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#HES A CUNNING LITTLE SHIT
mantisgodsdomain · 5 months
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One of the most vital points of our depiction of Scarlet is the fact that he is, fundamentally, the exact kind of guy who would give himself scurvy from trying to live off of ramen due to cost-efficiency, and also the exact sort of guy to show up to a 8:00 class in a designer outfit that he bought out of all the money he saved living soley off of $1 packs of ramen.
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bylertruther · 2 years
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"there's no basis or case to be made for will having powers" okay then genuinely please explain any of the following now after watching season four:
why does the upside down look like hawkins and is presumably stuck on the day will arrived despite the fact that vecna was there first and has been residing there this whole time? if vecna was capable of reshaping the world, as he's stated he wants to do, why hasn't he done it in his own world? why is he so intent on seeking out the person for whom time apparently stopped if it's all just coincidence? if will didn't do that and he doesn't have powers, then why didn't time progress or the setting change once the teenagers got there? why was time only influenced by will and will alone if he has no powers whatsoever?
how was will able to call joyce multiple times? the only person we've seen so far be able to do something similar is eleven when she would channel what she heard through the radio. electricity doesn't work in the upside down, so how did will do that? why did it cause a shock and ruin the phone, the same way that the radio went up in flames when eleven did it, if he doesn't have powers?
how did he manage to wake joyce up at one point? (it could've been her imagination, but the show made it pretty clear that joyce had been right about everything the entire time even though everyone thought she was crazy, and will was wearing the same outfit but he looked and sounded distressed + exhausted like he may have been while hiding in his upside down version of the house.)
how was will able to see his mother and guide her with the lights to the place he was hiding?
how was will able to see the letters she wrote on the wall?
how was will able to light up the lights that fast and sometimes simultaneously? especially with the lights that were on the ceiling? the way he communicated with joyce isn't totally similar to the way the teens communicated with the party in season four. he's too short to reach the ceiling and he doesn't have elasti-arms or super speed, so he couldn't have been touching that many lights that fast all by himself with his own hands. if anything, it's more similar to the training exercise brenner had the lab kids do, because they didn't need to touch the lights (obviously) to control them. so, how do you explain that if he has no powers?
how did he acquire true sight before his possession? the doctors thought it was ptsd and all in his head, but just like with joyce, we come to learn that will had been right the entire time. the mind flayer was real and it was coming for them all and eventually it did. how did he know that? how could he have had such knowledge before it ever melded minds and bodies with him? no other powerless human could do that, so how do you explain it?
if will is truly a powerless human being, why did vecna hunt him down? we know that vecna stalks his prey before he strikes. we know that "the monster" followed will from mike's house all the way to the shed where they vanished without a trace. we then saw it stalk will again and eventually possess him. will said that vecna wanted to kill everyone else, but not him. why? we know that vecna doesn't care about people. so what did will have that he wanted so bad? what was it about will that made him more valuable to vecna—a self-perceived god among useless, pitiful, and brutish men—alive than dead? what was it about will, a supposed powerless and normal human boy, that made vecna want to spare him and use him? if he wanted access to the lab, weapons, or tools that could bring down entire nations and rendered millions around the globe defenseless to his attack, then he wouldn't have picked a sweet twelve year old boy who lives a tiny little life in a tiny little town who just wants to hang with his friends and play games. unless... he was the key to achieving his plans? but according to this argument that will is just a normal boy, why is it then that vecna did all of that if will isn't capable of anything?
additionally, we know that gates are opened with a psychic connection. when the psychic connection was made in that shed, will entered the upside down. there, he was hunted for a week. why did the demogorgons kill and eat everyone else, but never will? why did they only carry him to the library aka the source of it all? why didn't they treat him roughly or eat him like they did all of the others? will didn't suffer any serious damage from the upside down, so he couldn't have been "dead" for long when his parents found him. why was it different with him? why did he get special treatment even in hell if he's just a boy?
why does will still sense the creatures of the upside down even after he's been exorcised? how is it that the psychic connection is still there? how is he still able to know what vecna is feeling, the kind of state that he's in, and what it is that he's planned? how does he have this connection still even though he shouldn't if he's Just Some Guy?
if will was just a normal, powerless boy... then why did a self-proclaimed god try so hard to recruit him more than once? why did it hunt only him? why did this god want to kill everyone but him? why did this god deem him more worthy and useful in life and at his side than in death? why did it seek him out and not eleven, a girl who actually has powers, powers that were once stronger than his own even and that he clearly wanted as we saw in s3? why is the upside down stuck on the day will went missing, despite it clearly being inhabited by other creatures that we assume to be more powerful than him? why is will going to be central to season five, the season where it will all come to a close and we'll be learning about the upside down and more, if... he's Just Some Guy that had to brave it for a week and that's it? why did season four (and the show overall, but said outright and explicitly here in 4x09) reiterate that it has always been vecna and that will has always been his victim/in his sights/connected to him? why did vecna choose will byers, who some of you claim to be Just Some Boy, of literally all people on planet fucking earth to achieve his plans?
vecna stalked will. he hunted him. and when his plans were foiled, he tried again. when he couldn't do it his way, he sought to kill eleven so that he could absorb her powers (s3). and now, they're back in each other's heads. the silver cat fed when blue met yellow in the west, but they're back now and we've been told that this is only the beginning. if will is just another powerless human, then what is the point of any of that? how do you explain everything that we've seen? how do you explain the choices these characters have made and continue to make? how do you explain away the connection that they keep drawing our eyes to? the connection that shocked the duffers and made them ask jamie if he'd seen the scripts when he brought it up (that it all goes back to will, how everything and everyone is connected to will)? the connection that they themselves are saying we'll see clearly in season five?
that isn't even scratching the surface of all the obvious instances where they make it clear that will is vecna's narrative foil, because that would make this already gargantuan post thirty miles longer.
they wouldn't have done everything that they've done over the span of multiple seasons now if it was just for nothing.
it doesn't make sense if will is just some normal kid and a random fluke in the master plan. the writers could've had vecna pick anyone. they could have made it so that will's connection was severed or lessened, but they didn't. they could've admitted that will was just a meaningless casualty, but they didn't because he wasn't. it wasn't a random animal that took will, he wasn't possessed for shits and giggles, and he doesn't continue to have that psychic connection for no reason. they don't tell us that nothing is a coincidence and they don't have the characters themselves remind us that they need will just for it to be... nothing.
will knows what's coming, what's happening, and the condition of the person who will do it all. why have him experience all of that, and even be able to in the first place, if he's... powerless? how do you even explain the connection in the first place? no other character, not even the ones cursed by vecna, are able to do what he's done. how is that not considered a power? and how do you write off the hours of content that you've witnessed as nothing?
clearly, at some point you have to realize that something is going on, no? like, you don't even have to take my (one-too-many) word(s) for it. jamie and the duffers themselves have been saying it over and over again. so... honestly, what's not clicking?
#like i just genuinely don't get it lol#vecna is a big bad and you think he hunted this tiny nerdy little twelve year old for shits n giggles?#you think the writers are making will a main point in their final season and are saying that we're going to learn so much more about#why the upside down is stuck on the day he went missing just to be like 'oh yeah jk it's nothing LOL'#you think that vecna jus went 'lol sure why not' and picked a child with no connections no powers no nothing just because?!?!#like literally WHAT#VECNA LITERALLY HATES HUMANS HE DOESNT GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THEM SO WHY DID HE NOT WANT TO KILL WILL?!?!?!#why did he value will more than EVERYONE else!?!?!? IF HE'S JUST NORMAL?!?!?!?!#literally explain it to me genuinely bc i don't understand lol this is season five that we're headed into#i didn't think will had powers beyond his beast sense bc we weren't given any indication otherwise#but now that we know there was A Guy planning everything that it wasn't just random chance but A Person who is manipulative and cunning#and deceptive and ambitious and who is behind EVERYTHING THAT WE'VE SEEN SINCE THE VERY BEGINNING#and now that we know how the lights work and that that realm is stuck on the night will went missing and that gates are formed with psychic#connections and that will STILLLLLLLLL knows what he feels etc etc i just . I Just Don't Get It i don't get how you can think#there's nothing there? especially when the creators of the show are telling you he'll be a major focus? IN THEIR LAST SEASON?!#but no im sure its nothing. will did all those inexplicable things and the mastermind big bad chased him and wanted to spare him and use#him for shits and giggles or because the cuteness aggression was too much lol it means Nothing At All obviously#crazy together was in their auditions they Knew what they were going to do with will they're telling us that it MEANS something that the#upside down is STUCK on the day WILL went missing will spent all of season one trying desperately to go home he went to his house and his#castle to hide and joyce said that emotions can make time go really fast or really slow and one day vecna said Enough and stopped the cloc#k himself he created his own powers the duffers TOLD USSSS that it MEANS SOMETHING THAT THE UPSIDE IS STUCK ON THAT DAY#AND THAT WILL IS GOING TO BE A BIG FOCUS AND WE'LL BE GETTING ANSWERS AND THAT WILL AND VECNA HAVE HISTORY#WILL DID EVERYTHING RIGHT TO TRY AND ESCAPE BUT NOTHING WORKED AND THE FOUR VICTIMS IN S4 DID THE SAME THING#THAT WAS VECNA IN THE SHED WILL HAD A CONNECTION WITH HIM BEFORE HE WAS EVER POSSESSED WILL WAS STALKED THE SAME WAY THAT THE VICTIMS WERE#STALKED WILL IS ABLE TO DO THINGS THAT OTHER CHARACTERS CANNOT INCLUDING ELEVEN HE HAS EXPERIENCES THAT ARE ENTIRELY DISTINCT AND HE HAS#VERY SPECIFIC AND OBVIOUS PARALLELS TO VECNA BECAUSE HE IS THE LIGHT WIZARD TO HIS DARK WIZARD#WHAT IS NOT CLICKING !!!! am i missing something. do u think they would do all of that in EVERY SINGLE SEASON for it to mean nothing?#they're going to start and end the show with will but don't worry he's Just Some Guy? bro. duuuuude my GUY !!!!#mine
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ceebit · 1 year
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cat keeps subtly pushing the platonic johnny agenda in my lap like hot soup but i am looking away because i have read too many fics and watched too many edits
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b-rainlet · 1 year
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hello, i sent you dead dove helaegon hcs previously- aegon forcing aemond to participate in their bedding is so brilliant, him exacting that control and power over both his siblings (his influence over aemond obviously seemed to wane after he claimed vhagar) and getting a taste of what it’s like to truly be able to tell people to do whatever you want? yes absolutely. yes!
i think the idea of helaena being such a prize (virgin, targaryen princess, young) would make him more into it than anything else, and the fact that he could use it to force aemond into other things is even better. i think aegon is very smart and very able to pinpoint what makes people tick. him using that to make his siblings his servants? great :)
Anon we are currently holding hands and kissing with tongue.
Aegon realizing that after losing his power over his little brother - after said brother managed to claim a beast of a dragon while Sunfyre is barely big enough for Aegon to fly with him, after his brother lost an eye and inevitably twisted any and every show of power between them into Aegon picking on somebody vulnerable for the hell of it and looking like an asshole doing it, after their nephews tainted their relationship without a second thought and forever indebted Aegon to Aemond by leaving a tangible reminder of Aegon's failures as a big brother, after all of that - he now has a new, shiny little thing he can dangle over Aemond's head, something were Aegon can best Aemond without Aemond's missing eye playing any role whatsoever, a way for Aegon to be mean - cruel even - but without betraying Aemond as his family, does that make sense?
Once again, I believe in Aegon's head, the way he's treating Aemond in this little hc is mostly him trying to connect in the most fucked up way possible.
He's awful and he sees how he's hurting Aemond but he's the one hurting his brother and he's also the one who's murmuring into his hair about how well he did when they're done and Aemond's crying and it's different because that's his little brother and Aegon is the only one allowed to hurt his little brother.
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Rare images : Victor 's stupid little smug face
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cathymee · 7 months
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THIS SHOW GOT ME FUCKED UP BRO 😭
#AUGHHHHH CRYINGGGGG REAL TEARS RN I'M SOBBINGGDHSH#BEATRICE ADOPTING LOUIE!!!!! THE SIBLINGS AND THE CHILDREN TOGETHER VISITING DIANA TOGETHER!!!!!!#BUT FUCKINGH ESPECIALLY KRISTOFF. GOD KRISTOFF. YOU FUCKING TRAGIC MAN YOU#HIM FINALLY LETTING DIANA GO!!!! LITERALLY 'GUMISING KA NA PARA MAPALAYA NA KITA'!!!!!! AAAAAAH?!?!?!?!?!?! INSANE BANGER LINE#HIM WITH ARCHIE!!! THE GUILT HANGING OVER HIM OVER HOW HE TREATED THE BOY!!! THE BOY BEING SO OBLIVIOUS ABOUT KRISTOFF'S GUILT AND#REASSURING HIM AGAIN AND AGAIN ABOUT HOW HE LOVES HIM AND WILL TAKE CARE OF HIM!?!?!??!?!?!?!??!??!?!???!?!#AND WHEN ARCHIE WALKED UP TO NAPOY. AND KRISTOFF JUST LOOKS SO CRUSHED KNOWING THAT NAPOY FINALLY KNOWS. AND HE THOUGHT NAPOY WOULD FINALLY#TAKE ARCHIE AWAY. BUT HE D I D N ' T !!!!!!!!!!!!!!#BECAUSE NAPOY'S ALL ABOUT SECOND CHANCES AND FIXING SHIT NOW. BECAUSE SECOND CHANCES ARE WHAT HIS SIBLINGS NEED!!!!!!!!#SO HE GAVE ARCHIE BACK. AND WHEN KRISTOFF FINALLY RUFFLED ARCHIE'S HAIR IT'S A GESTURE OF GRATITUDE AND A PROMISE TO THE BOTH OF THEM TO DO#BETTER!!! AND WHEN NAPOY RUFFLED KRISTOFF'S HAIR TOO I- WHEN I TELL YOU I BROKE.#they're healing so much and they are healing so good. all bea wanted was to feel a sense of being protected and trusted!! not seen as the#black sheep or a failure!! and now she's here trying her best to only do good - because she's always been good!!! she loves sarah!!#she loves her siblings!!! she can love and care for people!!! she can do good things!!! but she's scared and broken by her father's#indifference and cruelty and by the bad things that she has done before - intentionally or not#and kristoff...god. when napoy ruffled his hair all i saw was a scared sad little boy :(( to be the oldest before napoy came along all the#pressure was on him but was soo belittled and ridiculed for not being the tough cunning man his dad wanted him to be..goddddd#this show destroyed me <33333 goodbye#but one more night let's fucking gooo. what's up with tasha now and who fuckin pulled the plug on diana like 😀✋ hold on#royal blood#rambles
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ghostfacd · 5 months
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KISS AND MAKE UP ; CORIOLANUS SNOW
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summary: when coriolanus and you argue over the sudden closeness between him and lucy gray, all hell breaks loose. but he’s reminded that in the end, it’s you who he chooses, and it’s you that will stay.
warnings: reader and coryo have a toxic relationship (are we surprised?), mentions of cheating (no actual cheating involved), fighting and yelling, some ooc!coryo, descriptions may be inaccurate ‘cause i read the book like 2 years ago 😭
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“I hate you!” You scream, thrashing in Coriolanus’s threshold. “Let go! Let go!”
“Oh stop making a scene, will you?” He growls out, not appreciating your lack of awareness of the eyes that were currently watching. “She’s fine, she’s fine.” He reassures the staring orbs of eyes, “stop it now, Y/N.”
His tone makes you shiver, and you stop trying to kick yourself out of his grip. He smiles contently at this, finally letting you go, but not before shoving his hands into yours. “See, wasn’t that easy?”
“Oh fuck you.” You say, but both you and Coriolanus know that you’ll be back at square one by tonight, kissing and telling him that you love him.
“Thought I'd have to drag you away and shut you up." He mutters, clearly unimpressed with the way you acted earlier. “Maybe get your shit together, L/N.”
“I would if you’d just act like a decent boyfriend for once!” You say, throwing your arms out in the air. “You know what? I don’t care; I don’t care what you do—go get close to your tribute! Go fuck up our relationship for all I care!”
You yank your arm away from his, stomping inside of the Academy with a scowl plastered on your face. Sejanus is only a few steps behind the two of you, and was going to open his mouth to say something when Coriolanus places his index finger in front of him.
“Don’t.” The boy says. “She’s just being dramatic.” He fixes his uniform, a lavish shade of red, as it was crinkled from the way you had tried to escape his hold earlier.
The next time he sees Lucy Gray, he thinks of your little upset pout and face, your yelling ringing in his ear.
Go fuck up our relationship for all I care!
“Are you alright?” Lucy Gray was cautious around Coriolanus, he was unpredictable, and scarily cunning. She had no idea what was even one of the million thoughts that ran through his mind
“I’m.. fine.” Coriolanus says, giving her a meek smile that almost makes her feel sick. Although she had to admit he was fairly handsome and she had somewhat fell for his charm and face, he still scared her regardless.
“Coryo.” Your voice makes Lucy Gray and Coriolanus both look up. You look like a looming dark figure compared to her, towering over. “We should talk later.”
And Lucy Gray watches as Coriolanus’s once emotionless face turns into a sly grin. He nods, not saying much, which was something Lucy Gray had came to learned these past few days after he had first met and given her a rose.
“Snow always falls on top.” Coriolanus whispers underneath his breath, and Lucy Gray doesn’t question it, only continuing what they had been doing earlier.
When the two of you were walking out of the Academy, you placed your hand in Coriolanus’s. It had gotten colder than it had in the morning, and you were freezing under your uniform.
He carefully caresses your hand, looking up to watch as snow slowly fell from the sky.
“So, you’re gonna tell me what you wanted to earlier?” He asks, still looking at the sky.
“I’m sorry Coryo,” you reply meekly, feeling small under his frame. “For causing a scene earlier. I was upset.”
“Upset at me getting close to Lucy Gray?” He questions, now finally glancing down at you.
“Yes! But you can’t blame me Coryo, you don’t see me getting close with my tribute.”
Coriolanus rolls his eyes, the blue orbs bore into yours. “What did I tell you? I would never cheat on you, silly girl. I’m not a monster.”
If only he knew.
You look down, embarrassed that you two were even having this conversation in the first place.
“I know you wouldn’t, which is why I’m apologizing in the first place.”
The two of you stop abruptly, your eyes reaching his despite the obvious height difference.
“I love you, okay?” Coriolanus breathes out, you can even see his breath, the temperature dropping even lower than it was before.
And although you don’t know the extent to which exactly the words coming out of his mouth are even true, you still go on your tippy toes, shivering as you give your boyfriend a kiss on the lips.
“There’s my smiling girl,” he says as he watches your eyes twinkle. “Now let’s go, I have some ideas of ways to warm you up.”
That night, snow truly, did fall on top.
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18ls · 1 month
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MAX VERSTAPPEN / REQUEST — hard-launching you’re married to him.
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you can tell max is onto something when you walk into the paddock, he's been your boyfriend for several years now. and yeah, the relationship is a secret but you have a job in the paddock so it’s not like you don’t look his way longingly when he’s racing.
you’re a journalist for sky sports, so your name it’s quite known on the sport. always so cunning, asking the right questions, the drivers couldn’t even hate you, you were always a step ahead.
so walking down the paddock talking to your coworker, you see max walking the opposite direction of you, you lock gazes and he grins at you, a cat-like grin, and it downs on you when he passes next to you.
“hi.” he extend his hand to shake yours, your coworker looks at you funny because why max verstappen it’s trying to shake your hand in the middle of the paddock? you take his hand, giving him a confused look when you feel what’s in his hand.
your eyes widened, giving him a alarmed look as you take the ring he bought for you a year ago when you two got engaged. he grins at you again, giving you a look, you shake your head. “now? really?” he nods and walks away, talking to his pr.
your coworker stares at you, confused. “what was that?”
you look at the ring in your hand, and you hear your coworker gasp as you put it in your finger. “y/n? what’s going on?”
you can’t believe max, sneaking your wedding ring into the paddock just to jumpscare you with it in the middle of it.
“is that what i think it is.” she says, you give her an amused look, nodding.
“little shit he is.”
you see him after the quali session, he’s on the media circle talking to another journalist when he makes eye contact with you. he raises an eyebrow and looks back at the journalist who’s asking him about the ring in his hand. he unashamedly raises his hand to the camera and shows off the ring on his finger.
“yeah, married, you didn’t noticed?” he taunts the journalist, a playful grin on his face.
little shit.
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bits-and-babs · 6 months
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✦ 𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐍 ✦
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simon 'ghost' riley x f!reader (delta) | smut, 18+ | 4.1k
summary: you, soap and gaz make a silly bet at ghost's expense for an invaluable prize.
cw: mw3 spoiler free. 141 ridiculousness, humour, attempts to remove the mask resulting in life threatening (not really) injury, mild exhibitionism if you squint, very talkative ghost, 'interrogation' wink wink, unprotected p in v sex, reference to f receiving oral.
ghost mlist | main mlist | taglist
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"Y'know, I'm sure as shit that L.t's got brown hair," Soap pipes up in the middle of the silence that had settled inside the safe house. 
The members of Task Force 141 glance up one by one, querying eyes cast Soap's way as the guesstimated observation hangs in the air. It's louder than chopper blades, thudding against your skull and roaring in your ears as you attempt to recall the information you have on Ghost, what little physical attributes you can attribute to him. Each time, you hit a brick wall. The only image conjured in your minds-eye is the black voids of the mask's eyes and the piercing amber of his irises. 
The wind howls outside, battering the windows with Wyoming snow and creeping in through the cracks in the panes. It makes a yowling sound as it slips through the crevices, carrying your memories of Ghost's appearance with it. He truly was like an apparition, there one moment, then gone altogether. 
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Gaz's brows crease in the middle, little crevices in the skin showing his mind working over the sentence. 
"He doesn't," he eventually retorts, eyebrow cocked while shaking his head, "He's blonde." 
"What makes you say that?" Price scoffs at his colleague's certainty, "You ever seen his face?"
The silence that follows makes the Captain chuckle. A wordless 'that's what I thought'. 
"You willin' to bet on that?" Soap pushes Gaz with a lopsided smirk. There it is, that ridiculous playfulness that the Scotsman continuously let slip over coms. Simon had once reprimanded him for how it would get him killed– you were almost certain if he continued down this path in particular, he'd be in a box by daylight.
"I am," Gaz counters thoughtlessly, a smug lilt to his tone as he leans the crown of his head back against the rotting wooden wall, "He's got blonde eyelashes. He's gonna have blonde hair."
"What're ya gettin' so close tae him for?" Soap grins wide, loading the new ammunition and hitting a bullseye on the first shot, "You been snoggin' him or somethin'?"
"Lads," Price warns. It's only one word, but it says a lot; 'he'll have your head.' All of you know Simon 'Ghost' Riley well enough to know it's not a joke. Seen enough of the mangled bodies he left behind to know it wouldn't be clean, either. More like he'd hack your skull from your neck, picking out the dullest blade that'd struggle to slot between vertebrae.  
"Bets on, then," Soap continues, white teeth gleaming in the low light, "First to confirm gets the honour of shootin' Hassan between the eyes." 
It's like throwing a match at a body doused in diesel. 
                           ✰
The parameters of this wager are as follows... First: the competition is between you, Soap and Gaz. Price was ruled automatically exempt the moment he admitted he had, indeed, seen Ghost's face. It was a revelation that caused quite a storm- and a promise from Gaz of £100 if he'd tell.
The Captain, quite frankly, told him where to stick it. 
Second: None of you could just ask Ghost himself. That was boring; no fun in that. 
Thirdly, there are no other rules. Acquire the information by any means necessary to claim victory. Perhaps this rule should have been revised- because to say that 141's tactics for getting Ghost to reveal his face were a little unorthodox is an understatement of the highest order. 
Despite his hulking frame, Ghost is like a cunning fox, cognizant of even the slightest changes in energy and hypervigilant of those approaching. The midnight void of his grease paint that frames his eyesockets contrasts the whites of his eyes as they dart back and forth between you all. He appears to have noted the devious scheming, practically hearing the cogs turning in your heads the moment he returned from his watch. Something is amiss, and you know Ghost knows it. 
He says nothing. 
Day One; the grumpy, black-clad special ops soldier sits back in his seat as he crosses his arms over his vast chest, cautiously observing the minute movements the three of you made. He'd bristled when Gaz stood from the sofa simply to enter another room, poised and ready to pounce at whatever fuckery the younger soldier would attempt. 
"Hey, L.t.," Soap's drawl cuts through the humorously tense atmosphere in the room, and you brace yourself for his master plan. "When was the last time ye got a haircut?"
Ghost hesitates. Waits a beat. The silence stretches almost uncomfortably until he answers, thick, bassy voice almost booming in the box room. "What're you playin' at, Johnny?"
Soap shrugs his shoulders, exuding complete nonchalance as he settles into the seat across the table from the hulking mass of man. "Just wondered if the mask ever came off. How do you cut your hair?"
Amusement ripples through you in the sound of a chuckle, both men glancing your way. Ghost peers at you, suspicion pooling thick in his pupils. 
"Shave it," Ghost rumbles bluntly, with an air of finality that leaves no room for argument or for Soap to encourage him to try something stupid like curtain bangs or, God forbid, a mohawk. 
You can't help but grin from ear to ear as you watch the Scotsman's shoulders slump in defeat, already waving a white flag upon seeing how unwilling Ghost is to play whatever stupid game you're all partaking in. Even you can't deny the anxiety that prickles across your nerve endings when you see the way Ghost's biceps flex beneath the camo fabric of his uniform, primed for action. 
When Ghost's aqua irises slide to you, your shoulders shrug comically, putting on the performance of your life to appear as though you had no idea what Johnny was up to. You see the way Ghost's blacked-out eyelids squint in suspicion. He doesn't believe you, but doesn't say as much. 
Day Three and the polite, roundabout tactics had been discarded in favour of the nuclear option. Gaz had tried ambushing Ghost in the shower, opening the door without knocking as if pretending he didn't know the Lieutenant was in there. The door slammed so quickly into his head that an egg had been steadily growing on his forehead for the past hour and a half, blood seeping from his almost certainly broken nose. 
"You'll stay out next time, Bravo 2-6, if you know what's good for you," Ghost had growled through the crack in the door before shutting it with a click of the lock. 
Holding his face and slinking away, mortally wounded, Gaz uttered a humiliated 'Yes, lieutenant'. 
Soap, clearly not having learnt from poor Gaz, decided that the next best option was a trip, so to speak. Executing a ludicrously overexaggerated stumble, Johnny reached out to grab Ghost's mask to 'steady himself' and ultimately drag it from his superior's head. 
Ghost had leapt from his seat with a roar, threatening to send Sergeant MacTavish back to Scotland in a box with the Saltire draped across the lid. The standoff only settled upon Captain Price's barked orders to stand down or hang up the uniform. 
By Day Six, Ghost had bruised your opponent's egos enough that neither Soap nor Gaz dared attempt to peek beneath the mask again. They look at you like you're absolutely bonkers when you finally announce it's your turn to try and tame the beast. 
"Yer fuckin' mad, hen," Johnny grumbled, watching you observe Ghost from across the room. He'd settled on a chair in the corner of the room, ensuring no one could sneak up on him. "You can't seriously be plannin' on-"
"I want Hassan," you shrug, a smile playing on your lips. Though, at this rate, you couldn't care less about the terrorist and the honour of dispatching him. No, Ghost had made this ridiculous game far more competitive than needed, and you planned to win.
"Have fun," Gaz scoffed bitterly, still icing the blotchy green and purple bruise that had welted on his forehead as a medal of dis-honour. You hadn't exactly helped the healing process, poking it harshly with the pad of your thumb as you laughed at his mortifying misfortune. 
You wait patiently for Ghost to move, like a stake out on a mission. Lying in plain sight in a ghillie suit, a sniper rifle pointed right between his eyes and your finger on a hairpin trigger. You wait for him to break, for exhaustion to creep in. Thankfully, you don't have to wait long. The Lieutenant rises from his chair, announcing to 141 that he's headed to bed. 
A quiet mumble of 'goodnight' from each member grants him leave, and Ghost walks out of the room without further word. You waste no time in hurrying to your feet. 
"Are you gonna...-" Soap winces when you stand, trailing off when you start after Ghost, not allowing either of your colleagues to talk you out of this suicide mission. 
Though, the moment you turn the corner, you wish you had. Ghost's broad frame practically fills the narrow hallway like someone had plucked Everest from Nepal and shoved its hulking mass into a matchbox. He's ginormous, his usually silent footsteps causing the aged, rotting wood beneath the soles of his boots to creak with the weight he applies when he turns to face you. 
The dark hallway obscures Ghost's skull-face mask, but a glittering reflection of the golden light bleeding from the bulb in the living room area flickers across the wet surface of his eyes as he observes you. You can't allow the weighty pressure of his stare to phase you if you're to push ahead with your plan- so you step forward, swallowing down the nerves that Ghost's attention inevitably dredges up. 
"Lieutenant, sir," you address him smoothly, voice low as you gaze up at him through your lashes. Ghost's eyebrow arches in response, noting your somewhat suggestive behaviour. "Permission to spea-"
"I'm hopin' you'll tell me what you're all up to," his eyes spear your nerve as he interrupts you, "They're not lettin' up, but I'll get it outta you one way or another." 
"What... Did you have in mind?" You chance, heart slamming up against your chest when you realise just how obvious you're being. It's dangerous- you hadn't planned to be so forward. The idea that he'd be able to read your flirting so soon set off mortars in your veins. 
There's a pause. It dizzies you, throwing your previously sturdy confidence off kilter when Ghost tilts his masked head slightly. He's turning it over in his mind, considering the past few days' events. Then, he turns everything on its side. 
"I know what you're doing," he speaks suddenly, the rich baritone of his voice ricocheting off the walls and ringing in your ears like he's just discharged a round of ammo with each syllable. You jerk upright, standing to attention. 
"I don't know what you m-"
"You want the mask off," he interrupts you again, cutting your pathetic excuse short as he steps forward. It's ridiculous, the sheer size of him as he looms over you. "You lot made a bet."
Another beat. Ghost waits for a response, an admission of guilt. It feels like he's cornered you; every answer that springs to mind is incriminating. You know he can see your rueful expression, wide-eyed and panicked by the ease with which he puts you on the ropes. 
"Was this your plan?" He murmurs, reaching to grasp your chin. His palm settles on the hollow of your jaw, fingers fanning out across the bone. "Get me into bed and see if I'll take it off?"
Trembling in his hold, you whimper as Ghost's thumb stretches across to trace the curve of your lip. It follows the delicate arc, lining the shape of your mouth and trailing the dip of your cupid's bow. 
"'M sorry," you mumble weakly, cheeks hot beneath his touch. Again, you fold beneath the intensity of those honeyed irises. It's a miracle your knees don't buckle when he pushes the pad of his thumb just past your lips, so that it brushes the edges of your teeth. 
"That was your plan. Y'can still give it a try, love. But..." he hums, his voice throaty and quiet and settling in the pit of your stomach. It's embarrassing, the ease with which he figures you out, but his words drip over you, easy and warm, and all you can focus on is the slip of his thumb as he presses the pad against the flat of your tongue. 
"The mask stays on." 
Ghost’s insistence makes you giggle sheepishly and your stomach flip in dread, like a child caught with its hand down a bear trap. Despite the lewdness of him pushing his thumb past your lips, you know that he’s being serious, deathly so. You nod clumsily in recognition of his executive order, and Ghost gently taps the skin of your cheek with his free hand, the soft slap of his palm against your flesh standing your hair on end.
“Go.”
The word hangs in the air for a moment, weighing heavily in the claustrophobic space of the small hallway. It takes a moment for your mind, rendered utterly useless by Ghost’s imposing presence, to understand exactly what he’s implying. Only when he removes his thumb from your mouth to shove you forward towards a bedroom door does his intention become clear.
Oh. Oh!
Scrambling to force your feet forward, they practically float across the threshold of the bedroom door. You can feel Ghost looming just behind you, can practically feel the heat radiating from his chest warming the expanse of your back. Fingers clasp over your shoulder, practically swallow the curved flesh, and shove you back against the bedroom wall.
The force of impact winds you, the air expelled from your lungs swallowed down by Ghost’s lips bearing heavily down upon your own. He’d ripped the mask upwards, the hem of the ski-mask balanced across the bridge of his nose. Simon’s tongue licks into your mouth– intrudes upon the space like he’s kicking down a door, like he’s swallowing the breath he’d expelled from you with his heavy hand. 
Once the dazed dizziness dissipates, you moan in relief at finally getting what you wanted. Ghost’s gigantic paw takes hold of your jaw in a firm grip to fit his mouth perfectly against your own, his swirling fingerprints indenting in the soft flesh there in a mottled bruise. The soft pine he coaxes from you bleeds past your open mouth despite your attempt to suppress the frankly pathetic noise. 
Fuck it, this was worth it– all of it was worth it. The fear of getting it wrong, the anxiety of being caught, the panic that Simon could turn you away… All of it seeps into the darkness in the corners of the room when your superior drags his tongue across your lower lip. It’s though he’s relishing in the taste of the aftershocks of the arousal he sparks between your legs, the dopamine that rushes through you.
“Was this your plan?” Ghost grunts, grasping ahold of the scruff of your neck. Gasping weakly, you’re almost certain your eyes roll back in your head when he uses his harsh grip to steer you towards the bed. “Get me out of my fuckin’ mind so I don’t notice you takin’ off the mask?”
“That’s–” you huff, rendered breathless by Ghost’s intruding tongue, “That’s not it–”
Your pitiful attempt to excuse yourself is made useless when Ghost practically launches you onto the mattress of his bed, the rusted metal frame screaming under the sudden weight of your body. 
“No?” he queries, the usual boom of authority in his voice replaced by something that sounds far more like goading amusement as he places the hefty weight of his palm against your sternum, holding you down and thwarting any attempt to escape. 
He needn’t worry. The last thing you wanted was to leave. 
“Tell you what,” he muses in that smug tone you always hear over the comms, his free hand quick to grasp at the leather of his belt. The buckle clinks in the quiet as he works his fingers over it, “We’ll run through this mission, yeh? See if you can complete your objective, Delta?”
Your retort, or lack thereof, dies in your throat when Ghost pushes his crotch into your own. If it weren’t for the yelp of bliss that the Lieutenant had to smother with his palm, you’d hear the way he’d practically purred when he dragged his cock against you. 
“C’mon then. Try it,” he urged. 
It’s pointless, his mock-support. You just desperately reach for the waistband of his khaki uniform trousers, cockdrunk from the tease of its shape against you. Even in the low light, you can see Ghost’s scarred lips, the way they stretch into a smirk at your desperation. 
“Abandoning mission, Sergeant?” He asks you, unzipping his trousers. “Price’ll be disappointed to know this is all it takes for Delta to go AWOL.”
“Shut up,” you moan into the cold air of the cabin. You can see your breath. “Shut up and fuck me.”
When Simon removed himself from his trousers, making some glib comment about you being demanding, you marvel at the size of him. Girthy, swollen, the ruddy tip leaks precum down the arch of his cock and traces the pulsing veins. He’s rock hard and throbbing, framed by a thatch of pubic hair. 
Fumbling with your own trousers, you awkwardly try to remove them given Simon’s weighty palm still pins you down by your sternum. He watches, a glint in his eye in the low light that would almost embarrass you if you weren’t so focused on the task at hand. 
“What was the prize?” 
“H-Huh?” you stall, mind fried by Ghost’s unexpected line of enquiry. He picks up where you left off, violently yanking your trousers down your thighs and pushing your panties aside to expose your glistening cunt to his prying eyes. 
“What. Was. The. Prize?”
You hesitate for a moment, feeling Ghost’s fingers press against the inside of your thighs as he probes this unexplored territory of you. His touch skirts the areas you want him most, teasing and goading you for more information. “H-Hassa-ahh!”
You barely manage the first syllable of your answer before Simon rests the arch of his cock against your slick pussy lips. His body jerks slightly at the heat of your swollen cunt, the ease with which he can slide himself through your drenched sex. 
“You got to kill Hassan?” he asked for confirmation, his voice unwavering. You wonder how he manages to stay so steady– you’re coming apart at the seams, trembling as the head of his cock bumps your clit clumsily. 
“Yes,” you breathe, eyes rolling back as he continues his laboured, steady torture. His free hand settles on your hip, arching your pelvis up slightly to meet his own. You grind your hips upward against his cock, and Simon expels a soft scoff from lungs, those piercing eyes settled on your contorting expression. 
“Mhmm,” he hums, rolling his hips again. This time it’s even slower, teasing. “A temptin’ reward–” 
Simon is interrupted by the moan that splits your lips when he drags the length of his cock heavily against your clit. It sparks arousal deep in your abdomen, clings to the inside of your thighs wetly. 
Perhaps the disturbance is one transgression too many tonight, because Simon grasps your hips so hard that you are forced to stop gliding over the length of his cock. You pine in protest, but you choke on the pitiful sound when Ghost suddenly plunges his cock inside of you. It spears you open, breaks you apart, and you find your back arching desperately against the mattress. 
The palm that had rooted itself to your sternum flies up to clasp against your mouth, smothering the shriek of bliss that threatened to expose your extracurricular activities to the rest of your squad. You sob through your teeth beneath his life line, tears welling in your eyes as you feel him stretch your walls open to make room for his intrusion. 
You can’t help yourself. You need something to grasp onto, and opt for his wrist above your face. Digging your nails into the inked flesh there, you watch as the pain sparks something dark and twisted in Simon’s pupils, his azure irises swallowed by the expanding blackness.
He likes it. You can tell. His cock arches up inside of you, pushing deep and rocking against something earth shattering inside of you. Damp with sweat already, the skin of his wrist ripples as he tightens his grip on your face, refusing to withdraw from your pussy walls and instead opting for sharp, shallow thrusts that push you up the mattress with each connection of your hips. 
“Fuck,” he spits, using his tight grasp to pull you back towards him. It’s obliterating you, ripping you apart and pushing all your pieces back together in a mangled, jumbled mess. You whimper as you suffer through his brutal pace, marvelling at how good it feels when he consistently spears your g-spot. 
“When would you have done it?” Simon asks you, a little breathless now as he chases the high that begins to build at the edges of your body, tingling and pulsing. 
“Shut up–” you beg him, the low rasp of his voice launching you towards that pleasure that threatens to consume you. Jerking your hips up to meet his, your body mindlessly reacts to the sound of his timbre. 
“Oh, no,” he chuckles, shaking his half masked face. There’s a silver laden scar that stretches across the base of his chin. It matches the one that splits his upper lip to the base of his nose, the ski mask hovering tantalisingly over the bridge. “When?” 
The seriousness of his tone makes your thighs quiver when paired with the sharp thrust he punctuates his question with. Years of training in maintaining a cover-story while a hostage are blown to bits as though Ghost has launched a mortar at your resolve, because suddenly all your state secrets are spilling out of you quicker than you can shove the incriminating words back into your traitor mouth. 
“I’d– Hagh… I’d do it j-just as you’re cummin–hhah!”
“And spoil my fun?” Ghost hums, that heavy timbre licking up your spine and sparking viscous embers at the base of your spine, “Anyone ever told you that you’re very fuckin’ selfish, Delta?” 
You’d offer a witty comment, but Ghost’s angled his hips just right, and your jaw is falling loose to let out a panicked whimper. 
“There it is, shit. Look at you, Sargeant. Fuckin’, you’re so tight–” 
You’re like a slip knot, tightening around him further with each knock of your g-spot with Simon’s ridiculously large cock-head. Prickling tears of bliss threaten to spill over the edge of your waterline, continuing to sting even when you shut your eyes. You’re shaking, trembling beneath his rocking hips as you mewl his name. 
“S-Simon! Fuck–”
Wild, wet squelches of Simon sinking into your soaked cunt echo in your skull as he ramps up his violent thrusts, the springs of his mattress screaming an unmistakable rhythm to anyone walking by. He doesn’t seem to care now though, his eyes zeroed in on your expression like he’s stalking a victim with his sniper scope. Aiming for complete obliteration. 
“C’mon Can feel you squeezin’ round me,” he murmurs, the steady tone he’d offered earlier shuddering slightly as you squeeze impossibly tight around him, coil threatening to snap, “You’re so close, Delta. C’mon, paint my cock an’ I’ll eat you out with my cum in you–” 
                           ✰
“He’s blonde.” 
Gawping jaws drop to the floor at your very simple observation, Soap’s eyes nearly rolling across the uneven, rotten floorboards after falling out of his skull. You can’t help the smug smile that threatens to tug at the edge of your lips, especially given the sensation of Ghost’s eyes boring holes into the back of your skull. 
The awe only worsens when Price gives a subtle nod of confirmation from the corner of the darkened room, crowning you the winner of this utterly ridiculous joust. 
“How do you know?” Gary is as shaken as Soap by the confidence with which you’d offered your final answer, in disbelief as to how you could have possibly obtained it without being maimed, given the egg on his forehead was still throbbing despite days of icing it with the snow from outside the safehouse.
“His pubes are. I assume the curtains match the drapes,” you shrug dismissively. 
The sheer incredulity that flashes across Johnny’s face is utterly hilarious. The smirk that had been threatening to break finally cracks across your lips at the confirmation of your victory. Ghost’s eyes appear to have lazered through your skull, singing brain matter with the ferocity of his scowl. Frankly, you couldn’t care less– you can see it in your mind's eye; the gorgeous contrast of a blood-red crosshair settling across Hassan’s forehead, the weight of the trigger beneath your finger as you pull it back.
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cod mwii/kinktober taglist:
@mockerycrow @bubuslutty @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @levi-llama @thebiscuitsheep @maelstrom007 @alexxavicry @bug-sy-boy @glennrheesworld @kittenfrostt @luvfromkat @blingblong55 @whore4dilfs @wolfyland07 @doggydale @dog55teeth @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @whore-for-anime @i-love-ghost @cyberpr1m3 @mockerycrow @bubuslutty @lundenloves @cheezitwh0re @haunt3dh3art @babychoi03 @infectedkura @allekat1988 @whore-for-anime @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @mockerycrow @cyberpr1m3 @i-love-ghost @allekat1988 @infectedkura @babychoi03 @freakquenci @maviee @yunggoblin @sleepystaarr @watyousayin @soupbinsoup @passi0np1t @damn-dean-blog @pheonyxmoon @magicalreviewphantom @limegreenbabx @johfaam0 @iaur @justsayk
@mortallyuniquepeach @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @crybaby-blue-blog @heart-atttack @pansa-1-san @maviee @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago @s-u-t @ghostslynx @solidly-indulgent @glitterypirateduck @gummyfang @bii-aan-ckaa @konigsblog @crissteetee @crissteetee67 @sylvanasthebansheequeen @akaym2 @exploremyworldsm @thriving-n-jiving @su57 @cabreezer0117 @cathnoneofyourbusiness @marygraceee @thatchickwiththecamera @legend-o-zelda @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @tusk89 @bellasbees01 @dog55teeth
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wrencatte · 1 year
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Kryptonians have little fangies. Jason has little fangies.
People look at him - his broad shoulders, his (curly) hair, his strength and cunning, (his eyes) - and think "batman" but then he grins or laughs or snarks and they see the fangs and they're like "oh shit a super. Shit. Shit, a super who uses guns." And they go on this downward spiral of trying to figure out if him being related to either batman or superman is scarier
Then someone offers up the idea that he's related to both
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nxuvillette · 5 months
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“LET’S KEEP THIS HUSH, HUSH.”
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CEO SECRET RELATIONSHIP W/ TR MEN
synopsis: messing with the ceo of your rivaling company didn’t seem that hard to let go of.. or did it?
❥- including : ran haitani, sanzu haruchiyo, rindou haitani
❥- note : trying this again! praying it actually works 😭 reblogs are appreciated!!
content warnings: nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, ceo!reader, bonten timeline, all men are ceo’s, mentions of harassment (sanzu), praising, use of pet names (baby , angel , princess), slight breeding kink (ran + rindou), creampie (all), some possessive behavior, mentions of pregnancy (rindou).
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♡ RAN HAITANI
you never expected to fall for someone like ran haitani. 
he was cunning, attractive, and quite a clever man. he also ran one of the best businesses in all of Roppongi. he attracted all kinds of women by just doing simply nothing, so when he saw you at a club, you didn’t think it would be anything more than a quickie in the bathroom. 
that quickie turned into dates, hookups at his apartment, and him taking you out more than you had anticipated.
however, all of that changed when you discovered that ran just wasn’t a ceo for some random company, but it was the same company that rivaled yours. your father had some previous ties to the business and he seemed to have forgotten to mention it to you when you took hold of the reins. you were now worried. as a ceo of your own company, you placed yourself at risk for possibly sabotaging things that your father had worked so hard to create. 
but, you just couldn’t help yourself. 
your face was smooshed into the leather of ran’s expensive couch. his fingertips danced along your spine while his cock lazily dragged inside of your walls. you had told yourself you weren’t going to see him tonight. you wanted to ignore his text messages, but there was something about his presence that drew you in. he was addictive. 
“you’re taking me so well, angel..” he squeezed the plush of your ass, savoring how soft your skin was. 
your eyes rolled back from how well ran was fucking you. there was just something about how he did it that made you light on fire. it’s what made you come crawling back to him every single time. “a-ah! ran! yes, right there!” you mewled when the tip kissed that spongy spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure over you.
the older haitani loved how pretty you sounded right now. he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. you were too damn perfect to ever pass up. he didn’t give a single shit if you two were meant to be “rivals.” how was someone like him supposed to never see someone like you? you were one of the only women he genuinely saw himself being comfortable with. he didn’t want to be a secret, but for you, he’d do absolutely anything.
his grip on your hips tightened and his pace suddenly became quicker than it had originally begun. “ran! fuck, fuck, cum inside me!” you cried, turning your head just a little so you could see his handsome face.
he couldn’t stop the smirk he wore from writing itself on his face. god, he had been wanting to do that for so damn long. “ah..? okay, baby, i’ll make sure you’re nice and full when i’m done..” he cooed, pushing you further into the couch.
skin slapped against each other as ran’s pace was practically animalistic. he groaned deeply when he finally met his release. spurts of his cum made its way into your cunt, making you shiver from how it felt. that had been the first time he had ever came inside you, and you honestly craved it a lot. it was so amazing.
he pulled out of you, leaning down to whisper into your ear. “i’ll gladly be your secret, baby, but nobody better touch you other than me..” 
♡ SANZU HARUCHIYO
you met sanzu in an odd way one evening. you were on the way home from your long and tiring work day when some random guy kept egging you on. he kept making comments towards you and practically begging for you to give him any ounce of attention.
well, the guy didn’t end up leaving you alone, and he ended up trailing after you in a pretty shitty part of town. you couldn’t lie that you weren’t scared. the sun had already set and that guy was hot on your tail. you could try calling the police but you knew full well that they wouldn’t get there in time to help you, so you tried your best to rush out of there and lose the guy.
unfortunately, he caught up to you and ended up yanking on your arm. you let out a scream and shoved him away from you, but he was quite strong. you thought you were about to be robbed or even worse, but that all immediately fizzled out when someone had intervened. a man with bubblegum pink hair had the guy shoved on the ground. he kicked and beat the shit out of the guy, leaving him completely scared and helpless on the dirty floor. 
sanzu had tended to you the moment he saw your frightened expression. he brought you to the police station and you reported the man who had been following you. you thought that would be the last time you’d ever see him, but that wasn’t the case.
you saw him more often than you should have. you two started a connection with each other and began to go out to bars or even little dates. you tried to tell yourself it was just platonic, but you disliked how your heart would often skip a beat whenever you saw his name light up on your phone. the only issue was that sanzu was the head of a huge company in Tokyo. he rivaled you, and seeing him could cause issues within your business. however, you just couldn’t stay away.
that’s how you ended up in your own office with sanzu hovering above you. his cock bullied your walls, making it difficult for you to keep quiet. “mmm.. sanzu! oh, god..” you moaned, looking at him through your eyelashes.
a smile stretched across his scarred lips. he knew from the beginning that you were his rival. he had seen you before, but he could care less. you were a beautiful woman and he couldn’t lie that you made him happy. “keep sayin’ it, baby, scream out my fuckin’ name so everyone in this building knows who’s making you feel good..” he then began to play with your swollen clit, increasing the pleasure. 
you practically screamed his name when you finally came all over his cock. he thought it was so cute seeing you becoming such a mess for him. “s-sanzu! sanzu!” you whined, trembling within his hands from your orgasm.
your desk began to creak from the movements and the weight you both were putting on it. sanzu’s pace was rough and fast. you could hardly keep up with him. his cock was twitching and within seconds he felt himself let go inside of you. he loved how warm your pussy felt around him. he just couldn’t help himself.
he kissed you sloppily, biting on your lower lip. “don’t think we’re much of a secret now, are we..?”
♡ RINDOU HAITANI
rindou haitani was quite the charmer. he didn’t have the best luck with women, but when he did, he treated them like angels. that was no different when he met you at one of the clubs he DJ at.
he drew you in almost instantly. his expensive cologne, lavender hair, a smile that could make any girl drop her panties. you knew hooking up with him that night would be good, and you thought it would be just a simple one night stand. most men your age never really stuck around after one sex filled evening, so you placed your expectations below what they usually were.
though, it shocked you when rindou continued to message you, even after your hookup.
although you were a little unsure of his intentions, you decided to keep seeing him. he took you out on nice dates, and he had even went as far as buying you a few nice gifts from expensive stores. it wasn’t until your assistant pointed out who rindou actually was that you realized how wrong it looked to be seeing someone like him. rindou ran a company that rivaled yours. it shocked you that you hadn’t noticed far sooner, but you just couldn’t stay away from him.
you repeated to yourself over and over that you wouldn’t fuck him again. you shouldn’t be doing it at all. 
but, your body had betrayed you and that desire for him lit like a candle in the dark.
rindou had your legs around his waist. his thrusts were deep and fast, making you cry out in pleasure every single time he reached those great spots inside you. he had you just where he wanted you. “rindou..! fuck, it feels so good..!” you threw your head back onto the pillow behind you. 
“heh, you enjoying yourself? you’re so fucking beautiful..” he groaned, leaning down to nibble at your neck.
you gasped when rindou bit down on that sweet spot on your neck. he sucked on it hard enough that there would for sure be a mark afterwards. it’s like he was begging for you two to be caught by others. that thought alone didn’t seem to bother rindou. if anything, he wanted people to know what you two were doing with each other. 
you clawed at his back when you felt your orgasm hit you harder than a truck. rindou couldn’t help but grunt when your pussy clamped around his cock so perfectly. fuck, it’s like you were made for him. “so good for me, baby, so fuckin’ good..” he quickened his thrusts, inching him closer to his high. “want me to cum in you..? make this pretty pussy all mine?” 
“y-yes! yes, please, rindou!” you cried, nodding your head.
he held your thighs tightly, fucking the absolute shit out of your cunt. you were so fucking great. he never found someone like you. he didn’t care what your statuses might be. all he wanted was you. 
rindou groaned one last time then he reached his climax. he had completely let go inside of you. thick cum filled your womb, leaving a huge mess inside. you took it all so well. he didn’t want to leave your snug walls. “wanna go again..? maybe i can give you a baby while i’m at it..” he smirked.
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© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.
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malleleothreesome · 5 months
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Leona who is pining after you...
💛 summary: Cohesive blurbs about things Leona would do and what he would be like if he were pining after you. ༶༶༶ 💛 warnings: gender neutral reader, unedited, pretty much just a stream of my thoughts. There is cursing. Very angsty but also has romance. Mentions of depressive thoughts. A very raw look into Leona's mind. There is smut (wet dream) in the middle, marked with 🔞 if you want to skip to the next bullet. ༶༶༶ 💛 word count: 4.7k because I'm delulu
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💛 Leona who is pining after you... tries to gaslight himself and cling to any sort of logical explanation he can come up with to try to convince himself that he definitely does not have feelings for you. It was probably just a one-time thing, and he just needs to find a way to get you out of his head. He's never thought about anyone this way before, so it's definitely just an error in his brain chemistry or something. It was only a coincidence that he happened to be thinking about you at that particular time, and if you had never been on his mind at all, his heart wouldn't be beating so fast every time he interacts with you. He would never allow himself to develop feelings for anyone, especially you, so he must not actually have any. It's really that simple. It couldn't possibly be that he's fallen for some weird, magicless human, right? Right?! There has to be something medically wrong with him! He must be crazy to have these kinds of thoughts about a stranger who just randomly poofed into existence at the beginning of the semester. Why did you invade his dreams? It doesn't matter! What the hell is wrong with him?!
It has to be a mistake, because there is no way he would EVER fall for someone as annoying and boring as you are, even if you do seem to have a better understanding of him than the people who have known him his whole life, and you treat him like he actually matters instead of seeing him as the scumbag you probably should have gotten to know better before giving him your time and attention. It's not like he genuinely cares what you think of him, anyway – he’s just grateful that he doesn't have to deal with another person treating him like a failure or a lazy, worthless piece of shit.
The way you look at him like he could be someone worth loving despite his constant tirade of anger is definitely not a key factor in him caring for you. Your smile and laugh makes his chest feel funny, and the fact that he is suddenly hyper-aware of his body when he's around you is probably just a symptom of mental or physical illness. Maybe he’s finally eaten too much red meat and he’s about to succumb to heart disease at the ripe age of 20. Perhaps he simply hasn't rubbed one out in a while and he’s thinking with his dick and not his head? He's definitely not attracted to you, and he's absolutely not thinking about what it would be like to kiss you right now. That would just be insane, and he can't believe he even let himself entertain the thought! He’d rather die than think about what it would be like to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as you sit on his lap, looking down at him with that beautiful smile and those cunning eyes of yours, gently stroking his face as you lean down to press your lips against his… oh, god dammit!
💛 Leona who is pining after you… finally lays down in surrender to the fact that, alright, maybe he does have feelings for your dumb ass – against all odds. He convinces himself that he’s only humoring this pathetic little crush because it makes his monotonous, tiresome days a little more riveting. Lions are predators, and the thrill of the hunt is a key part of their nature, after all. Before you, all he had to look forward to was staring at the ceiling in his dark room for most of the day until the stars showed up in the sky, or until he got roped into housewarden drama and became too frustrated to do anything other than restlessly pace around Savanaclaw before eventually confining himself back to the comforting solitude of his room. He tells himself he might as well allow himself the small luxury of thinking about someone who doesn’t entirely annoy the shit out of him, because he could sure as hell use the emotional relief. At least this way, he isn’t actively thinking about how much he hates his life, and how much he hates himself for letting it become this way. Besides, what would be the harm in letting himself entertain the idea that maybe, just maybe – if he was lucky enough – you could be the first person to ever break down the walls he built to keep himself from getting hurt by other people? Plus, if nothing else, you make for such a pretty daydream.
Every moment he spends with you makes him want you to keep sticking around even after everything is said and done. You can actually keep up with his banter, which is probably why he can actually stand being around you in the first place. No one else is capable of keeping up with his quick wit, or of providing him with a good challenge. You aren't scared off by his harsh demeanor, and you're able to stand up to him when he gets a little too overbearing. You don't take his bullshit, but you still care about his well being and treat him with respect. Despite his public struggles, you don’t see him as some sort of charity case. He's never met anyone else who is able to be so firm with him, but gentle at the same time. He didn't know someone could have such a strong presence without even having magic, but you're somehow always able to pull the rug out from under him, showing him that you're much more powerful than he initially gave you credit for. You're a real pain in his ass sometimes, but you're also the only person in years who's made him feel like life might actually be worth living. Maybe these feelings aren't so bad after all…
💛 Leona who is pining after you… starts leaving his room more often and even attending classes again, hoping he'll run into you on campus. If he doesn't see you, that would suck, but he knows if he stays in his room all day, then he'd risk losing the chance to spend the day with you completely. Besides, if there's even the slightest possibility, seeing you could be the highlight of his day and make even his shittiest days seem almost bearable. When you finally show up, he throws a casual greeting and a nonchalant raise of a single brow, pretending like he coincidentally ran into you in the crowd and totally didn't memorize your class schedule. When your face lights up, telling him you were glad to run into him, his pulse races and for a split second, a goofy grin flashes on his face and he desperately starts fighting his tail from swishing eagerly behind him. All he does is mumble in agreement, then shove his hands in his pockets, rolling his eyes like this isn't what he's been waiting for since he woke up. He says he might as well join you in the cafeteria, because he's starving and it's that time anyway, so whatever.
As you enter the lunch line, your face falls in disappointment when you realize your favorite sandwich is sold out. Leona expected something like this would happen, so he asked Ruggie to grab him one of that type of sandwich along with his usual order, on the chance that he would get to spend lunch with you. He looks to his right, glancing at your slumped shoulders as your mood seems to deflate a little as a frown forms on your face. He steps forward and grumbles an off-hand comment that he snagged one earlier for himself, but since you look so pitiful, he'll let you have it, only because he doesn't want to deal with your incessant whining the whole lunch. When you gape up at him, shocked by his thoughtful gesture, his face starts burning red as he quickly turns away, aggressively stuffing a bite of food in his face to make himself look distracted. When he happens to catch your thankful eyes glistening at him, it feels like the air has been punched right out of his lungs, and the small smile and sincere gratitude tugging on the corner of your lips causes his stomach to do backflips. How annoying that his usually stoic demeanor always falls apart in front of you.
💛 Leona who is pining after you... constantly teases you and tries to embarrass you, attempting to make it sound like you're the one pining for him (even if you're not!) just to try to distract you from the truth. He teases you relentlessly, hoping it’ll make it so you won't feel confident calling him out on the little ways he treats you differently than everyone else. He loves seeing you get flustered trying to deny it, but he also uses it as an opportunity to study your reactions, trying to deduce your real feelings for him by the color in your cheeks, the wavering of your voice, how often you avert your eyes, and how quickly you fire back with an argument. The smirk that emerges on his face tells you exactly that he's not convinced, even if you deny everything. He may be subtle about it, but he uses every opportunity he can find to feel you out, to see if there's even the slightest possibility you might feel something for him. He'll never let you know how badly he wants it to be true with every fiber of his being. He’d be absolutely thrilled if you confessed to him, but he’ll never show it, because it's far more comfortable hiding behind sarcasm. His prideful, guarded heart prevents him from expressing genuine positive emotions and potentially opening himself up to any type of mockery.
💛 Leona who is pining after you... slowly becoming more attached to the idea of you falling for him. As the weeks go by and he hears you giggle as you argue with him, his thoughts linger a bit more when they try to calculate why he's not actually feeling burnt out from spending so much time with you. His patience with the rest of the world starts waning, not really bothering to deal with anyone or anything that could distract him from basking in your aura for as long as possible. He even takes a more active role in interacting with you, whether you two are chatting as he sits on a bench in the botanical gardens, or hanging out after-hours in his room, hoping that this could eventually become a common routine. He loves learning about you and the world you come from. When you open up about your background, he enjoys getting a glimpse into your mind. His brain starts rapidly filing away little details about you, creating a catalog of thoughts for each of his favorite things about you, or the little quirks you have that he secretly finds endearing. The memories of conversations where you both held each other's gaze for a fraction of a second longer than normal or the accidental touches that cause his heart to skip a beat come to life with a vibrance never seen in other parts of his memory bank. The time you grabbed his hand because the tree branches kept making “spooky” noises around you and the time you playfully messed up his hair (even daring to cop a feel of his ear in the process!), are some of his favorite memories to revisit.
As you two grow closer and more comfortable with each other, he pretends to be annoyed at you more often, only because he wants to test how well you can read him, and also how far he can push you. He revels in the way he feels a spark in his chest and a faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips whenever your eyes meet. He tries hard to remind himself that the growing heat rising to his face every time you grin at him is all because of the temperature. His playful touches start to become more sensual, his voice dips deeper and more seductive as his hands linger on your skin, his breath fanning against your face and neck with every taunting word spoken. He hates himself for loving the way you bite your lip and blush under his gaze as he continues to run his hand up your arm, causing your eyelids to flutter. He loves the feeling of power your vulnerable, affectionate expression grants him, the rush of endorphins so great he thinks his entire body might collapse. When he pulls his hand back, the stinging absence leaves him in a state of panic, terrified that this might have been the moment you'd realize how he feels about you and finally flee. In an effort to swallow his vulnerability and save face, he'll cover up his aroused desire with aggression. With a bite in his tone, he'll lash out at you, mocking the way you acted so touch-starved and desperate in the heat of the moment, even though the only one truly desperate here is him. He has to force himself to maintain eye contact and an air of dominance with you while he snaps at you, even as he feels his throat tighten, heart slamming against his ribs. He metaphorically shoves you away and leaves before he loses control, before his raw affection for you spills from his lips like a confession.
💛 🔞 Leona who is pining after you... fast asleep as he lies alone in bed, your figure haunting his dreams. Right before he fell asleep, he was having a particularly bad day and he found himself clinging to a fantasy of holding you in his arms, using you as an anchor to help him process the dread of reality. On a typical night, all he has are his regrets and unanswered questions swirling around in his subconscious, but tonight is different – he falls asleep dreaming about being curled up against your warmth, wondering what it would be like for you to stroke his hair, gently reminding him that there's at least one good thing to wake up for, no matter how empty the day may feel.
As he falls deeper into his slumber, his eyelids begin to twitch and his long eyelashes tickle his flushed cheekbones. He finds himself lost within a dreamy state that feels so very real to him as your face fades into focus. You're kneeling beside him in the bed, and his body is covered in the sheets, with your arms wrapped underneath his shoulder. He can barely tell whether or not this is really a dream at this point as you rest your head against his. He can feel his body stirring and his tail twitching, roused by the comforting and blissful affection. The way you smile at him as you run your thumb along the curvature of his sharp jawline stirs a dormant ache in his soul as you lean forward and leave featherlight kisses in the crook of his neck, causing him to whimper under his breath. He buries his nose in the locks of your hair, desperately wrapping his arms around your waist, pushing your face deeper into the space between his neck and shoulder, craving the coziness and comfort of being physically close to the source of his yearning. In his dreams, your lips are able to be as soft and gentle as they are fierce and demanding, as the grip he has on reality grows weaker the longer he lets himself be trapped under the intoxicating spell you cast upon him, rendering him at the mercy of his deepest desires.
His breath becomes more labored and hitched, his temperature rising as a flush spreads across his face. His body starts moving involuntarily and he buries his hips further into his mattress, his aching cock desperate to be touched, throbbing as his precum smears against the sheets. He begins humping the bed, whining from the friction against his bare skin as he pulls you closer in his dream, shamelessly chasing after the erotic thoughts racing through his mind, fueled by the illusion of having you in his possession – ready to be ravished and worshiped by him and him alone. His full lips part as he moans your name. He thrashes around in his bed, a tingling, aching need radiates throughout his groin as his back arches off of the sheets, grinding his cock against the fabric of his blanket. He can almost feel the warmth of your body as he bucks his hips upwards once more, desperate for your heat. His fingers twitch as they clutch tighter onto the fabric, desperately trying to grab onto the illusion of you instead, wishing he could feel the texture of your skin underneath his fingertips. In his hazy state, he bites his lips and runs his fingers down his sculpted abdomen, his hand with a mind of its own, aching to reach lower. With a sigh of pleasure, he teases the tip of his leaking, throbbing erection as the muscles in his legs quiver with anticipation. He pushes his thumb against the slit of his tip, already wet with his excitement. He slowly rubs circles around his cockhead, causing his breath to hitch and his cock jerk at the sensation. In his unconscious mind, it's not his hand gripping his shaft – it's yours.
He wraps his large hand around the length of his dick, letting out a moan of pleasure as he starts to stroke, his pace increasing steadily with each pump, imagining what it would be like to have you kneeling between his spread legs, looking up at him as you jerk him off, begging to be fucked by him. His cock twitches and aches to be inside of you, to see your lewd expression as his dick fills you, his senses overwhelmed by the sight of you under him, sprawled out, sweaty and splayed wide open for the taking, gasping for air in between broken moans. His hips buck into his hand and he lets out a low growl as he feels the pressure building within him, feeling himself getting closer to the edge. He quickens the pace as he squeezes the base of his cock, stroking faster and faster, trying to keep up with the intensity of his dream. He wants to feel your velvety walls squeezing around him, milking every drop of cum from his throbbing cock. He pants heavily as the sensation of ecstasy courses through his body, moaning your name as he orgasms, his back arching off of the bed as he cums all over his hand, shooting thick ropes of hot cum onto his abs. He slows his pace, riding out his orgasm, lazily stroking his cock as it pulsates through his veins, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure tingling down his spine. With a final moan of satisfaction, he collapses on his bed, utterly spent from his activities. The euphoria of his orgasm fades away as he comes back to reality, slowly finding himself coming into consciousness. As he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the mess he made. He groans as he rolls out of bed, annoyed that he has to clean up after his wet dream before he can go back to sleep.
💛 Leona who is pining after you... falls into despair when he realizes his stupid feelings for you aren't going away – they're actually getting stronger by the day. You’ve made him feel like the world's not actually so cruel anymore, but he knows that his tiny, fragile castle is sure to crumble at any moment. Nothing good ever stays his way, does it? He's been telling himself that this was all some game. It's not like he actually wanted to be in a relationship with you, right? That would be far too much work. But what if you were actually worth the time? What if he could have someone who knew every aspect of his being and still loved and accepted him? What if he could be the person who's worthy of your beautiful, unrelenting love? Even as he chastises himself for entertaining the possibility of a relationship with anyone – especially a herbivore like you – a desperate, longing ache burrows into his bones, overpowering the cold, empty hollowness within him that had haunted him his whole life. This can't be love that he's feeling, and if it is... he knows now that love is the only strategy game in existence he's terrible at playing. There's no doubt in his mind he'll make the worst decisions imaginable because his entire being is clouded with insecurity. He is painfully aware that if he were to ever open himself up to the possibility of being with you, then his first thought would be of a thousand ways you would hurt him. He tortures himself with worries and fear, letting himself be consumed by anxiety.
The thing that frightens him most is becoming reliant on someone else for his happiness. Having someone whose opinion he actually values not thinking he is good enough for them is his worst nightmare. If there's one thing life has taught him, it's better to not have anyone at all. Besides, he doesn't even deserve you. There isn't a soul in this world who deserves someone like you – someone so selfless, understanding, empathetic, and forgiving. If you were his, you'd suffer. Your light would slowly flicker out from the darkness he would drown you in, just like everything else in his life that ever mattered to him. There is so much beauty to you that would go to waste in his care – why would someone as perfect as you ever settle for someone like him, anyway? There's no way you'd ever return his feelings. And even if you did… could he even be brave enough to allow you in? Does he have the strength to accept a heart freely offered to him? Will the scars and darkness within him allow him to accept such pure and unconditional love? He can't possibly be selfish enough to ask you to take the chance on him. You deserve to be with someone who is strong and complete – someone who can give you their whole being, wholly and unreservedly – not someone who is afraid of showing weakness, for fear of you leaving him broken-hearted. Someone who would actually have the capacity to love you like you should be loved. Not a broken, shattered shell of a Prince that could only ever give you pieces of his heart that are full of cracks.
Why the fuck does his chest hurt just thinking about the fact that you would be better off without him? It feels as if someone were stabbing his heart repeatedly, and no matter what he does, the wounds refuse to close and the blood continues to ooze through the cracks. He stares up at the dark ceiling of his dorm room as a single tear rolls down his cheek for the first time in years as he tries to cope with this excruciating feeling of hopelessness, despondency, and despair. The fear that you will one day be gone from his life grips his soul, his heart pleading with him to simply confess, yet his twisted mind forces him to remind himself of his inadequacy. What a sad, pathetic sight you would see, the once fearsome lion, pitifully pawing at your ankles as his heart poured itself at your feet, praying for the warmth of your love and the validation of your approval.
💛 Leona who is pining after you… hates how obsessed he is with you and your opinion of him. Every day he finds himself trying to be better because you make him want to try harder to make the world a brighter place. Maybe you're right, maybe he doesn't need to be King in order to lead people and do great things. Because of the friendship you two have nourished, he finally feels comfortable opening up to you and talking to you about what he's going through: his past, and how much he truly cares about everyone's safety, success, and overall happiness – a sentiment that's foreign to everyone who's ever known him in the past. Although he still can't bring himself to vocalize his emotions aloud, you now truly understand the message his eyes are always trying to relay, no matter how small the glimpse: even if he was destined for a fate in the shadows, his biggest hope is to someday become the leader he was supposed to be. His newfound vulnerability allows you to slowly chip off the armor that guards his heart and bring him peace, healing his wounded spirit. Because of you, he now understands what it feels like to be valued and treasured by another, and he feels empowered enough to put the effort into doing something to change his future for the better. It scares him how badly he wants to impress you, wanting you to be proud of how he's matured.
Before taking on the daunting task of bettering his Kingdom, he starts with something small – making a positive difference in your life. You actually make him feel useful. He loves the way you look up at him with admiration. He knows now that one of the reasons he fell for you so hard is because you always ask for his advice – knowing damn well he's the smartest person in this godforsaken place – and you actually take it. You listen to him and you value his opinions. Seeing things work out for the better when you take his advice and enact his plans gives him a rush of pride and confidence. It motivates him to keep working hard to have good ideas that benefit the world. He's always enjoyed helping people even though he's bad at putting it into words, or showing his true intentions, instead preferring to keep people guessing while he hides behind his indifference and nonchalant attitude. But now, thanks to you, he finds that the more time he spends caring about helping the people around him, the more understanding and honest he is with himself, the happier he becomes. He's feeling more confident stepping up to the plate, having less fear of letting himself or the other people he cares about down.
He started feeling honored to be the housewarden for Savanaclaw again and he actually takes the responsibility seriously, tackling issues and standing his ground with the students and teachers. He wants to set an example for others, making you proud of his actions by raising his standard. When it comes to issues in the school and within his territory, he's calm and diplomatic as he addresses issues – making sure everyone is heard and everyone walks away satisfied. No longer is he plagued by a lack of enthusiasm to make real, significant changes. He now genuinely enjoys himself, striving to go beyond his expectations to overcome his shortcomings, always pushing himself to think outside of the box. It's like the Leona of his past no longer exists, and he doesn't feel any resentment or shame at the thought, simply believing it's for the better that he finally has the strength to make room for a version of himself he can enjoy instead. Because of your guidance and patience with him, he’s slowly learning to no longer fight his introspective nature, instead choosing to work hard every day to embrace all aspects of himself – whether they be negative or positive. Every day is far from perfect, but he's allowing himself the respite of leaning on your shoulder, even though for now, it’s just as a friend and trusted ally, not as a lover. For the first time, he's happy with where his life is going and the person he is becoming. Through this whole experience of falling for you, he learned that there are still things worth fighting for, regardless of if you one day soon reciprocate his feelings or not. At least, that's what he keeps telling himself.
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I was nervous to write this because we all know that canon Leona leaves much to be desired when it comes to his story and the complexities of his character. I've spent over a year of loving him, meticulously crafting who I think he is and who I want him to be. Most days, I'm pretty sure Leona Kingscholar is just a character who exists solely inside of my mind, completely separate from the source material. So, if this resonates with you, I am very glad! Thank you for reading. I hope I was able to bring justice to my beloved Leona! If you would like to see this series with another character, please let me know. 💛 Erica Malleleothreesome
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mcondance · 1 month
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pretty brown eyes (quit breakin’ my heart); s14 spencer reid x fem!reader
fingering, in his lap in his driver’s seat, softdom!spence (it’s canon idc), i have only seen one ep of criminal minds so years of crushing on spence through edits and stuff are working overtime ☆ this was supposed to be just a quick thing just abt spencer’s puppy eyes but it turned into this whole thing so enjoy. mcon writing more than like 250 words? the spencer reid effect is crazy. ☆ title from pretty brown eyes by mint condition and i tweaked it a little to fit a motif in here okayokay enjoy
spencer’s eyes, wide and beautifully brown, are his key. he knows what he’s doing when he flashes them, makes them a thousand times more expressive than they usually are. 
he begs you with them, begs to have his favorite thing for dinner, begs you for a million kisses, and anything else you can think of. he’s dangerous.
but he’s even more dangerous when he’s using them to make you do something.
two fingers deep inside you, perched in his lap in the leaned-back driver’s seat of his car, you swear you could explode. his hands are practiced and precise and patient in their conquest.
your hand clamps around his wrist, trying futilely to do something, anything to control the shocks and waves building incessantly inside you. he’s too strong and you’re too weak and your hand only serves as something else to fuel him, to urge him to plunge his fingers ever deeper and rock his palm against your clit. his palm dampens with your wetness, joining his thighs beneath you and the expanse of your thighs too. 
“ah-” you borderline heave.
“mhm,” he hums, his chest rumbling under you. 
the car’s silence sets a perfect backdrop for your runaway whines and whimpers, “i can’t” and “spence” and “uh uh, please” flowing from your lips like the water threatening to fall from your eyes. his fingers disappearing inside you make their own disgusting noise, too. 
spencer takes it all in, into that calculating mind of his, eyes moving from where his hand works between your legs to the hand you have clamped around his over your stomach, and resting on your face that holds a multitude of sensations and thoughts and feelings. 
you squirm a little, too strung out to move more than a couple centimeters but of course, he picks it up. brown eyes find yours as you feel his head turn and yours turns to him, and you’re fucked. so fucked.
“can you take it for me? hmm?” he’s making you. you couldn’t say no to those eyes even if you had the strength to. he’s cunning and you both know what he’s doing, but his eyes plead for you to let him play with you and your body cries yes and it’s sealed, you’re sealed and signed and delivered. 
“yeah,” you nod and keen, and his eyes soften ever more, snapping nerves through your body, and you tighten around his fingers, pulling another hum from his chest. 
he needs to kiss you, so he does. awkward angle and all, he leans and takes your lips into a kiss. he’s breathtaking and shit, his kiss has you as fucked up as his hand between your thighs, the focused and fluid motions of his fingers and palm melting your body onto his. 
sweat has you sticking to him, too, soaking through your shirt and his, and if you were more sober you’d thank him for not making it where you’d have to suffer through soaked underwear and shorts on the ride home. 
intoxicated, though, you squeeze your eyes shut and lean your head onto his shoulder, finally giving into the pleasure he’d spend lifetimes just giving to you. 
“good.” he states, abundantly pleased at the tension leaving your body. he hums again, drawing closer to your neck so he’s watching the view from where you bear witness. 
“you feelin’ good, baby? now that you’re all sweet f’me?”
“mhm-hmm,” you keen. you’d be a lie if you said it didn’t send heat and a thousand butterflies rising up through you, and even if you could lie, your body gives you away. again you dig your nails into his arm and the other finds his face, cupping his cheek and rubbing through his stubble, and it calms you down by proxy. he could crack a smile, now, and he does, a little grin spreading across his stupidly gorgeous face, a tease and poison and pleasure all in one methodical, pretty, dazzling genius.
again, your ears focus on the sound. and, damningly, his do too, you can feel it in the quickening of his hand and the deep rolling in his chest when his fingers and your cunt grow louder, ricocheting off his windows and bouncing back to grace two pairs of ears. it's vulgar and disgusting, but you both indulge in it like the purest water on earth.
it feels good to let spencer work you how he knows you like, to be the only thing he has going on in that brain of his.
the sparks that have been growing in you since spencer first laid his hands on you are starting to glide into fireworks, and you can’t run from it. it’s the opposite of what you want to do. now, laid bare and pathetic in spencer’s arms, you just want to cum for him, and everything that comes with it.
spencer knows, and he does nothing differently. consistency brings you to the edge and your head falls back to find his eyes, devout and resolute, clear in what he wants from you. you’re swimming in them, floating lazily through and he nods demandingly slow, and his request is fulfilled, his eyes are too beautiful and expressive and wanting for you to not cum.
cradled in his arms, you shiver with the pleasure of it, whines and sobs validated by spencer’s soft hum as he watches you unfold. shuddering, it flows through you and obeys the movements of spencer’s hand while he follows your bursting with parted lips and wondering eyes. 
as your breath returns to you, and the stars behind your eyes take their place back in the sky, your chest still heaves softly, sense and brains returning to you slowly. you open your eyes to find spencer’s staring right at you, soft with adoration and amused contentment.
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satoruwiki · 28 days
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"lemme see," sukuna says as you come to him, all keen and sunny, to show him your new lip combo.
you playfully pucker your lips into a smooch and giggle. "what do you think? pretty, right?" you ask, giddy to hear his answer.
he can't help but grin at your apparent excitement and eagerness for his praise. it's cute how ecstatic you can get for a bit of his approval—you must be really infatuated for him to act like a teenager in love. "pretty indeed," sukuna hums as his hand cups your chin, his thumb gently playing with your bottom lip. "you know where it'd look prettier, though? those pretty lips would look even prettier wrapped around my cock," he says, giving you a quick kiss followed by a shit-eating grin.
albeit he finds his words cunning and hilarious as fuck, you begin to question yourself why you fell for him. your brows knit into a frown, and your lips form a pout, not finding an ounce of humour in his words. "come on, it was funny!" sukuna rolls his eyes and scoffs.
"i'm being serious, 'kuna! i'm asking you if it looks good or not," you chastise, crossing your arms over your chest.
"i'm being serious too, baby! want me to prove it to you?"
"i told you it'd look prettier around my cock," sukuna huffs out with a cocky grin plastered on his face, guiding your movements down on his dick with his hand under your jaw, feeling his cock fill your tight little throat.
gulp after gulp, your lips smear the glossy lipstick around the smooth skin of his shaft down to the base. "feels good, baby?" sukuna coos, holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail. batting your wet lashes, you meekly nod and moan around him as you taste the artificial strawberry flavour of your gloss mixed with the saltiness of his precum on your tongue,
Squeezing your thighs together, you snake between them to relieve the ache your pussy is begging to be taken care of, which Sukuna rebukes, yanking your head back harshly. "hands off, don't think I can't see you trying to play with yourself," he says, slapping your cheek with his fat cock.
"ngh- but- please, suku-" you whine pleadingly, hoping to nudge something inside him to allow you to touch your throbbing clit.
"no buts, that pussy is only mine to touch," he pries your mouth open as he taps his bulbous head onto your lipstick-smeared lips, your mouth quickly getting to work sucking his tip fervently. sukuna hums in contentment as you go back to slobbering his dick, his thumb caressing your jaw in circular strokes, "such a needy girl," he purrs lowly, his voice dropping to an octave as your lewd ministrations on him elicits a groan from him.
it takes much control for him to not drop his head back, but he wouldn't miss this view for anything; your cute doe eyes watery with your ruined mascara staining your cheeks in black streaks as you sink down on him. such a nasty view deserves to be framed in a large photo somewhere in his flat, but you'd kill him if you knew about it. the memory engraved in his mind will be enough for when you are not with him.
a soft whine reverberates around his cock as your maw begins to ache. your tongue swirls around the stiff member lodged in your cavity, trying to ease the burning pain in your throat; you breathe through your nose, bringing your hands to play with your boyfriend's hefty breeder balls.
sukuna's abs began to clench and his legs to tremble as he felt close to his climax. the prominent veins around his dick began to throb as he suddenly pushed his cock fully down your throat, causing you to yelp and gag on him as thick ropes of cum painted your esophagus.
"fuckkk," sukuna groaned in ecstasy, pulling his twitching and flaccid cock out of your mouth, cleaning the fine thread of saliva mixed with semen off your swollen lips with his hand. "open," he instructed, which you obeyed, showing him the nasty white mess he had made in your mouth.
being such a good girl for him, sukuna rewarded you, pulling you into a sloppy and messy kiss, not caring to taste himself in you as he tangled his wet muscle with yours.
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st4rrth0ughts · 3 months
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There's not enough sub!Sampo out there thank you for writing it <3 I just want to put him in a mating press and breed him. Maybe be his sugar daddy and make him wear slutty outfits. He's a whore (affectionatly)
a/n :aghsshsk anon you read my mind holy shit (+ tw, sampo being a little shit) [edit, sorry for the long ass wait, anon, i lost motivation T-T
Sampo being fucked silly by sugar daddy reader. 💎💚
Its a match made in heaven, whether the unspoken feelings between you two went unsaid or not. You wanted company, and had too much money for yourself to spend alone. Sampo was more than willing to be the one for you to dote on. Its pretty nice, coffee dates, spoling your purple haired sweetheart, you could say that the cunning man knew the effect he had on you. But sometimes, he steps out of line, flirting with other people, even he needs some punishment.
You knew Sampo was probably doing this just to get on your nerves. Its no secret that he's always turned on by you manhandling him in the bedroom like he was a toy. Perhaps the last straw for you was when he sent you photos while you were at work, with your pretty sugar baby in a outfit that made your cock bulge embarrassingly large in your pants. He was making a lewd face at the camera, a vibrator shoved into his pussy with the caption, wish it was you inside me, sweetheart <33. When you get home, he's protesting as you drag and lock him in the bedroom, but the glint in his eyes tell you that he knew damn well this would happen.
Fuck him in that outfit he was wearing earlier, tears pricking his eyes as you stuff the vibrator into his cunt, turning it at max speed while he whimpers and begs you to have mercy on him, saying he'll be your good boy. Well, too late for that, you think as he throws his head back, squirting hard around the toy, as you gently coo and let it continue to overstimulate him, fingers finding their way to trace over his nub, making him arch against the bed like a cat in heat. His eyes are wide open as he throws his head back, his arms restrained by the handcuffs bounding him to the bed post.
Reaching down and burying your face into his cunt, your tongue plunging into his cushy walls, making him squeal and pull agaisnt his restraints so hard its bruising his wrists. Despite all that, he's still being a good boy and keeping his legs open for you to ravish him, and your all too happy to oblige. Stuffing another finger into his pussy as you find spots so deep in him the thief is seeing stars as he bucks his hips into the air. He lets out a pretty wail when you shove your length into him at one go, his stomach bulging from the sheer size of you, which is something he'll never get used to.
Fondle his tits as your cock pounds into him from behind as he arches his back harshly, he’ll claw at the sheets, your back, your arms, but it’s futile as your hands maintain their grip on his waist, your mouth and soft lips roaming over his neck. His cunt is dripping while his head lolls back, dazed eyes looking back at you. lifting him up from the bed as your hands hold him, his legs dangling over the ground limply as your cock hits all the right spots deep in him, his cum leaking around you and forming a small pool on the carpet, his hands trying to claw at your arms as he whines out for you to stop, only to cry softly when you actually do show signs of slowing down, stuffing two fingers down his throat to muffle him as he’s left midair being fucked silly by you.
Getting him into a mating press while he panics slightly at how deep you push into him, your cock fits so much nicer like this, and he shrieks when you start to fuck his cervix. His hands held above him in a firm grasp as he tries to struggle away from you, begging for a break as your length splits him open again, loud wails and sobs filling the room as his knees are folded to his chest, aeons, he can feel you fucking his cervix so harshly that the bed is creaking from your movements. he comes undone with a sharp moan, his body laying limp against the pillow, but oh dear, your not done with him. Your sure he can handle just a few more rounds for his daddy, cant he?
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gojossocks · 1 month
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New Romantics
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Gojo x reader 𐙚 Genre: fluff, comedy, hurt/comfort 𐙚 Summary: You are the bane of Gojo's existence, at least that's what he tells himself. You're just full of surprises and he can't help but be fully enamored by you. 𐙚 wc: 8.5k 𐙚 content: kinda enemies to kinda lovers, a bunch of high schoolers, gojo is soo out of touch with his feelings, it's in his pov, gojo is sooo down bad, PINING, badass reader, reader is in a clan too! reader smokes ! kinda screams im not like other girls in a less toxic way, jealous! gojo, heavy make out, very self-indulgent HAHA can be read as a standalone. 𐙚 a/n: my first ever series ! it's kinda long but i swear it's fun! :D
series masterlist | prologue
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Arrogant. Insufferable. Patronizing. Apathetic. 
The list goes on. 
Granted, Gojo is nowhere near close to you. You were barely friends.
If there is one person in Jujutsu High that he likes the least, it would be you. It’s not like he resents you, it’s just that you represent  everything he hated from being in a clan just like him.
From the way you strut your very expensive loafers to the way you shop to your heart’s content after every mission since your first year. Not to mention that you’re the all-perfect princess that your clan wants you to be. 
“Gojo, please pass me the p-“
“No can do, shorty.”  He chirps, giving you a shit-eating grin. 
You glared at him before motioning Shoko to hand you the pen instead. “Gojo, you know you kinda look like someone I like.”  You didn’t let him finish, crossing your arms before giving him a devilish smirk. “That cute little rat from Shrek.” 
Gojo’s eyes widened at your insult but Suguru and Shoko were already snickering at him. He despises the idea that everyone seems to adore you, except him of course.
In the eyes of the higher ups and your family, you were the sweetest girl ever. Somehow, you’re always growing horns around him. 
Everyone thinks that Gojo’s only messing with you whenever the two of you banter. Hell, there are some students gossiping that he has a crush on you (which he definitely doesn’t) But only Geto and Shoko know how much he actually dislikes you.
You seem so obedient with all your clans orders, following everything that’s asked of you, carrying the submissiveness and elegance a Y/L/N is supposed to have. And if there’s anything Gojo hated the most, it’s tradition. It’s why he’s in Jujutsu High in the first place, he wanted to change the system badly— and seeing you become the embodiment of the tradition he badly wants to change pisses him off. 
Each time the higher ups get mad at him for not being in his ‘best behavior’, your name is constantly echoed around the meeting room. ‘You should be more like Y/L/N’ ‘Bring honor to your clan like how Y/L/N does.’ 
The only act of rebellion that you do is that your hair is dyed in a way that would make the higher ups frown. Your hair is recently dyed bright orange. He finds himself scoffing at the idea that you only get scolded because of a damn hair color. Gojo’s also confused with how cunning and sassy you are when there aren’t any prying eyes. Maybe you’re just doing that to seem cool. 
Well, he just has to avoid you at all costs so you would stop annoying him and pestering his thoughts. 
Unfortunately for him, Yaga has different plans. 
“Satoru. Y/N.” Yaga announces when he was pairing up students for a mission but he doesn’t even get to finish because Gojo emits a loud dramatic groan from across the room. 
“Why?” He whined, tilting his head up to create a dramatic effect. “It’s always been Suguru and I.” 
“Satoru, you and Suguru need to be paired up with someone who's an expert in reversed curse technique. It’s your fault you haven’t learned it yet.”  
Gojo crossed his arms and pouted. “Y/N can kiss my ass, teacher.” 
“No thanks. I’m sure you don’t wash yours. I could smell you from afar, stinky.” Everyone else groaned as the two of you started another banter, forcing the meeting to be 5 minutes longer than usual— particularly because no one dares to cut off your argument (Yaga is too amused because of how much you put Gojo in his place.) 
-.-
The mission didn’t go well. It was the first time you and Gojo worked together, and judging by your huge egos, your banter caused the both of you to get injured– you more so than Gojo. He was too reckless today, attempting to get a reaction out of you, which is why he got caught off guard when a 1st grade curse attacked him.
You pushed him out of the way, causing the curse to land a hit on your shoulder and right arm. Gojo stood still in his place in shock and your right arm was already injured when he snapped out of  his trance. He obliterated the curse easily but the damage has been done. 
You’re just lucky it was a minor injury but the fact that you did that for him, considering how you two were at each other’s necks for the longest time confuses him. It disoriented him until the both of you arrived at Jujutsu High. 
When he got patched up, he stood up to apologize but you were nowhere to be found. He assumes you’ve already healed yourself due to your reverse curse technique ability but he can’t help the nagging feeling in his mind. 
You were quiet today— well, ever since this afternoon. And no he’s not keeping track, he’s just not used to not hearing your snarky remarks and sarcastic comebacks at his attempts to annoy the shit out of you.
You’re just ignoring him, giving short insults in response to his own for the most part of your mission until you shielded him from that curse. 
His guilt weighs on him heavily as he strolls around the school, waiting for Shoko and Geto. but really it’s just to see you. Gojo had noticed that you’re always gone the moment after your mission’s debriefing, sometimes even when you’re injured. 
At last, he saw you just a few blocks away from Jujutsu High, towards the new 7/11 store that opened a few months ago. Gojo tilts his head to the side and furrows his eyebrows before deciding to follow you as discreetly as he could.
He stood near a house behind the convenience store where he could be hidden by a large plant beside it. He watched you grab a few things off the shelves and talk with the cashier, who happily greets you at the counter. You must’ve been here frequently. 
1 can of coke. A box of cigarettes. Coffee. 
Gojo never took you as the type who would visit a convenience store, as shocking as that sounds. He knows you’re rich. Filthy rich. You’ve always been pampered just like him, everything down at your feet because you’re the most powerful sorcerer in your clan. 
Finally, you got out of the store. Gojo’s eyes widened like saucers when you went straight to his hiding spot. 
“You know,” You called out, putting a hand on your hip.  “It surprises me how much of an idiot you are despite being a notorious smartass. Your hair sticks out of the leaves because you’re so fucking tall, Gojo.” 
“Heh.” He rubs his nape sheepishly, offering you a shy grin. “Didn’t think you’d see me.”  
“Really?” You deadpan before walking away from him, back to Jujutsu High. He jogs up to your side. “Why are you hiding anyway? Spying on your rival or something?” 
“Maybe.” He says lightly. It’s the first time any of you are talking normally to each other without malice. “Where are you going?” 
“Somewhere.” 
“Can I come?” He insisted, voice filled with excitement, leaving no hint that he’s gonna stop following you.  A smile tugs at the corner of your lips.
He looks like a puppy, following you around. It’s an amusing sight, even to  you. 
“No.”  You still kept walking, paying no mind as Gojo continued to follow you.
He feels an unusual giddiness at the thought that you hadn’t outright pushed him away because if you really wanted to, you would have told him to leave. 
You lead him to the abandoned fence with the sign ‘DO NOT ENTER’ in the restricted building of the school that had remained under construction for years. It was the tallest building in Jujutsu High. You wordlessly went up to the concealed stairs at the obscured side of the building and onto the rooftop. 
You sat at the edge of the building, your feet dangling off the edge. Gojo cautiously followed your actions, opting to sit next to you. He observes you as you unravel bit by bit and it’s the first time he’s seen you this relaxed and vulnerable—something that you granted him the privilege to see.
Rummaging through your paper bag, you retrieved a can of his favorite drink, Coca-Cola. As you handed it to him, a subtle surprise flashed across his face before he muttered a sincere ‘thanks. 
You then opened your box of Marlboro red and lit up a cigarette, putting it in between your lips before taking a drag. Gojo observes you silently, his mouth agape.  It was a revelation, discovering facets of you that he never anticipated. The act of you casually smoking, the ember casting a faint glow on your features, added another layer to the enigma that you are. 
Gojo stays silent for a few  more minutes or so until you notice his confusion, mainly because his eyebrows are almost meeting and he’s staring intently into the abyss. 
“Are you broken or something? You usually never stop yapping.” You joked, bumping your shoulder to his. 
“I didn’t know you smoked.” Gojo says dumbfoundedly. 
You chuckled but his question was left unanswered. He forgets about it completely because his brain short circuits when you move closer to him, taking off his sunglasses and perching it atop his head. His radiant baby blue eyes are out staring at you intently.
You give him a soft smile and point at the view in front of you. “I love going here after missions, sunset’s beautiful here.” 
“you’re being nice to me. Why?” 
Again. No answer. You just hummed in amusement and no words were spoken afterwards. 
The sun begins to descend, casting a warm, golden glow over the view from below. The city sprawls out beneath the both of you and the skyline extends into the horizon, bleeding in hues of pink and orange. Both of you sit in silence and when Gojo turns to look at you, he feels his heart beat quickening every passing second.
You look so breathtaking as the remaining sunlight kisses your skin, creating a halo effect around you. He suddenly doesn’t know why his palms feel so sweaty and he can’t manage to land a punchline to make you roll your eyes playfully at him. 
“I’m sorry I got distracted. Thank you for saving me today. I didn’t know you’d be more…” He trails off and you cut him off with a laugh so pretty enough that his head whipped to turn to you. 
“Kind? Human? You think I’m just like my clan huh?” You giggled and it shocked him how light you’re taking the situation.
You must’ve gotten used to it.
Just like him.
You stayed silent for a while before speaking in a serious tone. “Just because I don’t defy my clan’s ideals freely as you do doesn’t mean I’m not against it. When you’re a woman, you have to play nice, you know? I don’t have much of a choice unlike you. I know you don’t like me but I shielded you because you’re my friend.”
It was a wonder for Gojo that he’s the only one you’re not on good terms with out of everyone in Jujutsu High. Hell, he even overheard Yaga asking you to call back those Kyoto Students. It’s a big deal because those pesky Kyoto Students are usually their rivals but for some reason they’re always looking for you.
Then comes the Tokyo students, whom he never sees not greeting you or asking to hang out with you. Come to think of it, their expressions are always brightening up whenever you’re around and he thought that maybe they’re not that welcoming to him because he’s loud. But it’s you. It’s all you. 
From the way you listen intently to your friends, and your saccharine voice asking them about their day or whatever that piques their interest. You care, a lot. You even saved him from that grade 1 curse, resulting in a painful wound on your shoulder. Granted, you had the ability to heal yourself but who was he even in your life? and yet you took the fall for him. 
Gojo always hated that everyone seemed to look at him as that ‘six-eyed kid from the Gojo clan’. He hated the rumors about him just because of your last name— something that he has done to you since the first time you stepped foot into the school. 
He swallows his guilt and sets his pride aside. He wanted nothing more than to make it up to you.  “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’ve read you wrong. I thought you were just like the rest of them.”  
“It’s alright.” You say nonchalantly as possible but the voice crack at the end gives you away. Gojo chooses to ignore that. This probably means a lot to you as much as it did to him. “I mean I get it, I actually admire your passion for changing the way our clans lead the Jujutsu World. I think you have the guts for standing up to them just like that.”
“You really think so?’ He scoots closer and gives you a small smile, his heartbeat quickening faster as he feels your warmth— your thighs almost touching. 
“Yeah.” You grinned back, leaning your wait to his side before taking a sip from your coffee. 
“So you think I’m pretty?” He looks at you and bats his eyelashes comedically.
You snorted in response and slapped his arm lightly.  “I’ll throw you off this building.” 
Gojo forgot the passage of time in those 4 hours at that rooftop. The sun had already set and the moon was gleaming, already dark out. He likes talking to you but he enjoys it more when you’re the one doing the talking. 
You talked about your school life, hobbies, even your life with your clan– anything that comes to mind. Talking to you is as easy as breathing. You’re just full of wisdom, kindness, and wit.
Gojo found out today that he actually likes making you laugh, something about it makes his stomach feel funny. He also found out your preferences in coffee, food, and even music. 
“Don’t you dare tell that spot to anyone, Gojo.” You took one of the sweets in his hands and popped it in your mouth before giving him a teasing grin.
You’re now walking side by side on the way to the dormitory. He insisted on walking you to your dorm even if his dorm is from the other side of the building. 
A chuckle escaped his lips as he matched your stride. “Yes, Ma’am.”  He replied with a teasing voice, earning a hum of approval from you. You finally stopped in front of your door. 
“Thank you Goj-” 
“Satoru.” He cut you off,  his voice suddenly softening. As you tilted your head inquisitively, he found himself breaking into another warm smile.  His cheeks ached from smiling too much this evening. “You can call me Satoru instead.” 
“I like saying Gojo, especially when I yell your name when I’m mad at you.” 
“Are you mad at me right now?” He wiggles his eyebrows, earning a playful roll of your eyes in response. 
“No.” 
His demeanor shifted then, almost like he’s surrendering his vulnerability to you. “Then call me Satoru.” You could almost hear the plea in his voice. 
You sigh in mock defeat, your lips curved into a smile as you relented to his request. “Okay, Satoru.”
-.-
“You’re barely hanging out with me anymore, Satoru. Have you found my replacement already?” Suguru says, smirking as he watches his best friend’s eyes widened— a blush adorning Satoru's cheeks.
Satoru fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, causing Suguru to smirk at him. This behavior definitely did not go unnoticed by his best friend. Rarely did Satoru ever get nervous and Suguru was all for it. 
“I was just busy, Suguru. You missed me that much? I didn’t know I am participating in a homosexual relationship with you—”  He retorted, attempting to deflect Suguru. 
But Suguru wasn’t one to let him off the hook easily. “Busy hogging Y/N?” 
Satoru scoffed, giving him a look of disbelief. “Pffft. Nah. Of course not. We’re friends!” He insisted, though the way his gaze momentarily flickered away betrayed a hint of something more.  
It has been nearly 6 months since that evening on the rooftop. Satoru and you have been attached to the hip ever since— or to phrase it better, Satoru has been attached to you ever since. Somehow, you’re a lot more similar than he thinks and because of that, you just know each other a lot deeper.
He also finds himself doing things out of pure interest like walking with you to the 7/11 store after mission just to talk to you til dusk on that rooftop, completely forgetting about his friend group’s game nights. Other times, he reaches for your wrist to encourage you to mingle with other people. He even accompanies you to your monthly shopping sprees in the city or in Shinjuku or Shibuya. He found out you love traveling and going to other places— it clears your mind, you had said. His closet is now full of clothes you helped him pick out, almost half of them you bought for him randomly. 
It’s normal for friends to do that, right? 
Seated side by side, Satoru and Suguru observed how you and Shoko practiced your reverse cursed technique. Satoru’s just munching on the sweets you bought for him while his best friend is clearly enjoying the view of how dumbstruck he is by you. 
“Satoru,” he began. “You’re always following her around, it’s like you’re glued to each other already and you even fell asleep together during movie nights more than 3 times already. The only time you’re not with her is when you’re on missions with me or lunch. Are you already secretly dating?” 
“Yeah, we’re not!” Satoru says swiftly and defensively, causing Suguru to raise an eyebrow at him. “Why are you keeping count anyway?” 
 “Sure, just friends.” Suguru insisted, attempting to downplay the whole situation but Satoru is already growing agitated with the way he’s being teased.  Suguru gave him a devilish smirk.  “What if she dates another guy?” 
Satoru shuts up for a minute before muttering a quiet  “… She won’t.” 
“You don’t sound sure. She eventually will.” Suguru gave him an all-knowing smile and that’s when he knew that Suguru was being serious. 
“Huh?”  Satoru furrowed his eyebrows, casting an accusing look at his best friend.  “How are you so sure?” 
“Shoko said she’s going on dates.” 
Oh. 
So that’s why he’s been seeing you less, and you seem so distracted whenever you guys would hang out. Satoru thought that you were just busy but he didn’t think you’d actually go on dates with anyone. I mean, you’re still young right? Besides, who would be deserving of you?
Satoru didn’t notice that he was staring daggers into Shoko as you hugged her tightly. His expression darkened, jealousy flashing in his eyes before softening as he heard you laugh. 
Pretty. 
You look so pretty. 
Since when did he find you incredibly pretty?
Sure, you were just friends but he doesn’t know why he has this urge to be with you all the time, he even wants to hug you like how you hug Shoko and Utahime. It’s just unfair that you only lean to him or give him a fist bump or when you fall asleep with your head on his shoulder.
He longs to hold you close, to see you every morning, and to be the person that makes you laugh all the time.  
And when you noticed him staring you beamed at him and waved. 
Oh, he definitely has a crush on his friend. 
He didn’t know how much time passed but soon enough his day wouldn’t be completed without seeing you. He actually looks forward now to the meeting with different plans, particularly because you were there with him. And he basically lives now in your dorm room, candy wrappers everywhere and an array of his glasses sit beside your bedside table.
You talk about anything, even the random thoughts that come to his mind. You managed to know him better than Suguru knows him, which is surprising by the way. 
But during the past week, he surprisingly didn’t see you— not even at the rooftop that you both had grown to hang out together. Suguru told him that he acts like he has a ‘stick up his ass’ but he was just worried about you. Have you grown tired of him? It all made him fidget like crazy. 
Satoru caught a glimpse of your bright blue hair after your mission with Suguru. It was the kind of blue that matches his eyes. But he didn’t pay attention to it that much because of your sullen look.
He tried looking for you at the convenience store or your dorm but you were already gone so his last bet is at the rooftop, and there you are.
Your back is facing him with your feet dangling off the edge, you seem to be in your own world judging by the loud music he’s hearing. There are two packs of cigarettes by your side and a can of your favorite coffee. The sun is almost setting again and you’re just staring ahead while you hum along to the song you're listening to. The view seems so… sad. He felt something tug at his heart strings. 
“You know you should quit smoking. if you keep it, you’ll never see me old handsome.”  He tried to joke off before climbing the edge to sit next to you. He took off his glasses before wincing at the view, it was too bright so he decided to put it on again. 
You giggled in response,  he can tell that you saw right through him when you had a soft look in your face.  The both of you hadn’t quite reached the stage where you’re entirely comfortable with opening up to one another.
So he tried to lighten up the mood once more, “It actually diminishes your ability as a sorcerer.” 
“Says who?” 
“Says yoda” He responded rhetorically before giving you a lopsided grin.  
You nodded before taking out your lighter to light up your cigarette.   “I only smoke when I’m stressed.” You confessed.
“Oh?” Satoru asks 
“Yeah” You smiled at him, taking a drag from your cigarette, sighing when the nicotine hit your system. 
“Then we’ll do something else, yeah?” He grinned at you mischievously before pointing his index. “Wait.” 
With a quick rummage through his pockets, he brought out a handful of brightly colored lollipops, their wrappers crinkling softly in his hand. 
“What do you have in mind?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him. 
Satoru extended his hand, offering you a lollipop with a playful wink. “Something sweeter?” 
He gives you a toothy grin—his eyes sparkling when you take it, shaking your head at his enthusiasm.
“This is ridiculous,” You laughed, amused by his antics as you unwrapped the sweet treat and popped it into your mouth. 
“It works, right?” Satoru asked eagerly. 
He’s been searching for alternative ways for nicotine but he couldn’t find any gum in the 7/11 store. Lollipops are his last choice. 
“I don’t know. Isn’t it gum that lessens the nic addiction?”  You countered, bumping your shoulder against his. 
“Lollipops are an alternative,” He says defensively, though a hint of concern crept up to his face.  “Are you okay?”  
“Yeah, uhm. It just gets tiring sometimes, you know?” You responded, bitterness lacing your voice. “ All the pressure. Sometimes I feel like I’m not treated humanely at one point.” 
“Hey. I’ll help you okay?” He placed a hand on your shoulder before offering you a soft smile. “When you’re with me, you don’t have to please those old geezers.” 
“I appreciate it, Satoru.” You smiled back at him and he found himself melting in your gaze. The sun be damned, he could live alone in your presence.
You decided to leave when it’s already half past eight. Once he helped you to his feet you looked at him shyly, and if it’s a bit lighter out he would see a blush creeping up to your face. The walk back to your dorm is silent again, your hands just occasionally brush and Satoru wondered if you think about holding his hand too. 
So when you let him in your dorm like you usually do. Satoru hesitated for a moment before he mustered up the courage and asked, “Is it okay if I hug you?” 
He noticed you freeze and he feared that he might have overstepped, but before he could retract his words, you’re already nodding and he instinctively wrapped his arms around you. Satoru hears you sigh in the hug and he feels like he’s floating when you tug him closer.
Satoru prayed silently that you couldn’t hear the loud thumping of his heart because he finally has you in his arms and this is all he wanted. The warmth of your body against his, the way you leaned into his touch, it all felt surreal to him. 
You’ve finally let your guard down around him and he noticed you gradually open up to him when you’re feeling sad or disappointed with something. Somehow he can’t bring himself to be like that to you yet, Satoru has this underlying feeling that you’d like him less if he starts showing vulnerability. 
But to his surprise, he feels like you like him more because of that. There was this instance where he’s so overstimulated after a mission because he had to take off his glasses to work on his six eyes. He started to become dizzy and everything around him was a blur.
As he sat on the couch, feeling utterly overwhelmed and disoriented after the mission. Despite his attempts to mask his discomfort with a feeble smile, you saw right through him, as you always seemed to do.
“Satoru, are you okay?” Your voice cut through the haze of his senses, casting him a worried glance.
He managed a strained smile before the brightness around him intensified, sending a sharp pang through his temples. "I'm...I'm fine," he mumbled.
“Satoru, you’re not a good liar.” You stood up to turn off the lights, only leaving the night lamp on, a soft glow illuminating the entire room, making it bearable for Satoru. He’s rubbing his temples, trying to ease the pain. 
He feels a weight dip in the couch, you gently remove his glasses and place them on the nearby table. Then, without warning, your arms enveloped him in a warm embrace, guiding his head to rest against the crook of your neck, fully covering his eyes.
Now that he’s calmed down, Satoru became acutely aware of the closeness between you. He’s lucky that you can’t see how his eyes widened at your action and how flushed he probably looks right now. Well, not that he can see anything right now. 
But he chooses to ignore the loud beating of his heart again, passing it off as adrenaline rush from the mission. He allows himself to relax in your hold, with your fingers threading softly through his hair, all his worries and fatigue melted away. 
Gojo Satoru had never known romantic love, let alone had a crush on anyone. So maybe it was just normal for friends to hold each other when one is tired or in need of comfort.
He loves to play with your hand when both of you are alone, while he babbles about something random and outright weird just so he could ignore how you make him feel. He tries to ignore the blush creeping up on his face when you listen to him intently, like every word that he utters matters, no matter how ridiculous it was. His feet always drag him to you because after a long day, all he needs is cuddles from you— oh, and your soothing voice too.  
So really, what is this weight on his chest when Shoko announced that you’re going on a date? 
Why is he pouting suddenly, assaulting his food as he stabs it continuously while you are gushing about what to wear or what to say when he knows you just look so beautiful even without trying?
Isn’t he enough?
Satoru buys you stuff, he takes care of you, he knows everything about you. He’s always hanging at your dorm after school, you’re practically like a couple at this poi–
Shit. 
Maybe he does have a crush on you. 
“I don’t know why you’d bother going on a date, Y/N. Guys are basically disgusting.” 
“Says a guy.” You rolled your eyes playfully while going through your closet. 
Satoru’s getting desperate now, why are you so adamant to get on that date? 
Satoru felt a knot of desperation tightening in his chest as he watched you model your top three dresses.  The first dress, adorned with vibrant florals, seemed to scream "first date" with its playful charm. However, you quickly dismissed it as unsuitable for the dinner date you had planned. Next, you slipped into a simple yet elegant black bodycon dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. It was hard to ignore the bitterness he’s feeling— you getting dolled up for a random guy. 
But it was the final dress that truly captured his heart. As you twirled around to show him, the white silk fabric cascading gracefully around you, Satoru found himself momentarily breathless at the sight. Your awkward smile only added to the enchantment of the moment. You look so ethereal. 
"What do you think?" you asked, swaying gently as you admired yourself in the mirror.
"I—" Satoru cleared his throat, his voice suddenly dry as he struggled to find the right words. "I think I like the other one better, the black one," he managed to say, though his heart whispered otherwise.
You somehow listened to his advice and wore the black bodycon dress that he suggested.
You looked nothing short of breathtaking, a literal goddess. 
It was the longest 3 hours of his life, each passing minute feeling like an eternity as he anxiously wait for your return. Despite his best effort to distract himself by distracting Suguru, his thoughts kept returninhg to you— wondering if you’re having the time of your life with your date. 
A small part of him wishes that the date didn’t go well and you’ll just spent the rest of the evening eating sweets with him all the while casting funny remarks on your date but he wasn’t prepared when you came home with mascara running down your face, your lips curved into a pout, and your eyes puffy and red from crying. 
Without a word, Satoru stood up to engulf you in his arms, furrowing his eyebrows as you collapsed into him.  “What happened, Y/N?” 
He held you close, a surge of protectiveness flooding his senses as if an attempt to shield you from the world.
“He’s a misogynist, Satoru!” You cried, your voice cracking. “So full of himself! I thought he was kind and sweet but then he just started babbling about his clan and how good of a potential husband he is. As if I want to marry him!” 
“Who was he anyway?”  He gently wiped away your tears. 
“Naoya Zenin” You sniffled, playing with the hem of his shirt. “I’m sorry I’m staining your shirt.” 
“No, no.” He whispered, brushing away the strands of your hair on your face. 
He took a mental note to research on the guy that made you cry later on. He realizes that the sight that he despises the most is the sight of you crying. He never wants to see you like this, ever. 
“You said you like the beach right?” Satoru spoke out of the blue, his hand tracing circles on your arm. “Why don’t we go to one?” 
-.-
And that’s how Satoru managed to spend all of his monthly allowance in a week. He booked a flight for the 6 of you (of course he wouldn’t want you to get the wrong idea, he insisted it’s a vacation for the six of you— him, you, Suguru, Shoko, and even Utahime and Mei Mei because apparently you’re good friends with them too) 
So now here he is, about 200, 000 yen poorer. (help i don’t know if this is accurate) He wanted what’s best for you, so of course he’d spend a lot for you.  It was all worth it though, when he sees you in a baby blue bathing suit that he helped you pick out. No it was definitely not because it’s similar to the color of his eyes. Blue just suits you well. (Hence, he’s also suitable for you) 
“Satoru, you're going to catch flies if your mouth keeps hanging like that. Hey, are you also drooling?” Suguru pokes Satoru, who quickly straightens up when you look his way.
You gave him a sheepish smile, and he didn’t know what the fuck you’re doing to him because he feels a hard on coming his way.  Shoko notices Satoru’s flushed expression but she just continues to smoke, clearly enjoying the show. 
Eventually, everyone agrees to swim in the beach and try on the jet skis that Satoru had rented. What he didn’t know though, was the fact that you’re afraid of the ocean.
You were just hugging yourself while the waves crashed against your feet. The sight looks so cute but he wants you to enjoy it, so he uses his tactics to get you to join the group.
Unfortunately for him, you’re so stubborn to stay on the shore. 
“I don’t want to go, Satoru! It’s not funny! I might get eaten alive by megalodon sharks or something.” 
“C’mon! I’m really tall, I can protect you! Jesus, here—”  His hand intertwined with yours, causing you to blush profusely. “Just hold my hand, okay?  Hell, hold onto me if you like. I can carry you!”
“Your hands are uhm, really warm.” You commented, your voice tinged with embrassment. 
“Oh yeah?” He smirks at you, his gaze locking with yours. “You want me to warm you up?” 
“I’m gonna kill you.”  You deadpanned. 
Despite your protests, you ended up trusting him to pull you in the deeper part of the ocean. He even managed to get you to ride the jetski with him, the grip you had on his waist nearly suffocating him.
Satoru didn’t want to focus on the closeness between you two— your body pressed up against his back. If he does, he might lose control and drop the both of you into the ocean. 
Meanwhile, the rest of the group is observing the two of you while sipping on their Margaritas.
“God, these two.” Mei Mei muttered as she rolls her eyes. “Best slow burn romance I’ve ever seen for free.”
If anyone would glance at you and Satoru, they would immediately think you’re dating, but you’re not and it’s frustrating to anyone within your radius. 
Besides her, Shoko chimed in, her voice laced with amusement.   “It’s so painfully obvious that they like each other. They were comparing hand sizes earlier for god’s sake.” 
“Yeah, they should just fuck already.” 
-.-
“Okay, so you kiss the person the bottle’s pointing at.” Utahime explained excitedly, albeit a bit drunk.
Everyone’s gathering around the crackling bonfire bonfire, the warm glow casting dancing shadows across the sand.  It was now nearing midnight and you decided to play a game to end the night, which is spin the bottle. You spent all afternoon swimming and riding the jet skis Satoru rented. 
Satoru felt a bead of sweat form on his brow as the bottle nearly lands you and Suguru.
He wanted your first kiss to be with him, as selfish as that sounds. He internally cursed Shoko for suggesting this game. 
It landed on Shoko and Utahime, then Shoko and Suguru, then Mei Mei and Utahime. 
His nervousness escalated as the game continues. Satoru was busy praying that the bottle wouldn’t land on you and anyone that he failed to notice when the bottle finally came to a stop, pointing directly at you and him. 
“Ooooh” Utahime teased you, playfully poking your arm. “It’s you and Gojo!” 
You laughed nervously, shooting a helpless glance in Satoru’s direction. He wanted to protest but his curiosity outweighed his embarrassment. 
He wanted to know how it feels like to kiss you. 
Besides, it’s just a kiss, right? 
Satoru was stunned when you hurriedly pecked him on the lips before you retreated back to your seat. His mind raced as he tries to process the fleeting touch.
He just kissed you. 
He couldn’t believe it when you looked back at him with a subtle smile playing in your lips.  
The rest of the night was a blur for him, not because he was drunk. Satoru’s a lightweight and you know that fact, that’s why you were drinking for him.
While everyone else is playing games and talking about anything, his mind is still stuck on the fact that you kissed him
You’re his first kiss.
And he's yours too,
The gods had answered his prayers.  But that was barely a kiss in the first place, do you even want it or were you just pressured to do it?
The thought stings. So he took a couple of sips from Suguru’s beer bottle until he was tipsy enough to not think about your lips on his. Yet, with each glance in your direction, the memory of your lips on his persisted. 
-.- 
Satoru helped you go to your room, even if he’s a bit drunk himself.  Both of you were stumbling on the way to your room, but he thankfully he managed to settle you down on the bed as gently as he could. His attempt to withdraw was no use as you pulled him down with you, your grip firm yet gentle as you clutched his hand in your sleep. 
Satoru admired your sleeping state, your hair sprawled out messily on the bed and you’re gripping his hand.
Your mouth slightly open as you slept, emitting soft rhythmic breaths but then you started mumbling something—it first it was incoherent until you mumbled in a slur,  “I think you’re cute.” 
“Huh?” Satoru questioned, even though he heard you clearly. He just want to hear it again from you. 
“I said I think you look like a sack of shit. Fuck you.”  You clarified, your words still slightly intelligible and laced with frustration and humor. 
“Uh-huh.” He replied, feigning ignorance, his heart fluttering at your words. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. Satoru brushed a few stray strands of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering momentarily against your skin. 
“You know,” You started, your words slurring as you looked at him with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my first kiss. It was really good even if it just lasted a second. Thank you for today, toru.” 
He laughed at your intoxicated state. You just look so adorable when you’re relaxed like this, the way your features softened and your laughter bubble up freely without a care in the world.
His gaze drifted to your lips, they seemed to beckon him to give in.  He definitely wants to kiss you now. 
Satoru’s heart raced as he struggled to fight the urge to lean in, knowing that it was a dangerous game to play. You decided to take matters in your own hands, shifting closer to him, your face close enough that he could feel you breathe against him. 
“Please, ‘Toru.” You whispered, your lips barely touching. “Please kiss me again.” 
Who was he to deny you that? To deny you? 
When Satoru kissed you for the second time, he took his time to savor it. His hand reaches out to cup your cheek and brushes his lips against yours. 
Your lips are warm and soft, he wanted to kiss it for eternity. Literally. He feels like in cloud nine as he kisses you deeper, slipping his tongue inside as you parted your lips, earning a soft moan from you.
Satoru weight settled against you, your bodies pressed together, breathing heavily as he connected his lips against yours once more. 
You taste better than any candy he has ever tasted. He might just get addicted, drunk even. 
“We shouldn’t—” He sighs into your mouth. You whimpered when he pulled away, your sweet voice going straight through his dick. “I don’t want to do this like this.” 
“What” a kiss. “Do” followed by another, “You,” then another “Mean?” then another.
You were peppering kisses all over his face all the while carding your hand through his hair, tugging it a bit to earn a reaction from him. He almost lost it when you squeezed him through his boxers. 
Satoru managed to pull away which he clearly struggled on doing when you pout at him, lips swollen and covered with saliva and you’re looking at him with those damned doe eyes. 
He pecks your lips, both of your cheeks, and he places a final kiss on your forehead, afraid that if he does more, he won’t be able to contain himself.
Satoru wants his first time with you to be special, one that’s not hazy and easy to forget. He doesn’t want it to be a mistake, like what he knows the both of you would agree upon if you talked about it in the morning.
He wanted you to remember, have it engraved in your mind and body for weeks. Satoru wants you to want him as much as he wants you, and he can’t have that in a drunken mistake. 
As you both drifted together in your sleep, he held you close, his arms wrapping snugly around your waist. It was the best sleep he had in ages. 
-.-
Satoru’s fear came true when you pretended like nothing happened the next morning. When he awoke, it feels like last night never happened. Your side of the bed is fixed and the only proof that you were ver there was the ache he felt on his arm, where you were laying.  Sure, he was disappointed but he’s contented with anything you give him. As long as he has you by his side. 
The kiss never left his mind, though.
Not even when you reached third year and you drifted apart from him little by little. His feelings for you remains the same. 
When Satoru is paired up again with you for a mission in the second half of your third year, you seem different from the Y/N he remembers. Particularly because you act like the exact person that he met in your first year.
Only, you look dull.
There are heavy circles under your eyes, your lips are chapped, and you look like you’re barely holding it together. Not to mention the only words that you utter to him are only about the mission. 
He got too busy honing his skills with Suguru, but he would make time for you if only you asked. But it’s like you were gone, everytime he tried to look for you, you were nowhere to be found. It’s like he barely knows you anymore.
You started to ignore him at the beginning of the school year. He noticed that you dyed your hair back to its natural color and whenever he goes.
You became a ghost in a way, and he’s left with the pieces of you that you once had shared with him. Satoru desperately wants to reach you but how can he when you’re always away? He doesn’t see you in your meeting spot anymore, you’re not in your dorm, no one gets close to you. The only time he sees you is during meetings with the higher ups and your clan. 
There’s an ache in his heart that only you can heal. 
So before you can run away from him again, he followed your footsteps until you reached the 7/11 store across the street. So here you are scanning along the shelves of the store, even though he knows you already know what you’re going to buy.  You still haven’t noticed him, which is confusing on his part. You must’ve been so tired. 
Ah, an energy drink and a box of cigarettes. 
Well, maybe you’ve started avoiding him too because of that. You know he’s going to get worried. 
Satoru taps your shoulder, making you yelp. You were about to shout at him but your expression softened when you saw him. “Oh, it’s just you.” 
It’s the first time in months where he actually saw you up close. He misses you so much it actually makes him dizzy.  Satoru stares at you for a few minutes before you poked him. 
“Hello? Earth to Satoru?”
He hasn’t heard you say his name too in a while. It felt like a breath of fresh air 
“You dyed your hair back to its natural color.” He pointed out. 
You hummed in response before going to the drink section once more. He observes you skimming the shelves even though he knows what you’re going to buy.
You’re just passing the time because you’re too anxious to talk to him but you aren’t really good at small talks.   
So he does that for you.
As you mechanically scanned the shelves, your eyes not really registering the array of products before you, Satoru noticed the evident anxiety in your every move. Wanting to bridge the gap between you two, he seized the opportunity to make you smile. 
“ah yes, there’s some items on sale here.” He declared, rubbing his chin with his pointer and thumb comically. 
Your quizzical expression met his as you questioned, “I don’t see any.” 
Undeterred, Satoru held up a familiar item – your favorite coffee – and flashed a grin "Here," he insisted, pointing at the non-existent 'sale' label.
You raised an eyebrow at him. "It's on sale. Look. It says, 'buy one take me.'" He gestured to the imaginary tag with a theatrical flair, his infectious grin inviting you to roll your eyes at him. 
Finally, you gave him a smile and you threw your head back because you’re laughing so hard. “You’re ridiculous, Gojo Satoru.” 
Satoru's heart skipped a beat at the sight of your smile, a warmth spreading through him at the sight of your genuine laughter. He likes seeing you smile. He’d do anything to see you smile. Even if it’s making a fool out of himself.
You grabbed his favorite drink and 2 onigiris then you dropped your energy drink. You walked towards the counter with him following closely behind.
After you’ve paid for the food, you led him wordlessly to the back of the convenience store towards the small parking lot and you sat on the ground. 
“Besides, I can’t take you.”  You broke the silence, handing him his coca-cola with a tremulous smile. 
“What do you mean? You’ve already taken me for granted.”  Satoru attempts to joke, but his playful expression dropped when you gave him a sad smile. 
“I’m getting married next year after graduation.” 
Satoru suddenly felt as if the ground had dropped from beneath him. The news struck him like a blow to the chest, leaving him breathless. He chewed on his lip as he took in your confession.
So that’s why you’ve been busy.
That’s why the higher ups paid no mind to all of his minor mishaps. His heart and mind raced, why so soon? Are you really going to let them take away your right to decide who you’ll marry? 
“To who?”  He said quietly, fidgeting with the lid of his soda. 
“Naoya Zenin.” 
A wave of disbelief washed over Satoru’s face. He had only met the guy once but he knows that Zenin is an absolute prick, not to mention a misogynist and a weakling. He even made you cry on a date. But he tried to relax his jaw and stay composed for you. “Do you want to marry him?”
“No.” Your answer was swift, the word laden with a weight he could feel in his bones. 
“Then don’t.” Satoru says firmly. Both of you fell silent for a while, you being defeated with the destiny your clan have paved for you.  
Could he really let you go just like that? To a Zenin asshat nonetheless?
He had always imagined that the two of you would eventually end up together, you have all the time in the world after all. So why does it feel like you’re already slipping out of his arms?  He’s not even sure if you like him, despite what Suguru and Ieri keep telling him. 
His train of thoughts were interrupted when you leaned your head on his shoulder. His arm instinctively finds its way around you, as if shielding you from your clan, from the world.  “I wish it were that simple. Nearly everything I do for my family is never what I want. I simply can’t not do it, Satoru. I need it to keep my clan powerful and relevant. I’m the only daughter of my parents. I have to do my best to make them proud.” 
“Well…” He stammers a little bit when your hand finds a way to play with his hair.  “what about what you want?” 
“Satoru, you know my freedom is limited." You laughed bitterly. “I’m still Y/L/N’s golden child and my clan’s on the brink of exclusion at this point. We’re irrelevant now and I’m not getting any stronger or richer. My family wants to take their place in the Jujutsu World. This is something I can’t escape from anymore even if I’d rather die than to be married to someone like him.” 
“Why Naoya Zenin though?” He’s getting frustrated at this point. Why were you not fighting back? Satoru couldn’t accept that, you relinquishing your freedom for the sake of others. You have already done so much. 
“He’s from a well-off clan and he’s strong.” you replied, a note of bitterness tainting your words. “My dad’s also biased with the Zenin clan so… I’m all set.” 
Well, he’s a Gojo and he is the strongest.  He is the inheritor of the six eyes anyway. Who is Naoya Zenin compared to him?  
“Well then, can you marry someone else that’s also strong?”
You scoffed, your hand leaving his hair before you prompt to fully lean your entire weight on Satoru’s side. “Yeah, but I don’t have much of a choice in the matter. Who else would I mar-” 
It’s now or never. 
“Me.”  Satoru blurted out. 
“What?” 
“Me. you should just marry me instead.” 
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