#but maybe 'better late than never' is better than nothing?

[envysparkler]

Clark swore he only turned away for a moment but when he looked back, there was a silhouette in the formerly empty corner.  He jumped, inhaling sharply, before he registered the bat cowl.

“Do you have to sneak up on people?” Clark asked, half irritation, half relief as he willed his heart to slow down.  He was Kryptonian, but the Bat of Gotham was another beast entirely.  Clark was giving serious thought to Hal’s claim that the Bat was a spook.

Surely a man like this couldn’t be human.

Batman’s expression shifted imperceptibly under the cowl and Clark could practically hear the terse ‘well maybe if you were aware of your surroundings’.  Batman didn’t voice it aloud, he never voiced it aloud, but the weight of his disdain was apparent.

Clark blew out a sharp breath, “So, what are you here for?”  He tried to remember if there was any activity near Gotham lately—nothing would step on Batman’s toes quite as much as breaking his one rule—

“Kon-El.”

Clark tensed all the way up.  He couldn’t help it, it had been over two years since he’d found Kon, but he was still overprotective of the kid.  With a megalomaniac for a father and the end of a species for his legacy, Kon had a weighty burden to shoulder, and Clark would absolutely protect him from it as much as possible.

“What about Kon?” Clark asked levelly.

“He propositioned Tim.”  The words nearly came out in a hiss and Clark blinked.  Kon had told him of his plan to ask Tim out, Clark’s discreet inquiries seemed to conclude that the boy fancied Kon back, Clark couldn’t see what the problem was.  Tim was seventeen, six months senior to Kon, and he had dated previously.

Which meant that either this was a gay thing or a meta thing.

“So?” Clark leaned back, narrowing his eyes as he kept his voice deliberately casual.  “What about it?  I think they’d make a cute couple.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” Batman hissed, vehement.  Clark narrowed his eyes further.  “It will not happen.  I forbid it.  You will tell Kon-El to stay away from my son.”

“They work on the same team,” Clark pointed out, starting to get angry.

“Tim will be leaving the Titans.”

“Because Kon asked him out?” Clark asked, incredulous.  The sheer overreaction was ridiculous.

“Yes.”

“Does Tim want to leave?” Clark asked.  He didn’t know the details of how Kon was planning to ask Tim out, but it was possible that he’d accidentally offended him.  “Maybe I should talk to him—”

“No!”

Clark stared.  Batman didn’t shout.  Batman never shouted.  Batman certainly didn’t ball his hands into fists like he was contemplating punching Clark.  Whatever this was about, it was causing the man to lose his infamous composure.

“You will not talk to Tim.  Your son,” Batman twisted the word and Clark came perilously close to seeing red—“will not talk to Tim.  This will never happen again.  Is that understood?”

Clark took five deep breaths to be able to speak without shouting.  “No,” he said as calmly as he could.  “I don’t understand.  I don’t know why you’re so upset about this.  If there’s a problem, and if the kids can’t solve it on their own, then it becomes my business—”

“There is no problem,” Batman ground out through gritted teeth.

“That’s not what it sounds like to me,” Clark said sharply.  “I don’t know if this is homophobia or xenophobia, but our kids are doing a better job of getting along than we are, and that’s something to be encouraged.”

Batman was silent for so long that Clark actually got out of his chair to make sure the guy was still there.  “Getting along,” the vigilante said finally, words slow and faintly bitter.

“What?”

“This is about getting along,” Batman said.  Clark didn’t know whether it was a question.

“I guess?” he answered.  Kon wouldn’t have asked Tim out unless they’d gotten to know each other, breaking the long-held isolation of the Bats.

Batman’s jaw tightened.  “Okay,” he said.

“Okay?”  Clark was very confused.

“Okay,” Batman repeated.  “We can…get along.”  Clark stared blankly at him.  “Now tell your son to stop.”

Clark immediately protested, but was sidetracked as Batman pulled off his cowl.  Batman never unmasked even though they all knew who he was, and Clark’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of Bruce Wayne’s glittering gray eyes glaring at him.

“Wait,” Clark said, shaking his head, “I’m not telling Kon to stop.  Why are you—”

“Then what do you want,” Bruce snapped.

“For what?”  Clark was keenly aware that he’d lost the thread of this conversation somewhere and he didn’t know where.

“To call your son off!” Bruce said, face narrowed into a glower, but Clark caught the edge of a crack in his tone.  “Do you want me to get on my knees?  Suck you off?  Fuck you?  You—”

“What,” Clark’s voice was the one that cracked this time, embarrassingly high as he swiftly backed away.  “What the fuck.  What are you talking about?!”

“You said,” Bruce said, and Clark abruptly realized that the terseness to his tone was because he pausing to swallow more often.  “You wanted us to get along.”

“Not like that.”

“Kon-El propositioned my son.”

“Kon asked Tim on a date,” Clark said, voice still too high with dawning horror, “because he likes Tim.  Because that’s what kids do when they like one of their friends!”

“Typically,” Bruce said quietly, and Clark could see the fractures in his eyes, “they don’t also have the power to immobilize said friend.”

Clark stared at him, frozen in shock and horror.  He’d been wrong, then, it wasn’t the idea of his son dating a meta that Bruce didn’t like, except it kind of was, it was the idea of his son dating someone with the ability to overpower him.

“Why would you think,” Clark whispered, “that Kon would ever do that?”  Kon was a good kid, a hero, he loved helping people, if Bruce dared to breathe one word about Lex, Clark would eviscerate him—

But no.  Bruce didn’t say Lex’s name.  He didn’t say anything at all, just stared at Clark with a blank expression.  He looked…tense.  Anxious.  There were dark circles under his eyes and the lines on his face skewed to exhaustion.  He hadn’t relaxed his fists.

Clark walked back over to him, slow and even, posture unthreatening.  When Clark was two steps away, Bruce shifted ever-so-slightly, a flinch, a brace for a punch there could be no bracing against.

Clark stopped.  He turned and sat back down in his chair.

“Batman,” he said slowly, heart heavy and aching, “I’m not going to hurt you or your son.  Neither is Kon.  This wasn’t a—a threat, or whatever you thought it was.”  Because Bruce had clearly thought it was a threat, if he came here to bargain Clark into taking him instead.  “Tim does not have to agree to Kon’s date.  If he says no, Kon will leave him alone.  If he wishes to leave the Titans, he can.”

I am not the monster you so clearly think I am, he wanted to scream.

“If that’s all you came here for,” he said, turning back to the reports, “You can leave.”  Clark didn’t know if he could stop himself from venting his feelings if Batman stayed.

#my snippets #bruclark #timkon #bruce is terrified of clark #and unfortunately very good at hiding it #protective bruce

[loversmantra]

LOCK YOUR PHONE!

synopsis. a secret relationship. a fantasy.

content. itoshi sae x cisfem!reader. aged up characters (+20). fluffy but suggestive. implied sexy times. profanity. secret relationship. sending and receiving nudes. sae's kinda possessive in this but there's nothing crazy. lowercase intended.

wc. 1.3k

message from noe. i adore him i fear... listen to billie nossa nova by billie eilish for a better experience. been wanting to write something based on this song for a while and i thought sae fit perfectly! enjoy.

there’s a warm body in sae’s bed.

his still asleep brain takes a second to make the connection; the softness of you under him is no longer a feeling he’s used to. he puts two and two together, eventually, and wraps his arms tighter around you. awake, but unwilling to let the moment end, he buries his face into your neck.

too late. you stir, push yourself away from him. he can’t bring himself to blame you: it’s hot in the room, hot under the sheets.

there will be no more sleeping for him, but it isn’t too late for you — with that thought in mind he too rolls away, blinking once, twice, context coming back to him as his surroundings do.

the bed is neither his nor yours, though he could have put that together himself — the satin sheets gliding on his skin in such an alien way.

creams and soft pinks blur before his eyes, pale under the early morning’s light. paris. the hotel room he booked for you in a haze, almost feverish in his longing for you.

the downside of keeping a relationship under wraps, he supposes: his noose-tight schedule and the hawk eye of the public force meetings to be few and far in-between, the secret protected like crown jewels. he knows you’re tired of it; he knows because he is, too. it’s exhausting, constantly looking over his shoulder when taking you to his place, or on his way to yours. it’s exhausting, always having to find a different hang out spot, for fear of the media figuring him out. it’s exhausting, waking up and wondering: is today the day the world sinks its teeth into you?

sae’s never cared to keep secrets, at least never willingly — he says things as they are, does things as they need doing, full transparency, if it’s up to him.

it’s exhausting, it is. but that’s just one more thing on the list — and it’s so. damn. worth it. every downside comes with an upside, or else itoshi sae wouldn’t ever bother.

these hidden moments sae shares with you, no one else is privy to them. only he gets to know you like this, love you like this, warm and soft underneath him. no one knows because no one needs to know. just you and him.

no one gets to see you in your entirety: the shine of your eyes when they land on him; the loving curve of your mouth as you smile at him.

everything that belongs to you. for him only.

the face you made when you first entered today’s suite will stick with him for a while, he thinks. the pure delight and adoration shining in your eyes. your lips parting in wonder. all for him. all because of him. your princess room, that’s what you’d called it. a child’s dream, delicate in its simplicity, crushed and torn apart by the cruel world’s sharp, sharp teeth. stitched back together by him.

he knows how it feels, to be ripped to shreds. he’s glad he can do this for you, at the very least.

the world awakens and so does he; slumber slipping through his fingers as he rubs it away from his eyes, tiny sand grains leaving a small sting behind. he slept well. better than usual.

his phone is still on do not disturb. he doesn’t bother checking the time.

sae sits up, covers dropping to his thighs. beside him, you stir again, whine a little. maybe you can feel him leaving, even now in your sleep, feel the shadow of his absence. maybe you’re just bothered by his movements rocking the mattress. either way, you sleep. finding his pants in the mess of the suite bedroom, without the aggressive light of his phone’s flashlight to aid him, proves to be no easy task, but he manages eventually. he slips them on and slips away, closing the bedroom door softly.

it isn’t much brighter in the living space. the lazy sun is barely rising, only the idea of it permeating the gradual brightening of the sky.

phone still clutched in his hand, sae lets himself drop on the abnormally large leather couch, massaging the tender spots you viciously bit into his neck. with just a few swipes, he’s opened his camera roll. time to collect the prize: the surprise you leave for him after every passionate encounter.

the first time you did it, he didn’t even notice until a few days after the fact, when he went browsing through his pictures for a home screen-worthy photo of you.

there it was: a beautifully crafted souvenir of the time spent together. the flash of his phone camera punctuating every shot, barely noticed in the heat of the moment. the red of the set you wore that day.

selfies of you before, and after. your lingerie still intact — and the canvas of your chest painted purple by his loving mouth. not a single video, but at least a dozen pictures: of you, of him, of the two of you together.

a gift from you to him — one that had his blood boiling, had him flushed, aching, yearning all over again.

he sent you his favorite of the bunch — a mirror selfie of you, chest painted purple, a teasing finger pulling your bottom lip down — followed by a question mark. a wordless interrogation.

finally, thought you were never gonna see them, 11:22pm

-is the answer he got.

want more? 11:23pm

and he did. and he got more.

it’s been a while, since then — long enough for it to become a tradition, a little present left in his phone after a secret rendez-vous. so you don’t forget me, you joke.

but how could he?

he’s learned a lot, since that first time. the most important: you’re a fucking tease. lighting, cropping, outfit, pose, it’s an art form to you, down to the time it is for him, when you press send. more often than not, he gets the pictures in the middle of the day, when he can see but can’t do anything.

you’re decent enough to warn him beforehand, at least.

you better lock your phone ;)

and then the raunchiest picture he’s ever seen — you outdo yourself every time — is all over his screen. he’s had many, many close calls. you don’t stop. he never asks you to. he loves the damn pics.

always pictures, never videos — they’re not your thing, he’s learned. not that it matters.

sae would’ve never guessed you’d be such a great soft porn photographer.

the couch’s leather sticks to his skin as he moves, trying to get just a bit more comfortable. he’s about to open his camera roll, ready to unwrap his present, when shuffling near his head startles him out of his reverie.

“why’d you leave?” you murmur, voice still rough with sleep.

you’re completely wrapped in a thin sheet, the only barrier between his hungry eyes and your soft, soft skin. the only glimpse he gets is that of your ankles. a small golden chain rests there, snug. his name is spelled out among the links, hidden. for his eyes only. his chest constricts, almost painfully.

he doesn’t answer; only opens his arms so you can take your rightful place tucked against him. you lay down, covering the both of you with the sheet.

the sun finally peeks from below the horizon, warming your face. it’s peaceful.

“i didn’t want to wake you,” sae decides to say.

you shrug. “more time with you.”

he feels the same — still, your sleep and your comfort take precedence over anything, for him. over anything.

you look so beautiful, like this. waking the sun, blessed by its gentle glow. for his eyes only.

it won’t last. he knows it won’t — secrets never stay secret for long. but for now, simply living like this is enough, more than enough. enjoying the sun. enjoying you.

sae slept well. better than usual. you’re warm on his chest, traces of you warm on his skin. there’s a present waiting for him in his camera roll.

it won’t last — but it won’t hurt to enjoy it while it does.

you fall back asleep quickly, lulled by his steady heartbeat. he follows easily. his dreams are swaddled in creams and soft pinks, and the warmth of the sun on his chest.

LOVERSMANTRA © 2024, all rights reserved. do not translate, crosspost, or copy. steal my work and i'll steal your kneecaps. bitch.

#☆ — by noe #❥ — sae #bllk #blue lock #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #blue lock x reader #blue lock scenarios #blue lock x you #itoshi sae fluff #itoshi sae smut #blue lock fanfiction

[pockettwinzz]

My Heaven - S.JY

୨୧ Warnings ୨୧ : Fluff, Angst, Toxic parents, Kissing, SFW, not proofread

୨୧ A/N ୨୧ : wrote this in a haste cause i really wanted to release smth for the weekend so I apologize if it's bad :3. Also enhypen's releasing a new version of dark moon ><

୨୧ Word count ୨୧ : 1.7k

As you sat in your new college classroom, your mind drifted away from the mundane lecture on ancient history. You couldn't help but wonder how the rest of your college experience would turn out. With your perfect 4.0 GPA from high school, you had been accepted into one of the most prestigious universities in the country. However, even though you had been top of your class and had received countless awards and accolades, it seemed that your parents were never truly happy with you. They constantly pressured you to study even harder and to strive for even greater heights.

Meanwhile, Jake, who had coasted through high school with mediocre grades and minimal effort, had been welcomed into this new university with open arms. Everyone seemed to love him, and he was constantly surrounded by a group of friends. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy as you watched him laugh and joke with them during the break.

As the semester progressed, you found yourself struggling to keep up with the workload. Your classes were more challenging than you had anticipated, and the constant pressure from your parents only made matters worse. You often found yourself staying up late into the night, hunched over your books, tears streaming down your face as you tried to understand the complex concepts and theories.

Life wasn't going how you wanted it too and seeing others, mostly Jake, sucked up to the professors, get high grades without much effort made you feel even worse. You didn't understand why your parents always thought you were useless. You tried to talk to them about it, to tell them that you were doing your best, but they never listened. They just kept pushing you harder, telling you that you could do better. You started to lose hope, to feel like you were drowning in a sea of academic expectations.

You never knew when it happened, maybe when Jake stole the first position, or maybe when he scored more marks from you on that one chemistry practical, but it was safe to say you hate him. You hated him for being so perfect, for being so loved, for being able to do everything effortlessly while you had to work your ass off to get even a B. You hated him for making your life miserable, for making you feel like you were never good enough, for making you feel like you were nothing but a burden to your parents.

One day, after yet another grueling exam, you decided that you'd had enough. You couldn't take it anymore. You walked up to Jake in the hallway, your hands shaking with anger and frustration. "Why do you get everything so easy?" you demanded, your voice quivering with emotion. "Why does everyone love you and hate me?"

Jake looked taken aback by your outburst, his perfect features twisting into a frown. "What?".

"Why does it always have to be like this?" you cried, your voice cracking. "Why does everyone always love you and hate me? I just want to be normal, just once!" You felt like you were about to burst, like all of the anger and frustration you'd been feeling for so long was building up inside of you, ready to explode. You didn't know why you were telling Jake any of this, but you couldn't help it. You needed someone to understand.

Jake hesitated for a moment, seeming unsure of how to respond. Finally, he took a step closer to you and placed a hand on your shoulder. "Look, I get it," he said softly. "It's hard sometimes, trying to live up to everyone's expectations. But you know what? You're amazing. You're smart, and talented, and you've got so much to offer. You just need to believe in yourself, okay?"

"Shut up" you snapped, shrugging his hand off your shoulder. "You don't understand anything. You've never had to struggle, never had to fight for anything." You turned away from him, anger and hurt burning in your chest. "Stop pretending to be so nice. I hate it, I hate you"

Jake let out a sigh, looking genuinely hurt. "I'm sorry if I've ever done anything to make you feel that way," he said quietly.

You turned back to him, tears streaming down your face. "It's not just you," you sobbed. "It's everyone. I'm just so tired of feeling like I'm never good enough. I'm tired of feeling like a burden." Jake's expression softened, and he reached out to wipe away a tear from your cheek.

"You're not a burden," he said gently. "And you are good enough. You're more than good enough. You just need to remember that." He hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. "And you know what? If it means that much to you, I'll help you. I'll help you get through this."

You looked up at him, surprised by his offer. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you want me to help you, I will. I'll study with you, or whatever you need. We can work together to get through this," Jake explained, his voice firm but gentle. "Because you're right, it's not fair. You are good enough, and you deserve to be happy. You deserve to have people believe in you."

You felt a strange sensation in your chest, like a warmth spreading through you. You didn't quite understand it, but it was nice. It was nice to feel like someone actually cared. "Really?" you asked, looking up at him. "You'd really help me?"

Jake nodded, his expression sincere. "Yeah, of course I would. We're friends, aren't we? Besides, it's not like I've got everything easy. I've just learned how to deal with it."

As tensions began to ease between you, Jake started to show you a different side of himself. He'd always been considerate and caring, but now those qualities seemed to shine brighter than ever before. He'd listen intently when you spoke, offering thoughtful advice and encouragement. He'd laugh at your jokes, even when they weren't funny, and he'd make an effort to include you in group activities. You began to feel a warmth in your chest whenever he was around.

One day, as you studied together in the library, you noticed Jake looking at you in a way that made your heart skip a beat. His eyes seemed to hold an intensity that you'd never seen before, and it made you feel both nervous and excited at the same time. As you spoke, he'd occasionally glance at you, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. It was then that you realized, with a start, that you were in love with him.

Over the next few weeks, your friendship blossomed into something deeper. The way Jake treated you, with respect and admiration, made you feel like the most special person in the world. You found yourself looking forward to spending time with him, just talking or watching a movie. The gentle way he touched your hand when he passed you a pen or the way he'd tease you about your favorite TV shows only served to intensify the feelings you had for him.

One evening, as you studied together in his room, the lights were low and the only sound was the soft rustling of pages. You were so engrossed in your work that you didn't even notice how close Jake was sitting to you. You were acutely aware of his presence, of the way his shoulder brushed against yours every time he reached for a pen or turned a page. The air between you seemed to crackle with an electricity that you couldn't quite explain.

As the night wore on, you found yourself glancing up at him more and more often, studying the lines of his face, the way his hair fell across his forehead, the way his lips moved as he spoke. You felt your heart race every time he looked at you, and you could swear that there was something different in his eyes. Something warm and intense.

You tried to concentrate on your work, but your mind kept wandering, drifting back to the way he'd been acting. You wondered if he felt the same way about you. You wondered what he would do if you confessed your feelings. A part of you was terrified of ruining your friendship, but another part of you longed for something more. Something deep and lasting. Something real.

"J-jake," you stammer, your voice barely audible over the thunder of your heart. "I-I love you." The words hang in the air between you, heavy and palpable, as if they've been weighing on your chest for far too long. You feel your face flush with embarrassment, but at the same time, there's a strange sense of relief in finally getting the words out.

Jake goes still, his eyes widening in surprise. He hesitates for a moment, searching your face, before exhaling softly and leaning in closer. His lips meet yours, tentatively at first, but with a growing intensity that takes your breath away. You can feel the heat of his body pressed against yours, his hands gently cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss.

The world around you fades away as you lose yourself in the sensation of being connected to him. His taste, his smell, the feel of his skin against yours—it's all so familiar and yet so new at the same time. You moan into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, wanting more of him.

Jake responds eagerly, deepening the kiss even further. His tongue dances with yours, teasing and exploring, sending shivers down your spine. You can feel the passion building inside of you, a warmth spreading through your entire body. You never knew you could feel this way about someone, this alive, this desired.

As you break away from the kiss, your eyes meet his, and you see the love reflected there. It's a look of wonder and awe, as if he can't quite believe how lucky he is to be sharing this moment with you. He trails his fingers down your cheek, over your jawline, and to your lips again, this time softly tracing their outline.

"I love you too, Yn," he whispers. "I've loved you for a long time."

Your heart soars at his words, and you feel a newfound sense of joy and security wash over you. You realize that this is what you've always wanted, to be truly loved and cherished by someone as wonderful as Jake. You lean in and kiss him again, this time with more passion and longing, as if you could never get enough of his lips on yours.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡Permanent Taglist ༘˚⋆𐙚｡ @cha-eui @alvojake @heeslut4life @wondipity @dollywons @wonlvkay

{reply or send ask to be added Minors + blogs w/o ages DNI}

#enhypen #pockettwinzz writes #enha x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x female reader #enhypen jake #jake sim #enhypen fluff #sim jaeyun #sim jake x reader #jake x reader #jake x y/n #jake fluff #jake fanfic #jake angst #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #dividers by dollywons #moodboards by pockettwinzz #sfw

[rosemaze-reveries]

Hi there!! Can I req a Matthias x reader where the reader is very nice yet shy, and Matthias fell for their kindness but is afraid to confess cause he might lose them(who's the first and only person to show him genuine care)?

(But he's also bad at hiding his feelings)

Or maybe a scenario where he has a difficult time sleeping and finds himself impulsively knocking on your door— regretful of his actions but he can't back out now that you're standing in front of the open door, curious from the unexpected visit.

He's a new char so I hardly find any fics about him and I'm desperate💔 you can change the scenario!! I'm really just desperate uehdhsishd(⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

hi anon i LOVED these ideas! i tried to combine both of them into one, i hope it satisfies what you wanted!! ♡

falling slowly 🪡

Matthias isn’t one to act on impulse.

He’ll let his thoughts fester aimlessly inside him, hoping the darker among them someday fizzle out. He’ll watch precious chances fly past him, fearing the consequences of a risk taken too rashly. A missed opportunity is better than another tragedy. A guarded mind is better than a broken heart. But some restless nights drive him to desperation, and tonight that leads him to you.

He stands outside your bedroom door, arms stiff against his sides. He’s passed by this room countless times before, as the two of you occasionally walk each other back to your rooms. But never has he come here on his own, never without explicit permission.

He gingerly raises his hand, letting it hover above your doorframe. All of a sudden, he loses his words. What would he say? I can’t sleep, I need you to check for monsters under my bed? I need you to stay with me until I fall asleep? I need you to tuck me in? What a baby. He can already picture the look you’d send him: a smile that’s trying too hard to be polite, a shabby effort at concealing the judgment within. You wouldn’t turn him down directly, even though he knows you’d want to. Kindhearted people love to dance in circles before saying anything that might offend. He’s all too familiar with this game. Normally, your kindness is something he loves about you, but all he can do now is curse it under his breath. If only you were crueler to him, like most people are, then he wouldn’t have let his hopes inflate his head. He would’ve known never to even consider stopping by your room. He would’ve known to avoid this situation altogether.

His fingers close into a fist, and it’s then he realizes he’s quivering slightly. Louis wouldn’t have a problem in this scenario. That thought piques Matthias most. His “factory defect” has locked him in place yet again, and all he can do is swallow down the reminder of his incompetence. It’s just a door, for God’s sake.

He flexes his fingers one last time, glancing around as if worried someone might catch him. Then he strikes his fist. It’s a clumsy motion, rattling your door on its hinges, and his heart leaps to his throat. A courteous knock would have three raps or so, not the jarring thud! he made — nobody in their right mind would imagine that’s a welcome visitor, right? Especially not at this snake’s pit of a manor. He prays desperately for you to ignore that ever happened. In your position, he’d pretend to be asleep, maybe double-check that the door is properly locked. Surely you’d do the same.

Surely...?

“It’s open!” greets your voice from inside, entirely unconcerned.

Matthias holds his breath. Why are you leaving your door unlocked at this hour? But he tucks that thought away while he stares down at the doorknob. This is it — he’s trapped. If he turns around now, you’ll be left with unresolved fears of someone lurking around your room at night. Nothing could entice him to do that to you. And if you ever found out it was him? It’d be too late for apologies, and definitely not forgiveness. Right, so he has to answer.

Slowly, he cracks it open a fraction, afraid of peering anywhere but the ground.

“You can come in,” you urge. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t want to. Footsteps shuffle around inside, then the door fully swings open. “Oh, hi Matthias! What’s up?”

He only meets your face briefly, at your bright and curious eyes, before his gaze flicks back downward.

“Uh… sorry to bother you, I just…” He awkwardly grasps at his elbows, struggling to string together his intentions. “…I need you.”

. . . . .

There it is. His secret is out. He didn’t mean to let it slip, but that single phrase had been bouncing endlessly around his mind, as if they were the only words he knew. It’s the one thing he can confidently admit: he needs you. He doesn’t expect you to reciprocate. In fact, he’s certain you don’t. Nobody in their right mind would. That’s why he never ventured to say these words before. So when you respond to him with patient silence, as if waiting for him to continue, the entirety of his body freezes over. Maybe only a few seconds pass in reality, but that’s more than enough time for Matthias to fill the gaps. It’s a no — he knows it’s a no.

Your head tips slightly. “Sure, what do you need?”

The whirlwind in his mind slows to a halt. He remembers how he used to cough up excuses on the spot when trying to avoid you—sometimes you’d invite him for a meal or game of cards together, and he had convinced himself those were pity invites so he tended to reject them upfront. It stings less to avoid someone altogether than to endure feeling ‘tolerated’ instead of ‘wanted.’ But now he’s wracking his brain for an excuse to stay.

“I—I just wanted to see you.” It’s not a lie, but for some reason it feels like one.

“Me?” A look of surprise flashes on your face, warmth blooming across your chest. That might be the most forward thing you’ve ever heard from him. Stepping closer, you reach for his forearm, peering up into his face to better examine his strained features. Your free hand reaches up to brush aside the limp strands of hair shrouding his face. “Did something happen? It’s almost midnight—I mean, I don’t mind, it’s just so unexpected…”

The strength falls from Matthias’ shoulders. Out of relief, maybe. Or maybe it’s to brace himself for one last leap of faith.

“Can I stay with you…?” His voice is barely audible. You search his lone eye, staring back at you in its perfect hollowness. At some point, that blank stare has become a comforting sight for you. Your hand trails from his arm to spread across his shoulder. He remains motionless.

“Okay,” you say, softly. “Always.”

As you move to wrap both arms around his neck, you notice his body tense, and his brows furrow, subtly, in a clear attempt not to let you notice. The strain on his face catches you off-guard.

“Wh-What? What’s wrong?” Immediately, you pull back to search his expression.

“N-No, nothing—keep going.”

This time, it’s Matthias who draws you close. His arms weave their way around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. His face burrows into your shoulder, and it’s then you understand the weight of his visit, of his need for you. All you can do is lift a tender hand to ruffle his hair, feeling his pounding heart ease in your arms.

#matthias' self sabotage saga continues #i adore this guy #identity v #idv x reader #matthias czernin #matthias czernin x reader #idv imagines #identity v x reader #idv puppeteer #puppeteer x reader

[iridescentparkers]

vanilla palm trees → one - be cool, peter parker

vanilla palm trees → one - be cool, peter parker

summary ⇢ it’s been years, he should get over it, right? but, peter just can’t. he looks up, he sees her. he goes to bed, he dreams of her. he wakes up, he can smell her. he goes out one night and he sees…her. no, not gwen but his ticket to stop moping around on the anniversary of her death. what is meant to be one quick night of putting sadness on the back burner, is now a blossoming new love that feels all too perfect for peter. was this new woman in his life meant to be? or was this just another set of poorly dealt cards that would leave him walking away empty handed. all or nothing, right? ↝ college!au ↝ one night stand gone wrong trope | masterlist

parings ⇢ tasm!peter parker x female reader

warnings ⇢ very angsty, mentions of death

a/n ⇢ for the sake of this, let's all just pretend that my tasm timeline is accurate! guys please let me know what you think <333 love this and you guys sm!!! like truly! like your feedback and suggestions will be highly encouraged and taken into account! THIS IS 18+ !!!!!

As he sat in his dimly lit room, listening to the dancing melodies of classical music, Peter Parker would never care to admit that his life was completely and utterly depressing. 

When his best friend Harry would see him sulking, better yet wreaking of his dull life, Peter would say something along the lines of,  ‘It’s not completely sad’ before failing to pinpoint the little amount of good he still had going for him. 

‘God, what a sad kid.” Harry would joke, but Peter never once found it funny. 

He swore up and down his life didn’t even suck that bad. Like, actually. He could look at the cityscapes in his apartment adjacent to his 80k-a-year institution. That was always a plus! Especially to drown out his roommate and girl..friend each weekend, forcing Peter to shove a pillow over his head to drown them out.

Alright, maybe it does suck. But.. just a little bit.

His roommate and Carmen were at it like rabbits…again. This time, Peter threw on his earbuds to drown out the uncomfortable noises pouring through the walls.

It wasn’t even 10PM yet. Harry had broken their rule. “Guests” were allowed between 10PM-12AM Fridays, and sleepovers could not go past 10 AM. 

Peter muttered under his breath as he attempted to get more work done. The pounding and thudding of his wall let him know maybe it was time to take a break. 

He reached over to grab and rested his camera on the pane of his foggy window, wiping condensation off as he found the perfect muse. Most Friday late nights, Peter watches out his window as people enter and leave differently from how they entered. 

Whether they were drunk off of their ass, stumbling into a cab with the help of friends or others nearby, or even completely sober. Sometimes leaving is more than just a party of one. 

All of his life, Peter was an observer. Peter always lingered on the sidelines wherever he went. He didn’t mind capturing the essence of everyone else. It taught him more about others and made him more aware of people's character. Although his friend seems like a douche, Harry is caring. He just has an odd way of showing it. 

As he captured the picture of people passing on the city street, he heard the two next door begin to die down a bit. Harry was Peter’s best friend since kindergarten. He was always the boy next door, a star athlete, and always on the front lines, Peter’s direct opposite. It almost didn’t make sense, their friendship, but it worked. They both loved their dynamic and were always there for each other. 

He had been there since the beginning (even before the campus fame got to his ego) and was there for the worst of it all. Especially 4 years ago. And to Harry, right now, there was nothing worse than watching his best friend sit alone in his new apartment on a youthful Friday evening.

With three sharp knocks, Harry entered Peter’s room with a sly grin creeping on his face, “All I’m saying is no senior in college with at least half a brain is studying on a Friday night. Especially right before Thanksgiving break.”

“Jesus, Harry. You couldn’t wait 2 hours to bring Carmen over?” Peter remarked after turning in his desk chair to face Harry. 

“Sorry, Parker, she has an early morning. She’s gone now,” he apologized, buttoning his shirt and shaking his arms to lower his dress shirt sleeves. “But you don’t. Let’s go out, you and me, what do you say?”

Letting out a deep huff, Peter lowered his camera and turned around in his chair, “Should you be going out considering you almost lost your academic scholarship from partying your ass off all of last year?”

“Considering what’s coming up, I’m going to ignore the ass-hole territory dig you just took at me,” Harry remarked. “And would you drop the whole grumpy act for once? Have fun with me tonight, please?” 

“Your definition of fun is not my definition of fun.”

“Pfft,” he scoffs. “How so?”

Peter narrows his lids, “Getting high in the back of your car and hooking up with the closest girl within reach is not my definition of fun.”

“It can be,” he smirks, leaning further against Peter’s bedroom door frame. “Halloween was amazing.”

“No, Harry,” Peter insists before pushing his reading glasses further on his face and turning his chair again towards his desk.

“I know what this is, Parker,” he insists, inching closer to Peter and taking a seat on his bed before forcefully turning Peter towards him in his chair. Peter catches himself from the spin, readjusting himself in his seated position, “You need to get laid-”

“No.”

“Yes, y'know-”

“Harry!”

“...that is why that stick is wedged so far up your ass-”

“Absolutely not-”

“You need a beautiful woman to come over tonight and pull it out, ease you up a little bit.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Is it?” He asked, walking over to place a hand on Peter’s back and turning his chair around to face the bar across the street. “Have you been over there since you moved in?”

Peter watched as he pointed to the photos dangling by a singular pushpin on his corkboard, “Maybe it's time you stop taking so many creepy photos and get in there, get your groove back!”

Harry moved his hips to an imaginary rhythm, feeling the beat of the bar washing over him in the moment, “That was the most ridiculous thing you could have ever done. Now I am for sure staying right here.”

“You're telling me you don’t get lonely here, by yourself?”

“Not one bit.”

“Your bed doesn’t ever get cold at night? Wouldn’t it be nice just to feel a set of lovely breasts nuzzled atop-” He soothed cupping his hands and placing them close to his face.

“Harry, Enough!”

“Sorry Parker, didn’t mean to hit a nerve.” Harry apologized walking towards his window and glancing down at the business below, horns and lights accessorizing the city streets. “What are you going to do for the rest of the weekend? Besides,”

“Study.”

“Study.” Harry snarked, as they commented in unison, Peter grinning as Harry rolled his eyes at his response,” Figures.” 

Peter picked up his pencil and wrote more notes on his homework, “Come on Peter, don’t be a pain and just join me. One night? Please, that's all I ask.”

He cut his eyes at Harry, glaring at him at him, only for Harry to pretend to beg, squeezing his palms together as he mouthed dramatic pleas. 

“Fine,” Peter gave in. “It has been a while.” 

Harry did a small cheer before moving to his bedroom, “I’m going to get ready.” 

“Did all of your other friends have plans?”

“Maybe. But that’s not important right now!” Harry shouted as he ran into his bedroom and shut the door. 

‘It was too much’ was all Peter could think, walking along the sidewalk as streetlights blinded him alongside his friend. The two passed through gushes of smoke from the burning cigarettes and crowds of strangers on the city street. 

Peter and Harry found their way to Alonzo’s, their neighborhood bar. The bar is dim and secluded by the brick and little surrounding the building. The name was familiar to Peter. The girl whose family owns the place was in Peter’s physics class…and Harry’s bed. 

“Do you have to have sex with all of Manhattan?” Peter murmured, “Do you know if she feels comfortable with us being here?”

“It was so long ago she probably won't even recognize me,” Harry assured as the two approached the front door. “And, sleeping with ‘all of Manhattan’  does help to get free drinks now and then.”

Peter stopped, placing his hands in his pockets as he glanced narrowly toward Harry, “That’s why you slept with her?”

“Slow your roll, Parker. I didn’t know she owned the place until after the fact.” Harry assured as the two entered. “And…she doesn’t own it…her dad does.” He stated so ‘as matter a of fact.’

The place was college kid-infested, with students from all over the city. The loud chatter and music would beat in Peter’s chest as he moved around the room and settled on two stools at a table on the other side of the square bar, squeezing past loads of unhinged college chatter and young, tipsy adults. 

With his shoes now sticky, Peter huffed as he sat, slowly regretting his choice to come out with his friend. Harry moved to the bar, shuffling past the kids surrounding it.  

“Two beers, please,” Harry requested to the woman behind the bar as he settled in his seat, the bartender not moving an inch.

“Ma’am, can we please get two beers?”

“Would you give me a sec, we have a full house this evening-”

The woman turned and stopped mid-sentence as she looked down at Harry. The v-neck clung to her body and was paired with a black apron and casual flair jeans. Her hair was clawed back with a brown clip, overflowing with dark brown curls. Her protruding brown eyes met his, narrowing as anger instilled within her tall stance.

“You.”

“Me,” Harry smirked, adjusting the front of his hair into place as he leaned further in his standing position. 

“Harry, right? 

“Right,” he smiled, twisting his head to the side, raking his eyes up and down along her curvature.

“Two beers, on the house.” 

“Thanks, umm-” he told her, his mouth gaping at the woman. She smiled at him, clicking the pen in her hand before simultaneously dropping it with her smile.

“You forgot my name.” She angered, curving angry lines along with her new frown along her face. 

“No, it’s uh- Give me a moment-”

“Alexis.” she interrupted. I’ll add those to your tab.” 

The two sat and drank beer, after beer, and threw back a couple of shots, the burning sensation still sitting even though Peter was not a tequila virgin. He now found himself alone, trying to pace himself and put some solids in his system.

“Do you ever wonder why he would risk his life? All those years, every waking minute of every day,” the bartender had asked Peter, who was now seated at the bar.

“Who, Spider-Man?” Peter slurred, biting a french fry. “All the damn time." 

"Why do I do it? No clue. Why does anyone do it?” He murmured to himself, swirling the remnants of alcohol in his beer bottle. 

The bartender quirked her right brown and continued counting the cash in the drawer. As she looked down, a woman approached the bar, a couple of seats to Peter’s right. The woman then turned her body, leaving an arm on the side of the bar. 

Booooy was he drunk. She was the prettiest girl he had ever seen, her skin glistening under the bar lighting. It could have been the drunk goggles, but it didn’t matter. He needed to talk to her. 

The woman pursed her lips, swallowing the remaining liquid from her glass. Peter watched them as she finished the drink. Her speech slurred like Peters, but her eyes were hooked on the bar screen, watching as Spider-Man swung himself from building to building. 

She leaned more over the bar, settling in her hips as she stirred the straw in her glass. As she moved, the clunky jewelry on her wrists and around her neck moved with her. The woman was wearing jeans that hung low on her hips, decorated with flowers along the curve of her ass with pops of reds, purples, and blues. The red tank she wore clung to her skin as she adjusted her stance, matching the flower clip on her head. 

It was time for him to leave, but maybe Harry was right. It's time to get over Gwen. It's been so long, how could he still be so...single?

Harry had wandered off with some of his football buddies about an hour ago, and now Peter was alone near this beautiful, mysterious woman. 

Maybe it wasn't time to head home. Not yet.

Peter chewed the inside of his lip as he turned away from the repetitive clips playing on the local news channel. He leaned his arm on the side of the bar, mirroring the stance of the woman in front of him. She narrowed her eyelids, 

“Hmm,” she hummed, stirring around the straw in her empty drink and looking at the bartender. “I don’t.”

The woman glanced over at the opposite end of the bar, “You have been staring for a long time. Are you just going to stand there, or buy me a drink?”

He took in the woman in front of him. Her subtly yet sweet scent, how her hair fell in front of her face, and even how, “You're engaged.” 

“I’m not. Trust me,” she remarked, pulling the diamond off her ring finger. It would have alarmed sober Peter, but drunk Peter did not care. 

He held eye contact with the woman, “I’m not even supposed to be here right now. I should be at home.”

“So why are you here, then?” The woman asked, inching closer to Peter as she placed a hand on his lower arm. Peter looked down and then back up at the woman, leaning in close to whisper in her ear. 

“See my friend over there at the other end of the bar? He dragged me out to this bar, begging me to bring someone home tonight instead of moping around at home. And that’s why I came over to you. I don’t want to disappoint.”

“Disappoint? Excuse me?” She asked, turning her body as her brows dipped inwards on her face and anger curled upon her lips. 

“No sorry- not like that,” Peter assured, throwing his hands up in worry. “Sorry, I- I am truly, sorry. That is not at all what I meant. It's been a while since I have done this." 

"You saw what I was wearing on my finger, I'm not exactly true to this either." She laughed, and Peter then joined her. "You want to show me exactly what you meant?” 

Peter grabbed the woman’s cheek, pulling her into him as the two melded into one. The hot and stickiness from the college bar air dissipated as he pulled her closer. The woman fell from the barstool and moved her hands behind his neck, taking more control of the kiss. Peter moved his other hand just above her waist before pulling her away. 

“I think you’re beautiful,” he commented leaving his hand on her hip. “Probably the most beautiful woman here. What if, we got out of here?”

The woman smiled, placing a 20 down on the bar, “I’ll get my coat.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker fandom #peter parker x y/n #spiderman x you #peter parker x you #peter parker smut #tasm! peter parker x reader #tasm peter #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm 2 #tasm!peter x you #the amazing spiderman #no way home #spider man no way home #tasm fic #tasm #tasm fanfiction #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter smut #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter fluff

[oveliagirlhaditright]

-debating trying to do a late namiku day post-

#i'm also still extremely sad that i didn't get to post my neshiki day post late #and if i do try to do that now it'll be extremely late since neshiki day was back in august #but in my defense my phone ate a good portion of that story #but maybe 'better late than never' is better than nothing?

[quietwingsinthesky]

i do love canon amy & rory but god, does some part of me wish they really had gone with the idea of the doctor picking up a child as a companion (and then later, that child’s best friend with a huge crush on her.) with the rest of the season really not changing at all, except now it’s amelia pond with an angel in her head killing her and lost alone in the woods. it’s little rory who dies and is forgotten and becomes a toy soldier. if this is going to be a fairy tale, then let it be one. children have never been safe in fairy tales.

#it wouldn’t have to change any of the actual plot of the season. except MAYBE amy’s choice but even then i think amy’s choice would be the #one episode where they should be adults. if only for the half where they live in a village in that dream. #because that’s the kind of future that children would dream up. they live in a little cottage and nothing ever goes wrong and their best #friend visits them all the time even though they’ve grown up. #they aren’t actually adults there just children with an idea of what they should be as adults and acting accordingly #and it would still end the same way. #but idk its just. rory’s 2000 years waiting for amy inside the pandorica is already tragic. yes. #now imagine its a kid. a kid in a little roman soldier helmet who will never grow up. who will not leave his best friend. #he loves her and she’s more important than the whole universe and that sort of love is supposed to MEAN something in a fairy tale! #its supposed to melt the ice out of hearts and transform people from stone. #and what that love means here. is that he will have to wait 2000 years. a child and a box. #little rory and the amelia who followed the doctor’s letters to the pandorica. and she doesn’t recognize him again. #and amelia in the pandorica… 2000 years a child trapped in a small box waiting to be rescued. #s5 is already fucked for them but it could be worse. it could be so much worse. #and it would make the doctor choosing to take her place in the pandorica to save the universe later even better. #because who else but the doctor would put the fate of the universe on the shoulders of two children and realize much too late what a #monstrous thing he’d done. and still have to hope. have to hope. that amelia would remember him fondly enough to bring him back to reality. #the logistics of all of this would have been a pain lmao. child labor laws in acting and all that. #BUT. hypothetically. it would have slapped. #doctor who #amy pond #rory williams #<- also this entire time ive been referring to him in my head as rory pond so much that i fuckin. forgot his actual last name. #and then like if you want them to be adults in s6 or whatever you can just timeskip to them getting married and still have amelia remember #the doctor there. it would work. it would. #amelia pond au

[ailinu]

i am not indulging my worst impulses but i sure do want to.

#i have. a tendency to feel angry/upset when help is offered 'too late'. as it were. #and it's not a good tendency and i'm aware of that and keep a lid on it #it's just very. like. it's very *something* to spend two years in a situation that everyone acknowledges sucks #and it's only after you hit a breaking point and go 'well maybe i should just leave. like maybe i don't have to finish grad school' #and start like actually making preparations to do so #for people to start going 'well we finally have work we need you for. here's what you need to graduate.' #'we can probably get this done in a little over a year' #and i know the right thing to do is figure out what i want and accept the help #and---frankly---probably tough it out and finish grad school #but my goodness i just want to shout and burn bridges #like. 'it's not good to linger too long in grad school' no fucking shit my guy. why haven't you done something about this before. #why hasn't *anyone* done something about this? #newsflash! i needed support and direction *the whole time*! and you all knew it and did nothing! #anyway this is very unprofessional of me and not doing any good. help is help and it's better now than never i guess. #i'm just very upset and it has nowhere to go

[mainfaggot]

oh also shes straight

#and the part of me thats empty hopeless and constantly passively suicidal scores a goal! #a win for the agony within! #a loss for whimsy hope and serenity and the part of the me that is trying to heal and move forward without the weight of it all defining me. #it's like. im not surprised. why did i have expectations #why did i hope. i shouldnt hope. im so stupid. i shouldnt hope i should know better than that. im scarily lacking substance. im a shell #im a puppet. i cant form lasting relationships im an actor im a liar it would've never worked anyway #-> me going insane in real time #-> i sound so dramatic like go watch txt to do and chill out maybe ⁉️ #idk lol 😐 #im not giving up bc she said we should hang out again and friendship is always an option and she already #knows too much about me at this point so it's too late to back out #here is to befriending her for the sake of allowing myself to exist imperfectly and for the sake of hanging out with someone every week for #funsies and nothing else. we dont need to have some grand connection. she doesn't need to have a crush on me. we can just be #on campus buddies #we can meet during the summer at some points too maybe #idk. idk i want to disappear i think bc i really feel like i embarrassed myself by being so open about my insecurities #i should've put on the mask i usually wear #but i didnt #and everything thats pathetic about me was on full display #i don't know. god. i dont know #what matters is i made her smile a few times. my unnecessary commentary got a laugh out of her a few times too #the world is still spinning #the air was refreshingly chilly on my way home today #i got rained on and came to class looking beautiful despite my carefully slicked back hair falling into my eyes #my spanish professor agreed with my thoughts on the text we were analysing #z.post

[furshrimps]

These were from New Year's at 1am when the fireworks just started to quiet down a bit. Start the year as goofy as possible!! 😁🤡

#bats the chion #sam the papillon #totally forgot to post them #better late than never ✌️ #I also tried one of #pukki #but couldn't get her to stay still for long enough #but she surprised me this year by staying with us and eating treats (and chips) #even throughout the worst hour #I think that was a first for her #she's amazing ✨ #maybe it's just experience #she's experienced this for the 14th time already after all #maybe she now knows that nothing really happens #who knows

[anaalnathrakhs]

...i'm starting to wonder if i wasn't actually pretty often failed by the adults in my life as a young kid tbh.

#i'm always doubtful where to put the blame #in a morally neutral causality kind of way to be clear #because like. i dont know. if i was the adult. confronted to the opaque behavior of a child. would i have done better? #but also i can't help but think #why the fuck did they make me skip a grade (last grade of primary on top of that) when i was notorious for never doing my homework #and was incredibly inconsistent across topics #like i sucked at math. like ''needs to count on fingers to do a simple addition or substraction'' sucking at math. #like i never learned any multiplication tables sucking at math #like i never got how to pose divisions and still can't at age 18 because logicomathematics are completely counterintuitive to me #and just. the work was never done to make me Get It. my work or teachers' work who knows. but perhaps skipping a grade wasnt the solution #or like #apparently when i was three years old the pediatrician suspected smth was up with me #either autism directly or ''generally suspicious child'' we're not clear on that #but he told my parents. and everybody said ''we better test that'' and then. nothing. idk. #they filled a parental report of behaviors questionnaire for... adhd i think? autism maybe. and that's it. never fucking heard about it. #god. i just remembered my mom saying proudly they almost never put me in the nursery as a kid. #always either with a parent or family or a nanny. #and perhaps mother. you could have foreseen that a kid with no siblings no pets no kid neighbors no playdates. would end up socially fucked #i remember the teachers scolding late students and showing us that we were supposed to be in bed by 9:30 or something #and internally i was like BUDDY AT 9PM WE'RE HALFWAY THROUGH DINNER #MOM'S BEEN HOME FOR LESS THAN AN HOUR #and shit. i don't know. i was scared of the dark as a child. to the point that even with the compromise #of keeping the door ajar and lights in the hallway (which i had to fucking advocate for btw) #i still slept curled up in the bathroom on a towel sometimes when it got too scary #and i would cry and scream before going to bed. i would beg my mom for sleeping pills from a young age. #i would often find myself in the morning sleeping with my face smushed between the pages of the book i literally fell asleep on #because i read until my eyes gave out #and a couple years later when i got a 3ds i'd play at night and if my dad caught me he'd storm into my room and i'd hide under the comforte #and he'd punch a couple times and whisper-yell at me not to do that and go to sleep #it took until i was about 15yo for me to see a sleep specialist

[lemonlover1110]

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑

Sukuna

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Summary: Your husband was an heir, and you have to fulfill the order.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), spitting, slight use of tummy mouth, double penetration, tit sucking (and biting), breeding kink, degrading, sukuna is... sukuna but fluffier to his wife

*he's been on my mind lately and I'm going insane

10k Event Masterlist

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“I want an heir.” Sukuna brings up one fateful night as you walk over to lay down beside him. It’s not a request, it’s an order that you must fulfill, just like everything that involves Sukuna. Strangely enough, Sukuna has been the one that’s been delaying having a child since you’ve been nearly begging him to have a baby with him for the past year. It seems he’s finally given in to the idea though.

“What was that, Suku?” You ask, stopping in your tracks because he’s caught you off guard. He stands up from where he lays, towering over you. You look up at him, waiting for him to repeat himself but you should know better than anyone that your husband doesn’t like to repeat himself. But this time he does,

“It’s about time you give me an heir.” Which makes a smile spread across your face because it’s what you’ve been wanting. Sukuna has been the one that has been refusing to have a child so you don’t understand why he words it like that– But either way, you’re happy and ready to fulfill his every need. Before you can even agree to his order, his bottom hands are undoing your robe to get you undressed while his mouth goes down to your lips.

Sukuna has grown accustomed to kissing you, and handling your body more gently since you’ve asked him to. Compared to the beginning, he treats you like a petal. You like to think it’s his way of expressing his love for you since he’s not very vocal about it, and you know he doesn’t particularly enjoy kissing. His tongue meets yours while his hands try to undo the robe without tearing the fabric into pieces since he knows it’s one of your favorites.

He bites down on your lip causing a cry to leave your throat while he gives up on properly taking off your robe. You hear as the fabric rips, and maybe another time you would be upset about it but you’re too consumed by him to care. He’ll just get you another one. His two lower hands roam down your bare body. One hand gropes your breasts, his rough fingers pinching your nipples. He gets to your cunt, lightly slapping it before he runs two fingers through your cunt.

He pulls away from the kiss, letting your soft moans into the air when he begins to play with your clit. Sex for him has always been a selfish act but ever since his first night with you, he’s found pleasure in pleasing you. The sound of your moans in the air while he toys with you is the sweetest melody. He found it dumb at first, but now there are nights where he’s simply buried between your thighs with the purpose of making you come as much as he can. 

Sukuna picks you up and puts you down on the bed. Taking a moment to appreciate how beautiful his wife looks when she’s under him. Fuck, you’re so fucking small compared to him. It’s nothing new, really, all the people that Sukuna has been with are miniscule compared to him. But he just loves the way that you look under him since he’s never seen a more beautiful human being. He’d never tell that to you though.

Sukune begins to tease your entrance, threatening to push a finger into your cunt but he doesn’t. He runs his fingers through your folds, while his thumb plays with your clit. He lowers his head, his tongue circling your nipple before his mouth wraps around it and he begins to suck.

“Can you put a finger in, Suku? Please…” You ask him, your needy cunt in need of his fingers inside of you. He bites down on your nipple, causing a cry to leave your lips before he unlatches and lifts his head up. 

“I hate beggars.” Sukuna reminds you, and you’re about to apologize but he shoves three fingers into your mouth, gagging you with them before you can even get a word out. He really knows you better than anyone. “My woman doesn’t apologize to anyone either. Not even her own husband.”

Sukuna finally pushes two fingers inside your pussy, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. His fingers are just so fucking big, and they reach every right spot. Sukuna feels you moan around his fingers before he takes them out of your mouth. He curves the fingers inside your cunt so they hit against your sweet spot. One hand goes to your breasts, and he begins to play with your nipples. 

“It feels so good, Suku.” You moan, your back arching as pleasure consumes you. Sukuna’s multiple hands are… Everything.

He takes his fingers out of your cunt, moving the wet digits down to your asshole. He spits down on your cunt and spreads his saliva down. He presses his fingers against your asshole as he lowers his head. He kisses from your lower abdomen to your pussy, where his tongue then runs through your folds and then up to your clit. His tongue begins to flick your clit while he pushes two fingers into your asshole, making you moan loudly.

“Fuck– Fuck!” You yell, as Sukuna also pushes two fingers into your cunt again. It’s like music to Sukuna’s ears. It’s too much for you, two fingers in your ass, two in your pussy, and his tongue on your clit. Both holes squeeze around his fingers as his tongue lays flat on your clit.

“Sukuna! Shit, it’s so fucking good.” You bite down your lip, trying to not bring too much attention to yourself. Unluckily for you, as soon as Sukuna knows that you’re making yourself quiet, he stops. He lifts his head up and takes his fingers out of your pussy and asshole, leaving your holes to clench around nothing.

“I want my woman to be loud. Don’t be a fucking bitch, do you hear me?” Sukuna kneels, towering over you again and you nod in response. You use your forearm to hold yourself up and look at him. He undoes his robe, and you lick your lips as you watch your husband get completely naked. Your thighs come together as your eyes fall on his two thick cocks, feeling excitement consume you. Sukuna smirks, watching you prompt yourself up to get his cocks in your mouth. He stops you, his hand going on your chin. “You’re a cute little bitch… You’ll be okay. You can handle them both, right?”

“Yes, lord.” You nod in response, and Sukuna treats you as if you were a doll– More gently than he would treat an actual doll but he moves you as if you were one. He forces you to hold your legs to your chest, and the large tongue on his mouth licks your pussy, and moves down to your asshole. He’ll be sweet with you, especially since you brought back the name that you hadn’t used since your marriage.

The tongue teases the entrance of your asshole but Sukuna stops before anything else happens. He lays his cocks down on your lower abdomen, and you deeply inhale. You wonder how it’ll fit inside of you, but it always fits so you shouldn’t worry.

Sukuna doesn’t bother teasing the cock that goes in your pussy, immediately pushing it in which causes a loud moan to leave your lips. He doesn’t waste time in putting the second cock in your ass, and once you’re stuffed with him, he begins to move. He’s gentler with his thrusts this time, which you certainly appreciate since he didn’t give you time to adjust. 

He’s grown impatient with the idea of you giving him an heir, he can’t waste anymore time. And fuck, he just needs to feel you wrapped around his cocks. You don’t seem to be struggling either way, quite the opposite, you moan in pleasure with his every movement.

“I’m going to fill your womb up with my seed, and you’re going to give me what I deserve.” Sukuna says through gritted teeth to not let out another sound that hints at how good you’re making him feel. Sukuna will never say anything that could hint at him being happy with someone else– The most you’ve ever gotten from him was a marriage… order. Sukuna didn’t propose marriage, he simply told you that you two would be getting married. But you know that the face that he’s making and the way he talks, he’s feeling good. 

“I’ll give you what you want, lord.” You respond as his cocks hits every right spot, filling you with so much pleasure. His thrusts pick up speed, and your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head. Sukuna’s hand begins to play with your clit, and you begin to squeeze around him even more, causing him to hiss. Fuck, he can’t wait to see you big and round with his child. Sukuna can’t wait for his seed to bless your womb and all the changes that it’ll bring to your body. He can’t wait to steal some of the milk that’s meant for his child.

“Going to fill you up with my child.” Sukuna groans as you squeeze around his cocks. It’s too much for you, especially after he’s worked you up. You’re loudly moaning his name, just like he wants you to. He wants the servants to hear how he pleases his woman. It’s all too much for you since he’s filling up both of your holes and toying with your clit.

You shut your eyes, and see white as you squirt all over him, causing a chuckle to leave his throat. He lightly slaps your clit as you make a mess all over him. Sukuna can’t help but praise you for it, which is definitely something rare, “That’s my good wife.”

Sukuna bites his tongue, loving how tight and warm your holes feel. But you won’t get a noise out of him. His hand goes to your throat, however, it just rests there while his thumb presses against your lips, “The only woman worthy of carrying my child.”

Sukuna gets rougher with his thrusts as his release approaches. The thought of you carrying his baby makes him go insane. He’ll make sure it happens soon, he’ll fuck you every night until there’s confirmation that you’re expecting his successor. 

He mutters your name before he fills you up with his cum. He doesn’t dare to pull out until both of your holes are completely filled with his seed. When Sukuna pulls out, he lays down beside you. He brings you into his embrace while you take deep breaths.

Sukuna kisses the top of your head, one of his hands running up and down your back. Maybe Sukuna hasn’t exactly been fond of kissing before, but it’s definitely his favorite thing to do with you now.

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna smut #jujutsu sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n

[comradekatara]

i know that a lot of people take issue with the fact that pakku only agrees to teach katara because he realizes that she’s the granddaughter of the woman he tried to get with a bajillion years ago, but i actually see that moment of him realizing that kanna left to escape their marriage as a moment of self-reflection from him. like, imagine having to contend with the fact that your rancid vibes drove the love of your life away after having just publicly humiliated her fourteen year old granddaughter who was begat on the literal other side of the earth because how that’s far she went to escape him. sokka gets the moment of realizing “oh, men and woman are ontologically equal in their capacities, and divisions between genders are socially assigned and arbitrary,” but that isn’t really pakku’s deal at all. pakku’s deal is more like, “oh, my unyielding insistence on adhering to and imposing unjust patriarchal traditions actually makes me deeply unpleasant to be around and drives my loved ones away. maybe I should take a fucking chill pill perhaps.”

like, the fact that katara ultimately loses the fight and nothing she actually says or does persuades him is interesting, because it means that his reflection is internal, his moment of revelation not brought about by didactic moralizing, but through taking a long, hard look in the mirror, and realizing that being kind is more important than being right. and that’s why he seems to make an effort to be friendlier and more helpful, more so than making any effort to become a male feminist and fight for women’s rights. sokka, for example, initially has a narrow view of gender because his worldview is limited and then it expands, but pakku, by contrast, is literally a member of the white lotus; he is old and worldly, so he clearly already understands that their tribe’s traditions are not ontologically necessitated, but he nonetheless supports them because they benefit him. it is only when he learns that the love of his love literally escaped their tribe and left behind everything she ever knew just to avoid him that he decides to reevaluate his staunch insistence on clinging to his patriarchal values. and who wouldn’t. i mean, that’s gotta fucking hurt!

i know that katara’s fight against him does feel like a grand feminist moment as she fights for her ideals and her rights as a girl, and to her (and to us as the audience) it certainly does feel that way, but to pakku, his change of heart is one of realizing that he should probably stop being an asshole to every woman he’s ever met while he still has a few good years left. a core motif of katara’s arc is that she cannot actually preach her ideals and simply enlighten every asshole she meets, as much as she’d certainly like to; enlightenment comes from within. and so it is pakku’s regrets that motivate him to be kinder, because it’s never too late to change for the better. and that’s kind of beautiful actually.

#pakku #katara #sokka #(ish) #kanna #I feel like ive never really given pakku enough attention #im always kind of just like ‘L+ ratio + bowling pin ass head’ #but he is interesting. he is #thinking abt the nwt in general. is fascinating #I love it sm

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ my life with you (that’s way over now)

synopsis. some people get drunk calls from their exes, maybe even flowers with hand written apologies. you get a knock on your front door with two random kids and a murder case

length. 3.0k words (once more it was supposed to be short)

contents. exes to lovers, ex boyfriend! suguru, gn! reader, slightly deviated from canon (he doesn’t kill the entire village + doesn’t defect), slightly a fix-it fic, blood, murder, child abuse + neglect (canon events with suguru and the twins), angst to slight fluff with hopeful ending (pretty much happy tbh), mentions of family + kids, suguru pretty much being a broke and depressed lil guy lollll

notes. idk what this is but it was written for me i just wanted to write it so here. take it and look away

right before you graduate, you and suguru break up. you don’t want to, but he insists it’s only fair—he can hardly be there for you the way you need him to be, he says. something’s changed in him, it has since that day last year. but still—you don’t want to break up.

so you argue, he stays firm, you cry, he doesn’t change his mind, you break up, he leaves, and the world momentarily collapses.

it’s the way things work, you suppose. they don’t quite always go the way you planned. you graduate not long after that, leaving him behind to throw yourself into work while you toe into the baby steps of adulthood. real adulthood—the jujutsu world has a way of thrusting you into that faster than normal, anyway.

by the time it’s late summer, you get your first apartment. it’s a rundown place—the bathroom tiles look dirty no matter how much you scrub, the walls haven’t been repainted in what seems like decades, and the thermostat never works properly to feel like what the temperature indicates.

but it’s yours—you leave jujutsu high fresh into the real world, paying your taxes and buying your groceries all while you exorcise curses for a living. barely an adult, barely getting by, barely alive as you get up each day and live.

and then suguru comes knocking on your door half past midnight.

“hey,” he says nonchalantly, like there’s nothing wrong with standing there—but you know him better than that. you can hear that detachment in his voice as he stares between your eyes, but not quite in them.

“you—” you start, staring at him incredulously before you decide to give up. there are no surprises with suguru, not anymore you suppose. you don’t really know him anymore. “suguru, it’s midnight,” you sigh—and that’s when you see them: two small children that can’t be much older than five.

bruises are clear as day on their arms, even while standing in the darkness outside. there’s also the slight swollen curve of their eyes, and you can’t help but notice how they’re practically skin and bone. children who have probably not yet even lived for five winters, and you almost wonder if they’ve been through more than you have in you’re entire lifetime.

suguru clears his throat before you can stare at them any longer.

“this is nanako,” he gestures at the blonde, “and this is mimiko.” the brunette one seems more shy, curls behind his leg further as her name is uttered.

you don’t know what to say, so you settle for smiling—you’re not sure if it comes out too genuine, but you try. it’s all you can offer, really.

“hello,” you hum for a moment. and then you turn back to suguru, “it’s midnight.”

“i know.”

“you should be at school grounds.”

“i know.”

“suguru,” you sigh, eyeing the blood stained on his cheek. you don’t like where this is heading. there’s a sick feeling twisting in your gut, bubbling, bubbling, bubbling.

bile. you can taste it. something’s not right.

“where did you find these kids?”

“on a mission,” he says simply, “village heads were keepin’ em locked in a cage like animals. can you believe it?”

again, that casual tone. it almost as easy as humming your favorite tune, as smooth as your skin on freshly washed sheets, as quiet as the first day of snow when the world is still. but something about it is hollow—something’s not right.

“why’d you bring them here? instead of school? shoko should look at them—”

“i told them they’d be safe here.”

they’d be safe anywhere, you think. as long as suguru’s there too. as long they’re under his watchful gaze, nothing could hope to beat down on their youth like it already has their whole lives. but you don’t say that—something tells you he won’t believe you.

maybe not right now.

you don’t look at him. you can’t. something’s not right, but there are children present. so you throw on your best smile and open the door wider, offering them to come in.

your apartment is small, just one bedroom and one bath. there’s hardly enough food for yourself for tonight, you still have to go grocery shopping this week. the missions were lined up back to back to back—but that’s just life as a sorcerer, you suppose. most days you hardly have the energy to eat more than a few apple slices when you return home anyway.

you wave your hand at your place dramatically as you say, “come on in, ladies. your humble abode awaits.”

they giggle slightly at that—it’s the first time suguru hears them laugh. you have that effect, he knew you would. it’s why he brings them here and not there. and…well, there’s a more complicated issue at hand. but that’s for later.

right now…well, for right now, he lets you guide them to the bathroom.

“you have money on you right?” you ask. he blinks, staring at you for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

“spent the last of it on cigarettes this morning.”

great, you think, before sighing and trudging over to grab your wallet as you press a few crisp bills of cash in his hands.

“here.”

“what’s this for?” he raises a brow.

“go buy them clothes,” you look at him like he’s stupid. he might be, in all honesty. just a little. “i’m not putting them back in…those once they’re all cleaned.”

“wha—i’ve never shopped for children before,” he gapes, “and i don’t know what size they are, or—”

“figure it out, suguru,” you say tiredly. it’s half past midnight—by now, you’d be passed out from your mission. he seems to take the hint. “and bring some snacks too. should be enough.”

“fine,” he grumbles—and then he’s walking out the door.

for a second, it feels familiar watching him leave. but then you decide not to dwell on it—there are much more important matters at hand.

you turn to the two girls before crouching in front of them with a gentle smile, “who’s ready for bubbles?”

——————

nanako and mimiko have never had a bubble bath before. you decide to let them taste the first tendrils of youth by splashing in your tiny bathtub while you find suguru for some much needed answers.

he sits on your couch, shirt wrinkled and hair falling loose and blood still staining his cheek as he hunches over his legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he thinks. and thinks. and thinks and thinks and thinks.

you wonder about what—what could be plaguing his mind? a lot you’re sure, but this isn’t suguru. not the one you know, at least.

the one you knew, the voice in your mind hisses—do you really even know him at all anymore?

“so,” you sit on the opposite side of the sofa, curling your legs under yourself as you eye him from the side, “care to explain?”

“i killed them,” he mutters. you go still. “the village heads. i did it without hesitating. that’s bad, right?”

“well fuck, suguru,” you breathe, restless, “that’s certainly not good.”

“i had a reason,” he argues, “all i needed was one.”

“there’s nothing that excuses murder—”

“oh, but we can excuse locking kids in cages, is that right? why? cause they’re sorcerers? they’re not—they’re children.”

“i didn’t say that,” you rub your forehead. this is all too much. too, too much.

being a sorcerer is too much. being in front of suguru is too much.

you finish your third year with a broken heart and graduate in spring—at one point you’d hoped graduating wouldn’t change anything between you and your friends, between you and the boy you loved. everything would be the same, even if you’d leave the place that held you all together—you’d still find a way back to each other, you liked to think. but then it all changes before you can even comprehend.

haibara is dead. nanami is hardly coping. gojo is everywhere but here. shoko is in high demand. suguru is hardly present even when he’s right in front of you. nothing is the same and you don’t think it ever will be. you lose the one thing you count on being yours forever, and now, he’s right here again. but not really here—not with you so much as near you.

suguru has killed people, sitting on your couch with you while the two children he finds are bathing happily in your bathtub.

there’s some irony in that—maybe in a perfect world, suguru and you would sit on the couch, much happier than right now, though. maybe you’d be tucked under his arm and curled into his side as you both chuckle at the happy squeals in the distance. maybe in a perfect world.

but this world is cruel. too cruel, in fact. it forces children to grow up too fast during some times and lets adults continue to be children during others. it’s sickening and all too much.

but this is the world you live in. there’s not much to change in that—not much you can change. maybe sitting on the couch with suguru is what you should be grateful for, whether it’s in this world or another.

“i came here because it’s safe,” he mumbles, quieter this time, “i don’t…i didn’t trust anywhere else.”

something tells you he’s not talking about the kids. you look at him for the first time that night—really look at him. you take in the lost weight, the sunken cheekbones and the bruised under eyes from the lack of sleep. the cracked lips from being chapped and the dry hair that’s lost its normal shine.

something’s not right—you won’t be able to mend it, but you think you can keep it from getting worse.

“it is safe here,” you murmur, nodding in assurance, “but you can’t…i can’t let you do that. not again.”

“what? kill people?” he snorts in dry amusement. it’s quiet for a bit—you open your mouth a few times like you want to say something, but nothing ever comes. he finally decides to fill the silence. “i don’t know what’s right and what’s wrong anymore. people shouldn’t kill. but some people shouldn’t live.”

“i think jujutsu is supposed to save people. not everyone will deserve it, but i suppose we wouldn’t be much better than them if we used it for anything other than that,” you whisper. he looks over at you at that, peers at you deep in thought as he contemplates your words.

“that’s funny,” he chuckles, “i used to think that too.”

“what changed?”

“everything.”

“then change it some more,” you shrug, “until you think it again.” he looks at you incredulously at that, eyeing you like you’re crazy.

“you’re an idiot,” he scoffs.

“says the killer,” you scoff back. you look at him this time, in the eyes and full of conviction, full of promises you couldn’t make before but fully intend to keep now. “don’t kill anyone else and i’ll help you. with those kids, i mean.”

“you want to co parent with me?” he chuckles.

co parent—the word makes your stomach twist. even after all this time, after all the hurt and pain, suguru is easy to imagine that with. he’s easy to imagine anything in the future with, really. he’s always been perfect like that, but you’re starting to realize there’s a lot more imperfections to him than you initially thought.

but it’s okay, you think. if you didn’t stop loving him before, you certainly don’t stop now. blood on his hands or not, he’s yours—even if he doesn’t want to be.

“don’t say it like that,” you murmur softly, hugging your arms around yourself, “please.”

you let yourself be vulnerable for just a moment—not because you want to, but because he needs to know. he needs to know how unfair he’s being and how patient you are with him despite it all. you deserve that much.

“sorry,” he mutters—he has the decency to look away and drop his smile.

“you don’t kill anyone, and i’ll look for a bigger place. deal?”

“for us…all?”

“yes. just until you figure it out, i’ll help you out with them. and then you’ll responsibly use your paycheck as a full time special grade sorcerer and maybe send a few checks my way to say thanks to my good will.”

he chuckles at that, shaking his head. “i’ll repay you,” he hums, tapping his foot. he does that when he’s nervous, you still remember—you could never forget anything about him. “i…i owe you, anyway.”

it’s quiet some more. you don’t know what to say, and quite frankly, you don’t want to say anything at all. but once more, he fills the silence for you after a while.

“what if…” he starts, “what if i want to co parent with you?”

“you dumped me,” you point out, unable to hide the bitterness any longer. it cracks from your tongue through your words like honey that went dry. “remember that? cause i sure remember.”

you’re an adult now, just barely, but an adult all the same. you should handle this the mature way—but you’re still young. still hurt. still blanketed in the fresh wave of nostalgia that leaves you aching with grief.

so you let yourself be bitter. suguru can handle that much after he left you to pick up your shattered pieces.

“i didn’t want to,” he says quietly. “i never wanted to.”

“but you did.”

“i didn’t…you didn’t deserve to see me unstable.”

“you’re not very stable right now either,” you pinch your nose tiredly, “you killed people, suguru. but somehow you can manage to have two kids now. but not me.”

“they need me,” he defends.

“i needed you too,” your voice cracks.

you did. you needed him—and you like to think he needed you too. maybe it wasn’t perfect, nothing ever is, especially not when you fight curses and see their ugliness every day. but that’s the best part of having each other—having something pretty amidst the hideousness.

he left you with more ugly than you knew what to do with. it’s unfair, you think for a moment, unfair that two girls who hardly know him at all have more of him than you ever did. he’d never abandon them—that much you know for sure.

you’ve laughed with him, held him and wiped his tears and kissed him under the moon until it became the sun. you’ve seen him with his hair down and his guard lowered. you’ve seen him in every way possible but in the end, he walked away.

they’ve seen him for less than a day and somehow, he’ll be there forever. there’s something unfair about that and you hate that you’re bitter with children but the world in cruel like that.

suguru slowly inches over—it’s cautious at first, and then he fills the gap all at once. you pretend you don’t feel the way your thighs touch.

“i need you too,” he admits, voice small. there’s a small, shaky crack that eats away at your heart, trying to gnaw into the raw part. the easy to reach part. the part you shouldn’t let him see anymore. “i…i always needed you. i’m sorry.”

“we were supposed to need each other,” you sniffle.

“we do,” he slowly slumps his head onto your shoulder. you let him stay there—don’t dare move a muscle in case he pulls away. “you’re the only thing that keeps me stable. i don’t think that’s fair.”

“needing someone isn’t unfair, suguru,” you scoff.

“okay,” he grabs your hand, squeezing. for the first time, he lets it all go. lets tears slowly slip from the corners of his eyes as he slumps into your side. he cries for riko. for kuroi. for satoru and the time he lost him for a moment. for their youth. for haibara. for not being enough even when he shouldn’t have had to be. somewhere amidst all that, your arms wrap around him and he’s pulled into your chest—that familiar feeling of your fingers threading into his hair makes the world start spinning again. “i need you,” he chokes.

“okay,” you say shakily, nodding slowly as you let yourself hope, “as long as you don’t stop this time.”

he buries his face into your chest, and you kiss the crown of his head.

cruelty is an unstoppable force. your love for suguru is an immovable object. neither is going anywhere, but perhaps they can coexist.

“satoru’s gonna have a massive headache when he explains this one to the higher ups,” you snort after a while.

he laughs into your shirt, real for the first time in a long time. “i’ll buy him something sweet. should make up for it,” he hums. and then he looks up, smiles innocently as he asks, “wanna lend me some cash? i’ll pay you back when i’m a responsible handler of money.”

“you’re hopeless,” you chuckle, “but at least you’re here.”

————— BONUS —————

“okay,” satoru starts, holding his hands up in surrender as he stands before the higher ups. damn old geezers, he thinks. “so he did kill a person or two…but—”

“there is no excuse,” a voice hisses.

“he didn’t mean it,” he huffs indignantly, “it was an accident. those can happen sometimes.”

“what—”

“he’s going through a phase, okay? let him work through it, he’ll be fine.”

“that’s not—”

“i’ll let him off the hook this time,” satoru grins, pushing his glasses up his nose as he shrugs, “he’s got a family now, y’know? kids and a spouse, and they’re looking for a home. can’t take that away from them.”

“he’s not even married—”

“it’ll happen eventually,” he insists, “so let’s all just calm down, yeah? great, thanks!”

“gojo—”

“see ya!”

he walks out, flashing an obnoxious peace sign at the higher ups as they hiss at him to return as he’s walking out. that takes care of that, he thinks, as long as suguru doesn’t make his life harder and kill more people, he can handle it—you did promise him kikufuku if he does.

satoru is babygirl defender no. 1 ain’t nobody doing it like my guy 🤞🏽 he would be loyal to you while you were in jail no doubts

#teepods.writings #fics. #geto x reader #geto x you #geto angst #geto fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk angst #jjk fluff #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru angst #geto suguru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[deadsetobsessions]

“Tim. Timmy. Ancients, kid, what are you doing?!”

Danny Phantom smacked away the instinctual terror of seeing an eight year old dangling out of a third story window.

“I gotta go take pictures of Batman and Robin! They’re out tonight!”

Danny thought that his barely healed vivisection wound might bust open from the sheer stress.

“Setting aside how you even know the patrol schedule of honest to god vigilantes, why’d you choose the window? The house is literally empty, just walk out the front door, for Ancient’s sake.”

Tim paused, a motion Danny was overwhelmingly thankful for, and blinked sheepishly.

“Um… for the aesthetic?”

Danny allowed the silence to settle between them before dropping his head into his waiting hands. Tim panicked.

“You- you can’t stop me!”

And yeah, Danny really can’t. In the months he’s been mooching off of the Drakes (not that they’ll notice), Danny’s learned that Tim Drake is nothing but relentless in the pursuit of whatever he sets his mind on. Whether thet might be putting hot chocolate in his cereal (which Danny doesn’t actually mind) or, apparently, stalking a pair of vigilantes.

He wanted to hack into the library cameras? Danny had to hover just to make sure the kid didn’t get caught after arguing for an hour about it.

He walked out of that argument with a loss, yes, but he also let Tim know that Danny cared about him. Danny also walked out of that argument with a new hatred for Janet and Jack Drake and his mind (just as diabolical as Tim’s) whirring with plans to haunt them.

Tim is never ever introducing his new little brother to Tucker. Ever.

“Okay. I don’t want to see you take unnecessary risks, but I’m also aware that I can’t really stop you. So. I’ll go with you.”

Maybe this is like… Tim’s obsession? When he put it that way, Danny lost the fight to prevent this tiny kid from what clearly is the only joy in his poor life.

“But…!” Tim’s eyes darted to Danny’s chest, the vivisection scars still fresh in his mind.

“They’re healed.” Danny pulled his dumbass little brother off the window sill, core settling as Tim follows willingly. “I’ll make us invisible and fly with you behind Batman and Robin so you can get even better shots. You can’t make any noise, though. That camera got a shutter sound, right?”

“Yeah!” Tim’s face brightened and Danny melted. He shoved a bottle of the (incredibly stinky but helpful in a pinch) ecto contaminated tap water into a backpack, along with some snacks and a blanket for when Tim gets cold. Danny’ll be fine, he’s got a Space Core. The cold his kind of his thing.

“Cool. We’ll stay out of earshot. If things starts to get too dicey, we’re heading home, okay?”

“Okay!” The look Tim shot him is full of trust and adoration and it makes Danny’s human heart squeeze painfully. “C’mon! I don’t want to be late!”

“We need to talk about your stalking tendencies later,” Danny said fondly.

“I’m not stalking them! I’m observing them!”

“Uh-huh,” Danny drawled, picking Tim up and making them intangible and invisible. “They’re not a bird observatory and also, even the birds in the observatory knows they’re being watched. Batman and Robin clearly doesn’t.”

Danny felt more than saw Tim’s pout.

He laughs as they fly just below the Gotham-brand of toxic smog. He waves to the City’s Spirit as Tim cranes his head around to catch sight of Batman and Robin.

“There!”

Danny obliged. With Danny’s flight, Tim got much better- much closer- photos than he would have originally.

Danny hung back as the pair of vigilantes swooped down to take care of a mugging.

“Wanna mess with them?” He grinned down at his little brother, canines glinting.

Tim looked up at him, admiration and mischievousness in his gaze. “Yes.”

Gotham parted her clouds in response to their glee.

——

Dick Grayson, AKA Robin, finally understood why criminals are so creeped out by him.

Other than the whole flippy child kicking grown people’s asses and winning thing, obviously (that, and Batman loomed menacingly behind him everytime a criminal even looked at Robin wrong).

Batman had picked up on it first, but the for entirety of their patrol, they kept hearing eerie little giggles and laughter. Haunting them. Never distracting. But persistent. And so creepy. He got goosebumps.

“B, I wanna go home.”

“Hm.” That’s a resounding yes if Dick’s ever heard one.

Maybe Alfred can chase away the giggles and chuckles.

Robin shudders and follows the Bat home.

——

Danny lowered the temperature as he held Tim up near Batman’s cowl so his brother could giggle menacingly. He knew for a fact that any recording device would get completely cram led by the sheer output of ambient ectoplasm he’s emitting. Plus, it freaked Robin out and raised the hairs on the back of the vigilantes’ heads. He tones it down when he noticed Tim rubbing his hands together.

He let out a quiet laugh, enjoying the flight with his brother in his arm and the light of the stars (thanks, Gotham) at his back.

——

Danny: oh, this kid’s got an Obsession, gotta let him do it safely, he’s a liminal from all that tap water

Danny: *forgets Tim isn’t a ghost nor is he from Amity and is therefore extremely breakable*

——

Danny and Tim: doing crime is a good bonding activity

Batman and Robin, who wants to say no it isn’t but they’re literally a pair of illegal vigilantes:

——

Dick as Robin: *cackles*

Tim, learning habits from stalking them: *giggles*

Gotham Criminals: *fear*

#danny phantom #bamf danny phantom #dick grayson #tim drake is a menace #tim drake #baby tim drake #Tim Drake is a little shit #Danny Phantom is a little shit #they’re messing with the bats #and getting away with it #inspired by dick’s iconic Robin cackle #that creepy lil shit #i love them your honor #they’re brothers your honor #Gotham’s F grade tap water #thanks scarecrow #Gotham’s tap water #dc x dp #dp x dc

[fallenneziah]

Summary: You've been known to sleep around with the soldiers on base. It wasn't a secret. It also wasn't a secret that you fake most of your orgasms... Ghost takes that as a challenge.

CW: PiV, afab! Reader, uses she/her, multiple orgasms, rough sex, creampie, oral (m! receiving), overstimulation, fingering, and the reader is pretty much a barracks bunny. Not beta read... still doing smut though I can never tell if it gets better.

A/n: I really wanted to do kinktober but I was late... So um, have this??

It wasn't a secret that you were something of a barracks bunny. You caught the eye of recruits, and whoever of them made your insides tingle you were more than likely to spend a night with. You didn't care to try and keep it a secret. Although, your sexual experiences with most of the recruits and the younger men were… less than world-shaking.

They were good, their dick often leaving you mostly satisfied and feeling like you've had a five-inch stake driven into your cunt for ten to twenty minutes.

But you were also rumoured and soon confirmed to fake most of your orgasms. Sure, the hookups were fun, but you did end up faking most of your orgasms because it simply didn't do it for you.

Whether the recruit was rough or gentle, something was missing that pushed you over the edge.

But hey, you let the recruits get their load off you, so they weren't complaining either way.

Except for a certain someone.

Ghost was hardly the person you'd find sleeping around with anyone, men or women. The occasional quick fuck void of attachment and emotions back home in his small Manchester flat wasn't new though.

Once he fucked someone's brains out, they were out the door and not to set foot again. He didn't think anything of this. It's how it was, how it would continue to be.

But the constant talk of your happy little ass sleeping with every relatively attractive recruit in sight ticked something inside him.

Maybe he secretly wished he could get a hold of you, tame you down, get you down on your knees, and ensure you stayed.

Perhaps the idea of making you his bitch and getting you away from the other sources of pleasure you could find.

And then he learned about it. Little missy wandering around, getting fucked left and right, and every orgasm has to be driven out of her by herself. Something about that. About knowing you faked each orgasm with each soldier just to fuck yourself silly until it hit right.

These recruits were insufferable. None of them could drive you out of this little spiral you thought you had to control. Fuck a man, fake an orgasm and then sleep it off like nothing.

That's the challenge. That's what Ghost saw. A challenge and a reward. And he knew you'd been wanting to sleep with him for ages. He knew, and he wasn't as dimwitted as some people liked to think.

He practically bristled when he saw you walk into the canteen that afternoon, hips swinging, a small stiff in your step, but you looked mostly in one piece. Another recruit following behind you, looking on a mission to tell his squadmates of the night he had with you.

It made his hands tighten, and whiskey eyes lock on you as you walked past, seeming fine regardless of the night. His hand reached out, firmly gripping your hip so you couldn't go any further, capturing your attention.

"Lieutenant?" You asked, your eyes shifting from his large gloved hand up his forearm to meet his gaze.

"You best get yourself in check, soldier," he warned in a low tone, his hand squeezing your hip, nudging you back, his voice growing quieter.

"My barracks. Midnight."

Your cheeks went a little pink. You had the hots for the lieutenant for a lifetime. Part of you felt he would give you something you desperately needed, yet he's never spared you more than a glance.

You smirk softly. "You got it."

He doesn't respond at all. His hand releases you, and he lets you on your way.

You made it to your table, sitting among a small group you'd accumulated over your few years on base. The thought of getting in a bed with your lieutenant was now fresh on your mind, already having your stomach twisting.

However… You'd yet to meet someone truly who could make you feel how you wanted to. Roughed up, played with, fucked until your brain was smoother than a stone, and your name was a challenge to recall.

Was it that hard to ask?? You couldn't help feeling you might be sourly disappointed.

But you'd wait. Also making sure things in your room are charged just in case the night turned as you hoped it wouldn't.

The day drew on, and you continued through your tasks, finishing your work just in time to catch a shower and spend some alone time in your room as you pleased before your wristwatch beeped.

It was about time to see a certain lieutenant.

Ghost was waiting for you. How you figured he wouldn't was a wonder, but you didn't expect him to be standing there. Right there.

You slipped into the room, closing the door behind you. The lights were off, and his silhouette blocked the little light coming through the closed blinds. Your fingers search for the light switch, but his hand stops you.

Gloves still on, he pulls your wrist away, the other hand finding the lock on the door behind you and flicking it closed.

You already felt your heart rate picking up in excitement as he maneuvered through the darkness of his room, keeping you against the wall and at his whim.

"I didn't think it would start like this." You say, your back arching off the wall a tad before relaxing against when his figure pressed closer.

"Wrong of you to think you'd get a say."

His rumbled voice makes you shiver softly.

"I'm not complaining."

He seemed to scoff, pressing against you and making you suck in a sharp breath. His crotch pressing against your own, his large hands gripping your waist to hold you in place.

"Not yet."

He sounded like a predator about to sink his teeth into you, and it was such a turn-on.

His gloved hands grip your hips, lifting you from the floor and pulling your legs up around his waist. You can feel the thick outline of his cock, and it makes you gasp softly.

He takes you to the bed, dumping you onto the sheets. His hands find your clothes, pulling them from you, stripping you down to your underwear. He wasn't wasting time, your eyes adjusting and letting you see more of his figure clearly as he moved your limbs how he wanted to.

He was commanding, your body felt like putty in his hands, and you weren't sure you wanted to fight it.

Your cunt throbbed as he tugged you up the bed by your hips, crawling between your legs and forcing them apart.

His rough gloves feel foreign against your skin, tugging your underwear from your hips and tossing the thin fabric off the bed.

"Stay still." His voice rumbles through your body again. Your first thought of those scarred lips going for what they wanted. One hand kept your hips still, situating his body between your legs so you couldn't do much to fight him if you wanted to. You shiver, watching him pull his mask up over the bridge of his nose and pull his glove off between his teeth.

The second glove gets pulled off, and he lets it fall onto the bed next to you. The sound of his belt coming undone, the leather sliding against itself. His zipper came down, and he freed his cock.

You were already squirming, wanting to feel it. His large hand presses against your stomach, pushing you back down into the bed. "Easy. Keep still." His hand slides back down, your breathing stopping briefly when you felt his calloused thumb rub your clit. He was quiet, pressing up into your body, gently massaging it.

It makes you shiver, his index finger rubbing through your labia and down to your slit, tracing his fingers around your entrance. Feeling how tight you were despite your nasty habit of seeking out other men. He knows you could be so much tighter, knowing what a fucking slut you were.

Pressing his finger into your entrance, the warmth of your walls tightening around him, feeling him slip inside you. He doesn't give a warning before his second finger presses into you, both invading the warmth of your cunt. "That's it." His fingers pump into you, rubbing along your walls, rough callouses giving you a hint of edge with each stroke.

Your hands grip the sheets as he works his fingers inside you, a third slipping in as he feels the stretch of your walls. His palm rubs your clit, making you suck in a sharp breath and moan. It was a little too loud, causing Ghost to withdraw his fingers from you and grab your thigh.

He flips you over, his hand grabbing your face and shoving it into the bed. You startle a little, tensing up, but he knocks your knees apart again and forces his fingers back in, his other hand keeping your head firmly planted in the pillows. Your cunt clenches around his fingers. They work inside you quicker, pressing into your walls and driving inside you.

"Stay. I never allowed you to get loud, pretty thing." Ghost rumbles, feeling your cunt clench, dripping in excitement as his large fingers pick up pace inside your cunt.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly you were on edge. Your hands grip the sheets, hips starting to rock against his hand. Your breath comes out in small pants, muffled by the pillow. His large fingers felt so good inside you. Better than any recruit you've laid with.

You squirm, and as quickly as you do, his hand moves from your head to span your ass, cupping the perfectly round flesh and squeezing it between his fingers. His fingers pick up pace, driving deep into your cunt, fast and barely giving you time. Slick popping from his quick pace inside you. His fingers bullying your cunt, finding your g-spot and hitting relentlessly.

Your hips twitch, your back arching, and you can't help but moan loudly when you hit that first orgasm.

Ghost smirks, the scar along his lip pulling the skin up slightly. He pulls his fingers out, drawing them apart to see your slick and spend ripping between them. Your body shivering a little. "One." He counts, tasting your cum on his fingers.

He turns you onto your back, leaning over your body and pressing his lips to yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth. The taste of your cum and his saliva made your head spin, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as he kisses you.

You moan into his mouth as his hand slides between your legs, cupping your cunt and rubbing your clit. Your hips jump a little, his rough palm pressed against your lower pelvis, his fingers teasing along your slick cunt.

He nips your bottom lip, pushing you away before the kiss can properly end and keeps you held down in the sheets, his hand curling around your throat while the other continues to rub through your labia. Teasing your clit, rubbing it and pinching it. "Cumming for me already…" Ghost rumbled. "Just like I knew you would."

"I'm not done with you yet."

You moan, your head pressing back into the sheets as you start to rock your hips. Trying to feel more of his rough fingers, wanting his fingers back inside you.

"Beg." His tone is firm, and commanding. You look up at him through half-lidded eyes.

"Please," you moan, watching him grin and press his fingers against your hole.

"Please, what?"

You squirm, pressing your hips into his fingers. "Please fuck me with your fingers."

You could swear he was mocking you, slowly pushing his fingers back into your cunt.

"You can do better than that," Ghost taunts.

You whimper, trying to nudge your hips back, and you feel his fingers pull away. He forces your thigh further out again, teasing your clit with his thumb. You mumble under your breath, trying to lean away, his fingers stroking along your slit again.

"Please… I need them. I need this, please." You whine, once again trying not to squirm with your desperation growing in place of your excitement.

His fingers press back into your cunt, and you moan. Your hips jolt, rolling against his hand as he drives his fingers into your cunt, hitting deep inside you. "Fuck. Fuck, I- ah-"

He doesn't hold you down like before, allowing your hips to move, fucking his fingers, your slick making obscene sounds.

Your lips part, moaning over his hand, still firm on your throat, fingers pulling you apart. Driving into you, his eyes watching your face in the darkness with each desperate thrust up into his fingers. Looking like a pathetic whore. But that's how Ghost wanted you.

That's how he liked it. He would ruin you. He'd show those recruits how it was done, and cut you down a peg. He'd get you so overfucked you'd only be able to remember his name.

His fingers bullying your g-spot, knuckles coated in your slick, the walls of your cunt flexing around him. Once again, before long, he had you drawn out, moaning loudly.

He pulls his fingers out of you, the sticky string slick between his fingers as he pulls them apart. "Two," he counts, watching you pant, hips squirming and thighs quivering.

Ghost leans down, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. His fingers press to your lips, pushing them past. You groan, sucking on his fingers, tasting you on his hand. Sucking them and running your tongue along them until he pulled out, lightly slapping your face. His other hand released your throat.

He moved back on the bed, planting his feet back on the floor and pushing down his jeans over his thighs more, taking his large cock in his hand.

"Hands and knees, sweetheart."

You panted, knees still quivering, but you shifted onto your stomach, onto your hands and knees. Looking up at him, smirking. The smirk didn't bother Ghost, he already had you under him. He was already the first way through ruining you, so many would never really pleasure you again like he did.

Tapping his cock against your cheek, letting you feel the weight and the size against you.

"Open," he orders, watching you part your lips and lean forward to take the head between your lips. Your tongue runs across it, eyes shut.

He gripped your hair, yanking you forward and forcing you to take half his cock down your throat. Gagging on it tears stinging the corners of your eyes as he forced you further down, fucking your mouth.

"If you're gonna suck it, do it like you mean it." He spits, driving his cock into your throat, hearing your desperate noises, trying to draw in the air over his cock suffocating your throat. Feeling the smooth skin of his heavy cock against your tongue. The skin pulls back over his head along your tongue.

You could feel him, his cock dragging deep into your warm throat and then pulling out, giving you a much steadier rhythm for redemption.

He didn't give you a chance to take control, keeping his grip firm on your hair and driving himself into your throat.

You gag around him, feeling the burn in the back of your throat, eyes watering as he keeps you there, your lips stretching around his thick shaft, spit leaking from the corners of your lips.

The heaviness of his cock on your tongue, salty pre-cum pooling at the back of your throat, tongue gliding over throbbing cockhead.

Ghost pulls his cock from your mouth, slapping your cheek with it and then forcing it back between your lips. He pulls your head back, pressing his cock back into your throat, his balls slapping your chin as he fucks your throat.

The sting in your eyes and the way your lungs burned made your head spin. You could feel your cunt dripping, wanting to feel him inside you.

He didn't let you keep it that steady.

Your head bobbed along his cock, spit coating his length and slicking up your cheeks, the sound of him fucking your mouth. It's what he wanted, making you choke and gag on his cock.

It let you know who was in control. Not you. You wouldn't have one ounce of control.

You were desperate to try and keep up with his rough pace, his hips snapping into your mouth. You moaned around him, looking up at him. His hand tightened in your hair, keeping your head still while he fucked your mouth, groaning under his breath.

He pulled out, holding you firmly in place so you couldn't chase his cock.

"On your back. Now."

You do as he says, turning onto your back and spreading your legs.

Ghost pushes his jeans down further, grabbing your legs and tugging them around his waist. His hand presses against your lower stomach, pushing you down into the bed while his other hand grips the base of his cock.

You whimper, trying to keep your eyes on him and watch him as he strokes his cock, keeping you in place. You attempt to squirm, but he keeps you still, ordering you to stay quiet. He drags his cock through your soaked cunt, pre-cum slathering across your clit and dripping down into the mess of your cunt.

"Lieutenant, please," you whimper, hips trying to press up, and he pushes you back down.

"Please what?" Ghost asks, smirking down at you. He was so in control here, you were the one under him. You were the one who was going to get fucked tonight.

"Please, I need you inside me."

"Mmm, you're such a slut… bet you'd take any cock, wouldn't you sweetheart?" His cock smacks against your clit, making your hips jump a little.

"Just yours."

He smirked. "That's what I like to hear."

He pushed forward, slowly pushing the head of his cock inside you. Your breath catches in your throat, back arching, trying to force more of him into you. He presses his palm into your lower stomach, pushing you back into the mattress. His cock gradually slides inside you, stretching you more, feeling the tightness of your cunt trying to handle a size it wasn't used to.

His hips press forward, feeding his cock into your cunt and stretching you out so nicely. You felt so good around him. Tight, warm, clenching at the size of his cock.

"That's it, such a good girl."

He starts a slow pace, driving his cock in and out of your cunt. Making you feel him, feel every inch of his cock. His hand moves from your stomach, finding your clit and rubbing it roughly. It was too much, the sensations making you moan loudly.

"Shhh, quiet. You don't get to do that," Ghost orders.

You whimper, nodding your head and trying to lean your head back into the pillow. His cock plunges into you harder.

"Do I need to gag you again, sweetheart?"

He gripped your hair and pulled your head back harshly to look back at him. His hips snapped forward, thrusting his cock deep into your cunt.

"N-no. I won't." You say.

His grip loosens, but he continues to fuck you, hips snapping forward suddenly. Your thighs squeeze either side of his hips, heels digging into the skin of his ass as he lifts your hips with his cock.

"Mmm, I think it's more you don't want to." Ghost says.

You whimper, nodding your head. You wanted to be a good girl for him. You want to be quiet for him. But it was almost impossible as he fucked your brain out.

"You're so wet for me, so tight. I bet you cum just from thinking about me, don't you?"

You nod your head, moaning and biting your lip to try and stifle your noises.

His hands grip your waist, pulling you down into his cock and making you take it all.

Your pussy throbs around his cock, his thickness, utterly wrecking your cunt. His cock bullying your insides, finding your g-spot and making you come undone again, orgasming around his cock.

Ghost pulls his cock out, watching you squirm and moan loudly. "Three." He counts. He flips you back over, firmly pressing his hand into your hip.

He leans over you, shoving your face into the pillow and spanking your ass. "I thought I told you to be quiet."

He pushes his cock back inside you, gripping your hips and holding you still as he fucks you.

"One was for being a good girl."

You yelp as he slaps your ass again.

"Two was for being a slut."

You whimper, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

He keeps his hand pressed into your hips and keeps your ass upturned. His hips snap forward, driving his cock deep inside your cunt.

"And three will be for never listening to me. Because you're a bad girl. My bad girl."

His cock smacks against you when he pulls out, making you moan loudly. His hand moved from your hip, jerking your chin up and forcing you to look into his eyes.

"What are you?" He asks, cock slamming back into you.

"I'm a bad girl," you mewl out.

"That's right, baby," He says, leaning down and biting your neck. You cry out, moaning loudly. His hand grabbed your hair, tugging your head back and holding your neck.

"Mine." Ghost growls into your ear.

He slams his cock deep inside you, making you moan loudly. Your pussy clenched around him, gripping his cock tightly. He grunted, his hips thrusting forward and slamming his cock into you.

You cry out in pleasure, yet want it to stop.

He smirks widely. "Look at you…" He chuckles, leaning into your ear. "Like this for me… just like this… like a slut."

You moan loudly, your cunt throbbing around his cock. Your hands grip the sheets tightly, trying to keep yourself steady as he fucks you.

"Such a good girl…" He groans, his voice husky and breathless. "Such a good slut."

You shiver, nodding your head.

Ghost pushes your body down into the bed, lifting your ass further and continuing to fuck you. His fingers grip your ass tightly, his nails digging into your skin. "Do you like this? Getting fucked by your lieutenant?" He asks, his hand moving to your lower back, pushing you down further. "Fuck, who am I kidding… I know you do."

You whimper pitifully. You were so close again.

Ghost slaps your ass again, smirking. "I like it when you're a slut for me. What about you, baby?"

You whimper, nodding your head. "I like being your slut."

"I think you do, sweetheart…" He says.

You nod your head, moaning and whimpering in excitement. Ghost smirks, giving your ass a hard slap. "Beg for it…"

You whimpered. "Please- please fuck-" You say, moaning out.

"Keep begging…" He says, pulling out. He pulls your hips up, making you kneel up on the bed. He pushes your chest down, causing your ass to stick up in the air, exposed and ready for his cock. He spanks your ass, making you yelp.

"I bet you'd like to be fucked by me all day, wouldn't you? Be my little cock-sleeve." He says, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

He slaps your ass again, spanking you.

You whimper, trying to plead with him.

He grips your hips, slamming into you hard. His cock drives inside you, wrecking your cunt and filling you. His fingers dig into your hips and ass, holding you still as he fucks you.

He pulls you up, pushing his cock deep inside you and making you cry. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you back into him.

"Oh god," you moan, your head leaning back into his shoulder.

"Fuck, you feel so good, baby…" Ghost groans.

"Please," you cry out. "N-no more…" The overstimulation to your pussy was too much.

His hips snap hard against you, his cock thrusting into you hard.

He pulls you back up, making you sit up on his lap. He leans you back against his chest, his hand moving to your hip. He registers your cry of pleasure as his cock thrusts into you again and again, his hips snapping forward.

He reaches around you, finding your clit and rubbing it roughly. You moan loudly, leaning back against him.

Ghost leans down and nibbles at your neck.

You feel his cock swell inside you, pulsing and throbbing inside you. He could feel his undoing soon. He bites down on your shoulder, making you cry out in pleasure. He thrusts his cock into you, hitting deep inside you and making your toes curl.

He grabs your hips, pulling them down and burying his cock deep inside you. He feels his cock throb and swell, filling your cunt with his seed.

He grunts loudly, holding you down against his cock as he rides out his orgasm. You moan, gripping his shoulders and pushing back against him.

"Mmm… that's it sweetheart… take all of it… cum for me…" Ghost moans.

His cock throbs inside you, spurting his load into your cunt. You moan loudly, feeling your release. Your legs tremble, thighs shaking as you cum around his cock. One last time before your body felt completely boneless, the dry orgasm pumping around the load of seed filling you deep, swelling in your cunt. Ghost pants, holding you up against him as he breathes heavily, your body limp in his arms. He kisses your shoulder softly, rubbing your belly.

"That was… mmm…" Ghost says, licking his lips and kissing your neck. "So good…"

You pant softly, leaning your head back and looking up at him. "I'm tired."

He chuckles lightly. "Go ahead and sleep… I'll clean you up."

"Okay." You smile a little. He helps you lie down on the bed, pulling his softening cock from your cunt. You feel the warm mess seep from you, coating your thighs and making you shiver.

#writing #cod smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #call of duty smut #kinktober i guess?? #kinktober