiore Town without you.

“You must be hungry,” Kalim said. As if on cue, your stomach growled. He laughed. “Please, change into one of the outfits in the closet and join me downstairs for a breakfast feast!”

Kalim seemed like the kind of person that managed to get everyone swept up in his excitement. You found yourself smiling, besides your worry and confusion. He made you feel safe, despite you only knowing him for five minutes.

You opened the closet and looked through the clothing inside. It was all dresses, but nothing fancy. You locked the door and quickly changed from your sand-crusted clothes to a new dress: red, modest, and made with soft alpaca wool.

You unlocked the door and made your way down the hall to a large staircase. You carefully made your way down, admiring the paintings on the wall and the vases on little wooden stands in the corners.

Kalim called your name, waving enthusiastically. He sat on a cushion in front of a close-to-the-ground table. You took a seat on the cushion across from him.

The theme in the dining area seemed to be “gold”. Everything, from statues of women to decorations of snakes on the wall, seemed to be made from solid gold. You admired it until you heard a door open. You looked over and were surprised to see nagas in fancy red-orange uniforms.

“Your Highness,” said one of the uniformed half-snakes as she poured him something to drink.

You gave Kalim a confused look.

“Oh, did I forget to mention?” Kalim looked genuinely surprised, “I’m the prince of Scarabia Desert.”

You were stunned. Even living in Heartslabyul Kingdom your entire life, you’d never seen King Riddle, the ruler of your home. And here you were, talking casually with a prince!

“I’m so sorry, Your Highness!” you squeaked.

“Call me Kalim!” he said with a laugh, “No formalities, please- you are a guest.”

The food arrived and your eyes went wide. Eggs were scrambled, boiled, and sunny-side up, fresh toast sat among jellies and butter, pancakes piled high, topped with whipped cream and sliced strawberries, crisp bacon, and hot sausages filled the entire table, with only a little room for your plates, silverware, and drinks.

“Do you like it?” he asked, eyes hopeful.

“I love it!” you replied excitedly. You started grabbing your favorite stuff, stuffing your face like it was a buffet. Kalim tore into his pancakes, ruby eyes watching you carefully, straying from your wings to your face. You were too busy eating to notice.

The sandstorm calmed as you ate. When you were finished devouring a piece of bacon, you asked, “Can you lend me a map? I need to get to Pomefiore Town.”

A shadow crossed Kalim’s face, but it disappeared with a sunny smile, “Of course, of course!”

A thought occurred to you, “Wait, where’s my stuff?”

Kalim motioned for you to follow him. You complied, following him to a giant wooden door. The door creaked noisily as it opened and you gasped to see what was inside.

The amount of gold was so shiny it nearly hurt to look at. Piles of coins, goblets, crowns, and more! He clearly had been working on this hoard for quite a while.

Then, in the middle, was a centerpiece that made your heart stop. All of your supplies were placed on an altar-like stand. Pictures of you sleeping plastered the shrine.

You turned to run, but a giant snake’s tail wrapped around your waist. The shadow was back, and Kalim looked angry. “You want to run, after I saved your life? You would have frozen to death out there!”

His tail began to crush you slowly, constricting like a python. “S-stop!”

“Make your choice!” Kalim yelled.

“Choice? What choice?”

“Love me,” Kalim hissed, voice snakelike, “or become a part of my hoard.”

You spat on his face, shaking with fury and fear. Kalim sighed disappointedly. 

“Too bad, I was hoping you were the one.”

You felt stiff, as though you couldn’t move your body. You looked down and gasped as gold spread up your legs. You were turning into gold!

“I’m sorry!”

“Too late,” Kalim shrugged carelessly, “But if you don’t fight so hard, maybe I’ll move you into the dining room.”

[thechaoticcherub]

Thoroughfare Chapter Two-Old Man

Thoroughfare Chapter Two Old Man

Pairing: Dark!Joel Miller x Reader

Fic Summary: Cross country road trip turns into way more, opening up questions about who you’re traveling with, what his intentions are and if he’ll actually let you go.

Chapter Summary: After discovering something about Joel that you hadn't expected, you plan your escape but things go wrong

Rated: Explicit-This chapter has no sex

Warnings: AU-No Cordyceps, Big Age Gap, Reader is not described, no use of y/n, DARK Joel, Eventually: daddy kink, rough sex, violence, blood, dubcon, kidnapping elements, murder, sexual assault, dom/sub dynamics, intoxication, non-con elements, More Warnings will come with each chapter.

Notes: AHH! Finally got the second chapter done. I'm hoping to get ahead now so I don't think I'll post chapter three until I get a few more chapters at least written. Thanks to my best friend for editing and beta reading. Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list!

Tags: @shivispunk @codenamekitten (cannot remember if there was anyone else)

Fic Masterlist

You didn’t sleep for the rest of that night, you were too focused on what you were going to do. You wondered if you’d be able to get far enough away from Joel fast enough that he wouldn’t grab you and stop you. You wondered if there was a way you could steal his keys and drive the truck away. When the sun started to come up, you had finally settled on either slipping out quietly while he was in the bathroom or telling him you changed your mind and wanted to stay in Texas. 

When Joel finally started to stir in the bed next to yours you feigned sleep, trying to make your breathing deep and even while he slowly woke up. You listened to him roll over in bed, sit up, take his phone off the nightstand and look at it for a minute. Finally you heard him stand up, bedsprings creaking, and go into the bathroom. This was the opportunity to rush out, grab your bag and just start running. Maybe you’d call the cops. You tried to remember where you had left your backpack the night before and figure how long it would take you to grab your phone and charger before running out. Fuck! Your sneakers. When you sat up, you found them discarded near the door. No time to put them on, you’d just have to grab them and put them on later. You were about to jump up when the bathroom door opened and Joel stepped out,

“Oh, mornin’,” he said, shooting you a smile. The memory of him standing in the doorway of that same bathroom, covered in blood was at the forefront of your mind as you tried to act normal. You smiled back. 

“Morning,” You replied, rubbing at your eyes, trying to pretend you had just been fast asleep. You opened your mouth to start making excuses and say you had decided you wanted to stay in Texas, 

“Hey I-”

“Look-” You both spoke at the same time and he chuckled,

“Go ahead,” He nodded to you and you immediately lost your nerve,

“No, no, you,” You said, trying to smile at him like you weren’t terrified just to be looking into his eyes. 

Joel cleared his throat, “Well, I know we were hopin’ to head out west today but I think I gotta stay jus’ one more day here in Fort Worth,” he said, “I gotta finish up this job or I aint goin’ to get paid what I’m owed.”

Was he a fucking hitman? Maybe his job wasn’t actually construction but was just…murdering people. You swallowed. Would him being a hitman be better than just a straight up cold blooded murderer? At least he wouldn’t be murdering for fun…

“Oh,” you said, but then the realization that that meant he would be leaving for the day again hit you. The perfect opportunity to get away from him and get far away from him. You could use some of your money to get a taxi or something, have it take you somewhere to meet the guy from the internet you had originally planned on finding in Dallas. At least then you’d be far away and with someone else. “That’s okay!” You said quickly, “I’m not in some huge hurry,” You shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant about it. You glanced at the clock, it was 10 AM, you had thought it was much earlier than that but clearly Joel had been exhausted from everything he had done the night before.

“Okay, well…what do you say to a little breakfast across the street and then I’ll be headin’ to the work site after that,” He suggested. If you were being honest you would scream, no, no, no! Over and over again and run from the room but you knew that wasn’t exactly an option. He could catch you easily if you ran right now so you just nodded. 

“Sure, sounds good.” You said, and you wondered if your fear was evident in your voice or your face because Joel was just looking at you. The crinkles around his eyes deepened as he seemed to examine you. 

“You okay?” he asked. The image from the night before flashed in front of your eyes again and you swallowed, hitching a smile back up, reminding yourself you needed to at least try to act normal…just through breakfast. You could do that.

“Y-yeah I’m good.” You said, nodding. 

“Alright, well, get dressed so we can go get some food, I’m starvin’” he put his hand on his belly, rubbing it. You got up and grabbed your backpack, heading into the bathroom and trying your hardest not to think about what he had been washing off in this sink only hours before. 

Barely fifteen minutes later Joel was opening the door to the diner and stepping back to let you through first. It was a cheerful little place with a counter and a few tables. It felt almost identical to the diner you had eaten burgers at just yesterday. This place felt a little cleaner, a little more tourist-y, they even sold t-shirts from behind the counter. The one waitress working that morning smiled when she saw you, 

“Go ahead and sit anywhere, hon!” She said, you glanced around, there were a few old men sitting at the counter sipping coffee and eating eggs, then a young couple across the restaurant at a table. You made for a table in front of a window and sat down, Joel settling down across from you. You pulled your phone out and shot a text message to the guy you had been chatting with previously, it was simple and straightforward: 

I’m in Fort Worth, I’d love to see you.

When you looked up, Joel was just looking at you. Your cheeks flushed, as if he had caught you doing something wrong. 

“Sorry,” You said, realizing he probably thought you were rude for texting while at the table with him. He was practically geriatric, he had different ideas of manners than you. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “Just never understood your generation bein’ on your phone so much.” He shook his head, “It’ll rot your brain.” You snorted with laughter but before you could answer the waitress had come over with a pot of coffee and two menus. 

“Cup a’ coffee for either of ya?” She asked cheerfully. 

“Yes, Ma’am, thanks so much.” Joel said, pushing his cup towards her. She filled it and turned to you, Joel was looking at you expectantly, his eyes lingered on you as you answered her. 

“Yes, thank you.” You said, she filled your cup and said she’d be back in a couple minutes before turning to leave. You immediately reached for the bowl of little creamer packs and the jar of sugar, while Joel sipped his black coffee. 

“I don’t think a phone will rot my brain,” you said. It irritated you that this…this murderer would judge you for something as ridiculous as being on your phone too much. Joel smiled around his coffee mug and nodded as if he didn’t agree but wanted to placate you. 

“Have you ever tried just living in the real world? No phone, nothin’?” he asked as he set his mug down and looked at the menu in front of him. Your brow knit and you had to stop yourself from fully rolling your eyes. You focused on pulling open the plastic top of one of the tiny creamers and dumping it into your coffee. 

“Have you ever tried being less of an old man cliche?” You asked without even really thinking about it. Joel barked out a laugh that made you jump as you worked on opening another creamer. 

“You got me there, sweetheart. Nothin’ but an old man cliche, and proud of it.” He said.  You hated to admit how charming he was. The way he smiled so politely, called you sweetheart and you melted at it sent a chill down your spine. He shouldn’t charm you and yet here he was.  You dumped that creamer into your coffee, automatically reaching for another one. 

“Okay, Old Timer, maybe you should go sit with those guys up there.” You nodded towards the counter where the youngest man sitting there had to be pushing 78 and one of them had dripped ketchup onto his shirt. 

“Y’know, I remember when kids respected their elders.” Joel teased, he was smiling. You dumped your third creamer into your coffee and then upended the sugar shaker into your coffee and watched the sugar run out into the mug. 

“I bet you also remember the Louisiana Purchase,” You countered immediately. Joel’s lips pursed, he was trying his hardest not to start grinning, and you had to admit it was fun to banter with him. But every time you started to relax, your heart would squeeze with anxiety, the memory of the night before flooding in. This Old Man was a murderer. He had come back to the hotel room you were sharing and washed blood off of him while humming for God’s sake. 

“You want some coffee with that cream and sugar, kid?” Joel asked, eyeing the way you were still pouring sugar into your coffee. 

“Not really,” You responded, giving the sugar shaker another shake for emphasis before setting it down and picking up your spoon, stirring your light beige coffee. “Just because your elderly body can’t process sugar and dairy like it used to, doesn’t mean all of us can’t enjoy life,” You reached out and patted his hand in a silly little comforting gesture as soon as your skin touched his your throat constricted and Joel’s eyes caught yours in their stare. It had been such a casual touch but with this level of eye contact, it felt like maybe you shouldn’t have touched him. You tugged your hand back from him and shot him a nervous smile before sipping your coffee. 

The waitress came back then and asked for your orders. You hadn’t even opened the menu yet, so you hurriedly glanced down at it before ordering pancakes and bacon. Joel got something called the “Rancher’s breakfast” and said he wanted over-easy eggs,  bacon and whole wheat toast. She took your menus and left you alone again. 

“Y’know for someone so interested in cowboys and the wild west, you sure do like mockin’ the type of people who’d be able to tell you real stories of cowboyin,” Joel said. 

“You mean old people?” You asked. Joel just raised his eyebrows so you shrugged, “Nah, I just like mocking you.”The cowboy thing made you think though. All your heroes growing up had killed people. All the cowboy movies and westerns you loved had bunches of murder and you never had a problem with the idea of running off with one of them. Was this so different? Joel shook his head and laughed, 

“I think this is karma,” he said. 

“Oh?” You asked and something inside you jumped. What, getting picked on by some eighteen year old girl was karma for his murder? No. Clearly that wasn’t what he meant. 

Joel leaned forward putting his forearm on the table as he did, “I was just like you when I was your age, a little shit.” He teased. You let out a relieved laugh and shrugged, 

“Old Man, I’m a lot like you were,” You spoke the lyrics absentmindedly, not looking at him. Your fingers ran over your coffee mug as you thought. About what you were on your way to becoming, about murderers, diners, the spots on Joel’s hands, cowboys, and the promise of Jackson, Wyoming. When you looked up again, Joel was staring at you, his expression hard but indiscernible. You looked at him for as long as you could before you got uncomfortable and had to look away again, you could still feel his eyes on you. Was it completely horrible of you to half wish you could stay with Joel? Maybe deep down that was what Joel sensed in you, that made him feel like you were like him when he was young…a horribleness that could only come from a murderer and someone who…who what? Forgave murderers? Fear squeezed inside of you and you stared into your coffee, Hoping you weren’t about to start crying. Maybe you had finally found the Wild West and it wasn’t what you wanted in reality. How fucking disappointing. Your thoughts were interrupted by your food arriving. There wasn’t need for conversation anymore, just the sounds of eating and asking each other to pass the salt, pepper or napkins. 

*

Back in the hotel room, Joel was getting ready to head off to his “job site” whatever that meant to him, and you were texting that  boy from the internet you had been talking to all along, planning to meet up with in Dallas. Now it was imperative that you did meet up with him. His name was Travis, and he had asked how long you were in Fort Worth for or if you were coming to Dallas. You told him you had no way to get to Dallas so he’d have to come and get you if he wanted you. It was easy to flirt with him over texts, it was easy to work on getting what you needed from him. Male presence as protection. A place to sleep. Someone to drive you to Dallas. Plus, he seemed nice and easy going.

So do you want to meet me at Rusty’s Tavern, it’s across from the hotel I’m at now, so that’s easiest for me. 

…

Yeah, I get off work at 5, so does 6 work?

…

You looked at the time, it was 12. Joel had implied that he still had quite a bit to do and wouldn’t be back until after dinnertime so hopefully 6 wouldn’t be pushing it. 

6 works, see ya then! 

You didn’t want Joel to know you were still talking to this guy, you didn’t want him to have any idea that you were planning on leaving so when he came out of the bathroom, you quickly shoved your phone under the pillow next to you. 

“Are you done in the bathroom? Can I shower quick?” you asked, standing up and taking a few steps to the bathroom. Joel was looking at you in a strange way, you wondered if he had caught the movement of you putting your phone under the pillow in a hurry. Maybe it would have been less weird to not try and hide it. 

“Yeah, I’m about to head out anyway,” He said after a moment. 

“Okay!” you said breezily, trying to convey a sense of nonchalance, like it didn’t matter, like you weren’t planning on getting as far away from him as possible while he was gone. “I’ll see you later,” You ducked into the bathroom and locked the door. You started the shower but decided to wait until you heard the door shut before you got undressed.

You heard the door shut from the other room so you decided you could shower. You took your time in the shower, washing away some of the stress of the last couple days. You let your mind wander to your plan to get away from Joel, to Joel himself and why you felt like you had to leave. Leaving was the smart idea. Clearly, Joel was not a safe person. But when you had run off from your home, had you been looking for safe? You had decided to hitchhike to Dallas to meet up with someone from the internet you had never met before and the only thing that had stopped you was the man who picked you up from the side of the road and the promise of him taking you out west. No, none of this had been safe. Joel had had plenty of opportunities to hurt you, but  he hadn’t. But what were you supposed to do? Forget the sight of him covered in blood? The water was hot and it did a lot to ease the tension in the back of your neck but it wasn’t soothing the unease in your belly. 

You were trying to talk yourself into staying with Joel and that scared you. You shouldn’t want to stay with him at all. You should have already run screaming and yet you hadn’t. You had gone to breakfast with the man, you had laughed with him, joked with him. What did that say about you? Deep down you had always known you were trash, but okay with murder? 

I try to bring you up good but you’re bound and determined to act just like the no goods you came from. 

You had brushed off those words when your aunt had flung them at you. But now, maybe it was just true. Maybe your parents had been trash. They had died like trash, and had left a daughter who was bound and determined to end up just like them. So maybe Joel was what you deserved. You were sad to leave him and so maybe you should lean into it and just…stay. 

By the time you were getting out of the shower, the water had gone from boiling hot to tepid and your skin was raw from the heat and how you had scrubbed it. You left the bathroom in a towel, leaving your clothes from that morning on the floor for you to grab later. You went to your bed to get your backpack from where you had left it but it wasn’t there. Your brow furrowed and you looked on the opposite side of your bed, not there either. Your heart squeezed in fear. No. This was silly, you had just seen it. You turned and went into the bathroom, had you grabbed it before your shower? It wasn’t there, just your clothes, abandoned on the ground. You turned back and opened the closet door, no backpack. You looked over at Joel’s bed, nothing. Your heart hammered so hard you felt it in your throat, pounding out your fear. You hurried over to your bed again, practically tripping over your own feet in your haste.  You ripped the pillow you had shoved your phone under off of the bed. Nothing but empty white bed sheets. Panic really settled in now, you tore all the blankets, pillows and sheets off the bed. Your phone was gone. Your backpack was gone. You hadn’t left them in the car, you knew that. You had them both right before Joel left. 

That settled something inside of you. You had to get away from him. Thank God you had set up your plans with Travis before your shower. Thank God your phone was locked and Joel wouldn’t be able to look at the messages…but who knew, maybe he had some criminal way of  breaking into your phone. 

Despair washed over you. No phone. No backpack. Only the cash you had shoved into the pocket of your pants the day before and nothing else. You let yourself sink onto the floor, sitting in just your towel, you pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your face into your hands. Your breathing was ragged, your hands shook against your face. Every choice you had made since you had left your house the morning before felt like a mistake. Stupid mistake after stupid mistake. 

Fuck up. Fuck up. Fuck up. 

You looked up after a long time. You couldn’t just give in and wait for Joel to come back. What would you even say to him? No. You were going to meet Travis and you were going to beg a ride to Dallas and then…you didn’t know, but there had to be something, right? Anything was better than your home in Austin. Anything was better than staying with a murderer who stole your shit so you couldn’t leave. You finally got up and put your clothes from that morning back on, doing your hair as best you could. You had another moment of clarity and thought to check and make sure Joel’s truck wasn’t in the parking lot. It wasn’t. So maybe he wasn’t lying about everything. You tried to kill time in the hotel room, but you mostly ended up pacing, counting and recounting the money you had shoved in your pockets the day before. Five ones, two fives and a handful of coins you had grabbed from the counter as you left your house in Austin, maybe as a final ‘fuck you’ to your aunt. When the clock next to the bed finally said 5:30 you decided to take the quick walk across the street and be at Rusty’s Tavern early, in case Joel ended up getting back. 

You could feel eyes on you when you walked in. It was clearly not normal for young women from out of town to come in here on their own, but no one questioned you when you sat down at the bar and looked over the drink menu. You wondered if they’d serve you without an ID, or if it was better to just get a lemonade while you waited for Travis. You played it safe and got a lemonade while you waited. You didn’t have a phone to kill time with so you anxiously waited for this person you didn’t know at all to show up and hopefully save you from the murderer you only kind of knew. 

When he walked in you tried not to be shocked at how different he looked from what had been on his tinder profile, clearly the photo had been a few years and quite a lot of hair ago. He wore a baseball cap but you could see the receding hairline of a guy who was refusing to acknowledge it. 

“Travis!” you flagged him down, he waved and walked over to you. 

“Hey! It’s good to finally meet you.” He said, you stood up to give him an awkward hug. You had been talking for a while so he didn’t feel completely unfamiliar but it was still odd to be there with him as he settled into the barstool next to you. 

“You too,” You said, nodding. “Thanks for meeting me here, honestly, the guy who I got a lift from Austin with is giving me the creeps,” You said, laying the groundwork for needing an out. 

“Oh yea?” Travis asked as he flagged down the bartender to order a drink. You weren’t sure how much to tell him, but you knew you’d have to explain the no-phone thing at some point so you decided to just go for it. 

“Yeah I think he took off with my backpack and phone to make sure I couldn’t like…leave him, and yeah it’s weird,” You said, hoping not to sound as freaked out as you were. Travis’ eyebrows raised,

“Jesus,” he said. He ordered a Titos and Redbull when the bartender came over and then looked at you expectantly, “I got you, darlin’, just order what ya want.” He shot you a wink so you decided to try your luck. You ordered a gin and tonic because it was the first thing you thought of. The bartender looked you up and down, he didn’t believe you were of age for a second but he nodded anyway and turned to make the drinks. When he set the drinks down in front of you, it was a relief to have something that might numb you a little to how weird these last couple days had been. You sipped it. You talked a little about Joel with Travis, telling him he never made a pass at you but he just gave you the creeps and now he had stolen your shit you wanted to get away from him and fast. You moved on briefly to stuff about Travis’ job, his roommates and how they were all out tonight anyway. It felt like he was dropping hints. You worked your way through your drink and he leaned into you to talk more and more as the bar got louder with more people coming in. 

“You still lookin’ for a way to Dallas?” Travis asked as he flagged down the bartender again and indicated he wanted another round for both of you. 

“Yeah, I mean…” you trailed off, trying to think of how to play this. You didn’t want to seem desperate enough to sleep with him for a place to stay…but maybe you were. That thought sent your heart hammering in your throat again. You didn’t want that. “I don’t have any plans up in Dallas but staying with this guy seems like a bad idea,” You mumbled. “I don’t got many options though,” you added. The bartender set down your second round and you stirred it with the little black straw that was in it. 

“I mean, we could work somethin’ out for ya, I think,” he said. Your stomach dropped. No. You weren’t going to sleep with him, you didn’t want it to be like this. You couldn’t stomach that thought. You smiled, it was coy, practiced and came to you easily. 

“Well maybe we could,” you said, you tilted your head to the side, “but I’m a lady and I don’t sleep around just for a room to stay in,” you said, keeping your voice light and teasing. For the briefest moment you watched disappointment register on Travis’ face. It was clear that was what he had been expecting from tonight and now you had pulled a bait and switch on him, at least that was probably how he saw it. Then he smiled, 

“Of course, I’m a proper southern gentleman, darlin’ if you need a place to say, I’ve got an extra bed and no expectations.” He said. What a load of shit. But at least he wasn’t pushing it. Maybe he was a  nice guy, just adjusting what he thought he’d get tonight. 

“I’d appreciate it,” you said. “I’ll make sure to cook you breakfast in the morning,” You said, giggling. He smiled again, you watched him shift closer to you. So he was going to adjust his expectations, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to pull out all the stops to try and get you to change your mind. 

“Oh you better,” he teased. You sat back, feeling anxious about how close he was, how much you could smell his breath and cologne. 

“I’ll be right back, gotta run to the bathroom,” You said. You got up and went back into the small, dingy ladies room of Rusty’s Tavern. You took a second away from him to consider everything. Joel was a known evil. Travis was…well, was he unknown? You had talked for a while. You had met him now. He seemed fine. He had taken your refusal for sex pretty well even if he was still hitting on you, wasn’t that just in boys’ nature? 

You felt itchy. This was the type of “no good” shit your aunt would accuse you of. Using your charms to get what you wanted. In this case, a way out of a bad situation, a place to stay. But was forgiving and forgetting a murder worse? Yes. Of course. You splashed water on your face, washed your hands and returned to the bar. Travis had gotten you another drink while you were gone. You drank it, trying to make sure you would have the nerve to get in his car without your phone and head off to Dallas. You had gotten the nerve to leave home, to hitchhike, to accept a ride from a complete stranger. This was no different. This was just as easy, and getting easier every second. Talking to Travis was a lot easier now, you told him about leaving home, about how your Aunt had raised you. You talked about Joel again, maybe too much. He kept looking away when you brought him up. So you stopped bringing him up and let Travis guide the conversation. Favorite music. Favorite movies. If you had been on any good dates recently. How many boyfriends you’d had, what your body count was, what his was. His hand found its way to your thigh and it was easy to let him keep it there. You tried your hardest to giggle and brush off his comments and questions like they weren’t invasive, like they weren’t clearly trying to push this somewhere that you had said wasn’t going to happen. Maybe it wasn’t so bad to allow him to think there was a chance something could happen. 

You hadn’t realized how much you were drinking until the room started to tilt as you sat up on your stool, glancing around. Wait…no, you hadn’t had this much? The room shouldn’t be blackening around the edges, you shouldn’t be slipping in and out of focus just as you sat there. Not after…what…three drinks? That you hadn’t even finished? You rubbed your eyes. 

“You okay?” Travis asked, his hand had been firmly on your thigh this whole time, now it started to rub up your jeans, higher and higher on your thigh, fingers pressing in. You felt suffocated by his hand, heat rising in your cheeks, and the world tilting around your vision. 

“Y-yeah,” You heard yourself mumble and you unsteadily pushed yourself off of your stool. You stumbled and had to grab the bar to steady yourself. Your body felt heavy. You had been drunk before. You knew what drunk felt like, but this wasn’t it…or was it? Were the drinks just strong? No…you felt hot and itchy all over. Something was wrong but you couldn’t form thoughts to try and put it to words. Bathroom. You needed cold water on your face. “I…bath…gotta” You shook your head and tried to take a stumbling step forward. Travis caught your arm, 

“Whoa there, honey,” he laughed. “You’ve had a lot to drink, I guess.” He said with another chuckle that didn’t sound right, it sounded far away. 

“N-No,  I…dint…jus” You heard yourself slurring but there was nothing you could do to stop it. Travis put his arm around your waist, tugging you into his side and holding you up right. His fingers dug into your ribs, his breath was against your neck as you felt your toes drag across the floor of the bar. You could see the flickering lights in the windows as you got to the door, the cool air from outside wafted on your face, a blessing and a curse. You were going to get in his car, go all the way to Dallas, stay in his home and you couldn’t even form a sentence. Joel sprung into your mind and you half wished you had never left that hotel room. 

“Come on, let’s get ya out of here, honey,” Travis grunted, you could hear his breathing sort of begin to labor as he supported you down the steps right outside the front door. 

“Can weuh wait..minute…hol’ on,” you struggled with words and with his hot hand on your ribcage, you wanted to shove it off of you because you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think, and everything was wrong. You were supposed to have it together. You were not supposed to lose yourself like this. Travis was walking you around the side of the bar, towards the back parking lot. It was dimly lit here, illuminated by the neon signs from the front and one lone light over a side door. Between your blurred vision and the darkness, you couldn’t make out much. 

“Aw, would you quit lettin’ yourself fall all over the place?” Travis asked, it sounded like a joke but there was an edge there, irritation. He redoubled his grip on your waist and grabbed your arm. 

“Leggo,” you moaned, trying to push away, you managed to pull from his grasp but you stumbled back and hit the brick wall of the building. 

“Jesus Christ,” Travis grunted. “Makin’ this too much fuckin’ work for me,” Travis grabbed your arm again and bent as if he was about to haul you over his shoulder. You knew if he got you onto his shoulder you’d have no autonomy, No decision, and that made you feel sicker than you already were. You tried to stumble away from him. 

“No, no…” your back hit the wall, the skin of your arms and shoulders scraping along the rough brick. Travis  hands found your hips and he pushed you back against the wall, 

“Fine, you don’t wanna go easy? We can do this here,” he growled and you felt your muscles tighten as you tried to reel away from him but there was nowhere to go. Your head smacked against the wall and your vision dimmed more. You could hear movement, feel his hands on you, pulling at you, it felt like he was going to pull your skin off, tear at your guts. Hot tears added to the heat on your cheeks and you tried your best to catch your breath but you were completely addled. Nothing made sense, your hands wouldn’t move where you told them to and his hands were everywhere. 

You were about to pass out, to be gone from reality entirely and it partially felt like a death sentence, partially it felt like a blessing. No memories of it. No awareness. It was overwhelming heat in your face, in your chest, a heaviness in your body that was so consuming that the only thing that kept you tethered to reality was sudden space between you and Travis’ hot breath. The hands ripping at you were torn away and you slid down the wall. 

“What the fuck?” Travis asked of an unknown, unseen force that had made it so you didn’t succumb to an unknown burn. Maybe you heard another yell, maybe you dreamt it, maybe you heard a choked cry or the sickly thump of fist connecting with face but maybe that had just been something you made up later because after those moments. There was nothing. 

*

I've been first and last

Look at how the time goes past

The music that was streaming into your consciousness was a song you had heard thousands of times before, the lyrics familiar, the strum of the guitars stitched into you from childhood. 

Give me things that don't get lost

You still couldn’t open your eyes, everything hurt. Your head. Your shoulders. Your neck. After the music and the pain, the next thing you noticed was the movement. You were in a car, a truck, rumbling down a road, fast. Your throat was dry and you were slumped to the side in your seat, probably why your neck was hurting so much. You turned your head. 

But I'm all alone at last

Rolling home to you

You blinked, trying to open your eyes, squinting in the daylight. Joel. Joel was sitting to your left, driving his truck. For one second you were relieved. Joel. Known Evil. An old man who bought you pancakes and burgers and laughed when you called him an old man. Who hadn’t drugged you or shoved you into the wall of a dingy bar. The shining second of relief was glorious and you reveled in it  but then you tried to pull your right hand up to rub your eyes and something jangled against your wrist, catching your arm and stopping it from moving any further. 

Old man take a look at my life

I'm a lot like you

You tugged your wrist again as you looked down at it. The silvery bangle glinted in the sunlight. Your heart felt like it stopped as you realized what was going on. You were handcuffed to the door of the truck. 

I need someone to love me

The whole day through

Ah, one look in my eyes

And you can tell that's true

You tugged your arm again, as if that would detach the handcuff in some way. Nothing gave way.You turned your head slowly, taking in the man in the driver’s seat. Joel Miller caught your movement out of the corner of his eye and quirked his head towards you, 

“Hey kiddo, glad to see you’re awake,” He said as you heard blood rushing through your ears, cold sweat beading on the back of your neck. 

Old man look at my life

I'm a lot like you were…

[nhmkhnh]

money talks.

pairings: sugar mommy!cassandra x fem!reader

preface: she spoils you like a vice, kisses like a promise, and loves you like you were always meant to be hers.

author's note: GOOOOOOO BRRRR I'M BACK WITH A NEW PIECE!! CASSANDRA. OH. SO HOT. PLS DON'T JUDGE ME I JUST CAN'T STAY NONCHALANT AFTER SEEING HER EDIT.

wrn: lowercase.

navigation.

cassandra first sees you at a charity gala—alone, underdressed, overwhelmed. you’re not supposed to be there. you snuck in on a friend’s plus-one who bailed last second.

she notices you long before you realize she’s watching.

you're sipping champagne like it’s water, standing awkwardly by a marble column, tugging on the hem of your too-short dress.

then a voice—low, velvety, precise: "you look uncomfortable, darling. care to join me somewhere quieter?"

you blink up. cassandra kiramman, in a tailored black suit that hugs her curves like sin, offers her hand with all the confidence of someone who never hears “no.”

you follow. of course you follow.

she doesn’t flirt. she invests. orders your favorite dessert before you even speak. tells you you're "enchanting" without blinking. tucks your hair behind your ear with fingers cold from her wineglass.

and when she leans in to murmur: "how old are you, sweetheart?" and you answer, “twenty…”

that smile she gives you is indulgent. dangerous. "good girl."

later that night, she sends her driver to pick you up. your inbox? flooded with high-end boutiques, spa appointments, and a hotel keycard number.

you message her: “why are you doing this for me?” she replies instantly: “because you’re mine now. and i like taking care of what’s mine.”

it starts with her inviting you to lunch. not a café, not a bistro. no—the rooftop restaurant at piltover’s most exclusive hotel. velvet chairs, panoramic skyline view, and waiters that call her “councilwoman.”

you show up in a dress she had delivered to your apartment that morning. your first instinct is to fidget. to feel small.

but she takes one look at you—eyes lingering, lips parting like she’s about to say something utterly sinful— “you wear what i give you so well, sweetheart.” —and just like that, you feel like you belong there.

she orders for both of you. the most expensive wine on the menu. imported truffle pasta. she never asks if you can afford it. because she knows. she doesn’t care.

halfway through the meal, you reach for your little clutch when the server brings the check.

bad idea.

her hand lands on yours—soft, but firm. commanding.

“darling.” a pause. her fingers slide down your wrist, lazy. “that’s not your job. that’s mine.” you stammer, “i was just trying to—” “to what?” she cuts in, voice like warm honey laced with warning. “impress me? pay for lunch?” she leans in, her breath brushing your lips. “let me make one thing clear. when you’re with me, you don’t lift a finger unless i ask you to. understood?”

you nod. quietly. a little breathless.

she smiles, then waves the waiter over without even looking. “put it on my account. and bring dessert. she looks like she needs something sweet in her mouth.”

you nearly choke on your wine.

later, she helps you into her private car, the scent of her perfume still clinging to your neck. before the door closes, she murmurs:

“next time, don’t bring a wallet. you won’t need it with me.”

cassandra’s idea of a casual day out is taking you to piltover’s most exclusive boutique. the kind with a security guard at the door. the kind that doesn’t display price tags.

you’re wide-eyed, fingers grazing a silk slip dress on a mannequin. she notices. she always does.

“you like that one?” she asks from behind you, voice dipped in velvet. you open your mouth to protest—“it’s too expensive,” “i was just looking,” “maybe some other day”—but she raises a brow. one perfectly sculpted brow that shuts you up instantly.

“go try it on.” it’s not a suggestion. it never is.

you disappear into the dressing room, heart hammering. the dress feels like water slipping over your skin—luxurious, barely-there. you’re admiring yourself in the mirror when a knock sounds at the door.

“may i?” she asks, but she’s already walking in.

you blink, stammering. “i—uh—it’s not zipped all the way—” she steps behind you, hands ghosting over your back as she pulls the zipper up slowly. “there,” she murmurs, breath brushing your ear. “perfect.”

you meet her eyes in the mirror. she’s not looking at the dress. she’s looking at you.

“take it off,” she says.

you gape. “what—why—?”

“because we’re buying it,” she replies smoothly, turning away. “and i’m not letting you leave without half the store.”

you blink. “half the—?!”

she pauses, glancing over her shoulder with that smirk of hers. “darling, you’re twenty. you get to look gorgeous. i’m forty. i get to fund it.” then, coolly: “try on the red one next. i want to see your thighs in it.”

you barely recover by the time she’s tipping the salesgirl an amount that makes the poor thing stammer—and you leave the store with five bags, two boxes of heels, and a lingering kiss to your cheek as she whispers:

“my girl should never settle for less.”

it’s late.

you’ve had the worst day—class deadlines, part-time shift from hell, and a rude customer who made you cry in the bathroom. you don’t tell cassandra. you try to act normal, keep it together.

but she knows. of course she knows.

she watches you fumble with the buttons on your cardigan. watches how your eyes keep flicking down, shoulders tense, lower lip trembling. she doesn’t say a word—just tilts her head slightly, and opens her arms from where she’s sitting in her massive leather armchair.

“come here.”

you hesitate for a second. she says it again, firmer: “come sit on my lap, darling.”

and like always, you listen.

you crawl into her lap, knees bracketing her thighs, arms clinging around her neck. she lets you cling. lets you bury your face into her shoulder.

one hand smooths up and down your back. the other strokes your hair. she smells like white jasmine and power. like safety.

“talk to me,” she murmurs, calm and low. “what happened?”

you finally tell her. every little thing.

she doesn’t interrupt. doesn’t scold. just listens, nodding slowly, her fingers never stopping. then—“that man who made you cry. what’s his name?” you blink. “why?” she smiles, brushing your tears with her thumb. “so i can buy out the business he works at and fire him myself. no one gets to treat my girl like that.”

you choke on a laugh. “you’re insane.” “i’m rich,” she corrects with a wink. “same difference.”

then her tone shifts. gentle, but commanding: “you work too hard. from now on, you’re cutting back your hours. i’ll handle the rest.”

you try to protest. she shuts you up with a kiss to your temple. “no arguments. you’re mine, and i take care of what’s mine. now let me draw you a bath.”

and she does.

with rose petals. and your favorite wine. and a playlist labeled “for my baby.”

you cry again—but this time it’s from being held like you’ve never been held before.

she brings you to a piltover elite gala. you thought it would be boring. rich old people and overpriced wine.

but no. not when you're on her arm.

cassandra arrives in a custom-fitted satin gown—navy blue, slit high up her thigh. you’re in silver. matching jewelry. she picked the whole ensemble for you and told you: “i want their eyes on you. i want them to know.”

and they do.

people stare. whisper. murmur: “is that her girlfriend?” cassandra just smiles. proud. calm. possessive.

she keeps you close. fingers at the small of your back. wineglass in one hand, your waist in the other.

but then some idiot—some greasy little heir of a trade empire—decides to get brave.

he walks up while cassandra’s across the room in conversation. he leans in, touches your elbow, sleazy smile on his face. “hey. bet someone like you doesn't belong with her. how 'bout i show you a real—”

you don’t even get to answer.

because cassandra is already there.

she doesn’t raise her voice. doesn’t need to. just steps in—heels clicking, expression glacial.

“you have three seconds to remove your hand.” the guy blinks. smirks. “what, jealous?”

and that’s when she does it—reaches for you, pulls you flush against her chest, and kisses you.

long. intimate. claiming.

when she pulls away, her voice is sharp silk: “jealous? no. i just don’t like insects crawling on my property.”

the man stammers an apology and retreats like a coward.

you stand there, dazed, heart pounding.

she brushes a thumb over your lip—smirking now, voice like wine and danger: “now the whole room knows you’re mine, sweetheart. exactly how it should be.”

you thought you were being cute.

cassandra had a late council meeting—four hours long. you were bored. so you got a little bold. a flirty text. then a pic. nothing too explicit, but enough.

you: “miss me yet?”you: [picture of you in her shirt. just her shirt.]you: “if you come home early, i might still be wearing this.”

she didn’t reply. you assumed she was too busy.

you were wrong.

when she walks into the apartment, it’s quiet. you’re in the kitchen, pretending to snack, still in her button-down. you greet her with a grin, teasing, “how was the meeting, councilwoman?”

she doesn’t answer.

instead, she sets her coat down slowly. heels click once, twice—then silence as she stops behind you.

a hand curls around your throat. gentle. commanding.

“you think teasing me is funny?” she whispers, breath hot against your ear. “while i’m in front of the entire council?”

you go still.

“you were begging for attention, weren’t you, baby?”

you nod. barely.

she hums. steps in front of you. “take it off.”

you obey. the shirt slips to the floor.

she sits on the edge of the bed and crosses her legs—slowly, deliberately. eyes dark.

“kneel.”

you hesitate—heartbeat hammering. but only for a second.

you sink to your knees between her thighs.

cassandra tilts your chin up with two fingers, inspecting you like a queen surveying her favorite offering.

“good girl.” a pause. then, silk turning to steel: “you don’t get to play games with me, sweetheart. you want attention?”

she leans in, voice dropping to a whisper: “you earn it.”

the rest of the night is her proving that lesson—with praise, control, and a kind of overwhelming devotion that makes your knees shake long after it ends.

it’s supposed to be just another brunch with your friends.

you sit across from them in a sunny little café, sipping overpriced lattes. everything's normal—until someone asks:

“soooo, you and that insanely hot councilwoman—are you, like, dating-dating?”

you laugh, blush, and say, without thinking: “technically… fiancée.”

the table explodes. “what?” “when?” “show us the ring—wait, do you have a ring?!”

you freeze. realize what just came out of your mouth. you hadn't meant to say it. it wasn’t even official yet.

you don’t have a ring.

but that night, when you get home—cassandra’s already there.

she greets you with a kiss, sees the flush in your cheeks, and asks: “something on your mind, sweetheart?”

you fidget. mumbling. “i might’ve… told them i was your fiancée.”

she pauses.

then, calmly, like she’s discussing which wine to pair with dinner: “do you want to be?”

you blink. stammer. “i—i mean—”

she stands. walks over. takes your hands in hers.

“darling,” she says softly, “i was going to wait. plan something extravagant. paris, maybe. but if you’re already calling yourself mine…”

she pulls out a small velvet box from her coat. “then let’s make it true.”

you open it. inside is the most elegant, most cassandra ring imaginable—platinum, understated, powerful.

your knees give out. her hand catches your waist. “well?” she murmurs, amused. “will you make me the happiest woman in piltover?”

you say yes through tears and kisses.

the next brunch?

you show up with a diamond and a glow.

another gala. another glass of wine in your hand. another moment of cassandra guiding you through a room full of power players like you’re the only thing in color.

you don’t know why you ever thought you could keep up. these people are sharks.

but you’re trying.

so you smile politely. nod when spoken to. try not to fidget when cassandra’s called away by an ambassador.

and that’s when it happens.

some smug, older councilman—twice your age, at least—sidles up beside you. drunk. loud. drenched in cheap cologne and entitlement.

“i see cassandra’s taste is still as… fresh as ever,” he slurs, looking you up and down like you’re on display. you recoil, clearly uncomfortable, but he doesn’t back off. “tell me, sweetheart, what exactly are you bringing to the table? other than a pretty little mouth.”

you open your mouth to speak—but a colder voice cuts in first.

“i suggest you stop talking.”

everyone around freezes.

cassandra is behind him, expression unreadable. not angry. not loud. just ice.

“councilor,” she says, and her smile doesn’t reach her eyes, “if you want to remain a member of this council—if you value your reputation, your seat, or your teeth—you will walk away. now.”

he scoffs, sputters. “i was just—”

“now.” her voice sharpens like glass cracking.

he stumbles off. you’re shaking.

cassandra turns to you immediately, hands gentle, voice low again: “are you alright, darling?”

you nod. barely.

she exhales, cupping your jaw. “i should’ve never left your side.”

later that night, in the car, you whisper: “you didn’t have to defend me like that…”

she leans in, kisses your shoulder, and murmurs: “no one disrespects what's mine. ever.”

you mention it casually.

over breakfast, hair still wet from the shower, wearing one of her oversized silk shirts, spooning cereal into your mouth like it’s no big deal: “i was thinking of picking up a second job. just a small one. i could help with the wedding expenses, y’know?”

you expect her to hum. maybe nod. maybe smile proudly at your initiative.

instead?

the air stills. cassandra folds her newspaper with slow, deliberate care.

“excuse me?”

you look up. blink. “what?”

she sets the paper down. places her spoon beside her plate. looks you dead in the eyes.

“darling. do you truly believe you need to help pay for our wedding?”

you laugh nervously. “well, i mean—i want to contribute, y’know? even just a little—”

she leans forward, voice soft but sharp: “let me make something very clear.”“you do not work a second job.”“you do not stress over money.”“you do not lift a finger to pay for anything that has my name on it.”

you try to interrupt. “but i just thought maybe—”

she cuts you off with a kiss to your knuckles, then pulls out her phone.

“what are you—?”

“sending my assistant instructions.”

you blink. “instructions for what?”

she looks up, calm as the sea before a storm. “to begin the paperwork on an apartment i just bought for you. you’ll need a space to call your own when you need quiet. fully furnished. waterfront view. five minutes from my office.”

you stare. “are you serious?”

she tilts her head, feigning confusion. “did you think i wasn’t?”

you’re too stunned to speak. she stands, circles the table, cups your cheek in one perfectly manicured hand.

“let me provide, baby.”“that’s my job. yours is to let me.”

you’re exhausted.

back from a business trip she arranged for your internship. the city was loud, the hotel too cold, and no one smiled like she does when you walk into the room.

you barely manage to get your coat off when you step inside the penthouse.

and then—you hear her heels.

click. click. click.

she rounds the corner in that silk robe she only wears when she misses you. hair up. glass of wine in one hand. eyes only for you.

you try to smile. try to say “hey, i’m back.” but it comes out cracked. your voice is dry. shoulders tense. heart a little too tired.

cassandra doesn’t speak.

she just walks over, slow, purposeful, and pulls you into her arms.

you collapse into her like she’s gravity.

she smells like warm jasmine and wine. feels like wealth and softness and control, all wrapped around your aching soul.

one hand slides up your back. the other cradles your jaw like she’s holding something precious. her voice? barely a whisper: “you’re home now, my love.”

you clutch her tighter. “i missed you.”

she kisses your temple. “i know. i missed you more.” a beat. “you’re not leaving my side tonight. not even for a second.”

she draws you toward the couch. sits. pulls you gently onto her lap. strokes your hair while your cheek rests against her collarbone.

“did they treat you well?” you nod. “was the room warm enough?” you shake your head. she sighs. “i’ll make sure next time it’s perfect. or there won’t be a next time.”

you laugh softly. she tilts your face up and kisses you. slow. unhurried. like there’s no time in the world except now.

later, when you doze off in her arms, she whispers against your ear—words only you ever hear:

“you’re everything i never let myself want. and now that i have you, i’ll never let you go.”

[headdinthewall]

INSIDE STRESS ── g.clarke ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

summary : during an INSIDE challenge, you lose a lot of money, thankfully your best friend (and crush) is there to reassure you that everything's okay. a/n : first george one-shot, hope it's okay. also might turn this into a series of events that happened on INSIDE? :) content : flirty friends (could be interpreted as establish relationship)

─────── THE SIDEMEN WERE an evil group of boys for organising a challenge specifically at night time. You were already exhausted and drained from constantly keeping up appearances for the abundance of cameras littered around the somewhat-apartment, not to mention the lack of nutritious meals you were served.

You were slumped against George on the couch, him wearing that ridiculous hi-vis vest. Your back used his side as a prop, and his arm came around one shoulder, laying flat on your stomach, thumb stroking back and forth.

You were so grateful for George's presence for this week. Honestly, it was so hard to tell where you stood with most people because they were all obviously here for themselves and already had alliances with other people, but at least you knew where you stood with George.

Friends.

Best friends.

Flirtatious best friends.

You couldn't deny how gut-wrenchingly beautiful George was. You'd always noticed it, always had a thing for him, but now, there was something different about him and it was becoming blatantly more obvious to yourself that these feelings were no longer light, fluffy butterflies in your tummy, but hardcore, heart-racing tremors that you couldn't reign in.

If only you knew he thought the same.

"Y/N! Y/N!" Millie Jo and Farah screamed as they ran back from the security room, sock-covered feet slipping along the floor.

George prodded your stomach, "Y/N!"

You jolted up, hearing your name snapped you out of your near-sleep state.

"Go! Go!" Farah shouted as they came into view.

"Just me?!" You clarified.

"Yeah!"

"Go girl!" Mya whooped for you.

You jogged down the stairs, running into the security room with enough time to spare, and when the ten seconds hit, you typed in the four-digit code, resetting the timer.

You let out a strong huff of breath and relaxed back in the office chair, catching you breath.

"It's lonely being in here on your own." You muttered to yourself.

You'd gotten used to having small monologues and conversations with yourself, knowing that it would most likely be used in production to fill gaps of the show when no drama or challenges were happening.

Your head flicked to the side as the screen changes, the words 'BACK TO SCHOOL' being presented on the television. You frowned in confusion but then the door to the side of the equipment buzzed and you knew you had to go through it.

Once you were on the other side, you whined, covering your face with your hand.

There was a small desk in the middle of the room, a chair in front of it and the INSIDE cards lay on the surface. There was also a green chalk board, in which a man stood, dressed in a suit and tie.

"Oh my God!" You laughed, recognising the man to be your Year Nine maths teacher, "Mr O'Leary!"

He laughed slightly but said nothing, and you assumed that that was the instructions he was given.

You walked over and picked the cards up, eyes scanning the cards before reading them out loud.

"Y/N, you are now back in Year Nine, as you can tell by your old maths teacher stood in front of you. To pass this challenge, you must answer three Year Nine questions correctly, the subjects will be science and maths. For every wrong answer, $10,000 will be deducted from the prize fund. Put that brain to work."

Your hand covered your mouth and you cursed to yourself and sat in the chair, shaking your head.

You'd barely passed maths and science GCSE, and now your entire challenge revolved around it. This was just cruel.

"Y/N, what is the formula for photosynthesis?" Mr O'Leary asked.

"Word or symbol?" You sighed.

"Either."

You bit your lip, your leg bouncing under the table. "Water plus carbon dioxide . . . arrow?" You drew an arrow in the air with your finger, "Oxygen?"

A loud buzzer rang out and the lights went red, making you jump.

"I'm afraid, you missed 'glucose plus oxygen' after the arrow." Mr O'Leary corrected you, not giving you another second to think about it before moving on, "What is the area of a sector?"

"Whatever the angle is, over 360, times pi times radius squared." You hummed, chewing your thumb nail out of nerves.

The light went green and you silently celebrated.

Two more questions later and you had deducted the prize fund by another $20,000. You were growing increasingly annoyed and embarrassed, because this was supposed to be easy. Some of the viewers watching are probably answering better than you were.

"What is the physics equation for work done?"

You groaned and dropped your forehead to the table, "I don't know!"

"Is that your answer?" Mr O'Leary chuckled.

"No! No!" You shook your head before rolling your eyes and taking a guess, "Force times distance."

The light flicked green and you actually cheered for yourself, breathing a sigh of relief.

All you needed to do was get this last question right and then you could get out.

You hadn't even thought about the timer counting down for the next INSIDEr to be a security guard.

"What is Newton's 2nd law of motion?"

Shit.

"Take the money. I don't know." You sighed, running your hands over your face.

The light went red and you closed your eyes, awaiting the next question.

"What is an isotope?"

"Oh my God! I know this! I know this!" You shot up from your chair, bouncing on the balls of your feet, "A thingy with the same number of protons but different neutrons!"

The light went green and the door buzzed. You'd never left a room so quickly.

Just as you sat back down in the chair, you scanned the TV screens and cursed as the name 'Jason' was on it, the time going down from '00:35'.

"Jason!" You shouted, standing up and running back. "Jason, it's you!"

You nearly tripped on your feet about ten times, but eventually you made it, panting and voice raw.

When you got there, Jason leapt to his feet, ready to dash, but a loud alarm rang out, signalling that it was too late.

"Y/N, you took too long with your task, and therefore lost another $10,000."

"What does she mean 'another'?" PK asked, rubbing his chin as Jason made his way to the security room.

You hid your face in your hands and shook your head, feeling embarrassingly emotional over a stupid challenge, but it was the guilt that clawed at you.

"Y/N?" George muttered, standing in front of you with his hand on your shoulder, "Hey, talk to me."

You let out a weak cry and he sighed, pulling you into his arms. His chin rested on top of your head and one hand cradled the back of it, carding through your hair.

"It's okay, hun." Milli said softly, stroking your back.

You pulled your hands away from your face and rested your cheek against George's chest, arms loosely around his waist as you sniffled.

"What happened?" Whitney asked, voice surprisingly calm considering she usually spoke at a volume of 90 decibels.

"I lost us like $50,000." You croaked shamefully, bottom lip trembling, "I'm so sorry."

"Ah . . . shit." DDG inhaled sharply, "How?"

"They gave me a school thing. It was all like Year Nine questions and I had to get three right, but for every one I got wrong I lost $10,000. It's fucking humiliating. And then I didn't get out with enough time to call for Jason."

"Nah, you know what though, you probably did better than me, y'know." PK said, "I'd have lost way more."

Mya laughed at him, which made everyone else chuckle, even yourself.

"It's okay." George muttered, kissing your head, "You did your best, yeah?"

You nodded, and pulled away from his embrace, wiping your tears with the backs of your hands and hiccupping, "Sorry, guys."

"You're all good." DDG nodded, and everyone murmured in agreement.

"Like PK said, you did better than any of us probably could." Mya hummed.

"Not George though, he's a privately educated twat." You scoffed, making everyone laugh.

"Excuse you!" George exclaimed, dragging you down onto the sofa with him.

You sat facing him, legs curled over his lap and his hand stroking back on forth on your knee. You placed your cheek on his shoulder and his arm fell around your back.

"You did good, promise." George whispered, toying with the ends of your hair.

"It's just embarrassing. How am I 24 and getting questions for 14 year-olds wrong?" You belittled yourself, arms wrapping around your stomach.

"Don't do that." George said, "We all forget things from school. It doesn't mean your dumb, it just means your forgot the bullshit nonsense they taught you because you don't actually need it."

You shifted, looking up at him and he smiled down at you, pecking your forehead.

"Don't cry, poppet. You did the best you could've. Besides, it's over with now. Don't dwell on it."

You nodded, curling into him and beginning to drift off in his arms, completely at peace in your current state.

The challenge and money loss left your mind and all you could focus on was the biceps that held you tight and the rise and fall of George's chest as you buried into it.

[sourbites]

DC MASTERLIST

Most of my works are NSFW and contain sexual themes and violence. Please read at your own discretion, and mature audiences only. Enjoy.

JASON TODD:

Ouroboros (Ride) — Like the serpent facing its tail, Jason's needle of hunger always points in your direction.

"Let me make it up to you." He whispers - breathy and smoky - both hands gliding up your sides. He tips himself closer, his head at your fluttering stomach. You raise a doubtful brow. Just as he'd predicted, you bite. "How?" Jason's smile is brimming with dirtiness. He rolls his shoulders - muscles taut and broken in tonight - nailing you with this impish light in his eyes that you've never seen before. He's just scalding muscle all over. He places a hand, voracious, on your thigh. "Come put that pussy on my face."

Pulling Teeth — He works for himself. You're in cahoots with Black Mask. He's not your boss exactly, but you're close enough that Jason comes back to you for your in-the-know experience with a particular deal.

He smelled of chaos: gunsmoke and gasoline, leather. Too loud, too attention-grabbing in a red helmet. In his usual Jason fashion - as you'd come to recognise it - he twisted your arm with an offer of enough money for you to end your night early. You could still feel it: that restrained wonder at the first time you saw him in person. Your gaze was split between him and the neon-sign-illuminated roads. It was back when everything was exciting. You'd told him back then, You haven't paid me, when he climbed out of the car, still facing you. It was like you were magnets— faces pulling together, poles always oddly close. Haven't I? He held up your wallet between two gloved fingers, tossing it through your rolled-down window. It was a manual car, some shitty '98 Ford Escort. You'd set aside the impressed thought, replacing it with a scowl you sent his way. You remember glaring at him, uttering something about privacy, even though Jason merely shrugged. But we're not fighting, are we? I'd bet it has something t' do with that gift in your wallet. You replayed every second of that interaction, swearing you'd never drive him again. You'd say that to yourself every time you picked him up.

(You love the) Violence, Baby — You might sport the same Bat symbol, but Jason wants to bite your throat out, and you want to sock him in the face.

It was always going to end up like this. There's (admittedly) volatile chemistry that makes you want to explode. Everything between you is unsaid, drunk by the ghosts along the way from your minds to your mouths. There's the sickly sweet feeling of adrenaline pouring into your bodies still— because you're never really out of uniform. Not in this field. Nearly dying is a delicious aphrodisiac that you gulp by the gallon. He winds you up like a toy, insides coiled and threatening to burst. You're battered into the wall like he's got something to prove.

[urfavangelss]

warnings:smut,rough sex,boss fucking,after dinner,a little bit of fluff at the end credits to @angelx,"Filling you under mine",I just couldn't help to not continue it,love her stories!!💕

“Dinner. Aftercare. And round two.”,those words hit like a brick,hitting right in-between your legs,where they were intended to hit

you found herself dolling up,putting on that glamorous sparkly short dress your bought a couple of days ago, curling your hair,and putting on makeup,just a little bit though.

since the job payed AMAZING(a̶n̶d̶ ̶s̶i̶n̶c̶e̶ ̶B̶a̶k̶u̶g̶o̶u̶ ̶h̶a̶d̶ ̶t̶a̶k̶e̶n̶ ̶a̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶h̶e̶r̶) you propped yourself onto black Louis Vuitton heels,looking at yourself a couple of times in the vanity mirror next to you to make sure you looked gorgeous for Katsuki.

you rushed out of her apartment, grabbing her purse and keys,your heels clanked against the pavement,making sounds to let people know what you're wearing and who you're wearing it for.

you heard a loud car beep,turned around only to see Bakugou waiting for her,in a sexy black Porsche,smirking as soon as he saw how short the dress was,even if he knew he was going to discard it later.

"All dolled up for me, sweetheart?"Bakugou teased, making your knees tremble

you only nodded, couldn't make a sound due to the mild distraction of a man Infront of you.

you sat down on the passenger seat,as soon as you did so you felt a big hand press against your thigh, making you shiver completely.

you drove in silence, the only thing from making you go bonkers was the faint car music in the background and his hand stroking up and down your thigh

"Almost there"he said in a gravelly voice,making you clench your thighs together "You have no idea how hard I'm gonna destroy you later"

you looked at him and gulped flustered and he just smirked wider,stopping the car and making his way out to hold your door.

Bakugou held you by the waist as you made your way into the restaurant, popular rap music being tuned on inside,it looked really fancy,flowers,marble and other shit that made it look really nice!

"Name of the reservation?"the man from the front spoke out, unfolding a book of reservations, looking at you two under his eyebrows

"Katsuki, reservation for 7PM sharp"he growled and led you by your curves,following the anxious man that had just nodded and lead the way

after looking at the menu, Katsuki hissed,

"Can't even read this shit"he squinted hard.

when you giggled he looked over the menu to you holding a sexy grin,making you flustered and stop giggling.

after eating,he grabbed you by the wrist,making you gasp and led you out after handing the waiter money all in cash from his fancy leather wallet.

you drove back to his apartment that looked more like a pent house to you,marble kitchen counters,jacuzzi in the bathroom and on the balcony,biggest TV and couch you've ever seen with your two pretty eyes,you were quite surprise,being that this man had lived alone and still being luxurious.

Bakugou fastly unlocked the door,grunting as he got in,visibly horny as fuck.he pushed you back on to his long modern couch.

"Pick,whether I'm fucking you in the jacuzzi or in the bed"He hissed

you looked up at him,as he was towering over you panting like his life depended on it,you opened your mouth,your lip trembling but no sound came out.

"I said pick sweetheart,don't make me wait long,I can't handle that"he demanded,oh boy was he horny.

"T-the bed"you insisted your voice not even higher than a whisper,you literally picked the first that came to mind,not being able to pick with this sexy man Infront of you.

he picked you up without warning,walking over to his bed and plopping you onto it,you yelped,making his cock twitch as he saw parts of your panties from under your short dress.

he turned you around so you were on all four,perking your plump little ass for him,he unzipped the dress,falling over you

"Shit,baby"he groaned,sliding your barely covering thong to the side and unclasping your bra.

quickly,he unbuckled his belt,and sliding his boxers to his knees,dick sprung free,hard, glistening,with pre cum oozing out of the top from even seeing you like this.

"You know what you do to me with that thing you call underwear"he grunted and stroked himself a few times before plunging deep into you.

your pussy twitched,a whimper escaping your "innocent" lips,he was about to show you how not innocent you were as soon as you were being demolished and pumped into by him.

he thrusted hard and deep into you, bruising your cervix with every pump,you clenched around him,getting a slap on the ass as an approval.

"Ah-fuck-you little minx"he groaned,his hips slapping against your ass,he was holding your hips so hard you thought they'd be bruised as hell.

"Mm-K-katsuki!"was the only thing you could moan out as your tight little pussy was burning against his long girthy dick.

"Sh-im gon' cum"he grunted and held your hips tightly before erupting like a 7th grade science class volcano inside of you,oozing down your legs,pulling out to see the cum oozing out your pussy.

you fell chest front into the bed, playing with your sore nipples as he slapped your ass once more before putting his boxers back on and your thong back on.

"We should go shower,don't wanna be late for work tomorrow,and your ass is not going"Bakugou granted you a non-work day for as a reward for being a good girl.

you stepped into the shower,he was humming behind you,washing your back and smacking your ass once more as you whimper his name.

after you stepped out,he gave you his shirt with his own name onto it, smirking proudly,you two layed into bed,cuddling.

"W-was I good?"you whispered,he loved that sweet "innocent" voice,made him hard again

"Amazin',now sleep sweets,don't want you tired in the mornin'"he grumbled and buried his head into your chest as you scratched his head.

you loved fucking with your boss,even if nobody knew about that,it was still your dirty little secret<3

GIF CREDITS: lurking doll and systatic!^^

[mittensmorgul]

Jill Weinberger: And seriously, if you have $5 to give, whatever, go to that Act Blue link and donate, because if the first thing that happens after this announcement is a massive surge in donations, it will be incredible optics and give hope to voters who are worried and also make shitty people really unhappy.

Kevin M. Kruse: Yeah, for better or worse, the initial donations will be the first thing the mainstream media will look to as a metric of "Democratic enthusiasm"

Weinberger is one of the writers on Leverage Redemption.

Kruse is a Professor of History at Princeton, per his department page, "Kevin M. Kruse studies the political, social, and urban/suburban history of 20th-century America. Focused on conflicts over race, rights, and religion, he has particular interests in segregation and the civil rights movement, the rise of religious nationalism and the making of modern conservatism."

(link to the official fundraiser for Kamala Harris for President) (yes at time of posting it says donations will go to Joe Biden, but Harris has filed FEC paperwork that needs to be fully processed before that can be updated. The funds will go to her campaign)

[boyapologist]

lmao are All members of big time rush terrible people irl

[lambilegs]

best friend's older sister!sevika headcanons

contains: modern!au, mentions of smoking weed and cigarettes, nsfw content (so minors dni), not proofread, mentions of porn, clitplay and fingering, cunnilingus, degradation (word "slut" is used), sevika being a jackass and teasing the reader about their clothes + possible inexperience, reader's body is referred to with the following terms: "pussy," "clit," "cunt" and "tits," kinda imagined a younger version of sevika here, maybe late twenties

pt. 2

best friend's older sister!sevika who is always cooped up in her bedroom, whirring noises entering the halls from the mechanics she's working with. if you walk past her room, your body immediately gets blanketed with goosebumps from the cold air streaming in from her window, which is always cracked open so that she can blow the smoke from her weed and cigarettes out of there.

sometimes you run into her in the hall outside of her bedroom, cigarette hanging out of her lips, loud music blasting from the speakers she has in there. if you guys are both heading to the bathroom, she'll quietly nod, leaning back into the doorframe to let you go first.

there have been a few occasions where through the open door, you can see a girl laid out on her bed or sneaking out of her window. all you can do is ignore it and try to resist having wandering thoughts about exactly how good she must be in bed to have different girls over all the time.

best friend's older sister!sevika who doesn't really talk to any of you guys, just ruffling your best friend's hair or teasing her before heading back to her room, leaving the rest of you without a word from her. whenever she walks into the kitchen while your friend group is eating or making late night instant ramen, you feel your face heat up at the sight of her in a tight tank top, leaving nothing to the imagination, from her sculpted arms and the grooves of her stomach's abs. she's so tall, so effortlessly handsome, and you can't help but sneak in glances at her back when she bends to the fridge to get some gatorade.

best friend's older sister!sevika who talks to you for the first time when your best friend leaves you alone in the living room to go shower, and sevika enters through the front door, short, black hair tied back. just the sight of her neck is enough to get you tensing up, suddenly acutely aware of the patterned pajamas you have on and how childish they must look to her.

when she spots you, she raises her hand, mumbling an apology, but you insist that the two of you of two can sit together, you were only about to put something on. the truth is, you really don't want to miss the opportunity to get to know her more.

she hesitates, but gives in, sitting on the opposite end of the couch with you, twisting off the cap of her beer bottle and taking a swing from it, grey eyes focused on the television as you scroll through the options.

when you linger on gilmore girls, she scoffs. and not subtly. oh, no, she scoffs loudly, and you turn to find her lips twisted up into a smirk.

embarrassment and defensiveness make for an ugly combination, immediately arousing an irritated, "yes?" from you.

"are we seriously going to watch this crap?"

your mouth drops open. it's the first time she's properly spoken to you one-and-one, except for the brief interactions during your run-ins in the hall, and this is what she says? for a second, you're just stunned at her blunt rudeness, and you need a second to formulate a response before saying, "crap?"

"yes, crap." she tosses her hand at the television. "just a bunch of privileged little shits."

"the show literally deals with money issues!"

she snickers, and you try to ignore the bulge of her arms as they fold over her chest. "which sure aren't that stressful when you have two blue-blooded parents always there to save your ass."

"yes, but on conditions, though!"

she squints at you, lips turned down into a disbelieving frown. "friday night dinner? you're either just as spoiled as them or really naive, because trust me, weekly dinners don't mean shit."

your eyes sharpen into a hard glare, bitterness spilling through at her assumption. "you don't know anything about me!" with an indignant toss of your head, you mutter, "not that you've ever even tried to."

she suddenly bellows with a loud laugh, the edges of it rough and irritatingly pleasing to your ear. "awe, is someone sad over that?"

you roll your eyes. yes, but you weren't about to tell her that, of all people. "no, don't flatter yourself."

"you're not that good of a liar, you know that, right?"

with a twitching eye, you turn on the show, drowning out the noise of her chuckle with an immediate escalation of the volume.

best friend's older sister!sevika who doesn't stop teasing you after that night. now, when you're in the kitchen and she saunters in, she flashes you a smile that's nothing short of complete and utter self-satisfaction. when your best friend leaves you alone in her room, sevika knocks and steps inside, leaning on the wall and asking you how you are, how's work or school, sometimes teasingly tossing in, "you haven't been here in a while -- I didn't make you nervous, did I?"

you always fight back. partially because your attraction to her makes you feel so exposed and flustered that you want to try to hide it through challenging her back rather than being reduced to a blushing, spluttering mess. you know arguing back might be counterproductive, though, since it seems to only amuse even more. but, that leads you to the second reason you keep doing it. because, as on-the-spot and vulnerable it makes you feel, her prodding comments and mischievous attention makes you giddy. sevika, the allusive older sister of your best friend, is actually bantering with you, maybe even flirting with you. and seeing how easily she bounces off your words, how sharp her wit is, makes you only more excited. unnerving as it is, this little thing you guys have going spikes your excitement everytime you come over.

best friend's older sister!sevika who gets bolder and bolder. when she comes into the bathroom as you're brushing your teeth, looking for a hair tie to get her hair out of her face, you catch her in the mirror's reflection glancing at you, eyes quickly flicking up and down. the double take nearly makes you tighten your thighs together, mind whirling with thoughts, speculating over what she might be thinking.

you get your answer when she suddenly snaps the band of your tank top, which causes you to leap on the spot. when your eyebrows furrow into what you hope is a stare strict enough to hide just how turned on you are, she laughs, the noise low and velvety. "cute," she muses, eyes raking over you shamelessly before she reaches to the hairtie on your wrist, snapping it off and tying her hair back with it.

best friend's older sister!sevika who starts working out very intentionally in front of you. doing pull-ups in the kitchen when your friend group is there, lips curling up as her eyes seek you out. usually, by the time she looks in your direction, you've already been staring at her unabashedly for minutes as her arms flex and roll under her ministrations.

you want to crawl into a hole when your best friend smacks your arm, her face squeezed into a sour cringe. "dude, gross."

of course, sevika totally hears the reprimand, and she wiggles a scolding finger in your direction from her corner in the room.

best friend's older sister!sevika who can't stop laughing at the way you gasp and cover your mouth when you catch sight of the lesbian porn opened up on her laptop, which rests amongst her bunched up purple blanket. it only leaves you wondering about what she was doing moments before, if that happy trail you sometimes spot in her loose, muscle-shaped crop tops leads to a curl of hair between her thighs.

"oh, c'mon, have you never seen porn before?"

despite the fact that you can barely keep a straight face in light of this revelation, you manage to bristle. "of course I have."

"oh, yeah?" she leans on her doorframe, tilting her head down to watch you carefully. "got any recs?"

"if I did, I wouldn't share them with you."

"why not?"

"you would just--" you manage to squeeze out before trailing off into silence. the truth is, the idea of you and her watching the same porn, fucking yourselves to the same video, has your clit aching with desire. but, you don't wanna give in that easily, and just do as she requests. something tells you she's too used to getting her way. "you would just corrupt it!"

she raises an eyebrow. "corrupt the porn? by watching it?"

god, you're an idiot. "yes."

"that's quite a feat to manage."

"... yes."

"this wouldn't at all be because you're lying, right? and you really haven't watched porn?"

you grit your teeth, narrowing your eyes at her. god, she's so fucking irritating, talking to you like you're completely sexually oblivious.

at your silence, she ducks her head lower, and you suck in a sharp breath at the feeling of one of her dark locks tickling your cheek. "maybe you're more inexperienced than you let on. maybe you're looking to get corrupted."

fuck, she has no idea. at this point, the rest of your thoughts are practically zapped into silence from the mental image of sevika laying you on her bed, your back to her chest, with her big hands shoved down your panties and massaging your pussy, using your slick to circle your clit into a swollen little bud. her soft lips planting wet, sloppy kisses on your neck and cheek as she coaxes you to watch the filthy video, laughing darkly when you gush at the two women in it eating each other out. biting your ear, whispering how she wants to do this thing or that thing to you, how she'd fuck you better than anyone in these videos could. her thick fingers plunging into your hole, other hand covering your mouth as she makes you come over and over again in her cramped up bedroom.

jesus, this is going too far. you force your body to stiffen, lest her attentive gaze catches any telltale signs of your arousal. "well, maybe you're delusional."

she's unfazed, eyes darting to your lips before meeting your gaze again. "I'm sure I am."

best friend's older sister!sevika who tells your best friend she'll pick you up when she finds out you need a ride home from your part-time job. she insists this is because she doesn't trust your best friend with her car, so she should be the only one to drive it.

when you climb into the passenger seat, you can't help but feel self-conscious, sweaty and exhausted after the long shift. matters are only worsened by being in such a cramped space with her, the very act of being picked up way too date-like for comfort. you can smell her coconut shampoo from here, mixed in with the cologne she wears. her hands on the wheel captivate you, fingers long and thick, veins begging for your tongue to trace them. her hair, which is still bound by your hairtie, is damp and soft.

she takes you out for food, insisting you "get something in you after a long day" (you're certain she's aware of the innuendo, shit-eating grin present when she speaks). when she takes her car into a drive through, she hands you her phone, muttering that you can turn on whatever music you want.

she proceeds to make fun of every song you play.

ignoring your protests, and using her strong arms to shove you aside when you try to lurch over her, she pays. when you thank her profusely, her nose twitches and she nods quietly. you can't help but smile at her modesty.

instead of driving you guys back to hers and your best friend's home, she parks outside the store. you guys continue to listen to music, sharing the meal and talking. her usual snark is present, yes, but she actually listens to you, earnestly so, as you ramble about your shift. she asks you questions, and listens patiently. her answers, on the other hand, are short and to-the-point, but after some nudges to her shoulder and whining, she relents with a sigh and shares some more details.

as the sky darkens, the conversation becomes a bit more personal, and you see a side to her you've never bore witness to before. eyes soft, gaze downcast, voice low, she shows a side to you that's vulnerable. a side that has the layers of responsibility shed.

best friend's older sister!sevika who you can't help but smirk at when her jaw drops upon seeing you in the lacey, skimpy pajamas you recently bought. it costed enough, that's for sure, but you feel immensely successful. after all, you only bought them after seeing them in the porn video she had been watching weeks ago.

"what-- what is that?" her voice is low, hushed.

you touch the back of your neck, suddenly plagued with acute self-awareness over how you look. "just-- it's just pajamas."

that breaks her out of her trance, face breaking into a bout of laughter. "pajamas? you're kidding me, right? you look like you're about to seduce me."

you swallow hard. well, not exactly. all you had wanted was a reaction out of her. actual sex felt like too far-fetched a daydream to get excited over. you try to brush her off, self-doubt gripping you too tightly to allow yourself to be direct. "please, you wish."

"oh? someone's gotten bold." her eyes wander over your body languidly, as though you already belong to her and it's just a matter of time before you admit it. she leans back in the seat at her desk, mouth curving into a playful grin. "besides, who knows if you even have it in you?"

"have it in me to what?"

she snorts. "seduce me, bonehead."

"well, yeah, wouldn't wanna risk disappointing you after all the girls that have been in here."

you wince as soon as the words leave your mouth. god, how pathetic are you? you already sound like a jealous girlfriend, and you haven't even confessed to her.

luckily, sevika chooses not to tease. instead, her mouth presses into a firm line and she says, "you don't need to worry about that."

you gulp at the earnest words. what the hell is that supposed to mean? does she know just how serious your words are? because it sure does sound like that. the thrill of her maybe knowing, maybe even returning, your feelings has your stomach flipping. "why?"

she fiddles with some diagrams on her desk, flicking a thumb on the corner, before her shoulders heave with a sigh. "for the same reason I haven't had any girl over for months."

you nearly flinch at the words, the sheer vulnerability in them yanking you into an intense fixation on her words. is she implying she hasn't had any girl over for months because of you? because, well, what reason could explain both that and why you needn't be afraid of dissatisfying her?

you can only think of one.

best friend's older sister!sevika who pulls away from her desk, spreading her thick thighs over the seat, and nods you over. "come here."

when your trembling body reaches her, she hesitates before spreading her hand along your thighs. you immediately clutch onto her shoulders, shivering at the feeling of her rough, warm palm scraping along your skin.

the gap between her teeth flashes as she laughs. "liked that?"

your nails dig into her shoulders. you don't wanna give up the game just yet. "no."

"no?" she mumbles, leaning in and grazing her teeth right where the lace trimming of your silk shorts meets your skin. "that's too bad. because if you had confirmed my suspicions, I would've rewarded you." her head leans back, eyes shining under the lamp of her bedroom. "you're lucky I'm nice and will give you one last chance."

fuck. you can't resist, not when you're this tantalizingly close to getting what you want. "fine. I--I liked it, okay?"

she presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh. "finally."

twenty minutes later, she's on her back in her bed, arms hooked around your thighs while you practically hump her face. your fingers ache with how hard they're grasping onto her headboard, forehead pressed to it as she helps you move your hips on her face. your pussy is making all kinds of squelching noises as she tongues at it, the slippery muscle making a mess of spit and juices as she licks you up so messily, no direction, no rhythm, just raw instinct. her hands have your top shoved up, large hands groping your tits and tweaking your nipples. and god, she just slurps you up, drinking down the thick, sticky arousal coating your folds, wrapping her lips around them to run the tip of her tongue along their shape.

"yeah, fuck my face," she grunts into your pussy. "such a little slut, wandering into my bedroom dressed like that."

a choked out moan leaves you, and she digs her nails hard into your ass as a warning. it makes you jerk harder on her face, her nose bumping against your clit just right and making you cover your mouth in panic. of course sevika takes notice of this reaction, and just a moment later, she's rubbing the point of her nose into your stiff clit, shaking her head side to side so that you get flicked with it.

you think nothing can get better than this -- a notion immediately disproved when sevika's lips round your clit and start sucking it in, her tongue darting out to stroke roughly at it.

and that's how you come, legs shaking as you sag against her headboard and fully sit on her face, unable to stay upright. not that sevika minds, groans of pleasure lost into wetness of your cunt.

best friend's older sister!sevika who actually got her sister's blessing weeks ago and was now just waiting on you.

[madamechrissy]

Blueberry Yum Yum

The art in this banner is from my AMAZING moot @sweetlandspos who makes the most delicious Kuna art ahhh! go follow her <3

pairings - Fratboy Plug Sukuna x Nerdy stoner reader

summary You decide to ask your plug, Ryomen Sukuna for a hook up - but can he match your freak!? Just a fun ass oneshot about falling for your hot ass plug - he won't give you free weed though! :') WC- 11k

warnings - college AU, explicit sex, oral ( m and f receiving) Sukuna whimpering, reader is a nerdy lil freaakkk, weed smoking, jealousy, Sukuna talking shit, p in v sex - with and without protection, cum swallowing (both) tummy bulges, back shots, Kuna has piercings hehe, aftercare, Sukuna being a little yandere tbh

Comments/rbs so appreciated if you enjoyy - also I hit 18k followers the other day, I wanted to thank you all so muchhh for following me! :')

"What if we like... had sex?" Sukuna starts coughing up the thick smoke of his purple haze, wondering if it's fucking laced with something as you sit there, blunt in your hand and your legs crossed, casually smoking it as if you brought up the fucking weather.

"The fuck did you say!?" He demands after he catches his breath, you inhale your blunt now, you're by far his nerdiest client, you shocked him when you asked to buy from him the first time.

You scream good girl, certified Velma from Scooby-Doo - annoying  'actually - jinkies' nerd. The two of you even hanging out was a fucking anomaly, a mathlete and a frat boy, one he didn't try to figure out. He enjoyed selling weed to you and smoking with you, hearing your stupidly intelligent thoughts, he enjoyed looking at you too. Sure you were fucking gorgeous in that soft, sweet way.

So what the fuck was this!?

"It's been a while," you murmur, handing him the blunt back now, he takes a huge rip, coughing again as you speak. "If I'm not really your type it's cool."

"If you're... you... I..."

"Shit, it's fine. Calm down. Just was thinking it'd be fun." He keeps staring at you, mouth wide open, and you sigh, rolling your eyes. "Dude it's fine don't freak out. Forget it."

"Forget it? The fuck?" He's glaring ruby eyes at you, while you take a wad of money out of your little black backpack, decorated with anime pins all over and a ridiculous amount of keychains.

"Here," you hand him the cash, fingers brushing for a moment while he just stares. "Shit, I made it weird."

"Yeah you fucking did. Who just says that?" He glares right at you, thin brows low over his narrowed eyes, those sooty pink lashes too fucking pretty and long, god you're jealous of them!? Are they so pretty because you're baked?

"Sukuna, you've fucked like half the girls I know, I have heard you're pretty good at it." He blinks again at that, a rare blush to his cheeks, not fitting his cocky persona while you put out the blunt, letting it smoke against the tray. "Here's the money. Thanks again."

You turn, and he grips your wrist, pausing you, it feels way too good. Not only has it been way too long, Sukuna was fucking hot, every time he got too close you felt that heat, you literally clenched when he just brushed a big hand across your shoulder to grab something. And your boyfriend broke up with you six months ago, you thought maybe it would be fun to fuck him, Sukuna is sexy as fuck and chill. Now you want to disappear, clearly reading the room wrong as usual. 

You suck at that.

"You wanna fuck me? What, like... some friends with benefits? Or one time shit?" He stands, hovering so fucking tall, you turn and look at him, blazed whites of his eyes red, you swallow nervously, eyeing the tattoos on his chest in that thin white wifebeater that's just unfair to wear around you while you're ovulating, you can see his nipple piercings through it, and it's doing too much.

"I thought like once, if we liked it sure we could do it more. If we're both single and... get along... plus you're hot."

"Yeah I am." He grins and you roll your eyes.

"You know... never mind."

"Wait brat, shit." You sigh, looking up at him now, as he turns you to him, his cock twitching just looking at your dilated eyes behind thick glasses, your parted lips. His fingers brush against the softness of your sweater, watching your nipples press against the material.

"It's cool if you don't want to. Like I am chill about it  promise." He fingers the edge of your sweater, blitzed off his ass wondering if you're some fucking dream for a moment. But he feels the heat of your skin as his fingers slip up your waist.

"Think you can keep up with me, huh brat?" He murmurs then, snarky with his smirk. You step closer, your finger drifting up his hard chest.

"The question is if you can keep up with me, Sukuna." He scoffs at that, raising a brow that has two little barbells - eyebrows shouldn’t be so sexy, but then Ryomen Sukuna just is sexy, everything about him from his tattoos and piercings, to his ridiculously strong body. His height, his face… his eyes.

It’s no wonder girls do flock to him.

“Me, keep up with you?” He’s chuckling now, sitting on the couch, legs spread wide, impossibly cocky as he eyes you, acting like his heart isn’t racing when you set down your bag. “You won’t get any free weed from it.”

“I don’t want free weed, and you’re kind of an ass.” He chuckles again, when you sink to your knees however he falters, vermillion lips parted, you unbuckle him and look right under your glasses at him then, smiling just a bit.

Are you… cocky too!?

Sukuna hasn’t ever had this happen, someone just smiling as they unbuckle him with ease, he’s sure though when you see his cock you’ll pause. He’s a solid ten inches and thick as fuck, even if you’re some dick sucking pro, you’re gonna give pause. Your eyes widen then, licking your lower lip, making him ache to kiss you.

What are these corny ass thoughts!? He’s scowling at them, irritated that you on your knees has him, Sukuna, nervous!? Since when is he nervous about shit- and when you’re revealing him, and he doesn’t even help you tug down his black silky boxers, you let out a little whine that almost ends him. His hand enwraps in your hair, and your eyes meet his again.

Why are they so pretty? Why is he thinking that instead of being excited to get a blow job, as usual? You’re running your finger over his tip, making his hips jerk just a bit, moaning softly. “Are you sensitive, Sukuna?”

“Am I… you’re a brat, ya know that?” He glares as you giggle, acting like his cock isn’t way too fucking big, and you’re figuring out if you’ll be able to walk after this. “Stop teasing and show me what you got, running that pretty mouth huh?”

His thumb brushes the plump lower lip, you stroke him then, looking right at him as the rough pad of his thumb caresses soft lips, calloused from years of football but so gentle over little teeth indentations on your skin. You swallow, a little nervous suddenly, before taking a breath and leaning forward, pink tongue lapping at the precum already oozing from his slit.

Sukuna whimpers when you do.

You think you imagine it, this giant man whimpering, but as you lap again at his reddened tip, your hand slipping down his thick length, he does it again, quieter, hand pulling your hair so hard tears prick your eyes. The sight is so sexy you can’t take it, taking more of his thick tip deep in your mouth then, looking up as you suck him, your glasses fogging up from your breath.

“Oh, fuck…” He shakes it off, biting back another pathetic whimper as you start sucking hard then, he’s acting like he’s controlling your movements but he’s just pulling your hair, watching as you make more and more of his cock disappear. “Can you take more, brat?”

“Sure can,” you taunt, pulling back with a suctioned pop, but he is intimidating. But damned if you would back down from a challenge. You have next to no gag reflex, but you’ve never had a cock this big to contend with. You start sucking him deeper, head bobbing, the sounds of your saliva and his cock fucking your mouth lewd in Sukuna’s apartment.

The sight of him losing it as you suck his cock deeper in your throat, until he’s burning and stretching it with his thrusts is far too attractive, you can’t help but clench your thighs, grinding on nothing for friction watching him. His red eyes are bright, pupils shrunk to pinpoints as he fucks into your throat, the mix of need and the weed making you even wetter.

Whatever strain this was, it was making you unreasonably horny.

“That’s it, suck me deeper if you can,” he taunts softly, hips bucking up as he cups your face almost gently, fucking your throat so deep, feeling it tighten as you reach down and play with yourself under your skirt. “Fuck, fuck, fuuckk…”

You’re swallowing all you can, relaxing your throat as you find your clit, moaning then and vibrating right around his cock as he fucks your face. Your hair falls, and he uses one hand to hold it into a ponytail, letting out the weak little whine again while you slide two little fingers in your slick hole, aching for his cock inside you - even if you couldn’t walk the next day.

You’re thinking of how perfect all the ridges and veins would feel while you keep fingering yourself, tears pricking your eyes, glasses so fogged you can hardly see. He’s so close to cumming from just a few minutes of your mouth it’s pathetic, he yanks you off him then, looking down and seeing your hand between your thighs.

“What’re you-” You’re slipping your panties off eagerly then, straddling him and making his breath catch when you grind on his cock. “Let me touch you, fuck…”

“Don’t need it.” He glares ruby eyes at your audacity- he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get to touch your body, your tits that are enticing him with every breath, that soppy little pussy.

“Well I do, fuck you’re slutty, huh?” You ignore him, focusing on how good his hot, heavy cock feels between your slit, whining out when he yanks down your sweater, revealing your lacy bra.

“Fuck me, please,” he huffs at that, revealing a pretty breast and moaning, thumb brushing over your pretty nipple, making you whine. “Ah!”

“Let me take my time, shit,” he mumbles, sucking your nipple into his mouth then, your hands entangle in spiky pink locks, feeling the softness of his hair as his other hand grips your ass under your skirt, dragging you over his cock. “This soaked, how? Haven’t touched you.”

“Touched myself,” he glares again, sucking your other nipple, having both your perfect breasts out for his mouth, while his hands sink into your hips, grinding that cock against your clit then, watching your head fall back. “Mnh!”

“You touched yourself, sucking me got you that excited?” He taunts, only for you to reach down, stroking his cock again, watching the blush on his cheeks as you move it up and down, twisting your fist just so. “Fuck…”

“Condoms?” You whisper, he nods, tapping your hip real quick for you to get off him. When he’s back with a gold magnum from the drawer, you’re straddling him again, but he’s lifting you up, sinking two of his fingers in your cunt now, and you whine out at the stretch. “Ah!”

“God, you’re tight… fuck…” He groans as his fingers curl inside your slick, gummy walls, gripping him so good, watching your eyes roll back into your skull. “Think you can take this cock, really?”

“Y-yes, I c-can…” he chuckles, shaking his head and hitting your spongy spot now, making your cunt gush down his fingers as you cry out.

“Cum f’me first,” he murmurs - he would never let a girl not cum before he gets his cock in her. He’d love to eat you out but you’re not giving him many chances to do shit. He’d love to kiss you, but he’s leaning back watching you fall apart for him, nodding just a bit when he curls them just right in your hole, gasping. “That’s it, can’t help yourself can you, slutty little brat?”

You should be offended, but you’re shattering for his thick fingers, gushing as the orgasm smacks you, rushing all over your body until you’re making a mess, the sound loud and echoing as he groans. Watching you cum, intense as he stares, something you’re not used to - gasping out when he sucks your juices off his fingers, moaning while he cheeks hollow.

He’s tasting you.

The sight has you faltering for a moment, cunt pulsing from aftershocks as you watch him, hearing his moan, when he hands you the gold wrapper. “Fuck, you taste that good?”

“It could be the weed,” you tease, breathless. He chuckles a bit, leaning forward, pressing a kiss on your lips, unsure of what you were okay with. But you meet his lips, and that’s when Sukuna almost cums then and there, he’s never felt whatever the fuck that is. “Mmm, your lips are so soft.”

“Surprise you?” He teases, but you nod a bit, a rough man with plush lips so soft they’re pillowy is surprising. “Take what you want, brat.”

God he’s fine as fuck.

You’re hiding your nerves when you tear open the packet, slipping it over his huge cock, did it get bigger, harder somehow!? Even the magnum barely stretches over him as you roll it down his shaft slowly, watching his sooty pink lashes flutter as you do. His lips kiss yours again, and you taste yourself on his lips, when his tongue slips into your mouth.

A mix of weed and your juices, along with something sweet - whatever flavor Sukuna is.

It’s too intimate then, yeah you’ve last fucked your boyfriend, but you’re not inexperienced either with hook ups or a friend with benefits. You’re choosy, but you’ve done this - but for whatever reason your heart races as he lets you take what you want, as his tongue ring clicks against your teeth, and you picture how good it’d feel everywhere, your tummy tightening.

The scent of the weed still smoking out in that ash tray mixes with his cologne, heady and dizzying, your glasses get so fogged you take them off, earning his chuckle as he pulls them off, sitting them on the table. “You blind now?”

“Literally… I can still see you though.” You whisper, it makes his heart race, seeing your eyes without them for the first time, he cups your face as you rub his latex covered tip on your soppy cunt.

“Pretty fucking eyes, shit,” he curses then, seeing them grow lidded, as your tight little hole starts sucking him in.

“Fuck…”

You both whisper it at the same time, as you sink down on his cock, bit by bit, and he can’t help his moan, loud as his hands move to grip your skirt, yanking it up and using it to pull you down. Your gasp fills his ears with the squelching of your greedy, slutty little cunt sinking more and more on him, and he can’t help but think if he was raw he’d already have busted.

That would be so fucking embarassing, he is Ryomen Sukuna!

He thanks god for the layer, but it still feels far too good, your cunt so tight, gripping him as you move your hips, rolling them in a way no woman should know how to do. He’s pausing you when you do it again, glaring. “You know how to ride cock that fucking good?”

“Show me what you got, Sukuna,” you whisper, acting like his cock wasn’t burning with that stretch, like you weren’t on the edge. He glares now, picking your hips up with those huge fucking hands, slamming you until he’s against your cervix now, watching with a mean grin as you scream out. “Oh my g-god!”

“Ride it now, huh pretty little slut?” He whispers, repeating it again, hands leaving marks on your ass as his fingers sink into the fat of it. “Where’s all that talk?”

You glare, shoving his back against his soft leather couch, moving your hips again and eliciting that whimper, making you smile. “You whimpering, Sukuna?”

“Oh I’ll fuck your vocal chords up next time, swear to - mmm…” he’s crying out again as your fingers grip his soft shirt, and you glide up and down his cock again. “Fucking brat.”

“Mmhmm, can you handle it?” You’re gliding up and down his cock, watching him fall apart even with your blurry ass vision you see it, how handsome he is, feeling his strength as his hands wrap your waist, and he bites his lower lip, brows drawing together as you hit just that spot in your cervix. “Mnh!”

Sukuna groans, kissing down your collar bone, your tits bounce as you work him, and he’s worried you were fucking right, how can he hold back his cum when your cunt is gripping him like that!? He’s lifting you up, slamming you back down hard, you scream out, your nails pressing into his shoulders, and he does it again, again, harder inside you, until you fucking drool.

“That’s it, can’t talk shit stuffed full of this cock, huh?” You don’t talk shit back, your eyes are rolled back as he fucks his hips up into you, holding you right up in the goddamn air damn near and using you like a little fuck toy. “That’s it, gonna cum aren’t you?”

You answer that when he slams hard and hits your cervix again, reaching down to find your clit with the rough pad of his thumb. “Sukuna!”

God, you crying out his name fucks him up, when he rolls it, feeling how soaked you are, making a mess down his thighs and yours, dripping with how much wetness is pouring. “That’s it, can’t help yourself,”

He’s pressing too perfectly, hitting that spot in you again when his tip drags along your slick walls, and you’re screaming out, the orgasm so hard it’s blinding, you’re trembling in his hold while he watches you, moaning at the sight. Your scream is ridiculous when he pulls back his thumb, sucking more of you off him before bottoming out inside you as much as he can.

“Ah! Sukuna…” You cum so hard you have tears of overstimulation, two little ones falling, just making you hotter. Sukuna groans, fucking up into you again and again, wrapping his arms around you as he moves you, and your cries are caught by his lips. “Mmm!”

“Mmm,” he’s lost inside you then, your little body moved where he wants you, your lips parted in screams that he drinks. Sukuna’s close, so fucking close, slowing his thrusts then and looking at you, saliva hanging from between your joined lips when they fall apart. “Fuck you’re pretty.”

“I a-am?” You whisper, confused and fucked out. Sukuna didn’t seem the sweet words type of guy, he swallows, adam's apple bobbing as he pulses inside you, making you whine out again.

“Shut up,” he scowls, you blink and giggle breathlessly then, trying to roll your hips only for him to smack the fuck out of your ass. “No more of that, I’m about to…”

“Cum.” You whisper, rolling them and earning another smack, loud and stinging your skin, just making you more desperate. “Cum for me, Sukuna.”

“Brat.” He huffs, sinking his sharp teeth into your neck, making you gasp out at the sharp tearing of your delicate skin, when you feel him fuck into you hard, his thick cock ruining your cunt, while he’s teeth hurt so bad you’re cumming from the fucking pain.

You shouldn’t have talked shit.

He’s way too big for it all, smacks of skin louder when he uses you, moves you, all you can do is gasp and cling to him, while he’s busting inside that condom finally, slowing as he moans right in your fucking ear. You’re clinging to his back, nails pressing in, screaming out as he pulses so deep, rocking you on his cock himself now, tongue slipping up the curve of your neck as he busts.

He’s never cum like that.

He can’t see for a fucking second, biting back that whine as he nips at your ear, barbell flicking against it, and he feels your aftershocks milking him, picturing filling that cunt up so full then. The thought makes him leak more and more cum inside the barrier he wants to rip the fuck off, groaning out as he hears your little whimper, as he feels you trembling under his hands as the run across your skin.

He wants you all naked, spread for him, hands slipping over curves he only got to see bits of. Wants to see that pretty cunt spread wide for him, shit he felt it - how does it look? How would it look pouring out cum for him? He’s kissing you again, rocking you on him, still hard inside your tight walls, which keep quivering around him, until he pulls back, looking at your fucked out face.

Holy fuck. - It’s all you can think in your head, mouth opening and shutting, when he smirks up at you.

“Think I kept up with you huh?”

“Shit…” You just take a breath, smiling a bit then. “I took it easy on you.”

“What now?” He glares again as you giggle, easing off him, hissing at how sore you are. “Acting like you can even walk after that?”

“I can walk f-fine.” Your thighs are aching, trembling when you stubbornly stand, blushing as you look at the cum spurted into his condom, so much of it too, it makes your throat go dry, wanting to swallow him up next time -

Next time - Would he want one?

You shouldn’t care, but you feel it, the nagging need again that shouldn’t exist, when you grab your glasses, putting them back on and bringing him even more clearly into your vision. He stands up then, walking over and throwing the condom out, wincing as he touches himself, so sensitive and still throbbing, while he watches you slip your panties back on.

“No free weed huh?” You tease, he chuckles then, shaking his head - as if you didn’t suck dick so good he wouldn’t buy you a fucking rock if you wanted to do that every day.

“No way,” he teases back, you brush back your messy hair, giggling a bit when he comes back, buttoning his pants. “Want me to fix your hair? Looks like shit.”

“You are a dick!” He smirks again, but you nod, and he grabs a brush, a flat black one with a wide handle. “You don’t have to.”

“I fucked it up, might as well fix it,” his voice is husky then, he turns you around, slowly running it through the tangles he’d caused, and something feels way too easy, too perfect. Your head falls back a bit, eyes fluttering shut, he’s sweeter than you thought he’d be, that’s all.

Right?

He’s methodically running it through your hair slowly, until it’s much closer to where it was when you walked in, and for a moment you feel so vulnerable, sucking his dick and riding him was intimate, but this feels even moreso. Aftercare is not something you’re crazy familiar with, you were always one to dart out of wherever you were after sex.

But you don’t really want to leave.

You’ll blame the weed and his huge cock, for your mind turning to mush, when he starts braiding your hair. “Sukuna, what are you up to?”

“Shut it, think it’ll look good on you,” he huffs, running his fingers through your strands now. He’d braided hair a ton during endless football events where the cheerleaders joined in, a lot of the football guys were actually pretty good at that and even curling hair.

Your hair is silky and gently falling through his fingers as they card through it, until he holds out a hand for a ponytail. You take one of the few off your wrist when he finishes his work, slipping it over your shoulder. You touch it gently, feeling far too many emotions hitting your throat then at the sweet gesture from an outwardly rough and brash man.

“Does it look cute back there?” You tease, looking up at him, and he clears his throat then.

“I’d love to see how you look from the back,” his husky words are met with a tug on your braid, you bite back a gasp at how good it feels - when his doorbell rings, making him grimace. “Yeah what?”

“Sukuna, open up,” he hears Satoru’s pouty voice, making him sigh, and you step away now, hastily grabbing your back, looking at him. Your little braid is tempting him to no end, to yank it, to bend you over the couch, so much he can hardly fucking stand it.

He’d always found you pretty, but it’s like he can’t get his eyes off you after it, after kissing you.

The fuck is in this weed!?

“Sukuna!”

“God, hold on.” He sighs and walks over, opening the door while you grab your lighter, decorated with some nerdy anime guy you seem to be obsessed with. He’s on the back of your car and on your bag, he noticed.

Sukuna looked better than any anime guy, surely.

Satoru and Suguru are at the door now, holding up baggies of weed, bright blue and green nugs that look way too pretty and fluffy, when their eyes catch sight of you behind them. “Heyy, it’s the hot nerd.” Satoru teases, earning your eye roll.

“Oh whatever,” they laugh as they walk in, Suguru carrying a case of beer. It was the summer after college, but they used to all live in a huge frat house together, now they’ve all moved into this insanely fancy apartment together - you could fit your entire dorm in their living room - as they moved on to their Master’s degree. You were an underclassmen, still a Senior in college.

You remember them all very well, but they’re all pretty annoying. Honestly, Sukuna at least seems to be a little more mature than them, but not by much. He’s taking a beer out of the case, as they plop themselves down, Suguru puts the rest of the twelve pack in Sukuna’s fridge, Satoru busts out the rolling tray and eyes you with insane blue eyes.

“Wanna smoke, sweets?” He asks, and you shake your head with a little smile.

“I already have, and still have to drive back to the dorm,” they laugh again.

“Shit those suck, though I hear there’s a big party at the old frat house this weekend,” Satoru murmurs, handing Sukuna the blunt to finish rolling. When his stupidly long pink tongue laps at the seam of it, your tummy clenches, eyes unable to remove themselves. “You coming, nerdy girl?”

“I don’t know, not really my thing. And should you be calling me nerdy, when you’re wearing Lucemon on your shirt?” Satoru glares, and Suguru and Sukuna snort in laughter.

“You know who that is? Damn, you just got even hotter.” He smirks and earns another eye roll, they chuckle but Sukuna’s jaw tenses.

He does not like someone flirting with you.

Holy fuck did your mouth work a number on him like that!?

“Uh huh, I might go, I don't know. Um…” You turn to Sukuna now, tilting you head back to look up at him. “Thanks for…”

What do you say - thanks for the dick?

Thanks for kissing you, braiding your hair, making you cum?

“Um… the smoke, I appreciate it,” you murmur, not wanting to just blurt everything out in front of his friends. He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, biceps tensing and bunching, you see your crescent nail prints in his skin then.

It makes you ache to see the visible proof.

This was a dumb fucking idea. When you thought of fucking him, you figured it’d be great, it’d be fun, but you didn’t anticipate whatever feeling this was, the one where you didn’t even wanna leave. This wasn’t how you were - you can chalk it up to the breakup, chalk it up to the weed, to the huge - at least ten inch - cock that has currently fucked you stupid…

Yeah, chalk it up to that.

“Thanks for,” Sukuna trails off now too, seeing the evidence of his teeth against your lower lip, swollen from brutal kisses. His cock is back on hard when he also notices how your sweater is hanging off a shoulder, and there are marks along your pretty collar bone from his suction, damn near making him feral as he thinks of it. “Coming over.”

“Yes, of course um… bye you all.” They wave as you rush out, leaning against the door and exhaling now, trying to collect your breath as you hear them murmur.

“Do you like her or something?” Suguru’s voice is muffled, but you hear it, and you can’t help but act like some spy, listening when you shouldn’t for the answer.

Did Sukuna…

“She’s cool, we hang out I guess.” Is his gruff answer, and you hear the echo of laughter. “Drop it, so what’s up with this party?”

You sigh, stepping away, sitting in your car for a moment too long, looking up at the window of Sukuna’s apartment for a moment, wondering if you made it all fucking weird now. You wouldn’t say you two were ‘friends’ but you were cool with each other, and now you were listening if he liked you - as if you’re silently listening on the phone with a friend in middle school or something.

You shake it off and head home, ignoring the gnawing feeling, shifting in your seat at how sore you are, you really talked more shit than you should have, you need a good hot bath after taking him.

Sukuna shuts the blinds, having looked at you as you walked, just to make sure you were good. “You hit it, huh?”

“Shut up, Suguru.” They’re snorting as the smoke fills the room.

The three of them usually share all the details of their encounters, but he sure the fuck wasn’t sharing anything about you - how you are probably the best thing he’s ever felt wrapped around him. How you sucked him stupid - got him whimpering!? - yeah, no fucking way he admitted that to anyone.

*****

It’s been a week since you last talked to Sukuna, and during that week you’re absolutely mortified by the amount of times you thought about texting or messaging him on his IG. Much, much worse, after you looked at some of his gym posts before bed, you woke up the next morning cumming thinking about your fucking plug and his huge cock inside you, fuck it was embarassing.

You wanna message him now even, but he hasn’t written you, and you don’t wanna be the girl who mentions - let’s hook up - then gets clingy. That’s just not you, and it’s not fair, you’d brought it up and it wasn’t like he asked to hook up with you. When your friends bring up going to a DnD match tonight - instead of going to that frat party, nine times out of ten you’d go for the DnD.

You don’t dig parties, and the DnD group has primo weed too.

Sukuna supplied for all of them after all.

But you instead find yourself dying to go to the party tonight - you may even find yourself buying a whole outfit. Like some goofy, corny ass 90‘s movie where the nerdy girl gets hot with a dress, except you sure the fuck weren’t taking your glasses off for that moment, since you’re damn near blind without them.

When Sukuna took off your glasses though?

God.

Snap out of it?!

You may or may not have freaked the fuck out when he hearted your instagram story before the party, biting your lip and giggling way too fucking much. You don’t even take pictures for shit, but you were feeling cute, and that just cinches it in your mind - you want to see him again and not for some weed. You just…

Want to see him.

Plug Sukuna - Hey brat, you coming to the party or doing nerd shit?

You roll your eyes a bit, ignoring the butterflies in your tummy at how excited you are to have him messaging you.

You - Do I look like I’m going to DnD?

Sukuna flushes, looking at your insta story for the twentieth time, surrounded by girls wearing literally next to nothing, coming up to him as he sits on the couch alone - shit Sukuna never did at parties. He was the life of the party usually, beer pong champion, the one making sure everyone had the best smoke or really anything they asked for.

But all he can think of is seeing you again, and he wishes it was just your pussy and not that he misses your cute little laugh - how you snort just a bit - how you push those glasses up your nose. How excited you get as you’re trying to convince him to watch your cartoons - sorry, anime - and how you take a hit from that blunt, just a bit of your glittery gloss on the tip.

He’s got one rolled up right now in the middle of a party with music blaring, mixing with the conversation and laughter of so many people, dying to share the blunt with you, to talk to you - he wanted to hit you up so many times, but he sure didn’t wanna be the dude who got pussy whipped in one encounter. You mentioned casual, one time maybe more- but the two of you hadn’t spoken since.

Sukuna was used to women blowing up his phone, begging for it again, even now he has women coming to sit on his lap, which usually is par for the course, but he just doesn’t find much excitement in it. He happens to have one on his right thigh right now, when he watches you walk into the room - and Instagram didn’t even do you justice.

You look so fucking cute, sexy little pleated skirt and a black top that shows that his marks on your pretty breasts faded - they’re just begging for more on them. He swallows nervously, god why is he nervous, it irritates him!? But he is, as your eyes meet his, and of course dart to the girl on his lap, you give him a little wave and smile, and he curses as you turn away and talk to someone then.

Sukuna unceremoniously shoves the girl off his lap, he can’t say he feels bad about it either, as he heads straight toward you, hearing one of the underclassmen gushing and simping over you. You’re just staring with a brow raised, unimpressed at the fumbling man, when he walks over smoothly with a blunt, holding it out.

“Wanna smoke, brat?” You look at him now, he’s unfairly hot and shirtless basically, unless you wanna call that black silk open kimono a top. You can see those nipple piercings, a fucking belly button ring leading to a light happy trail that makes your brain short circuit.

You hadn’t seen him shirtless, even sucking him.

“We were talking - oh, it’s Sukuna, shit! Sorry…” the boy learns fast, backing up and stuttering when Sukuna glares at him. “Catch you later?”

“Sure,” you sigh, taking the blunt from Sukuna’s fingers now, yours brushing against his softly. “I gotta pay for this?”

“Nah,” fuck he was a dick huh? He always is, but for a moment he feels bad, even though you’re teasing with a little smile, holding the blunt up for a light. Sukuna immediately busts his out, bright orange flame igniting the tip, watching the cherry brighten as you puff on it. “It’s blueberry.”

You inhale it like a fucking pro, when don’t you? Heavy, thick smoke falling out of your mouth then getting sucked back into your mouth. You look so good doing it, handing it to him without even a cough, just exhaling it back out, a smile on those pretty lips of yours. He pauses, unsure of even what to say, as he puts it to his lips, and your eyes drift lower.

Your thoughts are filthy as his, his tattoos curve with his body in a way that’s just slutty actually, black thick lines that aren’t fair honestly. Your body remembers him far too well, when he snatches up two drinks as you two walk over to a quieter part of the party, past a sea of bodies that eye the two of you. You take it gratefully, then wince as the liquor hits your tongue.

“Lightweight.” Sukuna teases, earning a playful shove from you, but your hand pauses on bare skin, watching his rippling, cut abdomen tense as you do.

Fuck.

Your pussy is pulsing from touching his skin, ugh it’s annoying. You know he hasn’t asked you to come over, so you shouldn’t be thinking this badly about him, but how can you not? The memories flit through your mind, his big hands that now hold a blunt and a red solo cup, and how they touched you.

“You look…” He pauses, wanting to say dumb fucking words.

Beautiful.

You do look beautiful.

Your eyes lock up with his, and he’s just sputtering like a fucking idiot, as if he’s never talked to a woman, he notices the shimmery shadow you’ve brushed across your lid as he looks down at you, so small compared to him. Sukuna towered over everyone, he was used to it, but something about it makes him want to pick you up, carry you somewhere and devour you.

Watch his cock in your tummy bulge.

“I look what?” Your whisper breaks his racing brain, he sips his drink and sighs now, clearing his throat and putting on a smirk.

“Hot.”

You blink a bit at that. “Hot?”

“Yeah, hot.” He curses himself internally.

“Thanks,” you trail off, it was nice you guess, but you supposed Sukuna said that to every girl, including the ones on his lap as you walked in. And you really hate that it made you sick to see it, off one time fucking him. “You look good too.”

“I always do.” You roll your eyes and laugh a bit, the sound making him ache, when his name’s being chanted by the pong table.

“You’re being summoned, Sukuna.” You tease, inhaling his blunt and stepping closer, so close he inhales your scent, driving him fucking insane.

It takes so much to save face and not drop to his knees and beg you to just allow him to lick your entire body. And he would, fuck, if you let him.

What is wrong with him.

It didn’t help he’d jerked it to you this morning, and every morning, since you’re clearly some succubus hitting all his dreams and making him wake up leaking pre.

“You good?” You ask softly, he clears his throat then, glaring at the men waving him over.

“Yeah, catch you after I wipe the floor with them?” He teases, and you nod, just a bit disappointed, but it wasn’t like you were close to Sukuna suddenly.

You were just…

A buyer, and he was your plug. A plug you had literally propositioned, seduced. Him being friendly was sweeter than he even needed to be. You put a hand on his shoulder then, feeling the weed hitting - mixing with the drink in your system, but when you touch him again it’s something else.

“Of course, I’ll be here for probably an hour or so, I don’t know too many people here.”

“Tch won’t be three minutes they’ll all be shitfaced and losers.” You laugh at that, but it’s forced, a little awkward.

The party goes on, and every time Sukuna wants to find you, you’re hidden, when he does see you, someone’s in his fucking way. Like everything and anything is blocking his way - why does he know everyone? Right now he doesn’t wanna fucking catch up, or talk, he just wants to talk to you.

He’s standing with Suguru and Satoru, as the three of them are sipping on drinks, and he sees you again finally, emerging from one of the bathrooms, but before he can think, there are three dudes talking to you. His jaw clenches at the sight of it, and he can’t keep excusing it to good sex, or wanting to hit again, it just doesn’t feel the same.

Sukuna can’t stand seeing you getting hit on, he’s glaring right at those men, sure he’s only fucked you once - but that’s enough to make him lose his shit. Suguru and Satoru are trying to get his attention, waving the blunt at him as he scowls over at the pretentious assholes talking to you. Your eyes catch his, you’re clearly unused to the attention it seems, a blush on your cheeks.

Or you like those losers.

Sukuna has been dying to fuck you again, but not just that - been dying to talk to you again, smoke you out, he didn’t say all he wanted to that day. Was it just a one time thing for you? He didn’t even get to drink your pretty pussy, didn’t get to hit it from the back, fuck he has so many positions he wants to do with you, he wants to-

“Earth to Sukuna.” Satoru says, and he clears his throat, taking a hit of the blunt and letting it fill his lungs.

“Yeah?” He grumbles, and their gazes go in your direction.

“You really like the cute little nerd, huh?” Satoru teases, earning Sukuna’s glare.

“Shit, you’re down bad bro.” Suguru chuckles, taking the blunt from Sukuna’s fingers then.

“Shut the fuck up. Just… we hooked up and…” He trails off again, and his friends chuckle, nudging each other.

“So you did, called it. And how was that, is the nerd freaky?” Satoru asks, sipping his solo red cup, and Sukuna scowls right at his best friends.

“None of your fucking business.”

“Oh shit, real bad,” Suguru says then, coughing as he takes his hit.

“Learn to take a real hit, and shut up. Not telling either of you shit.”

“We share everything, that means…” Satoru takes the blunt between his lips now, inhaling and smirking as Sukuna finds one of the men practically dragging your awkward ass to the dance floor.

You are awkward, hot and pretty as you are, you can’t dance for shit, at some point making a really awkward move Sukuna can only describe as shaking dice in your hands. “Is she… doing…”

Suguru trails off, as Sukuna laughs a bit at you. “Some interesting dance move she learned in DND maybe.” Sukuna murmurs, and he’s almost okay with it, you seem to have no interest, until the guy drags you by your hips against him.

That’s it.

“Shit… we strapping up for a fight?” Suguru asks, and Satoru grins, batshit psycho as always.

“I’m down to fight.”

“I don’t need your help,” he scoffs and stomps right over to you, where you’re being grinded on against, snatching the dude’s wrist up quickly. “She’s not enjoying herself.”

“What bro?” He’s clearly wasted, when Sukuna’s grip tightens he winces. “Shit, is it your girl or something?”

“Go sober up and dance with yourself.” He shoves at him now, and you blink in confusion. You hadn’t known how to dance really, you figured you would try, him grabbing you was creepy, but you figured you’d get him off you in a moment, when a giant, tall ass Sukuna had practically tossed the kid off.

You can’t help but feel it more, that tightening in your tummy, when his angry red eyes flit down to you. “Sukuna…”

“You weren’t enjoying that, were you?” He demands, speaking through his teeth damn near.

“Um… huh?” Are you just really high?

Is Sukuna… jealous?

“C’mon,” he tugs at your wrist now, and you follow him, so confused, yet fucking thrilled by his big hand on your wrist, in a way that concerns feminism you want him to literally throw you over his shoulder. “Short ass legs can’t keep up.”

“We’re not all giants over six four!?” You huff as he keeps tugging, and you yank back weakly, who wouldn’t be weak in that hold? “What’s up with you? You’re acting super fucking weird.”

“Am I?” He laughs, yanking you in his old room - no one has occupied it yet it seems, it was for the head of the frat and they probably haven’t appointed one yet.

“Sukuna, you’re acting… jealous?” You whisper, he scowls down at you, locking the door to one of the rooms then, arm on the other side of you as he is pressing you against the door, making you gasp.

“You didn’t like them, those guys, did you?” He whispers angrily, you blink a bit, biting your lower lip, he tugs it out from under your teeth. “Did you?”

“Would you be mad if I did? Aren’t me and you just… hooking up?” You murmur, earning a deeper glare, as your heart races.

“Once. We hooked up once, brat.”

“Once. You didn’t want more, right?”

“You didn’t want more.”

“Says who!?”

“You never messaged me… you…” He trails off, cursing now, and the two of you just stare at each other, your breasts rising and falling with your breaths, as Sukuna’s hands tighten on your face now, cupping it tightly. “Did you just want it once?”

“What do you think?” You answer back, hand slipping over his bare chest now, and then he slams his lips on yours, tongue ring clicking against the roof of your mouth when it dives inside, huge hands cupping your face even tighter. You whine into his lips, body aching. “So do you want more than once?”

“The fuck do you think?” He takes your hand, putting it right on his cock, throbbing and hard, you brush your hand against it, earning his moan.

“Then say you want it again.” You’re taunting him, nerdy fucking brat, he scowls as he tilts your chin up.

“You talk a lot of shit. Think it’s time to get all your attention focused on me now, huh?”

“How you gonna do that - ah!” Sukuna’s on his fucking knees in front of you, making you tremble, breaths coming so fast you cant function, when he lifts up your skirt, looking up at you with dilated eyes almost black, fingering the fishnet stockings you’re wearing - they have no right looking that good on your thighs. “Sukuna?”

“Hold your fucking skirt up, brat. Now.” You blink again, lost at the giant man slipping your panties down your thighs, moaning when your pussy is in his face. “Fuck, knew it would be pretty but… fuck you for it being that pretty.”

“Fuck me for it!? What’re you even doing down there!” You’re yanking at his hair, and he chuckles now, lapping his tongue along your inner thigh, watching as your pussy drools out.

“What do you think I’m doing? Gonna lick every thought of anyone from your pretty fucking head,” he whispers, kissing your inner thigh again, you gasp. “Haven’t you been eaten out?”

“I have, just… you… you do that?” He chuckles, shaking his head as he looks under those pink lashes at you.

“Of course I do, ya didn’t give me a chance last time, jumping my dick like a slutty little brat.”

“You- oh!” You’re gonna talk shit, but when Ryomen Sukuna licks up your slit then, tongue ring flicking on your clit, you lose any words. “Mnh!”

You almost say you love him from one fucking lick, one wicked stripe of his wet, hot tongue between your lips.

“Nothing smart to say, brat?” He whispers, breath hot against your cunt while he holds your folds open with his thick fingers. You can’t respond, you arch your hips now, resting your shoulders back against the door, silently pleading for more. Sukuna moans softly, flicking his tongue again. “How about you be nice, say please?”

“Please,” you let out breathlessly, and Sukuna buries his fucking face against your cunt then, drowning himself in your sweet taste, your heat, while he listens to your moans mixing with the blaring music of the party, just an echo, his heart racing in his ears as your cunt gushes down him, messy as fuck. “S’kuna mnh!”

You can’t even say his name he muses, palming his erection over his pants, he can hardly stand it, he’d tasted you before off his fingers but this was more intense, the sweetness pouring as he tries to catch it. He looks up at you, your head falling forward, feels you trembling, while you crumple that skirt in one hand, the other balancing on his shoulder.

Sukuna’s tongue slots itself into your eager hole, already pulsing around the wet muscle, curling up wickedly and hitting your spot with that fucking barbell, you scream out hoarsely, head slamming the door as he does. He has you cumming with two more flicks, as his nose bumps right against your engorged, twitchy little clit, your whines and grinding hips urging him on, drawing that orgasm out.

You’re shivering, hips bucking up to fuck his face, wanton and fucking insane how you work them, greedy, pulling at his hair now. “Sukuna!”

“Mmh, you’re so easy f’me, huh?” you want to talk shit, but his tongue flicks and swirls your clit, as your thigh brushes the soft silk of his kimono, and you can’t take it, how fucking good it feels. “Say it, and I’ll let you cum again.”

“Easy… ah!” He’s moaning now, sucking your clit into his hot mouth, vibrating it with his own moans, your skirt falls so he shoves it back up, but your hands have entangled in his pink hair, while he’s devouring all the juices pouring from your slutty little hole, all over his handsome face. “S’Kuna…”

“Can’t even say my name, huh?” He murmurs, pulling back, his face coated in you, the sight should be embarrassing, but instead it’s so sexy you whine out, he smirks - having you whimper this time, when he stands, you wobble. “Can’t stand up brat?”

“Fuck… shut up…” he’s taunting you, but he’s right, he has to wrap an arm around your hips, bending low and running his two fingers up your sensitive slit, watching as your eyes roll back, feeling you tremble in his hold. “Kuna…”

“Not my name, tch.” You’re delirious when he’s pumped his fingers deep, curling in your quivering walls. “Take them off. Now, get on the bed.”

You are not one to take orders, you scowl at first, but when he’s slid two of his fingers in your mouth, and has a thigh between yours, you’re grinding on it, desperate, soaking his pants now. He’s kissing you again, before pulling back, turning you around and unzipping the back of your skirt.

“Do I have to undress you, brat? Where’s all the shit talking? Keeping up with your freak, hmm?” He’s taunting you even as his hands shake, when your skirt slips down, and your head falls back, whining out. “You don’t talk shit when you cum, is that when your pretty mouth shuts?”

“Shut my mouth, Sukuna.” He groans, kissing down across the side of your neck, tugging your top down, then up over your head, turning you as the skirt pools around your heels. He is stunned when he sees your body, swallowing nervously, tracing the swell of your breasts, the nip of your waist, the jut of your hips in wonder.

You’re nervous, him seeing you fully, but his eyes are bright rubies when they hungrily make their way up your face. Your hands slip to his body, slipping off the black kimono, revealing his body fully, so sculpted it’s ridiculous, you lean forward, kissing along a tattoo on his chest, over a thick pectoral muscle, and he huffs, hand entangling in your hair.

“You’re fucking…” he doesn’t know how to say it, fuck.

He’s never said that.

“Hot?” You tease, kissing lower, unbuckling his belt as you do. “You’re gorgeous, fuck…”

“Me? Tch.” You nod, and he sighs now, swallowing a bit, tilting your chin up and making you pull away from kissing across his tattoos. “You’re beautiful, brat, okay?”

“I am?” You blink a bit, and he sighs, nodding, jaw tensing so hard there’s a vein popping out. “Oh Sukuna… thank you…”

“Shut up.” You blink in confusion at him, but he’s already picked you up, your arms wrap his strong neck, as his huge hands hold you. “Don’t fucking dance with anyone.”

“Like… tonight?” You ask curiously, he snorts, shaking his head and carrying you over to a huge bed, one he used to sleep in, sitting you on it and brushing your hair back.

“Like not at all.” Your blush decorates your cheeks, as you bite your lower lip.

“Do you like me, Sukuna?” Your question makes him laugh, a huge tattooed hand cupping the side of your face and leaning down.

“Do I like you?” You nod then, suddenly shy for running it like you do, and he sighs, brushing your hair back as you tug at his pants, going to stroke his cock and eliciting that soft whimper of his that wrecks you. “Yes, I like you… alot. Okay!?”

“You sound so mad about it.” You tease, stroking him slowly, over those veins that wrap his pretty, heavy cock, and he sighs, snatching your hand now.

“And you, brat, huh? Do you like me, baby?” He whispers, flipping you around, your ass arching up and out, two fingers slipping back inside your hole, stretching you out, making your head fall back as you arch for more.

“Y-yes, I do, ngh!” He pauses then, cock slapping your ass so fucking heavy, precum drizzling across your ass cheeks, dancing messy on your skin.

“Shit, you like me?” His surprised words hit even your horny ass, high ass brain, you look back, getting up on your knees, reaching a hand back around to him now, he leans forward, sighing, cupping you under your chin.

“Yes, I really do. I thought… maybe you didn’t?” He shakes his head, he’s not sure the word ‘like’ covers what he feels, but for now it’ll suffice. “As more than a friend?”

“I don’t do that to friends,” he murmurs, kissing you again, fingers running along your slit. “Don’t bury my face in my friends.”

“Then… more than that?” He nods a bit, and you melt, pressing back against him as he wraps his strong arms around you. “I’d like that too - I’d also like your cock in me.”

“Cock hungry brat, can’t have a fucking moment, huh?” You giggle, and the sound wrecks him, he’s kissing you again, tip sliding on your folds. “Wanna fuck you raw, wanna cum inside you.”

“So do it…” Your answer to his insane statements is to get in the perfect arch for him, he moans as you do.

“Fuck, you sure?” You nod, hands clinging to the blankets while you soak his tip, gushing down in a soppy, squelching mess to the bed. “I’m not going easy on you this time, slutty cunt can take it huh?”

“I won’t go easy either, gonna have you whimper - ah!” Sukuna’s slid inside your cunt in a deep stroke, and without the condom you feel every fucking bit of his cock, from that fat, musroomed tip, to every vein in your slick, gummy walls. “Sukuna!”

“Fuck, loosen up,” he huffs, smacking on your ass cheek, you gasp as he groans, trying not to cum while you grip him so tight. “Now, brat.”

“I c-can’t, shit… ah!” You’re shaking as he slips out, then back inside, feeling so fucking delicious in your cunt you moan, glasses falling right off your face as he fucks into you harder now, slamming and bullying his thick cock deep inside you, so full you feel like you’re splitting apart, still wearing those heels and thigh highs, the sight of them right under your ass taking him the fuck out.

“Fuck, feel you, gonna remember my shape, aren’t you?” He huffs, as he fucks inside you, leaning over you now, hand on the mattress, gripping the blankets right next to you, veins raising from the back of his tattooed hands while his leaky tip drools on your cervix. You gasp out, whining when he stuffs you, his other hand cupping under your chin. “Asked you a question.”

“Conceited,” you huff, only earning him slamming inside your cunt, you’re blinded when he does, gasping out, ass arching for more of his brutal thrusts while he gives you the most wicked backshots, the sounds of skin slapping echoing and filling your ears, the party long since faded. “F-fuck, ah!”

“Like me, huh? She doesn’t like me, she loves me, doesn’t she?” He’s whispering in your ear, you weakly nod, you’re not typically submissive, but for him you want to be, when he rolls his hips up just so and hits your spot, you scream out at it. “Say it.”

“No… mnh!” He flips you then, right before you’re about to cum, making you whine, picking your thigh up and pulling it high, your heel and stockings ripped off, one by one, until your legs are bare, and the heel of your foot is against his chest. Like this, him hovering over you, cock prodding your soppy entrance, it’s way too intimate.

Like wasn’t a good enough term.

Fucked up over him was better.

“Wanna watch me fuck your guts up, huh? Bet you haven’t had that have you, cock ruin your fucking insides?” He’s possessive, feral as he looks down, you’ve put your glasses on all askew, he tenderly fixes them before tilting your chin down to watch your cunt make his cock disappear. “God…”

He can’t take it, how sexy it is to see the bulge slowly form as he shoves his thick ten inches as much as he can, between your puffy lips, while you watch him, lips parted, glasses slipping back down your nose again, covered with a sheen of sweat. “Oh…”

You’re watching it, the bulge, ridiculous as he fucks into you so slow, leaning over you and making your leg press up higher, a hand on the back of your thigh, he eyes your face again, as he slips in deeper, till he’s stuffed you far too full. You’re struggling to take him at this angle, deeper, slower strokes, fucking you up with every single one, your eyes going crossed then.

“Wanna see your pretty eyes,” he murmurs, taking them off, setting them aside and leaning low over you now. “Can you see me, blind little brat?”

“Y-yes. Yes.” He kisses you again, while he’s bending you in half, fucking you so deep you feel him everywhere, your stomach, fuck your throat, all of it, he’s ruining your cunt until she will just know his shape and you can’t say you mind, not when he slams hard, and you feel your body tense. “Kuna, please…”

“What, brat, need to cum?” He whispers, saliva breaking apart in a thin, gossamer string as the filthy sounds of his cock wrecking your squelching cunt fill the room. “Say please, huh?”

“Please, mnh! Kuna, please,” Sukuna reaches down, like he already knows your body after two fuck sessions, finding your twitchy little clit and leaning up, rubbing little circles and angling his hips just so, your orgasm hits you so hard, already sensitive from his tongue, his mouth, those fingers.

“That’s it, cum all on me, make a fuckin’ mess,” he murmurs, but in his head he’s already mad with one thought.

His.

You weren’t dancing or talking or smoking with another dude, ever the fuck again - he knows enough people, he can make sure of it too, watching your eyes roll back, that mouth in a slutty O as your cunt starts milking him then. He sucks in a breath, now laying his heavy weight on you, mean strokes hitting so hard and deep the smacks keep echoing as you’re so fucking full.

“Slutty hole wants all my cum, huh? Should I fill you the fuck up, have you drip me the rest of this fucking party?” Sukuna’s eyes are so dark with his blown out pupils, all you can see is black with red rings around them, as he grips your hip bruising. “Can’t even talk? That pathetic huh? Thought I had to match your freak, brat.”

“Mnh…” You wanna talk back but he’s fucking you from one orgasm into another, and all you can manage is a - ‘cum in me’ - which pushes him over the edge.

“Yeah, can you take all this cum, baby?”

Baby.

It’s echoing - Sukuna, your plug, the most popular dude there is, is sweet talking you and rolling his hips. One moment it’s ‘fucking slutty cunt, feel her’ the next it’s - ‘so pretty, look at you’. The mix of filthy, nasty words and sweet whispers, and brutal strokes that ruin your cunt and tender caresses is too much, he’s too much, you can’t formulate words, a girl who's never at a loss for them.

“I c-can take it,” you whisper finally, eyes locking, and then he moans, lifting your thighs up high, shoving them until they’re flushed with your breasts, smushed as his weight presses on your thighs, and he starts fucking his veiny, slick cock harder and harder.

“Yeah? Beg for it, huh?” you bite your lip, glaring. “Beg for me to fill this perfect little cunt, be the only one to.”

“P-possessive… psycho…” he’s chuckling, like he’s really fucking lost it, slamming in one more time. “Beg m-me, huh?”

“Fuck,” he’s done with your ass, you’re literally so annoying, but he also is fucking loving it, your attitude even as he has you bent and folded in half. “Tiny little cunt, bet she can’t.”

“I can, f-fuck… just… cum in me- stop talking and - ah!” He’s done when you demand it like that, when your nails press into his biceps, his head falls back as he feels his release, so much cum, despite jerking it all week it’s been building up, waiting for you. “Sukuna!”

“God, feel her, milking every bit, greedy, slutty,” he murmurs, kissing you over and over, barbell massaging your tongue, his huge hands slipping your thighs down as his ropes of white cum paint your walls. “Fuck…”

“Mnh…” You’re weak, head falling to the side for his kisses, thighs shaking violently when he moves again. “Sukuna!”

“Mmm, never wanna fucking leave your pussy, god.” He keeps kissing and slowly pumping, your nails tear into his back, and he loves it, groaning, hoping you leave your marks as he sucks on the base of your neck, lapping up sweat off your skin.

“You cum so much, holy…” He pulls back, grinning as he leans up, kissing your lips sweetly for just a moment, then glaring.

“You’re my girlfriend now, got it?”

You giggle, breathless, brushing a lock of his pink hair back. “Am I now? Not even gonna ask me?”

His brows lower, ruby eyes narrowing. “Nope. I do have a question…”

“Hmm?”

“Wanna smoke?” You grin, nodding, and Sukuna dips, for a moment you panic, but he’s soon back with water bottles and his bag of weed, while you’re in the bathroom cleaning up. He comes behind you in the mirror, wrapping an arm under your breasts and groaning. “God, look at you.”

You turn, leaning up as he leans down, kissing you again, soon the two of you are lounging in the bed, half dressed and laughing, as he inhales the blunt and turns to his side, studying you seriously for a moment, everything feels so comfy and perfect with him, heady. “What is it?”

“Just… you’re really pretty covered in me.” He murmurs, you flush, eyeing the marks on your thighs, your breasts, taking the blunt from his fingers and inhaling it into your mouth, gesturing for him.

He leans forward, and you blow the smoke into his mouth, he lets it fill his lungs and moans, big hands gripping the narrow of your waist, thumbs brushing under the swells of your breasts. He sucks in the smoke now, exhaling, when he takes the blunt again, sighing, brushing your hair back with his free hand.

“You’re still not getting free weed, you know.”

You scoff, glaring as he grins wide. “You are a jerk!”

“Just saying, you gotta pay. Maybe a small discount.”

“A discount!? You just came inside me.” He laughs now, husky with his smirk, laying back on his arm, bent under his head, inhaling again.

“Hmm, yeah I did, didn’t I? Okay, a good discount.”

“Psh!” You shove at his big body, when he pins you down, sighing and slipping up your skirt.

“Tch, fucked her up, huh?” He leans down, pressing bites, sharp along your thighs, you gasp out, feeling dizzy and weak, cunt throbbing from him still. “She’s wasting all that cum.”

“Wasting, what- oh fuck.” He’s got two fingers shoving his sticky cum back in your abused hole, inhaling the blunt and blowing the smoke right on your clit then, you’re arching your back, hips bucking up. “What the… mnh…”

He sucks his fingers, handing you the blunt, you’re blushing as he makes his way back between your thighs. You inhale the blunt now, letting it hit deep as Ryomen Sukuna’s tongue ring collects the milky white cum oozing from your cunt now.

“Hmm,” you earn a glare when you decide to put your glasses on his face. “You look hot, imagine - Nerd Kuna. Ow!”

Sukuna bites your clit, the glasses looking far too sexy on him, and watches you giggle, making his heart race. “Only nerd here is you.”

“Mnh, Sukuna…” He’s lapping at you more and more, the clicking and squishing of your cunt as he cleans up the mess he’s made, all while your glasses on his face are fogging up.

He puts out your blunt, back inside you, spitting his cum and yours in your mouth, tongues swapping it so messy together, big hand wrapped around your throat, bringing you with him to cum over and over, and you realize that night, in your fifth or so round - You think you might just be in love with your plug.

I had wayyy too much fun, hope you all enjoyed ittt hehe

@teddiiursula @helpmeimbored @sukubusss @lizatonix @kitchen-cryptid @yenayaps @all-with-angel @take-metothe-moon @quackingcrow420 @notsaelty @urlocalsucc @deadasssmut @fauxxfacade @blitziwitch @lvc-lv @niamhssecretlibrary @hiccupberries @yamadramallamaqueen @din-is-a-real-mando @sagegotthesauce @sadrna @saitamaswifey @beabamboo @akirawhore @coralbae @midnightry @ehlaaa @yuaisen @sapphireillusions @rosieandthethorns @sofi4dsam @choerryp1e @hunbun-posts @melotter @hellish4ever @smoooootie @anacod @jkslvsnella @bunbun444 @toffeebrat @ehcilhc @dizzylmwahh @emochosoluvr @tyyqqaaa @mimiluvzu2 @gojoscumslut @bakery-angel @blackbeauties102

[rafesangelita]

♡ telling rafe you didn’t use his credit card

warnings: use of the name ‘daddy’ (pls just scroll if that’s not your thing, you’ve been warned!!), rafe gets mad at you, fluff

rafe was already waiting for you outside the house when you and your best friends pulled into the driveway of tanneyhill, a small smile gracing his lips as he watched you step off the pink buggy with your hands full of shopping bags. “bye, love you!” you blew a kiss to the car before waving, turning around only to be met with rafe towering over you. “hey, daddy!” you pecked his cheek, allowing him to take the bags from you as you two made your way inside. rafe kicked the door shut once you plopped down on the couch, your heels still adorning your feet as you pouted up at him to join you on the sofa.

“how was your outing, bunny?” he pulled you onto his lap, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he stroked your thigh, his eyes trailing down that pretty face of yours before settling on your glossy lips. “it was really good,” you smiled, resting a hand against his chest, “..but i kinda ran into a little hiccup, please don’t get mad.” rafe shifted his weight on the cushion beneath him, his eyebrows pinching slightly at your words. “what happened?” he swallowed thickly, watching the way a conflicted expression passed over your features.

“so.. i think i accidentally removed your card from my apple pay a while back and i’ve been meaning to add it again but i keep forgetting, and right before i left i decided to change purses but i didn’t realize i had left your physical card in my other bag, so when it came time to pay for my stuff i didn’t—” rafe cut off your rambling with a hand in the air, your explanation coming to an unexpected stop. “don’t tell me you paid with your own money.” he glared at you, his nostrils flaring as you looked away guiltily. “fuck, y/n.” he screwed his eyes shut, his head resting on the back of the couch as he groaned.

“why would you do that?” you shrugged, nervously fiddling with the charms on your nails as you tried to reassure him. “it’s okay! money just sits in my account anyways, it’s not a big deal!” you tried to ease his worries but he wasn’t having it. “it is though, bunny. you’re my girl, and my girl is taken care of, always. you should’ve called me and i could’ve arranged something.” he scolded you, his eyes wide as you mumbled a little ‘i’m sorry!’ — he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as you shrunk in on yourself, hating the way his disapproval felt.

“how much did all of that cost?” he asked, both of you turning to inspect the white bags with various shades of pink tissue paper sticking up from the top. “uhm.. like eight hundred??” rafe cursed under his breath, his skin growing hot at the revelation. he hated it when you spent even a single dollar on your card, so hearing that you spent a lot more than that only made him more pissed off with himself. “alright, listen. i’m gonna put three times that amount back into your account—” you quickly protested, your mouth falling open in disbelief. “rafe! no, that’s ridiculous—”

he shushed you, already taking his phone out of his pocket and transferring the money. “no, it’s not ridiculous, ‘next time you run into a little ‘hiccup’ you call me and i’ll go over to wherever you’re at and pay for your shit myself if i have to. do you understand me?” you stared up at him, biting on your bottom lip before nodding, surrendering to him without a word. “i really am sorry, ray..” you whispered, allowing him to reach over you and grab your bags. “don’t be, alright? i should’ve made sure you were good before you left, okay? it’s not on you.” he pressed a kiss to your temple.

“why don’t we go upstairs and you give me one of your little hauls?” you lit up at the suggestion, nodding your head frantically as you practically shot up from his lap. “i think some of the outfits in here will make it up to you..” you smiled, flashing him a wink before the click of your heels against the stairs echoed throughout the foyer. rafe chuckled to himself, his cock stirring in his pants once he caught a glimpse of the lace material in one of the bags. it was going to be a long, long, long, night.

thank you nonnie for celebrating with me ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

[kitkatscabinet]

SNUGGLE BUG

Summary: The boys try to get out of bed, their partner has other plans.

Pairing(s): Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, x reader

A/N: unedited

DICK GRAYSON

Dick's always been a physically affectionate person, far more so than the rest of his family. It's why he'd been so ecstatic when he'd found you, a partner that was just as, if not more affectionate than him.

On more than one occasion his siblings had been given front-row seats to the snuggle show when they broke into his apartment, served them right really.

What Dick hadn't accounted for, was just how difficult it was to peel himself from your arms in the morning. Torture would hurt less he's sure.

"Ten more minutes," you whined childishly, burrowing your face into Dick's bare shoulder, tightening your arms around his torso.

"We've already said that three times." Your partner laughed, wriggling out of your hold but with far less strength than you knew he was capable of.

Both of you were fully aware just how quickly he could extracate himself from your arms should the neccessity rise. Technically speaking he did have to go to work, but surely it couldn't hurt to be a little late?

Though a quick glance at the hello kitty alarm clock on the bedside table confirmed he was already late.

"Dickie, can't you just call in? I wanna cuddle."

Fuck. How could he say no to that?

It wasn't like he really needed the money anyway.

His boss's ire is worth it to feel the way you smile into the skin of his neck, your warm breaths and little laughs as you lay tangled together.

So worth it.

JASON TODD

"You planning on letting me go anytime soon?" Jason grunted, though you know him well enough to hear the smile he's attempting to hide.

"Never," you mumble into the skin between his broad shoulder blades, the mattress slouching beneath the combined weight of you and your boyfriend.

Jason, undeterred by your attempts to drag him down, stands with a grunt. A cracking noise you know to be his knees rings out, and though you feel a little bad, you're unwilling to back down in your quest to get him back into bed.

Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend is built like a brick shithouse and is just as stubborn as you. Slowly, he manouevers around your small apartment all the while you hang off his back like a drunken Koala.

"Babyyyy," you whine petulantly into his ear, arms tightening around his neck in an attempt to only slightly choke him into submission.

Sighing, Jason starts to wander back into the bedroom. Just when you think you've won, he spins around, falling backwards onto the mattress and crushing you beneath his bulk.

In the minutes you spend winded, recovering, from being squished like an ant, Jason makes his escape. When you finally manage to come back to yourself you notice something incredibly distressing.

"Clothes! Why are you wearing clothes!" you wailed, sliding off the mattress and onto the floor in a pathetic slump.

Despite himself, Jason smiles at the sight, bundling you up in his arms before hopping back into bed with you. "Ok, you big dramatic baby."

Hey may have sounded put out, but the both of you knew he wanted to cuddle just as much. Besides, nothing was as important to him as you.

TIM DRAKE

He’d tried to be quiet. Truly, with years of training in the art of stealth Tim had intended to simply slip out of the bed and leave you to the sleep you needed.

He’d almost made it, both feet on the floor and the mattress no longer bearing most of his weight when all of a sudden a hand darted out, grasping his wrist.

Tim froze, slowly turning to look down at you with wide, guilty eyes. You're glaring up at him, sleep-addled face far more adorable than threatening, not that he'd ever tell you that, for fear of getting his ass beat.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" your voice is hoarse and gravelly from sleep but the threat is evident.

Mouth suddenly dry, Tim awkwardly chuckles, "Oh, babe, you're awake."

"Thanks to you," you grumbled sleepily, guilt and fear in equal measurements settling heavily in his chest.

"M'sorry, tried not to wake you but I gotta get to work on this case."

"No." You grunted, wrapping your arms around Tim's waist with freakish speed, nuzzling your face into his side.

He can't help the way his heart skips several beats at your casual affection. Tim's always been starved for touch, for the soft loving touch that you've always provided as if its as natural as breathing.

He should be used to it but despite the years worth of love and affection you've poured into Tim in the time you've spent together he still hasn't acclimated.

Tim knows, that you know, just how weak to your touch he is. It still doesn't prevent his resolve from crumbling when you refuse to let him budge, tugging him back down into your warm embrace.

"Good boy," you murmur against the skin of his neck, wrapping around his back like an octopus and trapping him against the expanse of your chest.

His skin runs hot at your words, mind numb to anything that's not your touch as he's eventually lulled back to sleep to the soothing sounds of your breathing.

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ playing dangerous ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ hwang in-ho x player!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header!

˚ ༘♡ player 177. your assigned number. the three digits stitched in stark white thread on the coarse forest-green tracksuit now clinging to your body. you didn’t remember putting it on. you didn’t remember anything between falling asleep in your cramped apartment and waking up in this sterile, alabaster void. the tracksuit was loose in some places, tight in others, the fabric rough against your skin, a similar sensation for the discomfort that had settled deep into your bones.

˚ ༘♡ the air here was heavy, oppressive. tension hung over the room like a storm cloud, pressing down on everyone in its path. you sat on the thin mattress of your cot, the iron bars of the bedframe biting into your back as you leaned against them. your throat was dry, your lips chapped, and a faint crust of dried blood clung to the edge of your mouth, an unpleasant reminder of the chaos you’d barely survived. in your lap rested a cold metal bento box, unopened. the thought of eating its contents of rubbery eggs and starchy rice, made your stomach churn. it wasn’t hunger gnawing at you but dread. eating felt like acknowledging the possibility of another day here, in this place where death lingered so close you could almost taste it.

˚ ༘♡ death. it wasn’t something you’d ever had to think about seriously before. you were young, healthy enough, aside from the occasional winter flu. life’s struggles had been mundane, bills, work, nothing quite noteworthy. you’d thought financial trouble was the worst of your problems. how naive that seemed now. the sharp crack of gunfire still rang in your ears, and the memory of bodies crumpling mid-run played in an endless loop in your mind. every scream, every desperate gasp for air as life left someone’s body, was etched into your mind.

˚ ༘♡ this wasn’t life. it was survival, twisted into something grotesque. children’s games weaponized against desperate people for the amusement of others, with the promise of money as bait. one hundred million won for every life taken. your own life, reduced to a figure on a balance sheet. you’d survived the first game, the horrifying version of red light, green light, but at what cost? surely, after witnessing such carnage, the others would have voted to leave. you’d been certain of it. but the desperation was stronger. greed was stronger. most players had chosen to stay, ignoring the horrors of what lay ahead.

˚ ༘♡ “the next game,” player 456 had said, “will be cutting shapes out of dalgona candy. pick the triangle. it’s the easiest.” his voice had carried a strange conviction, and he claimed to know these games intimately, even to have won before. but how could you trust him? maybe he was lying, or maybe it didn’t matter. maybe none of you were meant to leave this place alive.

˚ ༘♡ “hey, 177!” the crude voice shattered your thoughts, dragging you back to the present.

˚ ༘♡ you glanced up to see player 230, “thanos,” as he called himself, sauntering toward you. his garish purple hair stood out like a bruise against the sterile backdrop, and his brightly colored nails flashed as he gestured. he’d painted them to match the infinity stones, leaning fully into the nickname he’d given himself. behind him, player 124 followed, all sharp angles and slicked-back hair, his grin as eager and sly as ever.

˚ ༘♡ “why didn’t you vote for one more game, huh?” thanos sneered, his voice laced with mockery. “you had no problem playing foul last round.”

˚ ༘♡ you frowned, rising slowly to your feet. “you and i both know it was an accident,” you replied steadily. “everyone was running for their lives. i didn’t block your way on purpose. we both finished in time, didn’t we? no harm done.”

˚ ༘♡ he rolled his eyes, his expression exaggerated and spontaneous. “yeah, sure, whatever. typical cold-hearted bitch behavior.”

˚ ༘♡ player 124 cackled at the insult, his laughter harsh and grating. “that’s right. cold, stuck-up bitch,” he echoed, his voice dripping with scorn.

˚ ༘♡ their taunts were designed to provoke you, but you refused to give them the satisfaction. your hands curled into fists, but you forced yourself to relax them, forced yourself to breathe. these two thrived on conflict, and the best thing you could do was walk away. you turned on your heel, ignoring their shouts, and started to move toward the far corner of the room.

˚ ༘♡ “hey! i’m talking to you!” thanos barked, stumbling after you with heavy, uncoordinated steps. he didn’t get far. player 001 stepped into his path, his expression stoic and unyielding.

˚ ༘♡ “don’t you boys have any respect?” player 001 asked, his voice quiet but firm. there was something about him, an emanation of authority that made everyone within earshot pause.

˚ ༘♡ thanos bristled, his arrogance faltering for just a moment. “mind your own damn business, old man,” he snapped, jerking forward.

˚ ༘♡ player 001 didn’t flinch. when thanos lunged at him, the older man moved with startling precision, sidestepping the punch with ease. he grabbed thanos by the wrist mid-swing and twisted sharply, forcing a guttural yelp from the younger man as his knees buckled. with a swift motion, player 001 yanked him forward and drove an elbow into his chest, the dull, cracking impact echoing in the room. thanos collapsed onto the floor, clutching his ribs and coughing violently.

˚ ༘♡ player 124 scrambled forward, his face twisted in fury. “bastard!” he yelled, charging with reckless abandon. player 001 turned just in time, catching the younger man by the collar and using his momentum against him. a sharp twist and a well-placed shove sent player 124 sprawling into the edge of a nearby cot, the metal frame rattling as he hit it with a thud.

˚ ༘♡ the fight wasn’t over. thanos struggled to his feet, his face contorted in pain and rage. “you’re gonna regret that, old man,” he spat, lunging again. this time, player 001’s response was more deliberate. he ducked under thanos’s wild swing, stepped inside his reach, and delivered a devastating blow to his lower torso. the younger man doubled over, gasping, before player 001 swept his legs out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor once more.

˚ ༘♡ not finished, player 124 staggered up again, charging at player 001 with fists raised. the older man sidestepped and grabbed player 124 by the arm, wrenching it behind his back and forcing him to the ground with a hoarse cry of pain. he planted a knee firmly against player 124’s spine, holding him there as the younger man squirmed and cursed.

˚ ༘♡ thanos, blood now trickling from his nose, crawled toward his friend, wheezing apologies and swearing obscenities all at once. player 001 released player 124 with a shove, stepping back as the two younger men lay crumpled together on the floor.

˚ ༘♡ the room was silent, every player watching in stunned awe. then, slowly, the silence broke into cheers and clapping. player 001 straightened his posture, his expression as calm and inscrutable as ever. without a word, he turned and walked back to where player 456 and a few others were gathered, leaving the two troublemakers to nurse their wounds.

˚ ༘♡ you hesitated, then followed him. when you reached his side, you spoke softly. “i wanted to thank you, sir. if you hadn’t stepped in, they wouldn’t have stopped harassing me and disturbing the peace. you’ve done us all a favor.”

˚ ༘♡ player 001 turned to look at you, his dark eyes meeting yours briefly before he nodded. he said nothing, his expression unreadable. there was something deeply weary about him, a weight that seemed to press down on his shoulders. his posture was rigid, his face lined with exhaustion, and though he was relatively handsome, it was the kind of masculine appeal eroded by time and hardship.

˚ ༘♡ you wondered what had brought him here, what had led him to the point where he’d chosen, or been pushed into, to enter this place. you didn’t ask. prying into his past would be an impolite gesture and an indignity for what he had done for you.

a/n: my first squid game fanfiction! i definitely want to write more for hwang in-ho in the future so let me know if you have any requests! 🤍

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you show your husband some affection, thinking you two were alone - only to be interrupted by your son.

tags. dad!toji fushiguro x wife!female reader. fluff, suggestive. mentions of toji developing / having a dad bod. & reader having a mom bod. reader gets called ‘princess, mama (by gumi)’. baby gumi waking up bcs of a nightmare. excuse me - not beta read bcs i was half asleep when writing this rt_t

“tooooji,” you smile as you enter the kitchen. you’ve put megumi to bed - finally - and have the chance to spend some one-on-one time with your dear husband. both of you deserve the rest after a hard day of work.

toji has been putting the dishes back in their designated spots whilst you were away. the dark-haired man turns his head to the side once he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist. a small grin tugs at his lips, “missed me, princess?”

you roll your eyes. even if years have passed since your marriage, toji has not stopped using that specific nickname for you. he loves calling you ‘princess’, because that’s what you’ll always be to him. in his eyes, at least.

“mhm,” you decide to indulge him. you bury your face into his broad back, feeling the muscles he’s worked so hard on obtaining. after megumi was born, toji did let himself go for a bit, but that is a good sign.

it means he’s content with his life - this peaceful life that he’s settled down for with no regrets. no more being reckless, no more battling for money; he’s now got a family to come back home to after all.

“is the little brat asleep?” toji asks while putting the last dish away. he’s visibly enjoying your warm hands that have slid under his shirt. your skin is so soft to the touch compared to his.

you chuckle and nod to his question. “gumi’s sleeping like a baby,” you rub your husband’s stomach gently, feeling the little bumps of his fading abs. you’re loving his new body - just as much as toji loves yours.

toji turns around to face you, desperately needing to return the favor. he can’t get enough of being with you. his rough hands grab your waist and bring you closer against his body, until your chests are nearly touching. he lowers his head to your neck, “that means i can show my wife how much i love her, yeah?”

you shiver at how toji’s voice turns from soft and gentle to sexual and husky. big hands find their place on your tummy, massaging the loose skin with its stretch marks. you can hear your husband’s breath hitch. “fuck,” toji swallows his spit, his fingers moving to grasp your hips.

toji loves how your hips got wider after you’ve given birth to your child. every change in your body, whether big or small, is completely welcomed by him. your body has blessed toji with a son he loves and he’ll forever be grateful for that fact. the least he can do is take his time to appreciate you.

“so beautiful,” toji sighs as he leaves soft pecks on your neck and throat. his fingers are working their way down to your thighs and ass—not leaving a single patch of skin untouched. his lips eventually find yours and you melt into his embrace.

it’s getting heated and the tension is palpable. toji’s about to lift you into his arms when you catch a glimpse of a short figure in the doorway. your eyes widen and you immediately detach your lips from your husband’s.

toji quickly catches on and sighs. he cocks his head to the left, the sight of his toddler standing at the doorway coming into view. “damn kid,” he whispers, nearly pouting because of the interruption. you playfully slap his bicep—a warning to fix his potty mouth in front of megumi.

“h-hey, gumi,” you say with an awkward giggle, walking towards the child. you fix your shirt in the meantime, straightening the material. you crouch down to megumi’s level and pat his head tenderly, “what happened? why are you out of bed?”

megumi stares up at you with teary eyes. he’s clenching onto his dog plushie, hugging the stuffed animal to his little body. you can easily guess that he’s scared—probably because of a nightmare. he’s been getting those more frequently.

though, instead of explaining himself, megumi searches for answers to something else. he points at his dad who’s leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. the toddler then looks back at you like he’s made some big discovery;

“mama papa kissing!”

you nearly choke on your spit. megumi’s a clever little boy and it shows through his advanced vocabulary. you’re surprised that he’s learnt what that meant already. you try to deny what your child said, “no, uhm, mama and papa were just hugging!”

toji snorts at your half assed excuse. he lazily walks over to you two, hands in his pockets. he bends forwards and looks megumi in the eyes with a huge smirk on his face. “yeah, we were. ‘n you totally ruined it,” he utters without any shame and menacingly sticks his tongue out at the little boy.

you hiss and lightly shove toji—he cannot take anything seriously. you’re trying your best to distract megumi’s attention from what he’s seen his parents do, to what his reason is for waking up.

“did you have a nightmare again?” you coo and pick your son up. he instantly snuggles up to you and presses his face against your chest in search of comfort. you smile and can conclude that your assumptions are right.

you pet megumi’s head whilst softly humming one of his favorite lullabies. toji watches your interaction with his son and his mood softens once more. he silently hugs you from behind—also wrapping an arm around megumi—turning it into a little family group hug.

“y’re all right, buddy,” toji mutters to megumi and the little boy sniffles in response, “mama ‘n papa ‘re right here.”

after a couple minutes, you carry megumi back to his room before putting him down in his bed. your husband stands next to you as you make sure your kid is tucked in properly.

megumi stares up at you with a sniff and you nearly melt at the adorable sight. you brush his bangs out of his eyes and kiss his forehead, wishing him a good night. the toddler nods and hugs his plushie to his chest again, still a bit shaken up from the nightmare. however, he’s doing a lot better after he got comforted by both his parents.

“sweet dreams, gumi,” you whisper and rub megumi’s cheeks with a fond smile on your lips. toji simply stares at you conversing with megumi—his face showing little to no emotion. though, from within, toji is absolutely in awe at your motherly personality. you’re the perfect mother.

megumi gets drowsy and tosses onto his side so he could be more comfortable. he struggles to open his eyes, but manages to look at toji. the little boy pouts and points another finger at his dad, this time drowsily warning him, “papa no kiss mama, ‘kay?”

that comment catches you off guard. you’re embarrassed by the fact that megumi still remembers what he’s seen in the kitchen. you try to clear your throat and explain yourself, but toji’s one step ahead of you. he silently mimics megumi’s words and rolls his eyes—

“yeah yeah, whatever. i won’t,” toji promises his son. the toddler clearly inherited your husband’s protectiveness. you chuckle at the playfulness between the two, enjoying the jokey banter the father-son duo have each time.

megumi huffs in victory and nods. he can sleep in peace now, knowing his dad won’t try anything funny with you. he closes his weary eyes and is asleep within just a few seconds.

you stretch your arms and sigh in content. you can’t help but chuckle once you notice how megumi’s fallen asleep with a tiny smile on his lips. you give the child one last forehead kiss before leaving the room in silence.

toji follows right behind you. now that his son is sound asleep, he doesn’t have to keep his promise. technically— he wasn’t planning to anyway.

“c’mere,” your husband mumbles and grabs your hand. he pulls you into a tight hug, hands instantly roaming your body which he admires so much. he plants his lips onto yours not a second later.

you smile into the kiss, finding it funny how toji couldn’t keep his (fake) promise for even one second. he would die if he actually couldn’t kiss you, and that isn’t even an exaggeration.

toji pulls back after a moment and smirks at you—those bedroom eyes of his very telling.

“so, where were we?”

[ghouljams]

Being the favorite sex worker of any of the 141 must go crazy

It's certainly interesting. Having one regular is good but five? And they pay well for discretion? Oh, it's fantastic, you're willing to put up with a lot for a good-looking man that pays well and fucks better.

Nikolai, of course, found you first. Not one for picking up random girls when they can be so touchy. You know his type well, the sort that wants exactly what they want and don't take kindly to deviation. You sit at his feet and play pet, sucking his cock and providing more warmth than he can find in the cockpit of a helicopter. You don't ask questions when he stinks of gunpowder and oil, or look twice at the tattoos that even an untrained eye could tell were prison made. You simply sit on his lap while he murmurs to you, all hard consonants softened by a tongue that's still wet with your slick, and mewl when he finally fills you with that fat cock.

Which is exactly how he brought you John. Another man who has no time to look for what he can easily pay for. A gentleman in certain aspects, a monster in others. You prefer when Nik brings him along, enjoying the soothing that the Russian gives you after John spanks you raw, but he's not awful alone. Violent delights, is how you would describe him. He likes a fight, enjoys pinning you down while you struggle and gasp, slapping your face when you gag on his cock, spitting in your mouth. Another type you know all too well, a man with perfect control and no outlet for the tumultuous waters that churn beneath the surface. At least he cleans you up afterwards, drops an extra few hundred on your nightstand for each bruise he leaves. You could cover your rent off one session with him, guilt is always a fantastic money maker.

With John's introduction you find three more soldiers slipping into your rotation. Kyle comes, sheepish, and you can't imagine he has any trouble finding partners to play with. Those soft brown eyes and the slight tilt of his brows when he asks what you do. You almost feel bad taking his money, worried you're sullying some poor awkward virgin. Until he's got you pinned to the bed, drooling over the way he fucks your ass and pulls your hair, spilling absolutely sinful words over your skin. Nobody talks to you like that, like a man who's had years to build up the words, and plenty of practice draping them over partners until he found exactly what would make them clench up. He's the first of them to kiss you, a quick peck on your cheek when he leaves. He sends you flowers afterwards, and you laugh to yourself reading the card that asks when he can see you again.

Johnny comes with toys. You appreciate the thought, but you have your own. You fuck him until he's a babbling mess, shaking and pulling the sheets out from the corners of the mattress with the way he tries to hide the flush on his cheeks. It's sort of cute, red to the tips of his ears, blush creeping down his chest to color his cock. It's always a conversation with this one, never the same scene twice. Costumes, role playing, ropes and toys. You're certainly never bored with Johnny. The only consistency is him fucking you in the shower afterwards, tired and content as he slaps his hips against your ass, his lips locked to the pulse in your neck and his breath sighing out of him. He tells you once that he's checking things off his list, "wanna try everthin'." You think he watches too much porn, but he pays you every time he goes to confessional, so you don't mind.

Simon... Well, the first time you meet him, he'd tagged along with Johnny, sat in the armchair opposite the bed and watched. He's delicate for being a big, mean looking fucker. You'd been a bit worried what he was interested in, you learn to be careful in your line of work, avoid masked strangers and men that are too big for anyone's own good. You'd almost turned him down. He still hasn't fucked you. He books the whole night with you and spends the entire time between your legs. Licking and sucking at whatever he can get his mouth on; a heavy arm draped over your stomach to keep you in place once you start squirming with overstimulation. He likes feeling useful, you think. Another type you know all too well, too much of the world on his shoulders to relax outside of your rooms. You pet his head and praise him just to watch him stiffen and melt between your thighs. He's a good boy, and the most reliable orgasm you can schedule. You would wonder what happened to make him keep himself so covered when he's around you, but you're just a whore.

And you know your role as well as you know theirs.