#you've lost your fucking mind lmao

[lonewolflink]

me, having slept ~5/6 hours a night for the last 10 days, working 16 hour days to try to finish this fuckass dissertation: brain no thinik good i can't do this i'm so tired also me: a statistical analysis of pierre-luc dubois x ovechkin's uptick in goals after finding a new stick he liked last season = ovechkin is going to score 50 goals this year and break the all time record (and PLD will hit 60/70 points as his centerman). in this essay i will also also me: ovechkin should sign a 1/2 year extension so he can hit 1000 goals, and piss off all the pittsburgh fans and xenophobic canadians haters who say he's an empty net/PP merchant

[cryptfile]

𖥨᩠ׄ݁ holy terrain!!!!!!, [ homelander x supe!reader ]

SUMMARY— based on a request aka when you arrive to vought’s tower covered in blood, you certainly don't expect to enjoy John’s comfort after feeling so numb.

WARNINGS — +18 minors dni, implied fem! reader, homelander is a warning himself, usual the boys content, mentions of murder, violence, reader matches homelander’s freak ngl, always wash your hands before fingering #PLEASE, blood kink at it's best, degradation (blink and you’ll miss it), dirty talk, porn without plot sort of?? lmao blame it on my hormones.

SIDE NOTES — hi there, this is a result of me going feral in this new season. English's not my first language, so please be kind, any mistake it's my own fault sorry in advance. Hate this mf but wont deny I wouldn't fuck him to calm him down. Please interact if you like this, reblogs, comments, likes, all means a lot to me!

The smell is under your nose.

At first it didn’t bother you to feel the warmth of it, you’re not disgusted by blood. But it’s everywhere. Fucking everywhere. Sticking in your face, staining your damn suit, pooling beneath your feet.

You can feel your own breathing, yet, you're numb to everything else. The screams of terror and the sudden silence of the killing are now something similar as a long-time-ago memory, a distant thought you cannot bring yourself to care about.

And when you came out of the elevator, you don't care about the other people looking at you either. The Vought personal that were always running in the floor, Ashley, or fucking Noir at the matter thinking you're Carrie or something, no one dares to talk to you even when you’re a mere sidekick, too afraid of your explosive personality to even demand to know what happened.

It's almost like you asked for it, to be left alone, to not deal with anyone but your own judgment.

So when you cross the hallway to your dormitory dreaming about a warm shower, you don't expect to see him inside, your relationship with Homelander being too sporadic to even catalog it as one. Yet he's there like it's his house, and you're too tired to even ask why he's there in the first place.

"There you are," he says, but you hear his voice like he's talking miles away from you instead of the couch where he really is. "Something was telling me you were having a rough day."

"Don't remember anything about inviting you to my room" he doesn't care about your tone as he walks closer to you, usually, when he speaks, he only seem to listen to himself. "Didn’t give you a key."

He's oblivious at your words, instead, he seems to be too lost in his own way of seeing things, just waiting for you to say something similar to what you’ve already said in his mind. To admit something like you missed him all day long, that you've been thinking about him as much as he's thinking about you, to fed his ego like only you can do after only a few times of sharing intimacy.

The air is thick, making it harder to breathe as he plants himself in front of you, blue eyes scanning your face as his fingers touched your hair, toying with the strands glued together with blood — Even if it’s gross, he don’t seemed moved by it, mainly, you think, because he’s been through the same too.

"Don't need a key to show up," he laughs like it's obvious, and you look at him like he's having a rougher time than you. "This is my building."

It's almost a reminder for you, that you're living under his roof and have a place on his team because he just wants to. Even when you always do the dirty job no one dares to do, if you save his ass more times you can count, he still remarks you’re living in his world.

“I know,” you fight the need to roll your eyes to the back of your head while responding. It’s something you remind yourself sometimes, how most of them are just plain stupid, always treating you like you were no better than fucking Deep.

The stink under your nose is annoying and your skin feels sticky at the touch so you’re almost begging for just ten minutes of privacy.

“I just missed you” he says in a low voice, almost ashamed of admitting something he would never even dare to say out loud, a sudden verge of vulnerability, strange raw honesty as he looks at you. “Didn’t you miss me too?”

You know the only way of really control him, how to make him do exactly what you want to do, so you let him. Let him act all needy and weird cause you want John wrapped around your finger, unable to think on his own. You want him to believe, whole-heartedly, that in the end he’s the one coming up with the great ideas when it's you every single time.

You don’t find it cruel, he’s the same with you and he deserves it, so when Homelander bites his middle finger to grab the fabric of his gloves and pull it off, you let him touch you, treat you like this lost-dove-in-trouble he loves to see — “Had an awful day. Just wanted to see you,” like that. The correct combination of words and he looks like he got fucking shot by a celestial force, mesmerized. “Always missing you, babe.”

He’s sold by the moment, that tone you use, that little nickname that gets him, the sound of your heartbeat slightly faster than before, not enough to catch you lying, but enough to show you’re indeed, happy to see him as well.

He's pleased, so the next is unexpected to say the least, and you hate every second of it when he carries you like you two are married or something similar, sitting in the sofa with you on his lap.

“What are you-”

He shushes you, and you cannot finish what you’re saying when he pulls you to his chest, the fabric of his suit against your cheek as he, weirdly enough, hugged you close, the sound of his heartbeat instead, loud against your ear as you can feel him breathing beneath you, an steady rhythm as the silence filled the room. It's weird sometimes, to think he's human as well before the compound V.

“Comforting you,” he says in a low voice. His bare hand now grabbing your tight enough to bury his fingers in the covered skin, squeezing it lightly as first, nothing you cannot control. And it's beyond doubt what he truly wants, the way his nose inhales the scent of your body like it's fuel, the blood mixing with your fragrance — "M' here now."

He likes it almost more than his own smell. Almost is the key, cause he cannot help but wish you'd stink like him after waking up next to him that very same day. The thought wakes something new in the alleged superhero, something that stings in his stomach, plaguing his mind with the thought of getting all that he wants, to mark you as his property as he has done before.

He cannot get enough. Of course he can't, he's used to have it all now, to never ask but take. That's why he bites your shoulder, why he didn't mind getting his hands dirty with you and your sticky suit, why he's not grossed out by anything, but instead, turned on by how much you needed him.

But in reality it's the other way around, cause Homelander's the one that pulls you closer, that kisses you like you're something heavenly, just like he is. He's not gentle, yet he knows you like it that way, that you're into that rough force he's used to and would kill any normal person in result.

"Who let you go on that mission on your own, huh?" He asks, concentrated in your suit, pulling it down slightly just to reveal the naked skin under the fabric, clean skin in contrast of all the red. "Seems like they all forgot we're supposed to work together."

You don't get why it feels so nice at first, why the hand on your hip moves through your body like you need some kind of reassurance after all you went through the day.

"I'm okay" you manage to say, the pure need to remind him you're good enough to make things on your own, some kind of memo that explains clearly that you want the same benefits he has. It's useless however, when he has you like that, making you tilt your head to the side, placing random bites in any sight of exposed flesh.

"You're hurt" he says, making you aware of your own body as he presses one hand against the injury on the side of your ribs. He's fucking sick for it, and it doesn't give you any time to react when his fingertips are pushing against the cut, your suit staining with your own blood as you mewl on top of him. "Clearly hurt."

He's drunk on depravity, lost on the face you make when the pain hits you all sudden, stealing the air from your lungs. He's suddenly hard beneath you and his hand's now rest on your hip making you move on top of him, hungry for anything he can get out of you, any little sound you make so focused on keeping quiet, trying so hard to not to fed on his bullshit.

The friction is unbearable, the fresh blood coming out of your now-opened wound, the slight force he uses to tear your suit apart like its nothing, giving him more space to work with as he seemed desperate to have you close. It takes you far from where you were first, the numb feeling that grew like a parasite your stomach swallowing it all, now instead, too sensitive to his touch.

Yes. You hate him for it, hate that it's too easy for him, the traumatized hero with too many issues, the world's strongest man that somehow manages to make a mess out of you just with something so simple as sitting on his lap.

He's so pleased when you moan, when you say his name and you forgot about mannerisms, he needs to pull out his other glove in response as his blonde hair falls over his face, throwing it to the floor as his bare hand is now able to rip apart your suit effortless. The warmth of his palm cups your now bare breast for him, and he leans into your chest, tongue flickering in circles over your nipple as you let out a strangled moan.

"Common, need you to use your words here," he demands for a moment, almost annoyed as you can see the traces of saliva that connected you to his mouth: Why does he look so good? Fucker. "Cause if you don’t stop me now I’ll reduce your suit to ashes.”

“Don’t care,” you know Ashley’s going to be pissed, yet it's not enough to say anything about it. "Fucking hate the suit anyway."

"Such a dirty mouth" you're tugging his hair, hand on your kneecap pulling it slightly to the side as he forces you to open your legs for him. "What can I do with you?"

There it is, the ripped sound of his hands tearing the rest of the fabric apart, the pliable desperation in his touch, grabbing, kissing, and palming the curves of your body as it's holy terrain, unstudied land. He's caught in the smell of your skin finally mixing with his, the way your hips grinded in need for a deeper contact.

He laughs at you, laughs at that sight of defeat when he finally slides the hand that was on your knee under the ripped leavings of your now-destroyed suit. Of course he fucking loves the way you're speechless all thanks to his efforts, that you're unable to keep still as you straddle him now confident he's not repulsed by your dirty nature.

"Did you get turned on by killing?" He asks, and you try to respond something like he's clearly dumb. "Been smelling you since you've got here. All wet, covered in blood."

He's far from lazering you, but you can feel the weight of his gaze almost trespassing you when his hand finally reaches that nice spot between your legs and feels your drenched underwear beneath his fingertips. He can feel it all, and you are aware of it.

He's driven by the sounds of your heartbeat, the way your skin glimmers with sweat, he knows you're enjoying every second of it, his fingertips fondling on top of the cloth moments before pulling it to side. The warm contact with your cunt is enough to make him lose it, enough to make him succumb beneath you as he explores the folds of your aching core, his other hand holding your hip just to keep you in place.

John seems to forget, always does. Cause his grip turns beyond bruising and you can hear the crack when he moves you against his hand, a new broken bone to added to the list as he's unaware to the sound it produces, the pain that makes you shake violently blending immediately with pleasure.

You can take it. You're tough and a big girl who's taken worse, so you don't whine about it knowing you must be healing already, instead, you let yourself be trapped in that haze he created, the sounds of your sex when he hits that very spot you overly-enjoy, digits slightly curving inside as he’s experiencing the velvety feeling of your walls colliding against his hand.

"That's it, keep the show for me.” He loves praising so much since you told him he’s doing good one time, he needs to do the same for you at the first chance he got while you offered yourself to him, riding his fingers. “Such a good slut.”

He’s concentrated in the way his fingers disappear inside of you, the intense smell of blood and sex that now fills the air as you moan out his name, the red droplets in your face much like freckles, far more wicked than pure marks on your skin.

“So nice, so warm,” he says to himself, the slick sound of your arousal filling the room, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your chest as he marks your skin like you’re all his.

He’s sure he’s alleviating your problems, sure he’s making you feel so much better, thumb tracing circles in your swollen bud as he stole cries of pleasure from your parted lips.

You don’t let him know you’re close but he can sense it, the slight change in your breathing each time more erratic, your heartbeats quickening their pace as you got closer to the edge.

And when you really finish, when you’re done riding your high, you grab the remains of your teared suit and look at him with that damn smile he loves. You know he’s expecting to receive anything back, any favor you’re willing to give in return.

But instead, when you got off his lap, you just caress his cheek gently before saying — “See you later, John? Kind of busy now.”

my masterlist

[madamechrissy]

Cursed Promises

Pairings: Sukuna x Fem reader

CW: This chap, fingering, sucking both Sukuna's monster c*cks, Sukuna calls you little bunny lmao, soft Sukuna in places, he's falling fast tbh, reader is a lil innocent thing, stomach tongue says HELLO, all his tongues say hi, lil bit of degradation, true form Sukuna

Summary: You have been promised to Ryomen Sukuna, King of curses, for as long as you've been alive, ostracized from your village, 'special'. Now you are to marry him, sight unseen. People everywhere fear him, but will you find yourself intrigued by him. Just who is the King of Curses to his new wife? Arranged marriage au

A/N: This is ALL fluff and SMUT lol, it's just our king falling for y/n <3 Gonna be like four parts to this, so a short fic! Monsterfking and fluff lol- WC this chap-5.8k

Comments/ reblogs appreciated ❤️

<<<part one part three>>>

Part Two

“Good day, my Queen.” You’re greeted by Uraume, Sukuna’s right hand, they are so ethereally lovely, you think, their white hair and pale silky skin, along with their honey brown eyes were something to behold. They’re donned in white robes, hands hiding in their long sleeves, bowing just so.

“Good morning, Uraume.” You say softly, you are dressed now in another set of purple and gold robes, it seems to be Sukuna’s favorite coloring, if he chooses your wardrobe, nearly all of it was reds, purples and golds. “Um… where is the King?”

“You wish to know where he is?” They ask curiously, tilting their head. You nod then, feeling your cheeks heat up, remembering last night with him, he’d been on your mind all morning now.

“I’m afraid I’m quite lost in this castle, and I also fear to disturb him if I do find him.” Uraume nods now.

“The king sent for you, actually, it is why I came here. Come along now, my Queen.”

You eagerly follow, and you think the serious Uraume gives a little turn of their lips, but your mind must be playing tricks. You met them before King Sukuna, they were part of the group that led you on the long trek from home, a calming presence yet so powerful with their energy.

What exactly was your power, your energy? Your clan had made sure you never explored such things, no one has taught you anything about it, but it must be special if you’re destined to bear Sukuna’s heir. You still have much to learn, you fear, you are following their swishing white robes as you descend through the massive halls. You pause when you hear a slam against the door.

“What is that?” You ask, frightened, and Uraume just sighs.

“Foolish fucking mortal. Aaha!” You hear booming laughter now, when you enter Sukuna’s throne room, he’s grinning like crazy as a man is picking himself up, holding his stomach.

“My king…”

“Any last words? Should I give you any?” He’s chuckling with an insanely huge grin now, red eyes landing on you, raising a dark, arrogant brow. “Ah, it’s my beautiful bride. Come on now, have a seat.”

You’re looking at the room filled with people, guards and lords and commoners alike, all bowing down to you now. You start to walk up to his throne, the dark black throne filled with what appears to be cow skulls. You gulp nervously at it, taking over so much, Sukuna takes over so much, and he’s just perched on it with a smirk, patting his thigh again.

“Come on, little bunny.” You glare now, and he chuckles in delight, as you stomp on over, gasping as he pulls you to his lap, one of his four hands on your thigh, the other brushing your hair back to reveal your bare shoulders. “Uraume, you did superb with these gowns.”

“I’m pleased you enjoy, my King.” Uraume now stands with the council, as Sukuna’s long dark nails press into the delicate silk of your gown, his hands are so huge he takes you over entirely, you’re so overwhelmed, but also…

You feel him pressing between your thighs, against your slick heat, and he leans close, lips against your ear. “Soaking wet in front of everyone? Slutty bunny.”

“Oh you-” You go to stand now, sure everyone can see your embarrassment, your flushed cheeks.

“Ah ah, I’m your husband, you’ll sit here on my throne with me, wife.” He sets you back down now, hands firmly holding you in place, against the strong, muscular thigh that is making you throb.

You remember last night vividly even moreso now, being pressed like this, he rests his stubborn chin on one of his tattooed hands now, bored expression on his face. “And you, what is it you wish to plead for?”

A nervous man comes up to the throne, trembling before the two of you, “M-my King, my wife, she’s been taken by the demons of the East, please, I beg for your help!”

“We’re too busy, mortal, go bother someone else with your woes, I’m busy with more important things.” He says, his hand now reaching up to grab your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse point, and you realize he’s playing with your body’s reaction to his touch.

“My king… we should help.” You murmur, he leans forward, two of his eyes glinting angrily at you now.

“The bunny speaks?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, earning a raised brow. “Yes, the bunny speaks. Why am I here if not-”

“Insolent brat.” Sukuna sighs, cutting you off. “Not here.”

You nod then, realizing your folly, his hand is squeezing your hips so tightly, but it only makes you more intrigued, the duality of him. “I’ll consider it.”

“Oh thank you, thank-ah!” Sukuna has thrown him into a wall now, waving a hand and rolling all four of those eyes.

“Enough, out.” The man stumbles backwards, and Sukuna and you listen to the next few people, he seems to enjoy hurting them, finding great amusement, you wonder at his sadistic nature and big grin at it.

Suddenly a young girl comes and he does not treat her as such, he listens a bit more attentively now. He orders for help for her village, surprising you somewhat, but Sukuna did indeed protect those that had agreements with him, like your village for example. But the girl you notice he doesn’t fling for amusement, making you contemplate him a bit.

“What are you looking at, brat?” He says now, as you study him carefully, tilting your head.

“You’re rather sweet sometimes.” You tease, earning his anger.

“Sweet!?” He demands, and you suppress a giggle. “And you’re laughing at me? And here I am, being benevolent.”

“I apologize, my King, I don’t know what’s come over me.” He glares now, setting his jaw, and then suddenly an insane amount of energy pools right in one of his hands, he’s holding it up, a bright ball of dark purple and red, so intense the entire room stands still now. “My king…”

“Should I show you who I really am, brat? Since you find me amusing.” You shake your head then, feeling your body start to tremble, but not in fear of him, for fear of everyone in the room. “No? How about him first.”

“Stop!” You snatch his wrist then, to the gasps of everyone in the room, and the shocked look of the King himself, as you nullify his energy to nothing, little puffs of color is all that’s left. “I… I…” You’re gasping, opening your mouth and closing it over and over again, as the room is so silent you could hear the smallest pin drop.

Sukuna scowls at you now, and you know you’re in for it, whatever that was… what was that!?

“Uraume, see them all out. Now.” He orders, and they quickly obey, soon you’re left in a giant empty throne room with a furious king, their footsteps echoing through the halls, the giant doors slamming shut, and your heart races faster than ever before, alone with him.

You can feel his anger, his power, but there’s something else now, something new. His eyes are on you, the room spinning with his energy as he releases it, you can see it like a tornado of purple and red circling around him, but it’s not coming towards you, earning his anger as he stands, looming so big over you. You stand up, trembling but not backing down.

“What on Earth… what the fuck… you’re…”

You smile then. “Does this mean I’m more powerful-ah!”

“It means you’re an annoying little brat.” He says, grabbing you by your hair with one hand, another grabbing your ass, the energy dissipated.

“Why are you like this?” You ask, and he laughs, a low, deep, terrifying sound really, but it doesn’t scare you.

“Like what, bunny?” 

“So powerful, yet so cruel. You could help so many but you choose to just watch and enjoy their suffering instead!”

“It’s the way of the world, my world.”

You step forward, his hand still firm in your hair, but the pain is noticeable, the pull of him drawing you closer. “So you enjoy this cruelty.”

“You mean to understand me? You just met me, bride.”

You slide your hands up his bare chest then, so much of the broad, muscular chest on display, the black lines running down it. “Will you let me actually get to know you?” You ask softly, he sighs then, something softening for a moment, before he’s back to a tense stance.

“I’ve never met anyone who could do that to me before. You’re a puzzle I want to solve, and I will solve you, one way or another.” He stands now, his robes sliding down his shoulders, his muscular chest bare, then you see him, naked, his two cocks already standing at attention, you gulp at them. He’s chuckling now.

“You think this scares me?” You ask, trying to keep your voice from shaking, his cocks are so thick, so long, veins wrapping them. You’ve never seen anything like it before, but you’re not scared, you’re more intrigued than anything. “I can handle you, King of Curses.”

“Oh really, brave little bunny?” He steps forward, the energy surrounding you like a cloak, yet you’re untouched, in fact… you enjoy it.

“You cannot hurt me. And you do not want to, do you?” You ask softly, his brows lower over narrowed eyes, as he steps closer, his hard cocks touching you through your robes now.

“Tch, you really think you’re a match for my power? You’ve barely seen any of it, any of me.”

“So show me then.” Your hand drifts down his rippled body, blushing as you remember the pleasure he brought.

“You dare challenge me, brat?” He whispers, and you just nod, and then Sukuna slams his lips against yours, kissing you, hard and brutal, and you kiss back just as fiercely. For your second real kiss with him, you catch on quickly, because you are craving him, more and more every moment.

His hands are everywhere, ripping your gown off, revealing your naked body to the room, his cocks pressing against your stomach when he pulls you back against him, hot and heavy. You moan into his mouth, feeling yourself getting wetter as his other hands grip your bare ass, squeezing and pressing you against him now, you’re crying out, head falling back.

“Here?” You whisper, looking around, and he grins.

“You’ll service me here, like a good girl.” And then he’s dropping you down onto his throne, his hands on your shoulders, pushing you down to sit, and his cocks are directly in front of your face. “All that talk, time to shut your bratty mouth, hmm?”

You look at him defiantly, hand grabbing the top cock, stroking up and down tentatively, he moans, and you relish in it, leaning forward, licking the sticky white substance at the tip of each cock, pooling in the slits. He wraps his hands in your hair, pulling hard, making you even wetter, his other two hands bracing on either side of the cold, hard throne, tummy clenching in desire.

“Which one will you service first?” He says with a wicked smirk, and you lean down and take one of his massive cocks into your mouth, sucking and licking like you’ve never done before, your hand reaching down to stroke the other one, feeling the heat, feeling him so hard.

Sukuna groans, his hand in your hair, guiding you as you suck and kiss and lick, his energy swirling around you like a storm, but instead of being afraid, it’s like it’s feeding you, filling you up, urging you on, as you now start to suck his other cock, looking up at him the entire time. He’s surprisingly gentle when it comes to his thrusts, not pushing too far, letting you sink your mouth on him.

You’re so wet and aching you whine now, vibrating around his cock, and he sucks in a breath, brushing your hair back. “Does my needy bunny need her cunt played with?”

“Please, my King.”

He scoffs, but his hips stutter, his hand grabbing your hair as you lap your tongue on him. “My king? I have a name.”

“S-Sukuna?”

“I have a name.” He says again, and you pull back from sucking, one of his hands grips your throat, squeezing now. “I could break you, bunny, like you’re nothing but a little doll. Use you for my pleasure.”

You’re shaking with need, somehow every damn thing he says and does just makes you want him more, this insane need that’s clawing through you, made worse when you taste more of his salty liquid dripping from his tips. “You could break me, do you want to, my King?”

“Sukuna. You are my wife, you may.” His voice is so soft, even as a tattooed hand is choking your throat.

“Are you sure?” You ask quietly.

“You question your husband, your King?” He demands, and you enjoy his name on your lips far too much.

“Sukuna.” He moans now, taking your hand and putting it between your thighs, you squeak, pulling it off, earning his laughter. “I cannot do that!”

“You can, and you will.”

You gasp at his audacity. “You have four hands!”

“Mmm, I do, but I want to see you do it. Come on, don't be shy, bunny, feel how wet you are sucking my cocks.” You touch yourself as one of his hands is urging your finger on, pressing it against your neglected clit, in little circles that feel far too good, his nails delicately pressing into your scalp as he shoves a cock back inside your mouth, you’re drooling all over his length, onto his other cock now.

He’s feeling your slick as he guides you, only serving to make his thrusts more insistent, there’s a hand guiding your clit, a hand on your breast, the two pulling your hair, taking you over entirely now your fingers are weak, slipping. He takes your limp fingers now, bending down to suck your juices off them. You’re gasping as he goes deeper, as you take more.

“Pathetic, can't you even touch yourself?” He taunts, you glare again, yanking your right hand back, sinking a finger into your slick heat, moaning at the stretch of it, and he falters then, staring at you, lust dilating his eyes, droopy as his mouth is wide open. “So needy you’ll finger yourself?”

“You talk overmuch.” He glares, shoving his cock further down your throat now, grunting as he fucks your throat, making your throb around your own fingertip, urging him on.

“Insolent girl.” He drags your mouth down to his other cock, before shoving both tips in your mouth, tears pour down your eyes, jaw locked open. “What can’t handle them both? All talk?”

You glare up at him under your lashes again, sucking harder, then you watch him, his head falling back, as your hand leaves your entrance, instead working both his cocks. He’s sucking in a breath, rippling muscles tensing, and that is when you see it, opening now…

A mouth on his stomach!?

You shriek, when it laps against your cheek. “What on…”

“Did you think those were all my tongues? Be good and I’ll let you ride it tonight.” He says, you bite your lip now, stroking his cocks with both of your hands. “And you want it so bad, don’t you slutty bunny?”

“I am not a bunny.” But you do find yourself insanely curious, he retracts it and allows you to finish sucking him, and he’s groaning then, huffing, jutting his hips as the tongues on his hands are lapping at your breasts.

“Fuck, sucking them better than any concubine, look at you.” He whispers, his other hands gripping your head. “Could crush you like this.” You’re crying out now, grinding on the leather plush of the seat below you. “Making a mess of my fucking throne, hmm… F=fuck…”

Sukuna shoves his thick cocks as deep as they can go in your open mouth, you’re gagging and crying, slobber and spit leaking everywhere out of your mouth now, body trembling with need as he’s thickening against your tongue, your cheeks hollow as you suck. Then he’s pulsing, and so much cum starts to pour inside, shocking you, the hot liquid coating your mouth, your tongue.

“Swallow it all, brat.” He orders softly, you gulp it all down, lapping at the tips of his cocks, sucking every bit, feeling his thighs tense under you, his body trembling from aftershocks, leaving you so needy you can’t take it. “Open.”

You do as your king and husband commands, his pastel pink hair is falling just so over his face as a hand wracks through it, spiking it up, and he sees you’ve swallowed it all. He moans now, caressing your cheek, leaning forward. “Did I please you, my king?” He gently smacks your cheek, but his hand is so huge and he’s so strong it stings.

“What was my name again, bunny?”

“Sukuna.” Your voice is hoarse, and Ryomen Sukuna exhales, thumb pressing on your lower lip.

“Open again.” You do as he says, only for him to spit saliva, dripping it into your mouth, shocking you, but you swallow obediently. “That’s a good bunny. One more thing…”

He flips you over now, making you sink to your knees. “What…”

“Clean that mess up.”

“No!” You glare up at him, he kneels down with you, two hands on your breasts, tongues lapping all over you, his free two hands on your waist, pressing you towards the slick on his throne. “You’re disgusting.”

“You love it, slutty little virgin. Go ahead, lick it, if you want me to get you to cum at all. Or I’ll leave you, just like this.” You shake your head, and he grabs your hair, wrapping it around a fist, as your nipples perk up, sensitive and aching, your body covered in goosebumps. “Don’t you want to cum later? All over me?”

“N-no… ah!” Sukuna sinks two thick, long fingers in your cunt then, filling you for the first time, you scream out, walls fluttering around him, dripping down his hands, earning his satisfied groan. “Your nails!? I… ah!”

“You think I’d cut your perfect little cunt?” He laughs now, yanking his fingers out, the nails temporarily gone, only to shoot back out, as his teeth are biting your nipples, you’re a sloppy, drippy mess in front of him. “Lick it, and I’ll come please you in your chambers tonight.”

“You’re even more cruel than they know.” You say, he just laughs now, shoving your head forward, you barely lap it up with a tip of your tongue, to his amused laughter, and you look back and glare.

“You really did it!” He’s holding his stomach in laughter, and now you stand, shoving at him as he’s at level with your tummy, he keeps laughing now as you feel tears prick your eyes.

“Don’t bother coming to my chambers.” You say through tears, overstimulated, humiliated, and suddenly as you’re grabbing your robe he grabs you, yanking you against him. “Leave me alone, go… get a concubine to amuse you.”

Sukuna’s face drops then, as you slip on your robes hastily, he grabs your waist, you try to wriggle free to no avail. “I did not… you…”

“Leave me be.” You’re sobbing now, you don’t know what’s overtaken you, but instead of mocking you further he pulls you close, letting you cry against his chest, holding you with all arms. “Don’t touch m-me.”

“Sad little bunny. Sensitive little brat.” He sighs, stroking your hair now, it feels far too good.

“Are you comforting me?”

He huffs. “No!”

“No?” You look up through watery eyes, Sukuna’s jaw sets now.

“No. Just… it gives me a very irritating feeling when you cry, I do not enjoy that feeling, so I order you to stop.” You shake your head in confusion, hiccuping through your tears. “I said stop, brat.”

“I c-can’t… I want you… and you…”

“Shut your mouth.” He slams his lips on yours, lifting you up like you’re nothing, kissing you over and over. “It was a joke. Do not cry again.”

“I can’t make promises.” He swipes your cheeks with his thumbs, kissing your cheeks now, tasting your salty tears. “You were mean to me.”

He sighs now, brushing the rough pads of his thumbs on your cheeks. “I’ll have to baby you, hmm? Stupid baby.”

“Ugh!” You shove at him again, turning, but he brings your back against him, bending low to whisper in your ear.

“I’ll be in your chambers tonight. Understood?” Your heart starts faltering now, you manage a little nod, and he sighs, holding you so tightly you can’t breathe for a moment, but you relish being in his arms, resting your head against him. “You’re using whatever powers you have over me.”

“I do not even know what my powers are!”

“Hmph. Go.” He kisses your neck and then shoos you away, but you’re pouting. “Do not use those eyes on me.”

“What eyes?” You ask, curiously.

“Do not act so… just… I’ll please you tonight, I have business to attend to. Out.” You bite your lip nervously, pulse thrumming in your ears now, you glare one more time at him, making him run a hand across his face, now back in his robes. “Do I need to shove both my cocks in both your holes right now?”

Your mind whirls at that, as you blink rapidly. “Both my-”

“Out.” You stomp away now, he almost laughs at how adorable you are, but he’s too fucking confused. And luckily you are missing the look of confusion and longing on Sukuna’s face, as he wonders just what are you and why can he not stand your tears when he massacres people!? What sort of damn magic do you possess?

How can the King of curses be so entranced by some little brat!?

He hates the fact that he’d do anything to put a smile on your face after upsetting you.

*****

There is a knock on your door as your maid prepares you for dinner with the King, you’re still so confused by him, so angry at what he thought was amusing, and wonder why you are so desperate for him. Just yesterday you had no clue what pleasure was, now he’s left your body on edge, you’re so eager for him again, he hadn’t barely even touched you.

You shiver just thinking of those fingers sinking into you, how they glistened when he yanked them out, dripping down his long nails. He’d hidden those nails not to hurt you, he cared when you cried… there was more to him then he let on, surely, more to this cursed sorcerer.

You want to know more.

Uraume comes now, holding a delicate white box, opening it and revealing a breathtaking gold and diamond necklace. “What is this!?”

“The King asks that you wear this tonight.” Uraume says, your hands tremble just so, it’s already so opulent living here, but the way it glitters under the soft lights pouring through your window.

“It’s too beautiful.” You whisper.

“King Sukuna has ordered it. Shall I put it on you?” They ask, you nod eagerly, looking in the mirror as Uraume comes behind you, placing the necklace on your throat as you lift your hair out of the way.

“Thank you, it’s so lovely, I adore it.” You touch it gently, one of the many baubles along your collarbone now.

“Do not thank me, it’s the King.”

“Uraume… tell me. Do you… is he… the King is…”

Uraume tilts their head. “My Queen?”

“Do you find the King to be… kind?”

“Kind… hmm. I suppose he can be at times. He is indeed the most powerful. Why do you ask?” Uraume helps finish your hair, taking over for the maid.

“I find him very interesting.” Uraume lets out a little smile that you don’t see.

“I see. Let us go, he does not like to wait.” You follow them now, and are led to the dining hall, where there’s a plethora of food, and instead of your seat on the opposite end as is done, he has it pulled next to him. One of the servants pulls out a seat now, but Sukuna yanks you on his lap.

You gasp, clinging to his neck for stability, muscled, thick and veiny, making you heat up as you think of all of him. He fingers the necklace curiously, tilting his head as one hand holds you down on him, another lifting a fork and stabbing a bite of food, guiding it to your mouth.

“Open.” You do as he says, Sukuna puts a morsel on your mouth. “Chew it up, you’ll need your strength.”

“Strength for?”

He grins now, shifting you on his lap, to where his cocks are pressing against your ass, you feel so tiny on him, his huge body overtaking you, arms all barring you against the dining room table. “Strength for me making you break under me.”

“I… um…” You look up at him, he’s shoving another bite into your mouth, you gasp when he slides a hand up your inner thigh.

“My feisty little bunny has nothing to say?” He taunts, but you truly can’t think, eyes fluttering, moaning when he slides another bite into your mouth, something sweet that bursts as you chew.

“Yummy.” You finally speak, and he sighs, fingers now running under the gems that decorate your chest now, exhaling, holding you just a little tighter, his embrace is addicting, everything about him draws you in, when it should scare you. But as you brush your hand on his face and he tenses, scowling.

“Will you… do that… thing, human?”

“What thing my King?” You ask, and he squishes your cheeks, pressing your lips up on either side, ruby eyes glinting under the chandeliers that hang. “Smile?”

“That. It’s an order.” You giggle then, you can’t help it, Sukuna exhales as he sees you, watches you smile, lighting up your face.

“Is that adequate, my King?” You tease, he is cupping your face tenderly, your heart starts racing, pounding in your chest as you turn toward him, straddling him carefully, leaning close. His hands tense, and you could swear they tremble just a bit, this huge monster of a man, weak for you. “I quite like you, when not being so nasty and cruel.”

“You like me?” He grabs your hips, pulling you against him, until his cocks are pressed on your heat. Your head falls back, a moan escaping, he starts nipping at your breasts harshly with his teeth, leaving bite marks, wet spots glistening. “You’re a foolish girl, perfect prey.”

“I think you like me too.” You grind against him now, fuck it feels good, your neglected clit begging for more. He grips you tightly then, shoving things aside to lay you on the dining table, you take up such a small part of it, laying there so pretty for him, your robes falling apart, revealing your soft skin.

“You’re an impetuous, annoying creature. Have you no sense of self preservation?” He slips his hands up your thighs as they tremble, sliding the silk up your legs, baring you to him, he audibly groans when he sees your cunt again. “Already wet, too?”

“You promised, you know.” You arch your hips up, pouting, and he laughs at you, undoing his robe, you gasp out when his tongue opens from his abdomen, stretching the skin, lapping your pussy up completely, so huge and hot and wet. “Ngh!”

He pulls his tongue back, laying over you, barring you with two strong arms, as the others hold your thighs apart. He leans down so close, and all you ache to do is kiss him more, he’s intimidating, gigantic, he has his stomach licking at you, but you keep thinking how his full lips would feel, smirking on your own. Your hands reach up and you pull at his hair.

“Excuse me, brat.” He swats your hands, and you pout again, earning all four eyes rolling. “Don’t give me that look. Ah, I like that expression, stupid fucked out face.” You’re helpless, when a hand grips your wrists, slamming your bound hands above your head, and his tongue is working between your folds. “Taste s’good on all my mouths.”

“S-Suk-ah!” He’s grinning now, sharp white canines glinting as his tongue slips inside your entrance, it’s so thick your walls are stretched, as he devours you on the dining room table, right next to the dinner that’s falling and clattering to the floor. “M’gonna… gonna…”

“That’s it, let me drink you, bunny.” He leans so close, but he won’t kiss you, he is drinking up all your soaking wet arousal, that starts gushing when he reaches a hand down, pinching your clit as his tongue fucks deeper, only for the tongue on his hand to now flick over your clit.

It’s all too much, your orgasm pours over you until you’re blinded, all while your husband, the king, is grinning, watching you avidly, as drool seeps from your mouth, while you’re shaking, struggling to close your legs, but he doesn’t let you. Your eyes roll back as your cunt throbs around his stomach tongue, and he’s lapping every bit of it from you.

“Please… please…” You whine now, he laughs as he watches.

“Pathetic, look at you. Pathetic, puny little bunny. Please what? Greedy thing, need to keep cumming?” He lets his tongue slide back in his abdomen, but now he’s sinking two fingers in you, pressing on that spot, you whine out, tears falling from pleasure.

“Please… k-kiss me.”

“Kiss you? You’re so odd, you know that?” You scowl, struggling to release your wrists, breasts slipping out of the robe, much to his pleasure and delight, he bends down and sucks on one, sharp teeth biting it, as his cocks press on your tummy.

“Kiss me, w-want it.”

“Demanding little…”

You free your wrists then, much to his surprise, yanking on his hair now, dragging his mouth to yours. He hesitates, but then passionately kisses you, brutal and rough, bruising your lips with his bites, with the force. You wrap your thighs around his thick hips now, rolling up for more and more.

He pulls back for a breath, fingers back in, pumping you so good, you’re cumming again, getting weak from pleasure, soaking his hand, soaking the table, you hear the sound of it, the squishing, your moans echoing in the chamber. You’re sure everyone in the damn castle can hear, but you really don’t care, you’re crying out so much your voice breaks.

“M’ready.” You whine now, reaching down, stroking him, he groans as you do, as he’s straining so hard.

“You’d lose your innocence on a table?” You’re blinking sleepily now, as the third orgasm hits, and you almost lose consciousness, it’s too much, his tongues all over, his hands everywhere, fingers in your cunt, fingers around your throat. Hands on hips, hands on your thighs, tongues lapping you every inch they find. “Slutty, sleepy brat. You will not sleep on me.”

“M’not… sleeping… c-can take it. Want it.” You’re a mess now, as he looks down at you, you’re so fucked out your eyes are fluttering to stay open, you’re covered in marks from his hands, from his mouth. Your pretty face has streaks of tears and drool that’s pooling out the side of it.

He should fuck you now, you’re pliant and ready, but you’re also exhausted and weak, still a human despite whatever energy you have. You’re lazily kissing him, why does he enjoy those kisses this much!? It's not something he even did, but with you… he can’t stand how good your lips feel. He felt horrible all day for hurting your feelings earlier.

Him, wanting a human to smile.

You have wetness glistening on your puffy cunt, glittering with your cum and his saliva, he can taste you everywhere, you’re all over, your scent, your face in his visions every time he blinks. It’s been two days but he’s finding himself obsessed, he wants more and more of you, so much so he can’t focus. You’re getting weaker in his arms, clearly the orgasms have taken their toll.

“You will rest for tomorrow, then your slutty cunt can have my cocks, is that understood? I will not deal with this weakness.” He says, and you giggle, the sound far too good to his ears, you’re grinning even, which is so pretty… and insolent. “You laugh at me? Want a demonstration of punishment for such a thing?”

“S-sorry. I feel s’good.” You’re clearly cockdrunk, and he hasn’t even gotten to slide a cock in you yet. He can’t stop the annoying affection from starting.

“To bed.” He hoists you up now, carrying you, and you snuggle to him, he’s so warm and he feels so good. He’s carrying you up the stairs, and you want more of him, more of this fucking amazing feeling, but you can barely function, eyes heavy, fading in and out. Soon you feel it, the softness of your bed. “Annoying brat.”

“C’mere.” You pull on him, of course he doesn’t budge, he’s pure muscle, but he lets you pull him close, you cup his face, yawning.

“You insolent-”

“Sorry!” You kiss him again, fuck you enjoy it. “I don’t want to displease you… I know we should consummate… I wanna be with you in…”

“Just go to sleep. You don’t displease me, just annoy me.” He says, surprisingly soft, and you look at him curiously, taking in his face as it’s above yours.

“Will you stay in bed with me tonight?” You ask, pleadingly, he sighs, jaw locking now.

“You’re so needy and endlessly aggravating. I have more to do, I cannot just sleep because you’re cock drunk.”

“Cock drunk! Ugh. Fine then.” You sigh, turning over, and when you feel a blanket cover you, you can’t stop the smile on your face. “Will you lay with me for a bit?”

“No, brat.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Go to bed. Now.” You giggle again, and hear his annoyed sigh as he walks out for the night, leaving you to snuggle, still smelling him, feeling him everywhere.

You just want more of him.

taglist Sukuna- @mistygrovesarchive @mima0127 @janrcrosssing @thejujvtsupost @clp-84 @makingtimemine @silvarys @after-laughter-come-tears @vantedaes @liivzen @just-lilita @jdevilmadness @lixern @spaceeyhem @thisisew @bozos-r-us @zwr1tx @slootbear @pamemoonlight @xxyaoi-nationxx @jschlattsgff @alessdramawouldbenice @sukunasfavgroupie @1emma1 @nanamjai @1-800-blues-clues @watashiwasohidesu @vynwan-cbq  @mouseyboo @imbacklovie @cyberket @chuuminn @diannana @hanham10 @arilxup88 @urgirlraven @sillymortalblob @yv-ania

part three>>>

[gojorgeous]

"sure thing"

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

“Who?!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Dean,” you call.

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

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

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

“Yeah. Long day at work.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You swallow. “Dunno. Just… everything.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re a sorcerer,” he says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, what’s your technique” 

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

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

“Bet I could find out.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That was Versace,” he whines. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now. Now, while he’s not looking.

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

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

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

Fuck. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your lips part. “You knew?” 

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

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

But you have one thing on him. 

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

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

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

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

You freeze. He notices. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck. Quit teasing so much.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think you like this, gorgeous.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, fuck. You’re so tight.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He groans. “You got it, gorgeous.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

≡;-꒰  𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 (?) 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒  ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 & 𝑫𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔: 𝑨𝒘𝒌𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝑴𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝑫𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑺𝒆𝒙

──  mdni sexual content. inclusive of: vaginal sex, slight pet name usage, shower sex, getting caught, sex as a stress reliever. but overall this is a lot of fun LMAO

the truth, is that caleb would always be willing to experiment.

he's had so much pent up for you, that you'll frequently find he has something in new in mind to try out with you—or, in short, he liked to find new ways to have his way with you. so it wouldn't surprise you that eventually, you'd have your hands pressed against the glass, your head tilting back to meet his kisses. of course, it would feel good, like it always did. his cock would fill you so well, and taking it from behind made you feel everything so much more deeply. it would be oh so asy for both of you to get lost in the pleasure, droplets from the shower, running down your back, the rush of water doing nothing to drown out your moans.

... but shower sex is never just rainbows and butterflies, and sometimes, being fucked silly allows all sense of rationality to go down the drain.

it's quick, when it happens—caleb accidentally knocks down the bar of soap, and the already-running water makes things progressively worse. you gasp, wide-eyed, as you slip, and caleb seems just as surprised as you. perhaps, his reflexes did him no favors in the moment, as his attempts to catch you only have him slipping on the very same trail of soap you'd also slipped on.

the both of you remain on the shower floor with agonizing pain, and perhaps you look more like a drenched, unsatisfied cat than anything else.

"shit—fuck—m'sorry, pipsqueak..."

"...we should just stick to the bedroom next time."

sex with rafayel is always so intoxicating.

he'd have himself buried inside of you in a way that just feels so right, so perfect, that you would always find yourself lost in the moment. whether he goes slow, or fast, or even if he lets you take charge, the result is the same—you could only ever focus on him, him, him. perhaps, it was intentional on his part, but you liked it that way. he made you feel good.

except sometimes, rafayel was too much of an airhead that your distraction wouldn't always end well... such as one particular morning, where he had you pressed against his couch, fucking you as well as he always did, and the sound of footsteps barely registered in either of your ears.

"rafayel, why aren't you answering my calls? i told you, this is an important deal, and—holy fucking shit! are you insane?!!"

rafayel never quite bothered to lock the door, and though you knew this and tried often to get him to do it, there were still times that he would... forget.

such as right then.

in that moment, you would yelp, hitting at his chest, barely having the strength to push him off of you as he hastily throws a nearby blanket over the two of you instead.

and thomas would storm away, eyes shut tightly.

"god! lock the door, rafayel, seriously! just—just finish whatever you're doing and call me back!"

"yeah, yeah. bye, now!"

"...rafa?! never let that happen again!"

in the years you've spent together, you had come to the conclusion that xavier liked to relieve his tension in very specific ways.

you didn't mind it, of course; in fact, you enjoyed it. it's become an established part of your week, him pressing you against the door in as soon as you get home from a particularly tiring mission, soft kisses gradually turning more heated and passionate as he leads you into the bedroom. these moments were some of the only times he'd allow himself to be more selfish with his desires for you, and with no surprise, you'd find yourself looking forward to it—expecting it.

but on one particular night, you find him to be less... dominant, than he usually would be with you in these moments, almost passive. but his hands still roam your body, brushing against all the sensitive spots he's memorized like the back of his hand, still kissing you in a way that would make you melt—so you don't question it immediately. perhaps, you think, he wanted you to take the lead this time.

except, you reach down, and he's...

...not hard at all.

even as you rub against him, as his lips place soft kisses on your neck—

there's no reaction.

he looks up feebly and then you find the telltale traces of exhaustion on his face, the tips of his ears pink with embarrassment. his eyes are nearly drooping closed.

"sorry, angel, i'm too.... i think... i think i just really want to sleep right now, after all..."

"...oh..."

over the course of the past couple of weeks, you'd found that zayne's adorable affection for cats had gotten the better of him.

the calico cat you'd often see roaming his street would now prance happily around his house, feeling almost more at home than zayne himself—surely, at least, that it was certainly home more often than him. you found it adorable, and sweet, and you loved it, you really did!

but...

your more passionate nights with zayne would be rare enough as it is considering his busy schedule, and it was unfortunate that you now hard a rather... entitled audience.

he would by thrusting into you so nicely, so deeply, your legs hooked over his shoulder as he leaned in to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. often, your eyes would be closed as you took in every bit of pleasure he would give to you, fully focused on the feeling of his cock stretching your walls the way you so desperately needed.

...only now, when you open your eyes, you find that a certain ball of fluff had casually walked over to lay on zayne's back.

your eyes lock, and it's almost as if the moment is completely lost.

zayne would stop thrusting, noticing your change in mood, and then he'd recognize the weight on his back.

"...sorry, sweetheart... should i—"

"....it's staring."

"..."

"zayne, maybe... we should do this at my place next time..."

⁺₊ / an: light moments to start the day!!! 💖 it was super hard to choose what exactly to write because there's a lot of awkwardness that goes into sex, but i hope this was a fun little read~

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

[rosenclaws]

obsessed with your ex || Worst!Logan Howlett smut

summary: In his world you were his wife and he loved you and then you died. In this world you're his girlfriend and he loves you. At least you think he does. Still you can't help the voice in the back of your head telling you that you're nothing but a sad replacement.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY. insecure + jealous!reader, a very very toxic mindset, the reader's mind is very mean to her, reader is a mutant that can make objects disappear, angst, happy ending, rough sex, riding, french kissing, oral (f!receiving), a slight breakdown, soft sex, missionary, Logan is kinda a softie, cockwarming, fingering.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: Okay so it's here!! I need to make this clear that the readers mindset is NOT healthy and that relationships need good communication. That being said here's my fic idea that I've been thinking about for a bit. I love Olivia Rodrigo sm (I even saw her in concert!!) and this song was just begging to be written into a fic. Anyways I really hope you like it and that it's not too insane lmao. Also i made the graphic but i kinda hate it but i dont wanna change it so here we are I know it's ugly but its FINE

How long have you been here? Staring. Observing every little thing about you. Your nose, your eyes, your lips, your hair, your chin. The way your arms fall by your sides. Every. Little. Detail.

Did she have the same colored eyes? Did she talk like you? Was she smart? Was she powerful? Did he look at her the same way? Did he fuck her like he fucks you?

You clench your fists as you stare angrily at the mirror. He loves you. He says he loves you and yet it feels like you can never compare to her. She was the love of his life. She was an X-Men. She died. She was you. You're his dead fucking wife in his universe while you were nothing to the Logan in this one. 

He looked at you like a kicked puppy that first day you met. A lost little pet that had been searching for its owner. Dragged through hell and back just to get to you. It was easy to fall for him. Handsome, a little rough around the edges. You hadn’t even been dating for that long but it didn’t matter right? He worshiped you. He loved you. He promised he loved you.

But sometimes in the back of your head you wonder if when he's kissing you, does he imagine her? Does he close his eyes while he's pounding into you and imagine it's her? How could you ever compete? She was perfect, she was kind, she was everything to him. Spiraling deeper and deeper into a whirlpool of doubt and envy. There's a heavy pounding on the door but you choose to ignore it. Too wrapped up in your twisted mind to care. 

"Sweetheart, let me in." Logan's gruff voice was slightly muffled by the door. 

You clench your jaw as you finally tear your eyes away from the mirror. You slam open the door taking Logan by surprise. His eyes scan yours for injury, a worried look in his face as he steps into the bathroom. 

"I got worried, you were in here a long time." His arms wrap around your waist. 

He's looking at you with pity. At least that's what your brain tells you. Was he worried that you were hurt because he loves you or because he was thinking of her death again? You know he still dreams of her. He can hide it when he's awake but the nightmares don't lie. It hurts so bad. Love me. Love me. You're jealous you know. She's dead, she's gone. So why can't he love you. You push him off and storm out the bathroom. Nothing makes sense anymore in your head. 

"What the fuck?" Logan follows you and you feel yourself tensing up. 

It's a miracle your powers haven't started to go haywire yet. So many different emotions swirl around in your head until it mixes together to form one single feeling.

Need.

You grab Logan's shirt and pull him into you. Smashing your lips onto his with a hunger that you've never felt before. Logan hisses as you bite his bottom lip harshly but you don't give him time to say anything as you slip your tongue into his mouth. He groans as he starts to take some control back. Hands slipping up your shirt and ripping to shreds with ease.

You pull back from his lips, chest heaving for air as you paw at his shirt. Silently demanding he take it off which he happily does. Your lips are back onto his in an instant. He slowly walks you back until you fall onto the bed. You fall onto the bed and lick your lips. The bugle in his pants is evident as you flick your hand and the belt disappears. 

"I liked that belt." You pay no mind to his comment as you unbutton his jeans and pull them down, leaving him in his boxers. 

"Easy there sweetheart," Logan pushes you back gently and crawls on top of you. Logan kisses down your chest, teasing each nipple with his tongue. 

"Let me take my time." He purrs.

His hands touch and squeeze your breasts roughly making you whine. You watch his arms move, god he's so hot. He's close to making you forget. He kisses down, down, all the way down. He sneaks out the tip of his claws to pop open the button of your pants and he yanks them down until they're all the way off.

"There she is, my perfect girl." His girl. That's right your his girl. No one else's.

Logan pulls your panties to the side as he situates himself between your legs. He stuffs his face without shame, licking hungrily and practically moaning at the taste. You arch your back as Logan devours you. Watching his back muscles move are mesmerizing. He's yours. He loves you. He promises he does.

You can't stop the thoughts that begin to invade you. Overwhelmed by pleasure from Logan and pain from the horrible ideas that pop into your head. Did he do this with her too? Did he worship her? Do you taste like her? Is that why he can't get enough? 

"Fuck!" You hiss as you sit up and tell Logan to stop. He does immediately, wondering what the hell is going on. 

"Can't fucking wait." You scratch down his chest with your nails. He groans and tries to crawl on top of you but you shake your head. 

"I'm going to ride you until you can't come anymore." You growl.

You bite his shoulder harshly making him hiss. It heals right up much to your dismay. How badly you wish you could mark him. You make his boxers disappear but before he can make a smart comment you sink down on him all the way. You whimper as you start to bounce on his cock. Loving how much he fills you.

You need to be fucked stupid. You're desperate for Logan to fuck every bad thought out of your head. To promise that he loves you so that you can believe him. You want to believe him. Please, you have to believe him. 

"Sweetheart." Logan's breath is labored as you relentlessly fuck yourself on his cock. You feel so damn good but fuck he can tell something is on your mind. 

"What do you need, let me help you." He sits up on his hands, placing one on your back as he tries to get you to slow down. His words make you want to scream. What do you need? You look at him and the only thing your rotten brain can tell you is that he is thinking of her. 

"I need you to fucking love me!" You yell.

The dam of built up feelings breaks down as tears pour out of your eyes. Ugly, horrible sobs that make your body shake. Logan watches with horror in his eyes as he stills your hips, using his strength to lift you off of him as you continue to cry. 

"I do love you." He says softly but you shake your head. 

"No!" You shout. You pound your fist against Logan's chest over and over again but he barely moves. 

"You love her! I know you do." Logan's heart breaks at the sound of your sobs. 

"I'm not your dead fucking wife Logan!" You should regret the words coming out of your mouth but you can't stop them. 

"You look at me and you see her. Like I'm just some fucking placeholder!" You let out an anguished scream as Logan captures your wrists in his hands. You know the stories. She was a hero, she was perfect in every single way. 

"How can I compete with, with her?" You say completely defeated.

Your head falls against his chest. There's a sense of relief that washes over you. Thoughts that have plagued you for months are finally out in the open. Yet the fear of what comes next overtakes any other feeling.

"Look at me." Logan tilts your head up but you push his hand away. 

"Sweetheart." He sighs and lets go of your face.

Logan's never been good at this. Talking. Being vulnerable. Then he lost everything and he hardened even more and he just. This was a new chance at life and even though it's hard he can't lose it all again. 

"I know you're not her. Of course I do." Logan presses his forehead against yours, trying to get you to look at him. 

"You loved her..." You croak out. 

"I did love her. She was my wife. But I love you too. In a different way." He's a different man. Having gone through tremendous loss. It shaped him into who he is now. 

"You're different people. Your powers act differently, you talk differently, you feel different. You are not a replacement." He says firmly. 

When you finally look at him he feels this horrible pit in his stomach. He wipes away your tears but doesn't make any other move. It's not the right time.

"Would you have even given me a second thought? If I didn't look like her?" You ask, that question has haunted you for a while now but you never asked, too afraid of the answer. Logan is silent, unsure of how to answer. 

"When I first saw you it was like a punch in the face." He starts. "For a moment I was 20 years in the past. Then I snapped out of it. You look like her, yes but you’re not her.” He gently traces a small scar on your jaw that you got when you were a child. 

“I’m not the same as your Logan right? He was a leader, a hero and I was an angry drunk murderer.” 

“I’m not gonna start listing all your fucking differences sweetheart, but I swear on my life that I love you for you.” He pulls you into a tight hug as you start to cry again. You cling onto him as tight as you can. The bad thoughts don’t just stop, even if you want them to but Logans whispering sweet words in your ear. Pushing out every bad thought for now.

“Logan,” You take a deep breath, letting Logan invade all your senses. Tobacco and whiskey. 

“I need you.” He’s hesitant, not sure if it’s the right time.

“Please, I just need you.”

“Okay sweetheart, you have me.” He slowly rolls you over and lays you on your back.

He captures your lips into a kiss. His hips rolling slowly making you moan softly. His lips drift from your lips to the corner of your mouth to your cheek, trailing down. Each one so gentle, so full of love.

“You have this spot, righttt here.” Logan nibbles on your neck and you gasp when bites right at this spot that drives you wild. You melt into the mattress as he kisses over it.

“Always makes you relax.” He crawls lower, kissing down your body. He sits up on his knees and grabs a pillow to place under your back.

“I know you like to be slightly elevated because it means I can go just a little deeper.” He purrs as he takes his cock in his hands and gently rubs the tip of it along your folds. He slides two fingers into your cunt slowly.

“Know that my fingers drive you absolutely wild, that you need me to go slow to start.” You nod absentmindedly.

You never realized he picked up on all these things. His fingers start to slide in smoother, your cunt getting wetter for him. He leans down and takes a deep breath, groaning at the scent. He slips them out and licks them clean.

“Relax sweetheart,” He spreads your thighs and slips in all the way. Going slow but unrelenting, stretching you just how you like.

“So impatient, you never let me take it easy on you right? Just wanna be full all the time.” He leans down on his elbows as he rolls his hips nice and slow.

There will be no rough sex this time, this is about love. To show you that he truly does love you for you.

“Look at me,” He tilts your head so that your eyes meet. He smiles at the desperate look on your face.

“You can pretend it makes you all embarrassed, but I know you like eye contact.” He hums as he angles his hips so that he hits that perfect spot.

You jolt as pleasure rocks through your whole body but he keeps you under him. He’s slowly and methodically tearing you apart. Every touch, every word out of his mouth just makes it better. He knows. Of course he does.

“I love you Logan.” Your hands cup his face as you stare into his hazel eyes.

This time not filled with lust, but with a true deep love. He looks at you like you’re everything.

“I love you too.” He kisses you as he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts. He smirks as he feels you start to squirm under him. You could never help it when you were close.

“Come on sweetheart, just let go.” He whispers in your ear.

His deep voice paired with the unrelenting feeling of his cock is all it takes. He holds you in his firm arms as a warm and wonderful tingling sensation runs through your whole body. A blissful smile on your face as you tilt your head back.

You feel your whole body relax as your mind calms. Logan tries to hide his growls as he fucks into you a little faster, until he’s coming hard and deep inside of you. He sighs in contentment as he stays inside of you. He taps your cheek lightly and you look up at him.

“I love you. No one else. Just you.” He moves to pull out but you whine. You need to be close to him right now. He chuckles as he slowly moves to your side. Spooning you tightly with his cock still deep inside of you.

“Can we talk?” You ask shyly.

“About what?” Logan grunts as he pulls you as close as he can get you.

“Anything?” He’s not much of a talker so he asks the questions instead.

How did you discover your powers? How did you meet wade? Just anything and everything and you tell him.

You talk for who knows how long. Staying wrapped in each other's arms. It helps, it really does. Logan listens, he really does listen. He wants to get to know you. He loves you. You rest your head on his chest, tracing shapes into his palm as you talk.

For the first time in a while your mind seems to settle. Ignoring any thought that may try and ruin your mood. It’s just you and him right now. There’s no looming figure of your alternate selves, not anymore.

Just you and Logan. Forever.

[hypnagogics]

currently thinking about edging sub!ellie...so...whoops

"hnnn- fuckfuckfuck baby, please." she'd whine into your ear, clawing wherever she could reach on you, scratching up your shoulder blades, digging into your waist. as soon as you feel the familiar flutters of her pussy around your skillful fingers, you'd pull away with a smirk, watching her gleefully.

you slow your movements until there's only a stationary pad of your finger resting on her pulsing clit. you stare down at her as she's gasping and bordering on tearing up, face all red and hair disheveled. auburn strands a stark contrast from the white pillow she's laid upon.

she'd try to squirm around to make you continue touching her, but you don't comply. frustrated huffs and grunts fall from her lips as her bare chest heaves up and down with desperation.

"hmmm?" you'd coo at her, voice sweet on the surface, but laced with a patronizing taunt.

she'd sigh, muster up her remaining energy and throw a deathly glare at you, sharp enough to kill a man painlessly. unfortunately for her it only amuses you further, and you bite back a sneer.

eyebrows scrunched together with her gaze not leaving yours, she sputters through a clenched jaw, "i'm gonna kill you." you can't help but chuckle at the threat. you know she doesn't mean it, it was always funny when she got feisty.

"oh you don't wanna do that, no one fucks you as good as i do, baby." you finish your rebuttal by re-inserting two fingers into her weeping pussy once more, curling skyward until you hit the spot that breaks her.

within moments her back is arching into you and eyes squeezing shut, a symphony of melodic moans and whimpers flooding the room.

"yeah, that's what you wanted?" you tease, but it's ignored. you'll allow it this time. pumping in and out of her, you can tell she's getting close again, and the thought to rip it away from her yet again crosses your mind, but you've lost count at this point.

she's gripping onto your other arm as if her life depended on it, holding on so hard you swear you'll lose feeling in it.

never letting up your pace her whines increase in volume and frequency, her pussy swallowing up your digits with ease.

you're entranced by her, she's done so well you'll let her cum, finally. she's earned it.

"pleaseplease, yes, ah-" incoherent strings of pleas and delicious begs escape her, you watch as her toned abs flex and cave in as the feeling begins to build for her.

"that's it, c'mon." you mumble a praise, which acts as the gateway for her to let go and succumb to the release enveloping her.

steadily working her through it, thumb rolling over her clit and fingers milking the orgasm out of her until it becomes too much.

she's breathing deeply once it's passed and seems finally at peace after so long, so much denial. you lay on top of her, peppering open-mouthed kisses against the side of her neck, running your hands over her waist.

"you're so mean." she mumbles, her voice taken on a drowsy aura from the exertion.

"i know. but you love it."

"i do."

um HELLO the fuck idk what came over me needed to get this outta my system ig LMAO literally typed this in like 10 minutes in the app bye

[themultifanshipper]

hiiii! i absolutely love your writing- could you maybe write something with oscar and logan x reader with reader and logan in subspace while oscar talks them through getting each other off? thanks so much!

also, could i be the ♥️ anon for your page?

It had been a tough week for all of you. You’d gotten a lot of hate in the media for seemingly dating two drivers, Logan was trying to piece together what was left of his career, and Oscar had a McLaren civil war of sorts to deal with.

But Oscar knew just how to give you all the perfect distraction.

Of course you can be ♥️ anon!

Warnings: smut, PinV, Sub Logan and Sub reader, Dom Oscar, slight subspace, facials and cum stuff (for a change lmao), edging

It had been hours (it had realistically only been about 30 minutes, but it felt like hours).

Your mind was starting to get fuzzy around the edges, and your body burned with the need for release.

Logan wasn't much better off.

He was writhing in your arms as he humped you relentlessly, the friction on your barely clothed core was driving you both insane.

You had long since soaked through your pathetic excuse for underwear and Logan's never ending river of precum definitely contributed to the wet slide of your bodies.

The two of you were completely lost in each other, chasing your pleasure as your minds floated serenely.

You were so close you could taste it. Just a bit more, just a couple more strokes and...

“Stop”

The order came loud and clear and the two of you wailed as you were forced to separate once again, the cool air against you making you shiver.

Logan heaved in a breath against your neck as Oscar held his hips firmly in place so that he couldn't rut his hips into you like he so badly wanted.

Fresh tears followed the tracks on your cheeks as you sobbed, clinging onto each other for dear life.

“please, Oscar” Logan cried out.

“S'too much!” you gasped.

Oscar just stroked your faces as you both calmed down enough to be able to hear his next instructions.

“You've both been so good for me, you deserve to come now.”

He helped you take your underwear off and lined Logan's cock with your sopping wet entrance.

“Go on Logan, you can fuck her, but she needs to come first, yeah?”

Logan panted like a dog as he entered you swiftly and immediately started slamming his hips against your like a man possessed. Oscar took mercy on you both and slipped a hand between your bodies to help get you off, by rubbing harsh circles into your clit.

You yelped and Oscar laughed at your fucked out state.

“Go on then baby, you were so desperate to come, now come on Logan's cock like a good girl.”

It didn't take more than a couple more thrusts for you to tumble over the edge, taking Logan with you as you panted and whimpered into each other’s mouths.

Once you were both properly sated after a few orgasms, Oscar sat at the edge of the bed and ordered the two of you to kneel in front of him.

He pulled his cock out and hissed, the tip angry and red at being neglected for so long.

“I'm not going to last long, my loves.” He started fisting his cock hard and fast “who wants my cum?”

You and Logan both whined and leaned in closer, cheeks touching and tongues out for Oscar.

The older man groaned and sped up his hand, so close to the edge already.

“You both want it?”

You and Logan nodded, eyes shining up at Oscar.

“So pretty for me on your knees, so good, fuck- shit!”

He came in spurts all over your joined faces, some of it landing on your tongue and you hummed at the taste.

Once Oscar was properly finished, Logan twisted his head and kissed you, sloppily making out with you and spreading Oscar's cum all over your faces.

“God... you two are gonna be the death of me” he groaned as he watched you hungrily.

Once you'd all cleaned up in the shower and crawled into bed together, you all felt at peace for the first time a while.

Their bodies were warm against yours, and you all fell asleep like that, wrapped up in each others arms.

It was all going to be okay.

[saltpepperbeard]

OBLIGATORY COMPLETE OFMD SEASON 2 TEASER THOUGHTS AND SPECULATION POST™

Okay, to start off, I cannot BELIEVE we got this. I cannot BELIEVE we got a voiceover of Stede's note to Ed. We were all thinking it. We were all hoping for it. I CANNOT BELIEVE WE LEGITIMATELY GOT TO SEE AND HEAR HIS LOVE RIGHT OFF THE BAT. HE LOVES HIS ED SO SO MUCH.

Followed by this shot right as Stede is narrating. It's difficult to tell, but it seems like Ed??? The one-armed jacket and the fact that it's layered with Stede's narration makes me quite certain it's him. But ALONE??? AND COMING OUT OF THE SURF??? (There's a shot later that has me PARTICULARLY raising eyebrows at this moment. I'm thinking that he fell off the boat/was lost in that one storm shown later, and Stede of course is going to dive in after him or attempt to get to him in some sort of dramatic way. Which makes me think he and Stede are going to potentially talk feelings/reconcile on the beach)

And the fight choreography of this. Are you actually kidding me right now. ARE YOU KIDDING ME. GETTING TO SEE ED ABSOLUTELY KICKING ASS IN COMBAT??? NEVER IN A THOUSAND YEARS DID I EXPECT TO SEE A SHOT LIKE THIS BUT I'M HOLLERING SO HARD OVER IT (NOT TO MENTION, AGAIN, LOOKING AT THIS AND A LATER SHOT..........I'LL SCREAM ABOUT MY THOUGHTS WHEN SAID SHOT APPEARS HSKDLS)

Oh, they're PINING pining. They're YEARNING yearning. They're GAY gay.

They want to be back with each other so so so bad I'm losing my mind <3

"Fuck you, Stede Bonnet." The way he's JUST as dramatic as we were all thinking. The way he's hurting in a way WE ALL ANTICIPATED. LIKE, YOU HATE TO SEE IT, BUT MAN DSJKLDSSDKL. Also, the contrast of him saying that vs Stede's voice over is so so insane. The editors are INSANE FOR THAT ONE.

AGAIN, GOING BONKERS OVER ED'S CHARACTERIZATION BECAUSE HE SEEMS EXACTLY HOW I ANTICIPATED. Outwardly, angry, hardened, and cold. Inwardly, heartbroken, desperate, and wanting nothing more than to be back with Stede. Because hello, HELLO, HE'S NOTCHED WHAT I ASSUME TO BE HIS NUMBER OF DAYS WITHOUT STEDE IN THE WALL??????

HI OLU HELLO OLU MY DEAR DARLING OLU

but also screaming and crying and throwing up because this is ALSO what i was anticipating/hoping for. the crew being like "ummmmm lmao captain?? you really think you've got this under control???"

"You think Blackbeard's going to murder you?" I THINK NOT BECAUSE WHAT IS HE EVEN SHOOTING AT JSLDKS. OFF TO THE SIDE??? A WARNING SHOT????? Also the lighting of this and his look matches the ending shot so I'm very eyes emoji at this entire thing.

HOWEVER...

"MURDERER THRICE OVER?????????????"

Like sorry, that sign won't stop me because I can't read. Look at him. LOOK at him. You're telling me he stole the wedding cake toppers so he could PAINT HIMSELF ON THE BRIDE??? SO HE COULD MAKE HIMSELF INTO THE BEAUTIFUL BRIDE HE WANTS TO BE????? SO THAT HE COULD PLAY PRETEND MARRIAGE BETWEEN HIMSELF AND STEDE???????

INSANE!!!

INSANE FOR THIS!!!!!!

Again, bonkers editing. The split screen. The CONTRAST between Stede's hopefulness and Ed's depression. The WAY THEY LINED IT UP TO MAKE ED LOOK LIKE HE'S TAKING AIM AT STEDE. THE WAY THIS PROBABLY PERFECTLY ENCAPSULATES THEIR CHARACTERIZATION IN THE FIRST FEW EPISODES HSDJKLSDS LIKE BITING THE EDITORS BITING THEM BITING THEM

ALSO ED AND ALL OF HIS GUNS,,, NINE GUNS???????

It kills me because he's probably being exactly what he thinks people see him as. He's probably like "Oh, you want a monster? I'll give you a monster."

WHICH,,,, NO, HONEY. YOU'RE A SWEETHEART, SORRY ABOUT IT.

AND THEN LOOK AT THEM. LOOK AT OUR DARLINGS!!! FANG'S FUCKING SPIKES ARE SO METAL. FRENCHIE'S WOLVERINE COSPLAY SHDJKLSHDLKS. JIM!!! JIM JIM MY BELOVED JIM, AND THEIR PAINTED BEARD. THEIR GENDER!!!!!!!

Honey hsdksjds the drama of it all. THE DRAMA. CRASHING WEDDINGS TO DISRUPT LOVE BECAUSE YOUR OWN WAS DISRUPTED??? SIIIIIIRRRR THE THEATRICS, THE SPICE OF IT ALL

excuse me ma'am that is a gay man shdkjshkls THAT IS A GAY MAN. WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING,,,

kiss me instead like wtf

OKAY NOW THIS,,,

THIS.

PRESIDENTIAL ALERT: THE BABYGIRL IS FIGHHHTTTTIIIING

BUT IZZY WATCHING ON??? IZZY????????????

I have Genuine Thoughts™ about this. I have a feeling that the big arc/character development Con mentioned might pertain to him like, REALIZING what's important, and what Ed actually wants and needs. And a good chunk of that will be him realizing the consequences of his actions, and maybe potentially wanting to undo the damage. And also, in his Bitchy Izzy Ways™, he might also get very very tired of Ed's sulking/theatrics and want to rectify things for that reason too.

So I feel like he's going to sort of team up with Stede and show him the ropes for that reason?? So they ALL can work towards betterment???

WHICH IS NUTS LMAO. NEVER EVER EXPECTED THAT.

REGARDLESS, GO STEDE BABY GO!!!

HI REVENGE HELLO REVENGE PLEASE DON'T DO ANYTHING DRASTIC LIKE EXPLODE OR ANYTHING PLEASE BABYGIRL <3

yeah yeah the titties we've all seen them.

BUT AGAIN, AGAIN, STEDE OFF TO THE SIDE. STEDE WATCHING. STEDE LEARNING THE ROPES FROM THE MOST UNEXPECTED PERSON EVER SHDJKSDS LIKE WHAT!!!

AND HEEEEEEERE WE GO. HERE'S THE SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER.

THE SAME BLACK SAND BEACH. FIGHTING THE BRITISH. ED AND STEDE. ED WITHOUT HIS MAKEUP ON. STEDE IN A DIFFERENT OUTFIT.

ARE THEY BOTH,,, FIGHTING TO GET TO EACH OTHER??? FIGHTING THROUGH CROWDS AND ENEMIES TO GET TO EACH OTHER'S SIDES???????

WHAT IF THEY FIGHT TO EACH OTHER AND THEN KISS HUH???

WHAT THEN.

HIIIIIIYYYAAAA JACKIE <33333

ALSO HELLO IS THAT THE SWEDE BEHIND HER???????

EXPLOSIONS FIRE EXPLOSIONS EXPLOSIONS FEELING VERY WEE JOHN CODED RIGHT NOW!!!!!!

AND THIS IS YET ANOTHER SHOT I WAS REFERRING TO EARLIER,,,

LIKE UHHHHHHHHHHHHH

WITH ED ON THE BEACH, AND THIS SHOT OF SOMEONE FALLING INTO THE WATER,,,,,,

I HAVE A FEELING THAT ED IS GOING TO DO SOMETHING THAT ENDS WITH HIM FALLING OFF THE BOAT. MAYBE HE TRIES TO SAVE SOMEONE???

if he fights to save stede from going overboard or something equivalent i'm going to eat all the tiles off my floor <3

LIKE IT'S BAD BESTIES. IT'S BAD. IT'S DIRE. THE WATER IS SO FUCKING HIGH AND THEY'RE IN A STORM AND JIM IS SCREAMING AND I AM ALSO SCREAMING!!!

But then also, LOOK AT FUCKING WEE JOHN!!! IN DRAG!!! HE'S A FUCKING MERMAID!!! JIM ISN'T A MERMAID???? WELL, THAT'S FINE--WEE JOHN IS!!! LIVING HIS BEST FUCKING LIFE!!!!! AND WHAT IF HE MADE THAT COSTUME HIMSELF SJDKSDJLS <3

AND THE FINAL SHOT I'M CHOOSING, THE FINAL ONE OF THE SET,,, MATCHES UP WITH THAT LIGHTING EARLIER.

WHO ARE WE FIGHTING, ED BABE. WHAT'S THE TEA. WHO ARE YOU CLOBBERING.

IS IT US?

IT'S PROBABLY US.

BECAUSE THIS ENTIRE THING HAS ME SO SO SO DEAD Y'ALL

[charles-eclair16]

The Horrific Rumours

0.3 (part 2)

~The one where he clears the break up rumours~

Charles_leclerc

Liked by your_username, carlossainz55, your_bestfriend and 69.7k others

📍your_username

Charles_leclerc: Mon amour❤️

Ps- I would really appreciate it if people would refrain from sharing such rumours about my personal life. We are very much together and happy.

Comments:-

↪️Username06: he really said what breakup

↪️Ferrarigirl: a perfect fuck you to the rumours

Ynfan09: they're so cute together

Ynfangirl: yes tell them charles

Your_username: Mon bébé😘

↪️Charles_leclerc: only yours😘❤️

↪️Pierregasly: yeah yeah we know that you're together no need to show off

↪️Charles_leclerc: you're the one to talk?!

↪️Carlossainz55: yeah mate I've had enough of you kissing her in front of me to last a lifetime

Danielriccardo: I almost thought you've lost your mind after reading the rumours mate

↪️Charles_leclerc: nice to see you believe in me Daniel

Landonorris: shit I got my hopes up...I thought no more watching you guys be disgustingly in love

↪️Username06 LANDO?!

↪️Username05 umm what

↪️Charles_leclerc: don't even think about it Lando

Charlesfan05:" I don't plan to ever break up with her" if it's not love then I don't know what is

Pierregasly: Apart from jokes please don't spread rumours I almost had a heart attack

↪️Likedbygasly: Lmao

↪️Pierregasly: I don't know what I would've done if he started crying mid interview

↪️Ynfan09: probably start crying with him

Astonmytin: man is in love

Joris_trouche: I can't believe people thought you broke up when all you do is lock lips together

↪️Username: joris airing charles secrets

↪️Carlossainz55: don't forget the phone calls every other hour

↪️Landonorris: or how he whines about missing her every damn time

↪️Maxverstappen1: I'm pretty sure I know everything about her, all because he can't stop talking about it

Redbullfan05: not the others exposing charles💀

Username06:Lmao the whole grid was worried💀

Arthur_leclerc: I was on the verge of crying like I can lose Charles but I can't lose my partner in crime

↪️Randomfangirl: Arthur💀

↪️Charles_leclerc: wow okay I'm not offended at all

↪️Ferrarigirl: Arthur really said he would rather lose his own brother then his girlfriend😭

↪️Smooth_operator: he's whipped

Georgerusselfan: I love how the whole grid was worried that they broke up

Your_username

Liked by Charles_leclerc, pierregasly, carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc and 86.9k others

📍charles_leclerc

Your_username: "You are the best thing that's ever been mine". I love you❤️

comments:-

Charles_leclerc: I love you too baby 😘

Your_bestfriend: you're cute and all but please stop kissing in front of me

↪️Your_username: we don't always kiss?!

↪️francisca.cgomes: you kind of do babe

↪️your_username: kika?! Not you too

Youfan15: I want what they have

Lilymhe: What do you mean I'm not the best thing that's ever happened to you

↪️Alexalbon: Lily?!

↪️Charles_leclerc: cry about it

↪️Your_username: you're one of my favourite people lily❤️

↪️Charles_leclerc: but I'm the best right?

↪️Fangirl16: I love their banter

Ynfan09: not Taylor swift lyrics

Charlosgirl: which God did to pray to?

Arthur_leclerc: please don't leave me alone with him

↪️Randomfan02: he's your brother💀

↪️Your_username: you've been living with him since you were born??

↪️Arthur_leclerc: yeah exactly

Likedbygasly: Charles really went and took my wife

Pierregasly: Please don't scare me like that

↪️Username06: Lmao Pierre was really going through it

↪️Username08: man was stressed

[vaguely-concerned]

:) :) :) hey. hey I'm scrEAMING.

Rook: You know... I think I knew the truth. Deep down. But I couldn't face it. (Varric: Why not?) Because it would mean admitting that I let you die.

Bellara: Maybe when I do, I'll feel it. (Rook: Feel what?) That he forgives me. And that I deserve it.

while we're on the subject of 'stuff that's completely recontextualized once you've played the whole game and that's driving me absolutely bugnuts insane on the replay'... hhhhhow about this scene, huh. I reacted the first time around to just how emotional rook's voice gets in this part (listen to that 'you lost someone important') -- her story is very sad, don't get me wrong, but it's early on in their relationship and it seemed so intense of him out of nowhere. and uh. well now I get it. and it breaks my fucking heart. who do you think rook is really talking to here? just as much as they're talking to bellara? just as much as she is speaking to something in them they cannot face yet, negative space grief you see everywhere around rook in this game when you come back around and understand what you're looking at. they're talking to each other, but each of them is also talking to themselves. all the scenes where Rook is guiding their companions through grief and loss... and winding through, over, under, all those conversations, a separate conversation Rook cannot have yet. because they don't know. they can't bring themselves to know it yet. but it's still here the entire time, leaking into everything like blood or ink into water. it haunts them every step of the way, and no one, least of all them, can see it.

It's not your fault. You have to know that./Then why does it feel like it was? You could switch that dialogue around between them after the regret prison and it would work exactly the same way. Two people talking with one voice of grief, of guilt, of 'he's gone and it's all my fault, I wasn't good enough. I wasn't good enough when it really counted' and not knowing it. I'm kind of speechless at how elegantly it comes together now that I know to look for it, and how much meaning it suddenly adds. It really is so FUCKING good. this game is so good, when you pay attention and start to understand what it's actually doing.

But if you don't learn to get past it, you'll drown. well, rook. you'd know lmao. it really is all

I was much further out than you thought    And not waving but drowning.

up in here in this lighthouse tonight

This convinced me irrevocably that Rook truly did know the whole time, deep down. it's right below the surface of their mind that whole time, kept from them both deliberately by solas and helplessly by their own brain trying to shield them from the pain. that whole time!!! and you can actually track it through the conversations they're having and see all the signs along the way, once you realize it

And now he's gone. Because I wasn't good enough. So I try to make up for it. Honor him. Find the truth. and maybe shared grief doesn't always make for half the sorrow. but it's something. and it's so much more than nothing.

[kwamiwayzz]

I've been sick in bed all week and decided to watch the pilot so my impressions so far. I'd say spoilers ahead, but who's actually watching out for those for this:

Animation is okay, don't expect KyoAni or Mappa obviously. I can't really say for sure if the "bad and sloppy" art style is completely intended but when you have shots like this

...it kinda screams low quality, low effort

Much of the pilot plot is dumb stuff like the actual games. Nicole is trying to find money to buy this Avril Lavigne belt from Emily and she goes from offering to wash Jecka's car, thinking about doing caricatures for money (Jecka says she can't draw), selling crushed up aspirin and pretend it's cocaine, and she even took the dough from a random pizza place to sell figures while passing it off as "genuine Italian crafts".

Jecka tells her to get a job like usual.

Ari works at Hot Topic and being tortured as usual, but she gets somewhat of a win towards the end of the episode.

We literally see Ari cutting herself out of frustration because of her shitty job.

The rest of the pilot is just going from here to there to what you'd expect if you've played the games. It's not amazing, and I do think the voice acting is still good, but I don't think it translated out super well in an anime-setting.

I did enjoy some parts like...Jeckole

Based on this shot where they're watching TV, it looks like Nicole might be spending time at Jecka's house, despite the second game having her try to keep her away from her pervy dad.

Oh damn, Nicole selling out Jecka for her own gain just so she could get the belt Emily was selling? Then telling Ari she'll get over it? Well, we'll see...

So, you gonna apologize or what?

Trying to fix it by letting Jecka wear the belt every other day? Also, she looks like a lost puppy here lmao.

But similar to that one part in Re-Up, Nicole can win Jecka's favor back again by throwing Jeffery under the bus.

Did Nicole fucking kill Jeffery?? ToT

I guess that's what it takes to win Jecka back bye asdfaklfgkjalskd

Anyway, my overall thoughts on this pilot. It's fine for what it is. Keep your expectations similar to the games, because it's not like there's going to be anything mind-blowing. I'm mostly here for the voice acting, Nicole and Jecka, the rest of the cast, and the dumb stuff.

Out of everything, I think I really enjoyed the dumb dialogue among all the characters. They're just acting like typical (possibly exaggerated) white teenagers in that setting by getting into goofy scenarios and if the rest of the anime is like this, I might actually consider staying for the rest of its run.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Summary: When Conrad Fisher catches his secret girlfriend masturbating, he loses his mind.

Genre: SMUT (NSFM)

Warnings: porn with basically no plot, virgin!reader, unprotected sex, fingering, use of the word slut, tasting your own juices lmao? praise, semi-innocence kink, caught masturbaring, swearing, nipple play

You place your hand into your panties, head leaning against your headboard, and bite your lip as you gently rub your clit. Your eyes shut and you moan, your hand movements quickening as you think of him.

The one boy you aren't supposed to date.

"Conrad," You whisper out, your other hand squeezing the pillow behind you as you arch your back. "Oh," You whimper, lost in the pleasure.

"Holy shit." You hear through the haze in your mind and suddenly your blood runs cold. You don't recognize the voice as you sit up instantly, hands leaving your panties to cover your exposed chest.

"Conrad." You say, half-relieved and half-mortified to see it's your boyfriend.

Conrad is standing in your doorway, cheeks pink, and through his boxers his boner is painfully obvious. His eyes are immediately on your chest, then your panties, and finally your face.

Conrad smirks, "Whatcha doing there, Y/n/n?"

You don't know how to answer him so you can only squirming your hips. Your heart pounds.

You've only been dating for around a month and you've never gone anything more than heated kisses. But, as Conrad grins and closes the door behind him, you can feel something shift in the air, "Has anyone ever touched you?" He taunts.

You stare at him with wide, embarrassed eyes and shake your head no. Conrad's blue eyes pierce into yours and he asks, "Can I?"

You feel like you're dreaming as you nod. Conrad laughs, "I need your words, baby." He almost mocks and for some reason, his tone turns you on.

"Y-Yes, please." You whisper and you can't prevent the needy ache from returning to your middle. Conrad smiles knowingly and makes his way over to you. You shrink down, hands still covering your naked chest, as he hovers over you.

His smile turns sweet. "So polite." He says and leans down, lips skimming yours. You chase his touch but he pulls away. He teases you like this a while, kissing every inch of your face but your lips.

"Connie." You whine breathlessly and finally he kisses you. His lips are warm and you feel like your skin is burning. Your hands cup his cheeks, exposing your breasts and Conrad starts kissing down your neck.

You moan when he starts to kiss the skin in between your breasts. Conrad looks up at you, eyes shimmering as if he's silently asking for consent to touch them.

You nod and in a blur his mouth is around your nipple. You squirm and make a small shriek of pleasure. "Y/n." Conrad whispers, kissing your breast, "Don't make so much noise, okay? We don't want anyone finding out about us." He demands, breath warm against your skin.

"Okay." You answer and bite your lip as Conrad sucks on your nipples. You squirm, bucking your hips and when the movement inevitably causes your pussy to hit his knee, you moan out.

"Do you like that?" Conrad asks, pressing his knee into your middle and you gasp loudly, "Oh, you do, don’t you?" He laughs. He does it again, harder this time and your hand suddenly grips his arm.

"Conrad." You plead, eyes staring into his, "Fuck me." His eyes round and yours do too. You stare at him, mouth ajar, as you pant heavily. You think your heart could burst out of your chest at any moment.

Conrad smiles and moves to sit on his heels as his hand traces down your stomach to the hem of your panties, "Please." You say and you take his hand and quickly move it under your panties. You shut your eyes in pleasure as Conrad laughs deeply and collects some of your arousal on his fingers.

"You're so wet, Y/n." He announces and you groan, "Dirty fucking girl." He smirks and pushes two fingers into you. He curls them and begins to move them in and out, watching you unravel, until you're a shaking mess.

"I'm gonna come!" You moan out as his thumb rubs your clit. Conrad suddenly stops and pulls his hand away. You groan and buck your hips, hoping to chase your anticipated high.

"Who would have guessed that Y/n Y/l/n is such a slut." He taunts playfully and lightly hits your clit, causing you to squeal, "What did I say about being quiet? Can't have anyone else finding you like this, can we?"

You shake your head. Conrad hums and pulls your panties down your hips. He tosses them to the side and spreads your thighs. Because you're naked and he's covered, you whine, "I want to see you, please."

He ignores you for a moment, eyes focused on your pussy, "So pretty," He mutters and then looks at you. You're pouting and he grins, "Patience." He chastises as he pulls his shirt over his head and discards it next to your panties.

Your pussy throbs seeing how toned he is and you desperately want to come.

"Conrad fuck me. I'm ready." You say.

"I know you are," Conrad smirks, pushing his fingers into you again and when they come out, they're covered in your juices. He leans forward and stuffs them into your mouth.

You swirl your tongue around them, tasting yourself, and the sight makes Conrad's cock tighten in his boxers.

"You're so beautiful." He compliments and starts to remove his boxers. Your eyes widen as he pumps his hand across his cock, "Such a needy thing."

You gasp when he leans in, one hand pressed against the headboard as he uses the other to line himself up with your pussy. You shudder at the feeling.

"You okay, pretty girl?" He asks gently.

You nod, holding onto his arms for support, "Please, Conrad." You plead one last time until he finally pushes himself into you. He's gentle with you as he shuts his eyes and curses under his breath.

You feel incredibly full but after a moment you realize this didn't hurt as much as everyone warned you it would. Conrad's touch feels gentle and kind, even when he starts fucking the daylights out of you.

You moan as he hits a particularly sensitive area and his hands cover your mouth instantly. You stare at him as his hair, damp and messy, dangles in front of his blue eyes.

Conrad continues his harsh thrusts, his hand still covering your mouth as he's too immersed in how warm you feel around his dick to loosen his grip,

"Quiet, Y/n. You can't wake anyone, remember?" He grunts through harsh breaths. He feels you tighten around him and he adds, "Don't come without permission either, pretty girl." You groan.

You nod and when he removes his hand you bite your lip to conceal your sounds of pleasure as your boyfriend continues to fuck you — in your summer childhood room — in his family's house.

It all feels deliciously wrong.

After a little while you mumble, "Can I? Please."

Conrad tightens one fist around the bedsheet, "Yes. I'm close too." He groans and buried his head into the crook of your neck, "Come with me, honey." He whispers sweetly into your ear.

You feel the knot in your stomach loosen and you can't help yourself as you bite Conrad's shoulder to muffle a small scream. It feels like nothing you've ever experienced and your mind is so fuzzy by the end you barely register Conrad pulling out of you.

"Shhh," He whispers as he leans over the bed to grab the tissues and you catches your breath. You squirm when you feel him clean you up.

He kisses your temple as he moves up to hug you, "God, I love you, Y/n." He says and moves your bodies so he's spooning you.

"I love you too, Conrad." You promise.

"Do you need water? Food? I'll sneak downstairs and grab whatever you want from the fridge." He peppers kisses around your neck and you hum.

You hold his arm, "I'm okay. I just want you."

"You have me." He chuckles and this time nuzzles his head into you, "Even if no one can know yet, you have me."

Yet. You smile.

Conrad has always been a private person, plus paired with the rule you'd made with Belly to never date any of the Fisher boys, you'd kept your relationship quiet.

You didn't mind. You wanted time to tell Belly yourself. Still, it was nice knowing Conrad didn't want this secret to last forever.

Because, after all, all the best secrets are the ones that are told.

[kanpaeki]

Can you do where dominic and the reader have an argument and give each other silent treatment even though they really wanna talk to each other but they’re being petty

i changed it a little bit but i hope this is close enough to what you wanted, i got writer's block like 3 times trying to write this lmao

x

“how many times do i have to say i’m sorry? i couldn’t fucking be there, i don’t know what else to say.”  dominic’s fed up by now, clearly done with the conversation if the flushed face and disgruntled expression is anything to show for.

“are you not getting this? that’s not the problem! but you should’ve talked to me!” and just like him, you're beyond frustrated. he's usually more communicative with you but you had an event that you really wanted him to go with you to and he straight up stood you up, no call, no text, no nothing. and you were furious. he didn't want to talk about it, claiming he was just was busy and with friends and lost track of time but you weren't having it. he needed to understand that he couldn't do that.

"i'm not doing this anymore." he abruptly stands up from his chair at the kitchen table and heads towards the doorway to what you assume is his makeshift home studio.

"where are you going?!" you shout, eyebrows furrowed in anger, "you're not doing what anymore?!"

no answer. he's retreating to the studio.

"dominic david fike."

he pauses.

but then he continues. and he's out of your sight within the next second. you hear the door slam.

you groan, running your hands through your hair. you don't think you've ever fought this bad. he was usually better at letting you know where he was or if he was going to be late, you don't understand why he all of a sudden stopped. it didn't make sense. something was weird. but at this rate, you were never going to find out why. you just wanted to talk to him, you don't even understand how it became a screaming match. sighing, you shake your head. maybe some time would be best for you both.

so you continue the day as normal, given there is quite a heavy and dark rain cloud looming over your head for the remainder of the evening, but you try your best. you get your work done, which was a nice distraction but the second you were done, your mind went back to dominic. so you tried to make dinner. you weren't the best cook but he seemed to enjoy it, especially when you make that one dish he really likes. he might even view it as a peace offering.

“dom? babe?” you call out, “dinner’s ready!” you plate the food at the stove, carrying them to the table. you wait for the telltale sound of a door opening and feet slapping the floor. it never comes.

“dom?” your heart starts to deflate. so maybe this issue was bigger than you thought. you stand there beside the table, watching the steam rise from the two plates. trying not to panic, you wring your hands together. maybe he’s just got his headphones on.

you think about texting him for a minute but you decide just to go knock on the door. if he's got headphones on, he probably won't hear his phone anyway. so up the stairs you go, putting your tail between your legs and knocking on the door. "dommy, dinner's ready. if you want to eat." pressing your lips together, you wait for the door to open.

nothing.

yeah, maybe this was worse than you thought. you give it another knock but still, no answer. resting your forehead on the cool wood, you exhale. usually after an argument, some time apart was all he needed. but it seems like this was going to take a little bit more than you anticipated.

"well, i'll be downstairs if you want to talk about it. i'll put your plate in the fridge." with that, you head back downstairs, thoughts racing through your mind. reaching the table, you just sit there. you don't even feel like eating anymore. you just pick at your food with the fork, frustrated more than anything. you know your feelings were valid, if anything, you should be the one giving him the silent treatment. you were willing to put everything behind you. why wasn't he? god, boys are so infuriating.

you stand up and just decide to wrap your plates and put them in the fridge. you didn't have it in you to eat right now and you're sure he'll be down to eat the second you leave the kitchen and shut yourself in the bedroom. and that you do. without even changing into pajamas, you just slide into the sheets in the darkness, left alone with your thoughts. you hated this silence. usually he was singing, showing you what he made, watching a movie with you, you guys even liked to online shop together. you loved his sense of style. you missed his nose. his cute button nose. you don't even realize you're crying until the feeling of something warm and wet on your nose bothers you enough to wipe it away.

you're half asleep when you hear padding around in the kitchen, socks shuffling on the floor and the sounds of the fridge opening. there's a sigh and muttering. more scuffling. and then it gets closer. you pretend to be asleep right as the door opens.

he seems to pause at the door but then there's a weight shift at the end of the bed as he sits on it. you carefully blink your eyes open, looking at him as he sits by your feet. his elbows rest on his knees and his hands are in his hair. you want to speak up, he looks frustrated but you don't know if you trust your voice after having cried yourself to sleep.

he takes a deep breath before he sits up, "i'm sorry." is all he says before he looks at you with an expression you've never really seen before. "i was trippin', i shouldn't shut down like that. i could've moved things around, i could've been there. i know how important it was to you and i'm sorry. it won't happen again."

you take a deep breath before sitting up, facing him. "i'm sorry i lost my temper. i know your schedule gets unpredictable. but you're right, it meant a lot to me." he nods and leans forward, resting his head on your chest. you run your hands through his messy curls.

"i love you." he murmurs into your chest, kissing you through your shirt. "will you eat with me please?" he looks up at you with shiny eyes and you just nod, smoothing the stray hair away from his cheeks.

he stands up first and you grab his hand as he outstretches it, taking his lead as he heads back to the kitchen. rarely did you ever eat without each other. maybe that's why you lost your appetite before. but sitting at the table with him now, smiling as you eat your dinner's together, all feels right again.

[simping-on-the-daily]

Being stuck between Bill and an insane Ford seems like one of the worst places to be. If this is a world where Ford is under Bill’s thumb (willingly or not) then it means weirdmageddon is probably universal, so even if you could run there’s nowhere to go. And Bill is basically a god. So death probably isn’t an option either. Either he get’s bored of you and you end up another body on the pile or you’re just stuck. I can’t fathom that kind of helplessness and despair. (I’m also all for it, yandere’s are a guilt pleasure lol)

no-one is coming out of that throuple a better person everyone is coming out worse!! reader's fucked ford's fucked bill's fucked they're all ruining each others lives they enable their worst qualities,,,

this interpretation of bill ain't killing reader though dw about that lmao,,, reader may be the newest addition but bill does think reader completes them, they're the new mystery trio. if ford is on one end of the line, bill's on the other, meaning reader is the middle, and bill wants to see reader make the middle theirs, to unlock the potential bill knows reader has because she doesn't choose losers, no, she goes after important people!! you can change the world, just like ford has by collapsing the barrier, she knows it because she's bill cipher

they love both ford and reader but he's bill cipher so he expresses that love by forced pet regression and mind control and mutilation and gore and letting the two most important ppl in his life watch the world burn from the penthouse suite, and waiting to get the others so the fam photo can be complete,,,,

the bad ending is ford, reader, bill, the kids, stan and whoever you want as a found family to replace the one bill lost (soos and wendy are on thin ice, but they're still here), laughing over the ashes of a fun world, better world. nothing's wrong with the way an insane reader beats down pup!ford, both of them loving each other so much but your love has been twisted and altered into something destructive. nothing's wrong with how bill devours your guts and uses your eyes to season salad because they'll grow back, you've been blessed. the bad ending is that everyone who sits on the fearamid's throne will ever want to leave

[before-it-felt-like-a-sin]

Need to make out with Natalie to fade into you, like, I’m not letting that travnat breakup claim that song 😡

Like imagine her driving you home from a party and you’re both a little drunk, and you beg her to let you have the aux and she’s like ‘fine fine…’ and you put on that song, and she giggles as you sing along and everything. She then suddenly pulls over just to kiss you, and then that turns to making out… she doesn’t even care that the song is on repeat she’s just so in love :(

(totally wouldn’t mind a mini fic/blurb on this concept…..)

also btw good luck for college!!! you’re gonna do great 💕💕

Fade in to You

Ooooh yes (but I don't condone drunk driving so you're both sober)

Also thank you!! I hope I do lmao <3

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"Nat! Just let me play one song! Just one, I swear, and then we can go back to listening to whatever this shit is," you beg, giving your best puppy eyes. Not that she was paying much attention.

"Fine, okay, whatever. One song. That's it. And my music isn't "shit", by the way." She rolls her eyes, handing her phone out to you. By this point, you've earned the rights to her password, so it's easy to navigate to Spotify and cue up the song you want.

As soon as it starts playing, you begin humming along.

"I wanna hold the hand inside you," you sing softly, reaching out for Nat's hand. You knew it was extremely corny, but you couldn't help it. Not with her.

She rolls her eyes but takes your hand anyways, still keeping her eyes on the road. You keep singing, getting more exaggerated as the song goes on. At this point, you're waiting for her to break and start laughing. What you're not expecting, is for her to pull the car off the road and into a grocery store parking lot.

"Nat-?"

Before you can even finish your sentence, she leans over the center console and kisses you. It's soft and sweet, and after a moment she pulls away to look you in the eyes.

"Fucking idiot," she says, and kisses you again. It starts off like the first, slow and gentle, before she's slipping her tongue into your mouth. It's still sweet, but rougher. More Natalie.

You practically melt, wrapping your arms around the back of her neck as she kisses you. One of her hands cups your cheek as the other one tangles into your hair.

The two of you stay like that for what seems like hours, just lost in each other, until you inevitably have to pull away to breathe.

"So I'm guessing you like my song more than you thought you were going to, huh?"

"Yeah, it was the song that I liked. Nothing else." She buckles back in and starts the car back up before intertwining your fingers again. You just grin stupidly from the passenger seat, and don't make a move to change the song at all.