slasherfucker101

[slasherfucker101]

SUPERMASSIVE BLACK HOLE

Clark finally corners you after you'd been avoiding him.

TAGS: 18+, smut, villain!reader, primal play, enemies to lovers, red kryptonite!clark kent, anal, hate fucking, intercrural, clark uses his powers on reader, unprotected p-in-v, mentions of blood & violence, finger-fucking, sexual tension, tummy bulge, multiple orgasms, dub con, they fuck NASTY is all i'm gonna say (3k wc)

Red Kryptonite — Removes inhibition from Kryptonians.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE It was meant to be a quick S&R. Subdue & Retrieval as Clark liked to call it, though the Justice Gang disagreed wholeheartedly. The mutant gator that was loose in the heart of Metropolis had caused significant destruction, and the gang's interference had only spurred to rile the beast out even more. Its' tails swinging like a deadly pendulum, flinging vehicles left & right.

Clark had been putting out fires as it came, catching trucks with ease so it wouldn't cause any further damage or harm to people. Or in other words, dealing with the Justice Gang's mess. Guy was entirely ready to eliminate the target, but a flash of blue and red blocks his line of vision.

The man turns around, holding his palms up. "I've got it handled from here." Clark doesn't wait for the confirmation as he turns his attention to the beast, bracing himself onto the scaly creature that bound by green energy-like ropes.

"Go—lly," he grunts, shoving it further into a culvert. "What the hay is up with you, big dude?"

The reptile hissed and thrashed, its' snout dripping with fluids that wasn't just gator-liquid. Thick, tar-coloured goop oozes from the teeth, glowing faintly in the floodlights.

His nose wrinkled at the metallic & chemical scent assaulting his nose, shaking it off in annoyance. Clark's arms tensed around the torso of the gator and twists suddenly, snapping at his forearm but missing by just a few millimeters, the spray of whatever came out of its' throat had definitely gotten on him.

"Oh are you kidding me?" He rasps out, high pitched, wincing as he attempts to wipe away at the fluid that was quickly absorbing into wherever it came into contact his skin. The sting was dulling beneath, spreading. Clark pulls the sleeves of his suit higher on his forearms.

The veins running from his hand and up arm pulsed an unnatural faint red. "Huh." He murmurs. Clark his arm once, and then again. No dice. It doesn't prick quite as much anymore, so he turns his attention back to the gator, nudging it into a transport cage, slamming the hatch shut.

"Alright. Off to quarantine you go." Clark turns to let the scientists headed rush in from the high-tech blue gates at the other end of the culvert, the sound of the siren blaring all around has him turning back.

"What's —…what's with the sirens?"

One of the researchers look up at Clark. Rubbing behind their ears nervously. "There was break-in earlier…couple of gadgets & inventory swiped." Clark bends at his shoulder, hands tucked behind his back politely while he surveys the footage the bespectacled men offered him. Timestamp indicating just five minutes ago.

Clark watches, and then his breath catches at the familiar curve of hips and curved mask that sat on her eyes.

He sighs, dragging his hand down his face, looking out of the entrance, "I'll deal with it."

The researcher looks up at Clark, confused. "Oh, don't you need the rest of the footage?"

"There's no need. Thank you."

Clark waves at the men, stepping out of the culvert. His footing stutters as he rubs at his arm where the glowing red veins lingered. The more he flexed his hand, the more it glowed. Irritation filled him at the situation in place of his endless patience for hero-work-related-after-sprays. Weird.

That's when a shift in the shadows catches in his peripherals. Half shadowed in the corners of the abandoned warehouse rooftop opposite the makeshift lab. Crouched before a duffel, gloved fingers twisting around vials.

"You're not very easy to find."

You whip your head to the source of the noise. Letting out a prolonged groan as Clark floated up, boots touching the edge of the roof.

It was no secret that he'd been trying to corner you. Every single time the outcome was the same. He'd catch a glimpse of you before you'd slipped from his fingertips. Whether it was losing you in a crowd, or a disturbance you caused that had him grasping tooth and nails to help them instead of catching you.

In reality, Clark could easily do so if he really wanted to. But he never did. He stopped himself every time, even when the frustration filled him. You deserved to allow him into your orbit in your own time, deserved your own autonomy. Plus, he didn't have an actual reason to hunt you down either, it wasn't like you'd been vagrantly unhelpful.

He'd quickly learned that every single crime on your ledger, contributed to something bigger than yourself. Even if you did enjoy stirring chaos in your wake.

But that wasn't the issue. It was the fact you'd been blatantly avoiding him. Clark just wanted to thank you. Especially with how you'd rehabilitated him back to health after his run-in with that bewilder-beast weeks ago. You'd just vanished, never being at your loft, never letting him talk to you. Like he was just someone you crossed off your list.

It bugged him. More than he'd ever want to admit.

"And you're easy to run from, supershit."

You tossed the strap of your duffel over your shoulder, flashing him a honey sweet smile that had his jaw tensing. Before he could get a word out, you sprung off the roof, landing on a nearby ledge, and skittering off like you usually had.

Clark watches you, the pulse on his forehead throbbing in anger. He's never lost control of his emotions this easy. Not like when he'd confronted Luthor about taking Krypto.

No this, this felt different.

All the failed attempts of reaching you bubbled in his chest all at once. His figure blurs ahead, air snapping at the sudden movement. Clark doesn't realise how fast he'd moved until he was there, hovering a few feet before you. Head tilted slowly, shadow dwarfing the neon signs around.

You froze in place, mid-sprint. His presence bordered on ominous, you couldn't put a finger on what exactly it was. He wasn't looking at you with steady, gentle eyes any longer. It felt darker.

"Stop running from me."

Your heart thrums at your ears at the low rasp of his voice. No boy-scout level smile or exasperation, just a decisive command shoved your way. Your eye twitches before you turn heel, ducking underneath the buzzing signs, scaling down the ledge with an urgency you normally hadn't felt.

The stillness from behind you had you relieved. And you slump back into the alley walls. Trying to catch your breath, except —

"Oh fuck me." You choke out a gasp when the gravel crackles beneath you at the force of Clark's landing. The aged concrete exploding upwards, leaving a billowing dust cloud in a distance of the figure kneeled in it.

Your hand snapped to your chest. Coughing as the particles filled your lungs. You squinted at him when he straightened up from the shadows. His veins burned a vivid red, searing through the blue of his suit. His eyes glowed a faint red, before they turn to its' original shade.

"Okay…" You begin out, palms raising up. Gut twisting at his new 'look.' "There's no way you've got this big of a stick up your ass over a couple of stolen vials." Your tone was mocking, but unable to hide the weight of fear in your chest.

Clark huffed out a humourless laugh. "I don't care about that." He steps closer, head lolled to the side. "I care that you've been running from me."

The brick behind you sizzles beneath your arms. Straps of your duffel frying to an absolute crisp until it thuds to the ground. You let out a loud gasp, more annoyed than scared now.

"That…was a Lululemon duffel bag you fucking dick." Fueled by the newfound anger in you, you lunged at him with a few steps. Clark hadn't moved, letting you slam him back into the wall.

The bricks rattled loudly with an outline of his back, and then another indent when you swing at him once, the force of his head thwacking to the wall creating a slight crackle. Which goes to show how painful the blow would've been.

But when you look up, he was smiling. Rolling his shoulder with your palm still flush on his throat. "You're holding your punches." He spits the blood out onto the ground, his own palm coming out to soothe his jaw.

The red flared over the whites of his eyes and you pull away like you were burned. He was under the influence of someone, or something.

He catches your arm before you could slip away again with a bruising hold.

Pulling you once, and then slamming you into the man-shaped indent of the brick wall. Dust pooling when the force has your back create a smaller shape in its' place. "Ugh—!"

Clark roughly grabs your jaw, tipping your head up and to the side so he could lean down. Breath brushing your ears in a low gravel.

"I told you. I just want to talk."

Your eyes were visibly twitching, clearly of pain. It became abundantly obvious just how much strength he had over you. You're grabbing helplessly around his wrist, clawing at him painfully. "O—Ok, Okay! So t…ugh…alk.." You managed through gritted teeth. He eases his hold on your jaw, pulling back just enough to drag his gaze over you.

"Your loft has been empty for weeks."

You're taking a breath, as much as you even can with how he was holding your jaw in place. "Cuz you freakin' wrecked it! I've been…crashing elsewhere."

He frowns, looking away for a second before he comes to a decision. "Why? I caused it. You can stay with me."

You snort in his face at that.

"Yeah right. As if I'm gonna shack up with the dude who has me in a choke-hold."

"Because you attacked me," he counters.

You roll your eyes, "and who chased who first, exactly?"

"You ran from me."

"So?"

"So I don't fuckin' like it." He grits out intensely, lifting you with the hold that curled around your throat.

Your eyes widened at the uncharacteristic curse he lets out, heels lifted off the ground just a tad. "Y-You're acting — weirder than…usual!" You grit out, kneeing at his abdomen, though in futile. He plops you back down unceremoniously.

"I'm fine. Just annoyed." Clark sighs, his arm curling around the back of your waist to turn you around, your forearms rested on the wall. His other hand tugs at your hips, forcing them to bend at the waist.

"Yeah, I don't buy it." You shoot back, letting him manhandle you into the position he wished. A pained, stuttered breath leaves your lips when his hand travels down to yank at your jacket's zipper. Your tits practically spilling out at the force of his touch.

You gasp slightly at the coldness that hits you, "jesus! some tact, maybe?" you grumble. His arm tugs you flush onto his chest, tilting your jaw to meet his kiss, that deepened on touch. You whine into his lips, his palms groping around the softness of your chest.

He's grinding onto you fully, rocking himself until he's fully hard. Licking into your mouth and pulling your hesitant moans while his fingers tweak around your nipples. Your thighs are squirming at the build up of heat.

For some reason, his added roughness was…turning you on.

Clark doesn't warn you when he's gripping the back of your waistband, tearing your your leggings apart with ease. "Hey!" You hiss, attempting to survey the damage, but he secures his hold on your jaw, drowning your complains in his mouth. You're grumbling until a hardening warmth pokes at your lower back.

It seems to stop your struggle, "I-I don't know what's gotten into you, but I don't —mmnh.." He kisses you again, and then mouths at your neck, then your shoulders, "I don't want it to…hurt…"

You see him hesitate. Almost as though he was at war with his own mind — hunger, battling with the very human part of him that was being clouded with something else. He hums, angling his cock to rub between your thighs.

The heat of him has you clenching your thighs tighter. Clark moves back and forth, your growing slick coating his cock with every gentle movement.

"…Okay."

Your head lowers, thighs damn near shaking as his hand hooks around your panties, pulling them up until it rubs at your clit. "M-Mhh!" You squeak, tip toeing at the sudden, and all too much stimulation. He holds your hips down firm, breathing laboured while he fucks the plush of your thighs.

The stimulation of him rubbing you has you nearly tipping over the edge, but you grab blindly for him behind you. "Don't wanna…cum. N-Not like this.."

Clark groans, you were so fucking sweet like this. Honest, pliant. His forehead rests on the back of your neck. Your hips tilt higher when his fingers slide down your belly, brushing past your mound. "Oh.."

A exhale of contentment has your head rested on your forearms. He rubs at your your clit with his palm, and you buck at him helplessly, dripping onto his cock. "Feels…good."

Clark nips at your shoulder, earning a mewl from you when he opts to nudge to of his fingers into your pussy. Your mind was a haze, a mix of the pleasure and pain.

"Pussy…too damn…tight."

He mutters, dazed, curling his fingers deeper into your velvety tight walls. Your thighs are quivering in jolts every time he pumps them in and out. The schliick of his fingers probing into you, palm rubbing your clit at every jerk. "So, so, perfect for me. Always."

Your eyes are unfocused, biting down on your lips at the endless praises he burns into your skin. "Superman —"

Clark grunts at that, tilting your jaw up roughly.

"Clark." He corrects. And you blink up at him. "Call me Clark."

You gasp into his mouth when he adds more fingers into your pussy, massaging and stressing your walls. He lowers his head, not quite kissing you yet. Your breath ghosts his before they finally whisper, "…Clark." You say, testing, between small gasps and jerks from him finger fucking you.

Clark looks pained, letting out a stuttered breath at hearing your needy voice call him. His lips clashes with yours clumsily, all tongue and messy. He pulls out of your pussy all at once, rubbing at your clit with an overwhelming intensity.

Your hips lift and you're trying to squirm away. But the stimulation, It had you mewling into his mouth. The veins of his cock wedged between your folds, rubbing impossibly hard, was making you full even when he wasn't even in you.

A white flash takes you, and you groan, muffled. Thighs shivering in the wake of your release. He lets go of you, lips latched onto your pulse, trailing to the sensitive parts of your ears.

You're leaning into his touch, his breathe heavy with his cheeks flush to yours. You feel him glide his palm down your hips, then, he drags his cock slow. Dragging his leaking tip away from your slit.

Trepidation fills you, and before you can hesitate, he's angling his cock at your puckered hole. "Clark —" you try, but he isn't listening. He drags the slick of your pussy, nudging just the tip in. You're letting out a guttural groan at the same time he does.

He smiles into the side of your cheeks, rocking slow into you to let you stretch around your girth, "g—gosh…" he groans, a palm slamming the wall next to where your forearms rested, the concrete caves in with his fingers digging into it. "Been…thinkin'..about this…ever since…" Clark sighs, nuzzling his nose into your jaw. The grunts you let out are near animalistic, pussy clenching around nothing, only focus on the stretch of your asshole around his girth.

"Could…could cum like this." He gasps, breathing heavily into your shoulder while he's poking his cock halfway into the tight walls.

"In…me..please." You whisper out, he kisses the back of your head, pulling out before he ended up busting his load right into you there.

Clark's hold on your hips tighten, and his cock slips from your puckered hole. His cock pokes at your pussy this time, and he thrusts into you with a snap of his hips. You grunt at every one of his movements, fists tightening where they rest on brick.

"Ugh—urk—you…are —" he's whimpering into the shell your ears, "so—", he rocks you back into him, forceful, "so…pretty."

Your eyes roll back at being filled so damn full and deep, clenching tight around his cock. It's aching, and filling you all at once. Your cheeks warm, gritting your teeth at his usual babbles, ohmygoshso—goshdarned'softn—

Clark grunts, spilling deep into you with a rough jerk. You're gasping and biting into his forearm. His cock bobs out of you, leaving you dripping, his cum leaking out from your folds.

With a grip around your hips, Clark turns you around, swooping you up into his arms. You feel the two of you lift into the air, a slow flutter of his cape draped over your thighs.

"Wh…where are you —"

"My place. I'm not done." He mumbles at the side of your head.

Clark's place looked like the aftermath of the Justice Gang attempting to 'save the day'.

Kitchen cabinet doors ripped clean off, shards of ceramic dishes all over the tiled flooring. The couch had been slashed through with trails of laser beam aftermath.

You'd stirred awake to the scent of pancakes. Limbs all achy and heavy before your eyes adjusted to the unfamiliar, and wrecked surroundings before they zero in on Clark at the stove.

His broad, bare back was proper clawed up, muscles flexed at his movements. He doesn't turn around when he speaks. "I went ahead and retrieved some of your clothes n’ belongings. They're in my bedroom."

Your heart jumps when he finally speaks, then, you frown, voice scratchy. "What? Why?"

Clark finally glances at you over his shoulder.

"I told you. You're gonna crash here…until you get your place fixed."

[slasherfucker101]

TERRITORIAL

Superman has a bad day.

TAGS: 18+, smut, villain!reader, enemies to lovers, clark is injured, reader helps clark to shower, reluctant caretaking, romantic/sexual tension, flash back that depicts p-in-v/creampies, clark accidentally 'laser beams' during an orgasm - smallville ref! (2.8k words) 𖤓 david corenswet masterlist | main masterlist | inbox 𖤓

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE It'd taken a full rehabilitation period for you to get back into your original state after getting pounded by Superman. Comical as it seemed, you were feeling him even after days. As proven by the bruised hand marks you had, particularly around your hips, and deep purple hickeys littered over your torso. He even had the audacity to try to cook breakfast for you the following morning. (Though you'd kicked him flat when he tried to have you 'join him'. The pancakes were great, you were pretty sure you didn't have any of those ingredients at home.)

By day four, you were feeling much better. All cooped up in your couch, knees tucked to your chest. You mindlessly cruised through the channels, all while your laptop screen flickers between surveillance footage of your next job.

The TV was more for ambient noise. It was a mindless routine for you, checking and scoping out blind spots for your jobs often meant staring at absolutely nothing, just looking for patterns and weaknesses you could very well exploit.

You were half-distracted with a pint of strawberry swirl ice cream, nothing but the dim halos of the digital screens keeping you company that evening.

The news breaks through your bubble of concentration with its' current subject.

BREAKING NEWS: Superman spotted earlier in downtown Metropolis, intervening with some sort of iron-like beast. Not winning, it seems.

Snapping for the remote, you increase the volume, watching him get flung and ricocheted through buildings. "Oooooooohhhhhh." You wince, a laughter stifled through your fists. "That's gotta hurt."

It'd turned into your half time show, and you'd ensued giving your own commentary. "Oh, oh, oh!" You slapped your hands together, throwing your head back in glee when he was practically flicked through memorial park. Unfortunately for you, good things never lasted for long.

"What? Come on!" You slump back, blowing raspberries in your cheeks. "The Justice Gang? Really?" Groaning, you'd shut the TV off in annoyance, of course he'd have people coming to bail him out. So much for the protector of earth.

Sometimes, you did wonder if he should've just done what his apparently parents sent him to earth for. It would work wonderfully considering he was pretty much big enough to do an IVF manually.

You had a full body shudder to that idea. The memories returning to you like war flashbacks. You drag yourself up, still a limp to your steps. Mostly from muscle aches on your thighs like you'd done an intense workout. Except they weren't. God knows you spent days dealing the phantom sensation of Superman's dick haunt your pussy in the weirdest moments.

Just as you open the fridge, the spoon from your pint clatters to your floor, clattering underneath. You sigh, flopping down to your knees to peek at where it tumbled to. "Just my luck…" Your hips arch uncomfortably, and the second you relax in said position, the deja-vu hits you.

"Oh, my, god!"

Your voice is hoarse from overexertion, you aren't even sure how many times you've cum by now. Clark had his entire body weight pressed onto you. Fucking you in deep thrusts while holding you in a firm headlock.

He's babbling incoherently, jumbles of you'resosoftandprettyandwarmoh!'s spilling into the shell of your ears. Incessant, is what it is. You're damn near relieved when he opts to grab your jaw up, tipping your head to him so he could kiss you. Drinking in all your mewls and drool. But it gives you away, the way you're clenching and kegeling on his cock when he's back to muttering even more praises into your mouth.

"Mhng—ah..mh. You're so, gosh darned perfect. C-Could do this, forever. S-She's squeezing me so tight.." He's licking a stripe at the corner of your lips, collecting the tears that drip.

"God, could you just say normal s-shit like pussy. Or whatever!" You ground out, cheeks falling limp on the security of his biceps.

"I can't do that." He mutters sheepishly, his face buried at the expanse of your neck. You'd never expected a man like Superman to be a whiny-little-mess, but it was starting to get to you, blooming godforsakened butterflies in your gut you desperately wanted to kill.

Clark lifts his head off you, feeling the all familiar tension in his gut, but it was another throb in his head that follows. He groans, snapping his hips into you deep, and slow. "O-Oh gosh, I'm gonna —"

The walls leave a long line of crackled indents at the string of laser beams he lets out between thrusts. Burning the surrounding paintings. You look up defeatedly. Sighing.

It barely surprises you this time. Considering the three other, still smoldering line of charred concrete following his eye line. You'd really rather he be a crier. Or premature ejaculator. But no, laser-beams-while-cumming was now apparently a thing.

You can hear Clark panting behind you, soothing the reddened marks on your hips apologetically. You don't offer him a response, merely burying your face in your sheets, voice muffled.,"stupid…fuckin'…alien ass.."

Your thigh still twitches from your overstimulated orgasms. Reddened pussy now pushing, gushing with his seed. "Y…ou're awfully quiet. You're not looking at my ass are you?" You throw your words over your shoulders.

The sight you offered him was pornographic & Clark was mesmerized.

He'd never considered himself to be the kind who'd want to breed a woman. Especially not after he'd found out his parents true intentions. But the way your pussy was pushing out his cum, in slow dribbles, it was stirring something innate in him.

"I swear supershit, if you're planning to poke that thing into my asshole I'll kill you." Your voice was croaked, but the point still got across. It doesn't hold much bite, you weren't completely against it, but not with Clark.

His thoughts instantly snap back to reality. And his head drops. Clark shakes his head with a groan. "Good gosh."

"Do you ever hear yourself speak? Actually?"

"Have you seen your dick?"

Obviously, you weren't bothered to take his criticisms to heart. "I take that as a no, then," he grunts when you swat at him with your ankles.

You were feeling better, considering how much easier it was for your body to snap back in shape. But even super-power-mutant bodies needed a goddamn break. A long, prolonged whine leaves you as you stretch — arms reached out. Your hip lifts, arching at the waist.

"Nnnngh—ohhh…that hit the spot."

Clark damn near doubles over. His cock twitching back to life. Nevermind that he was watching cum begin to trickle down your thighs in slow motion. It was the tremble of satisfaction of your left thigh that had him pawing at your hips once more.

"Woah —" Your head perks up, and you look back at him. A feeling akin to an electric shock takes you when he tugs you flush to the length of his cock. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

His snaps a palm out to rest on your headboard that splinters and crackles beneath his grip. Your head follows the sound. A feeling of utter dread fills you, and you shut your eyes in defeat.

"No, I am not."

You snap out of your daze with a stuttered breath.

Springing back up to sit on your thighs. Ridiculous was what it was? He was taking over your mind in the most annoying ways possible. Superman turned into a day-nightmare that plagued you even when you were awake.

You opted to grab the discarded utensils with your toes this time. Standing up and staring where your bed was, it was proper wrecked, walls painted with streaks of concrete melted and charred by his laser beams.

"This is has to be some divine punishment. Just has to be." While rubbing your temples, you reached out to water bottle on your kitchen island.

You choked mid-sip.

Water sputtering down your chin when sharp cracks and splintering glass ricochets entirely into your living room. You snap your head up to look at the dome skylight, shards raining into the room before your actual problem followed.

A blur of red and blue comes crashing into your floors. The impact of it rattling you to your core. A dust cloud blooms around the figure and you're wearily approaching it.

You cough once, and then twice, waving away the dust cloud to see a literal concrete crater beneath a broad-shouldered figure in its' center.

"Are you — " you stop, staring at the way he was breathing slow and heavy with his cape draped over him. Curls were fallen on his face in a frustratingly perfect manner, though his pretty face was bruised and bloodied, "— Out of your fucking mind?"

Clark was talking. Or at least that's what you were able to see with his mouth moving. "Couldn't make it to fortress…this…was closest…"

Your eyes are completely narrowed, knees bent in an awkward stance to try to haul him out of the apparent Superman-sized-crater in your living room. "Fortress. Manslaughter, Avunculicide, yes. You're saying words. I have no idea what the hell you're on about."

It's then you recalled from earlier that he was pretty much chewed and spit out by steel bewilder beast out there. You sigh, hooking your arms beneath his torso. Even with your strength, it was like carrying the dead weight of a building-adjacent alien. "UGH. C'mon, Big Blue. Can't —…"

Dead weight was dead weight, you supposed.

"Fantastic—ugh—I—mff—have—haaah—a..dog I..didn't..adopt. A six foot…" you grunted, dragging his body in shuffles, "possibly concussed..ugh—dog!" With a exhausted groan, you collapsed behind him halfway on your way to the foot of your bed.

"If you're dead. Tell me now. I'm just gonna just turn you into a campfire here."

Clark grunts at that, "…hey…that's real messed up…" he's mumbling in almost a boyish, whiny tone, before slumping his head onto your lap.

You're glaring at him with a disgruntled look. A tinge of pity at his state. You could leave him on the floor. Or. You wince at your thought of kindness.

"Hey." You snap twice before his face, "there's no way in hell i'm letting you on my sheets on your…" you paused. Raking over his rubble, grime coated super suit. "Outside clothes."

Clark makes a sound, a mix between a groan and a laugh. "..Didn't…think you..were a clean…freak.."

"Ohhh—hohhh supershit. I'm SO close to just throwing you out my front porch." With a mumble of encouragement to yourself, you drag maneuver him towards your bathroom.

"Move your freakin' feet!" You hiss when he nearly tips you over in your warm copper tiled shower.

"…They're movin'…" He manages, absolutely making no effort to move a muscle.

"You are THE worst patient." You huff out through gritted teeth. Propping him up against the glass doors.

"…Y'say that…as if…you had others.."

"Maybe I have. Maybe I haven't." You rolled your eyes, humoring him as you grabbing your shower head. "You're not special, you know."

Clark tilts his head to look at you, bruised & semi-conscious. It makes your heart twinge, but then, "liar." Lips quirking up just enough to be irritating.

You spray him point blank with water. "Oops. Itchy trigger finger."

He lets out a pained whimper at that, shielding himself. "You're mean." He whines out, and you kneel down. Fingers hooked around the waist band of his super-suit.

Clark catches your wrist and you raise your brows. "Are you seriously getting shy? When you've literally fucked the life out of m—"

He squeezes your cheeks, cutting you off. The effort to do that alone clearly costs him, and his head tips back against the glass. He finally relents, slumping as you peel the suit off of him. It lands in the corner in a wet, heavy slap.

It's different. Seeing him in daylight. You're hesitating, traitorous eyes raking down his sculpted body, heaving and exhausted from over exertion. Heat prickles at your neck when you drag your gaze up his slim waist, and his broad shoulders. Curls a little damper from your 'pre-mature' spray. You shake your head. Ignoring the fact you were taking a scenic route of assessing the extent of his injuries.

You grab his arm, lifting it while you press the purple blooming around his muscles. He lets out a yelp, his reflexes kicking in. "Okay. So it isn't broken. Quit moaning. You're fine."

It takes Clark a second to register that you weren't just hurting him for the heck of it. (He just couldn't prove that you were in fact enjoying seeing him in pain.) "…You try getting flung through a building." He mutters, defensively.

Rolling your eyes for what seems to be the tenth time for the night, you reach out for the soap. Letting it lather in your palms before you coax it through Clark's hair. The dust & grime, suds up and rinses out. He leans into your touch, his shoulders visibly loosening. It was getting familiar. The care. And it'd been a long time since he was cared for like this.

Clark looks up, slightly dazed. Meeting your gaze. Your breath stutters at that — at the vulnerability of it, mostly. So you yank his head to whip his face away. "Don't look at me." The damage was done, your cheeks were warming up at an alarming rate.

A stubborn smile quirks at his lips. He hears the quickening of your pulse. But chooses not to point it out.

You're halfway through rinsing his back that his limbs were slack. "Hey." You grip around his bicep, shaking it. A groan rips through you when you realise that he'd passed out.

You haul him up once more, cursing every god that ever existed while you dragged him to your bed, muscles straining with his weight.

And in an even more uncharacteristic move? You put him in fresh clothes, and tossed him under your sheets.

Clark slowly blinks awake. Muscles feeling lighter, but aching still. His eyes flick around to see that he was in a bed that wasn't his. And then it drifts, to your silhouette, eyeing the soft curve of your waist and neck, asleep next to him.

He swallows thickly, trying to move, but it all feels restricted. Clark glances down to see a tight shirt spanned around his chest. He's squinting, faintly recognizing a profanity on it but not being able to read it with his hazy vision. Riding up enough to act like a crop top on him. It's then you stir beside him, frowning as you look over your shoulder at movement behind you.

A flicker, barely, of relief graces your expression.

"Wow. Seventy two hours of you being passed out. Impressive. Get out of my bed." You mutter, scratchy from sleep.

Clark grumbles under his breath about still feeling weak. And then a bunch of nonsense about not having enough plant, like he was a freaking plant. You're dismissively waving it off before curling into yourself.

"Hey," he mutters, and for a moment you think he might thank you for all you'd done for him. "What…do the words on this shirt say?"

You sigh. "Dad Fucker."

"…Yeah. That checks out."

Clark shifts, scooting closer to you. Instinctively, your butt lifts to scooch away. Before you were entirely successful, a heavy hand lands on your hips. Dragging you back and flush to his chest. You gasp in annoyance, heart stuttering in a mix of irritation and a flutter of a butterfly long overdue a stampede to death in your belly.

But then you still.

"…Is there a reason why you're hard." You breathe out incredulously, your lower back being poked that could only mean one obvious thing.

Clark is quiet, "…morning wood." Mumbling with a tinge of embarrassment, but shamelessness with the way he's bucking up against you. "Your 'morning wood' is about three days late. Idiot."

He's nosing at your shoulder. His lips grazing just your neck.

"…I'm still sore." You admit quietly. He nods against you, thumbing at the waistband of your shorts.

"I won't put it in."

You bite the inside of your cheeks, the gravelly need in his voice making you falter in your resolve. Slowly, you tug your shorts down enough to toe it off. Clark's follows suit, adjusting his cock free. You bit down on your lips tight, holding back your moans as he slips his cock between your thighs. Snug on your folds.

"Go to sleep." He murmurs. Not exactly moving. "Just need the warmth."

Your eyes fluttered shut. Taking a composing breath.

Yeah. He's fucking nuts.

[slasherfucker101]

No Sex until Friday -C.K

cw: Explicit sexual content (18+), masturbation, mutual masturbation, overstimulation, marking (biting), creampie, praise/degradation mix, orgasm control.

It starts with a bet. A stupid one.

“Four days,” Clark says, leaning against your kitchen counter like the most smug farm boy in the galaxy. “No sex until Friday. You can do that, can’t you?”

“Oh, I can,” you lie. You cannot. It’s not that you’re addicted to him—it’s just… fine, okay, you are. When your boyfriend is literally Superman, restraint isn’t exactly your strong suit. But you were still going to try.

You cross your arms, aiming for nonchalance. “You’re forgetting something, Smallville. I’ve got self-control.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, sipping his coffee like this is nothing. “You couldn’t even make it through Man of Steel Monopoly without—"

“That doesn’t count,” you cut in, cheeks warming at the memory. “You were cheating.”

“I was winning.” He tilts his head toward you, voice dropping low, “and you’re already thinking about breaking the rules.”

“I am not.” You absolutely are.

“I’m just saying,” Clark continues, “I think you’ll fold by Wednesday night.” 

“Oh, please,” you scoff. “I’m making it to Friday. And when I win, you’re taking me to that seafood place in Metropolis. The fancy one.”

“Sure baby, if you even make it that long.” He said laughing, and it was warm and deep and did things to you that were going to make this whole “no sex until Friday” arrangement absolutely impossible.

“So,” you said, stepping closer until your chest brushed his arm. “If we’re doing this… what exactly counts as breaking the rules?”

Clark hesitated, his jaw tightening just slightly, which told you he hadn’t actually thought this through. “Uh… no sex. That’s all.”

Your smirk was wicked. “Define sex.”

“You know, sex.”

You tilted your head. “Right. But define ‘sex,’ Kent. Because I’m pretty sure you’ve got, like, Smallville Boy Scout definitions, and mine might be… broader.”

His eyes flickered down at you—quick, almost guilty—and then back up, “You know what I mean.”

“Mm. I don’t. Clarify.”

Clark sighed, that low, exasperated sound he made when you were purposefully annoying him and he secretly liked it. “No kissing where it counts. No touching where it counts. No…” His voice dipped lower, “…oral anything.”

You fought a grin. “Interesting choice of words.”

“Stop,” he warned, but his cheeks were pink now, which was almost as satisfying as getting him into bed.

“Stop what? I’m just trying to make sure we’re on the same page,” you said, running your finger in an absentminded little circle against his bicep. “So I could walk around the apartment in a towel after a shower, dripping water everywhere, and that wouldn’t be breaking the rules?”

“That’s… not—” He coughed. “That’s not technically sex, no.”

“Or I could sit on your lap during movie night. Totally innocent. No rules broken.”

Clark’s jaw flexed again. “…Right.”

“And if I… oh, I don’t know…” you leaned in so your lips were just brushing the shell of his ear, “…accidentally moaned your name in my sleep?”

He turned to look at you fully, and the shift in his eyes made your knees a little weak—like you’d just poked at the Superman side of him instead of Clark. “You keep testing me, sweetheart, and Friday’s going to be very, very long for you.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll regret winning.”

He hums, all calm and unbothered, but you can see it—how his hand lingers on the counter, knuckles whitening just slightly. “You remember what happened the last time we made a bet?”

You try to play innocent. “Nope. No idea what you’re talking about.”

Clark gives you a look, the one that says he’s running through every single memory in his superbrain and knows you’re lying. “You ended up handcuffed to my bed for three hours.”

You snort. “And you loved it.”

“Mm.” His lips twitch, fighting a smile. “Not the point.”

“You’re right,” you say, sidling past him toward the couch, deliberately brushing against his chest on the way. “The point is that you’re going to be paying for my oysters and champagne by Friday night.”

He follows you—because of course he does—and drops onto the couch beside you. “And the point is that you have zero poker face.”

“Oh, please.” You grab the remote, flicking on Netflix. “I’ve got plenty of poker face.”

Clark doesn’t even answer—just drapes his arm over the back of the couch and lets his thumb graze the bare skin of your shoulder.

You last fifteen minutes before you start to squirm. He notices, naturally, and smiles faintly like the predator he’s pretending not to be. “Wednesday night, huh?” he murmurs, eyes on the TV.

You grit your teeth, leaning back into his arm like you’ve got something to prove. “Friday, Kent. I’m making it to Friday.”

And that’s when he leans in, lips brushing the curve of your ear. “Guess I’ll just have to make sure you’re good and restless until then.” You know, in that moment, you’re so fucked.

The next morning, steam still clinging to your skin from the shower, you tug on a thin silk night slip, one thaf is definitely not bet-friendly—and pad into the kitchen.

Clark’s already there, hair damp from his own shower, in a fitted blue t-shirt that makes your pulse do funny things. He’s sitting at the table, reading the Daily Planet on his tablet, coffee in hand, and working his way through a plate of eggs 

You pause in the doorway, catching his eye for just a second, then—without breaking contact—you reach for the hem of your night slip and tug it up. Over your hips. Past your chest. And off.

Clark freezes mid-bite. Fork halfway to his mouth.

“Morning,” you say breezily, tossing the slip onto a chair and padding over to the laundry nook, bare ass bouncing. You bend tossing in towels with your ass high, knowing full well he can see everything. The air’s cool, nipples tight and aching, and you swear you hear him exhale a curse under his breath.

Laundry done, you saunter into the kitchen, open the cabinet, and pour yourself a cup of coffee like you’re not putting on a one-woman burlesque show before breakfast.

You take the mug to the couch and plop down next to him, crossing your legs. “Whatcha reading?”

Clark doesn’t look. “News brief. Morning update for the Planet.”

“Mhm.” You sip. “How’s that going?”

He swallows, jaw tight. “Fine.”

The silence stretches. You shift, scooting an inch closer. Then another. Until your thigh brushes his. His voice is slightly hoarse now. “Sweetheart—”

“Can I have a hug?” you interrupt.

“Not a good idea.”

“Didn’t ask if it was a good idea.” You set your coffee down and slide into his lap before he can react, straddling him.

Clark’s hands fly to your hips—not to pull you closer, but to keep you in place—as if that’s somehow going to help. You loop your arms around his neck, leaning in until your breasts press against his shirt. “It’s just a hug, Smallville. Not breaking any rules.”

Clark’s eyes are locked anywhere but on you, like he’s memorizing the wood grain of the coffee table. His thumbs flex against your hips before he catches himself and goes still. “You’re—” His voice comes out rough, like gravel. He clears his throat. “You’re naked.”

You tilt your head innocently. “Am I?”

He gives you that look—the one that I’m two seconds from throwing you over my shoulder. “You know you are.”

“Right. Which… is fine.” You shift just enough that the movement drags your nipples across his chest. “Because being naked isn’t against the rules.”

The rest of Tuesday is… fun. For you. For Clark, it’s some kind of Herculean test of willpower.

By Wednesday morning, you’ve traded the silk night slip for nothing but one of his button-ups—and not much else. 

By Thursday, you can tell he’s hanging by a thread. Which is exactly why you push.

That night, you’re in bed together. You’ve been good—technically. No touching “where it counts.” No breaking the rules. But as he scrolls through something on his phone beside you, broad shoulders relaxed against the headboard, you get an idea.

You start slow—just sliding a hand over your own stomach under the blanket. Then your fingers drift lower. You bite back a sound, but the mattress dips as his head turns. “Sweetheart?”

“Hmm?” You keep your eyes closed, breath soft and uneven now.

Clark freezes. “What are you—” His voice drops. “Oh, no.”

“Not breaking the rules,” you murmur, lips curving. “I’m just… helping myself sleep.” Within seconds, your fingertips find slick heat, and your hips give a tiny involuntary roll. The sound that slips past your lips is embarrassingly needy. You hum, teeth catching your bottom lip. You keep going, rubbing slow circles, your breath catching in quiet, uneven little gasps. 

His phone’s still in his hand, but his jaw is tight now. “You trying to get me to lose?”

“Mm,” you breathe, eyes closed. “Not… technically…”

The blanket shifts over you as your hips move again. Your whimper is quiet but not quiet enough. Clark groans under his breath, rolling to face the opposite direction like distance will save him. “You’re impossible.”

You smile to yourself, dragging your fingers lower, dipping into your own heat. The slick sound is filthy in the quiet room, and the next moan that slips out is louder. He inhales sharply through his teeth, but doesn’t move.

“Fine,” you pant, your own voice starting to shake with how badly you’re aching. “Guess I’ll just keep doing it myself… thinking about your cock instead of my fingers… about how big you’d feel inside me right now…” That does it. His free hand shifts under the blanket toward his own waistband, and a second later you catch the faintest movement of his fist working over himself. Your hips stutter. “Clark—”

“Don’t start,” he grits out, jaw tight. “You started this game.”

You let out another moan, high and breathless, and that’s it—his phone clatters to the nightstand. In one motion, he’s on his side facing you, catching your wrist under the blanket and pulling your fingers from yourself.

“Move ‘em,” he orders, you barely have time to inhale before he’s replacing them with the hot, thick press of his cock, sliding in slowly. You moan, nails digging into his shoulders as he stretches you full.

Clark braces one palm beside your head, the other gripping your thigh so tight you swear you’ll feel it later. “Four days,” he murmurs against your ear, voice low and dangerous. “I made it four days with you teasing me like that. You owe me.”

Your nails rake down his back, earning a low grunt. “Fucking… knew you wouldn’t last,” you manage between moans.

Clark’s laugh is dark and breathless against your skin. “I lasted,” he pants, slamming into you harder. “You didn’t.”

You gasp when his hips snap forward, the headboard knocking against the wall. “I—” you start, but it melts into a moan.

“Could’ve kept my hands to myself,” he goes on, driving the words between thrusts, “but then you had to sit there and—god—touch yourself right next to me.” His pace picks up, his fist bunching the sheets near your head like he’s holding back from just railing you into the mattress.

His forehead presses to yours, sweat slick at his hairline, and his voice drops to a dark murmur that makes you clench around him. “God—fuck—” you whimper, the words breaking into a moan when his cock drags against that perfect spot inside you. You’re so wet now that every snap of his hips is filthy and loud under the blankets, slick and obscene.

“You hear that?” Clark groans, fucking you harder. “That’s how fucking desperate you are. Four days, and you’re dripping all over me like a slut who can’t keep her hands to herself.”

He bites down on your shoulder, groaning like he’s just as far gone, hips jerking into you with mindless, hungry force. “Gonna cum in you,” he grits out. “Gonna fill this perfect little pussy so deep you’ll still feel me tomorrow.” You choke out a cry, your back arching as your orgasm hits—sharp and devastating—your cunt pulsing around him, slick spilling down between your thighs. He fucks you through it, chasing his own high, his thrusts growing erratic.

When he finally eases back just enough to look at you, you feel the hot spill of him leaking out between your thighs. His fingers slip down, pressing against your swollen cunt pushing his cum back in making you jolt.

“Not done,” he murmurs, watching your face as he keeps moving inside you, slow and filthy. “I’m gonna fuck it deeper so you remember who you belong to.” And with that, Clark Kent—boy scout farm boy, world’s greatest hero—starts all over again, ruining you until you can’t even remember what day it is, much less who won the bet.

a/n: ive has the MOST stressful week but alas time shall go on and writing smut exists so staying alive can’t be that bad also super thankful for all of u whores

[slasherfucker101]

Thinkn’ bout Ghost who everyone thought would have a sweet, shy, and overly kind affectionate partner .

Oh they were shocked when you walked in with a takeout bag and drink in hand , exact opposite of what they thought, you look like you want to rip out everyone’s throat out, the meanest Rbf they’ve ever seen (their still not completely sure your not pissed ) you walk to Ghost dropping the bag in his lap and drink it almost spilling.

Ghost doesn’t say a word “don’t forget you lunch next time” your voice sounds more like a threat than a reminder but Ghost nods “didn’t ‘ave to” but still taking the food thanking her with a nod

“I know” you sound like a bitch “I won’t next time” leaving the rest of the team shocked thinking you’re disrespecting Ghost and he’s just taking it??

But after you leave Ghost sighs “ain’t they perfect” more of a statement then a question.

After a few times of seeing you around the team starts to put two and two together, that you just just have a major resting bitch face and natural attitude.

“y’know what? They are perfect for him” Soap muttered to Gaz while the two watched you an Ghost stare at each other like they hate each other “copy n pasted mate” Gaz replied

[slasherfucker101]

Scream Queen (Josh Washington x Fem!Reader)

summary: when she wins scream queen, a fight breaks out. her best friends are there to have her back.

contains: swearing, violence (slapping), use of Y/n, emily and jess being cunts as per usual, takes place pre-game, gets a lil heated but no smut (the twins cockblock)

notes: with the remake out, i have revisited the part of my soul that goes feral for josh washington.

It was the night of the annual Halloween dance, and the school gym was alive with eerie decorations, fog machines, and music thumping in time with flashing strobe lights. Students flaunted their costumes, from classic monsters to the latest pop culture icons, each vying for attention. Among them were three girls—Jess, Emily, and Y/n—all competing for the coveted title of "Scream Queen" in their senior year, their last chance to win.

Tensions had been high within their friend group since the voting started, Jess and Emily’s treatment of their friend growing mean as the weeks passed.

Jess, with her snarky attitude and confidence, strutted through the crowd like she already owned the title. Her blonde hair was styled perfectly to complement her vampire costume, complete with a dramatic cape.

Emily, dressed as a glamorous witch, was equally self-assured, her black hair curled and ending at her jaw. She was never one to hide her ambitions and made sure everyone knew she was the best candidate.

Y/n, in contrast, floated through the room with a calm grace, dressed as an angel with delicate wings and a halo perched atop her head. She had always been humble, preferring to let her actions speak for her, and tonight was no different.

Accompanying her was her best friend, Josh. Him, with his playful nature, had gone all out as a devil. His black hair was tousled beneath red devil horns, and he wore a mischievous grin that fit the costume perfectly. As they mingled with friends and laughed together, their opposite costumes drew smiles from their classmates. Y/n's ethereal, innocent look paired with Josh's devilish grin was an obvious symbol of their dynamic.

The gym was buzzing with excitement, the flashing lights and eerie decorations casting shadows across the dance floor. Spooky tunes mixed with the occasional pop hit, creating an electric atmosphere that kept the crowd moving. Y/n and Josh made their way through the throng of costumed classmates, their angel-and-devil theme earning them a few approving nods and laughs. Her white dress and golden halo shimmered under the strobe lights, while his devil horns and mischievous grin perfectly complemented his black-and-red ensemble.

Their friends—Chris, Ash, Matt, and Mike—were already in the middle of the dance floor, and as soon as Josh spotted them, he pulled Y/n over, weaving through the crowd.

"Finally! The lovebirds decide to join us!" Chris shouted, his voice barely audible over the music. He was dressed as a zombie, his makeup impressively gruesome.

Ash, rocking her Lara Croft costume with confidence, grinned as she nudged the angelic girl. "You two look amazing! Total opposites, but it definitely fits."

She laughed, feeling her nerves ease as she melted into the group's energy. "Thanks, Ash! And you look like you could take down any monster in here."

The gym was buzzing with energy as the group danced beneath the dim lighting. The DJ's music pumped through the speakers, and the air was filled with laughter, chatter, and the occasional excited scream from someone enjoying the spooky atmosphere.

Mike, dressed as a pirate, was busting out his best moves, his exaggerated gestures earning laughs from the group. Even Matt, who usually kept things low-key, joined in, attempting a moonwalk in his werewolf costume and nearly tripping over his own feet. Josh clapped him on the back, grinning. "Nice try, man. Maybe you’ll get it by prom!"

The energy between them was infectious, and they fed off one another's laughter and enthusiasm. Chris grabbed Ash's hand, pulling her into a silly dance, while the twins were dancing like the world would end at midnight.

As night continued, they fell into easy conversation between songs. They made jokes about each other's costumes, stole candy from the snack table, and posed for goofy photos. Josh playfully whacked Chris with his plastic pitchfork, and Y/n found herself laughing so hard at his reaction that she had to wipe tears from her eyes.

She spun in circles, her laughter light as she twirled away from Josh, who grinned, his devil horns glinting in the strobe lights.

"What's the matter, angel? Afraid you'll get burnt if you get too close?" He teased, eyes sparkling.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, please. I have absolutely no reason to be scared of a demon."

"Yeah? Then prove it," he challenged, holding out his hand. She took it with a smirk, letting him pull her close as they fell into step, their bodies swaying together in time with the music. Josh's hands rested on her waist, his touch warm even through the cool fabric of her dress, and Y/n felt her pulse quicken.

"You know, I'm surprised you didn't show up in some stupid fucking costume like a clown or a giant banana," she said, raising an eyebrow as they danced in an upbeat rhythm.

Josh leaned in closer, their foreheads almost touching. "I wanted to match you. Thought it'd be fun." He smirked, his eyes locking with hers. "Plus, I look hot, don't I?"

She bit back a smile, pretending to get lost in contemplation. “I guess you do. You almost look sexy." She let her hand linger on his chest, feeling the fabric of his shirt as he grinned down at her.

"Whoa, easy there, angel," he said, his voice low. "Can't have you falling for the devil."

Y/n laughed, giving him a playful shove.

The two continued dancing, the playful banter flowing easily as they moved. At one point, Josh spun her around dramatically, pulling her back into him. He leaned close, his lips near her ear as he whispered, "Admit it, you're having fun with me."

She turned her head, meeting his eyes with a grin. "Okay, maybe a little. But don't let it go to your head."

He laughed, his arms tightening around her briefly before letting her go. They rejoined their friends, who were caught up in the excitement of the night. Chris and Ash were arguing over the best dance move, while Matt was trying to get Mike to smile for a photo, even though Mike was pretending to be annoyed. The twins, Hannah and Beth, were busy debating the best horror movies.

"Come on, Washington, let's show them how it's done," Y/n smiled, pulling Josh back onto the dance floor. He followed willingly, his grin widening as she led the way.

His eyes glinted mischievously. "You know, I think we make a pretty good team."

She laughed, spinning into his arms. "Oh, is that so?"

"Absolutely." Josh dipped her suddenly, making her gasp as he caught her securely. "I mean, who wouldn't vote for an angel and a devil duo?"

She laughed, her cheeks flushed as she met his gaze upside down. He looked so fucking good tonight. “You really think we've got this?"

He pulled her back up, their faces inches apart. "I'd bet on it." His voice lowered, a playful smirk on his lips. “Also, I forgot to mention, you look fucking gorgeous.”

Her breath hitched, and just as she was about to respond—the principal's voice boomed over the speakers, signaling that it was time for the big announcement. The energy in the gym spiked as the crowd gathered around the stage.

"And the winners of Scream King and Queen are... Josh Washington and Y/n L/n!"

Cheers erupted from their friends—well, most of them—while the rest of the crowd joined in, clapping and shouting. Y/n's eyes widened in surprise as Josh pulled her into an excited hug, lifting her off the ground and spinning her. Their friends laughed and congratulated them, but not everyone was thrilled. Jess and Emily stood in the corner, their faces a mix of shock and fury.

...

Later, when the dance was winding down, Jess and Emily cornered her in the hallway on her way back from the bathroom. It was the only time she'd ever seen the girls team up. The music was still loud enough that their voices blended into the background, but the anger in their eyes was unmistakable.

"Why'd you win?" Jess spat, crossing her arms. "It makes no sense! You're not even that pretty!"

"Yeah," Emily added, her tone dripping with contempt. "You definitely didn't deserve it."

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "I guess everyone else disagrees. Maybe if you—"

Before she could finish, Emily's hand shot out, and a sharp slap echoed through the hallway. She stumbled back, her cheek stinging. Just as things were about to escalate, Josh appeared with Hannah and Beth. The twins, identical other than their hair—Hannah's long and straight, Beth's cut short with bangs—stepped between Y/n and the girls.

"Hey, back off," Josh said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "She's the one that got, and actually deserved, the votes."

Chris, Ash, Matt, and even Mike, quickly moved in to help separate the three, preventing the argument from turning into a full-blown fight. With a final glare, Jess and Emily stormed off, leaving her with their friends.

Josh gently took her hand. "Come on, let's get out of here."

...

He drove them back to the Washingtons' house, where Y/n had planned to sleepover for the weekend. They’d planned a movie night.

As the credits rolled on yet another cheesy horror movie, Josh turned to the girls, who were curled up on the couch with bowls of popcorn in their laps.

"Can you believe that guy? He was supposed to be the 'expert' on hauntings and he walks into the house screaming like a little kid," he laughed, shaking his head.

Hannah giggled, her brown curls bouncing as she leaned forward. "I mean, who the hell brings a rubber chicken to a ghost hunt? That was so fucking stupid!"

Beth, rolling her eyes, chimed in, "And don't forget the part where they split up. Classic horror movie mistake! Why would you ever go into a dark room alone?"

Josh mockingly deepened his voice, "I'll just check this creepy sound... you guys stay here. It's totally safe!" He threw his arms up dramatically, making them burst into laughter.

"Exactly!" Hannah added, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "And that 'survivor' girl? She was barely keeping it together. I think I could handle the killer better than she could."

Beth chuckled. "Yeah, I would’ve just kicked him in the dick and ran for it!"

…

As the last movie ended and the credits rolled, Hannah stretched her arms above her head, yawning dramatically. "Well, I think it's time for us to hit the hay, don't you, Beth?"

Beth nodded, smirking slightly. "Yeah, I’m beat." She stood up and tossed her popcorn bowl in the kitchen, glancing back at Y/n and Josh, who were still on the couch, laughing about the movie.

"G’night," Beth said with a casual wave of her hand. "You two have fun!" She grabbed Hannah's arm and pulled her toward the hallway.

After the twins’ odd exit, the duo grabbed blankets and pillows and made their way to the trampoline in the backyard. They lay side by side, staring up at the night sky as the cool autumn breeze rustled the trees. The stars twinkled brightly, offering a brief escape from the drama of the evening.

As they laughed and joked like they always did, Josh's expression grew serious. "I still can't believe them. So you won Scream Queen—why’re they so pissed?"

Y/n sighed, her voice quiet. "You know them, if it’s not their way then it’s not the right way."

Josh's hand found hers, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Yeah, well, they need to wake the fuck up."

A silence settled between them, filled only by the distant sounds of crickets and the rustle of leaves. Y/n turned her head to meet Josh's eyes, and she felt her heart race at the intensity she saw there.

"Hey, so… I've liked you for a while," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “I was wondering if, maybe, you’d be down to give us a shot?”

Her breath caught in her throat. "Like, us as in us dating?"

Josh laughed quietly, never removing his hand from hers. “Yeah, us as in dating. I know we joke around and flirt all the time… but I was wondering if it could stop being a joke?”

Y/n’s heart raced as she looked into his eyes, her breath catching as a small smile grew onto her lips. "Josh, it’s never been a joke to me—“

Before she could finish, his hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing against the spot where Emily had slapped her. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine, and without another word, he leaned in. Their lips met, soft at first, testing the waters, but the kiss quickly deepened as a rush of pent-up emotions flowed between them.

Josh's hand slid into her hair, pulling her even closer as their lips moved in sync, the heat building between them.

Y/n responded with equal fervor, her fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him down against her. The sensation of his body pressed against hers sent sparks through her, and she opened her mouth, letting the kiss grow more intense. His hands roamed, exploring the curves of her waist and the small of her back, and she arched into him, feeling his breath hitch in response.

The kiss grew hungrier, the cold air around them forgotten as they got lost in the moment. Her hands moved to the back of his neck, her fingers slipping through his hair, tugging just enough to earn a soft groan from him. Josh's lips left hers, trailing down the side of her neck, his breath hot against her skin as he left a path of small marks that made her pulse quicken. Her hands slid down his back, pulling him even closer, until there was hardly any space left between them.

They were both breathless, their movements urgent and desperate as they clung to each other. His hand slipped under the hem of her shirt, his fingers tracing the skin of her lower back, and she gasped, the sensation sending shivers of anticipation through her. She tugged him back up, capturing his lips again in a heated kiss, her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

Just as they were lost in the moment, fully immersed in the heat of their embrace, Beth's voice cut through the air, loud and teasing from the bedroom window.

"About damn time!"

They pulled apart, breathless and flushed, staring at each other in shock for a moment before bursting into laughter. Josh rolled onto his back, running a hand through his hair as he grinned up at the window, throwing a playful middle finger toward his sisters. “Fuck off!"

The girls just laughed, Beth giving them a playful wink before disappearing back inside. Still giggling, Y/n settled back into his arms, snuggling close under the blanket. They shared a few more soft kisses, this time slower, savoring the moment. Eventually, as the night quieted and their laughter faded, they drifted off to sleep under the stars, wrapped up in each other's warmth.

[slasherfucker101]

Headcanons for Ayano

ayano aishi: headcannons!!

— yandere behaviors, not proofread. i assumed this was general hcs, btw.

note: i’m so sorry this took so long!! i’ve been having some really bad writers block recently, but i’m back for now :]

she definitely dresses in grunge! probably just more on the casual side

has several piercings, the one i love to hc her most with is snakebites!!

she may say she hates pink, but she definitely loves it.

paints her nails whenever they get long enough, and occasionally details them! like drawing a little cat or basic stripes and waves

she likes horror, whether it be books or movies

she definitely prefers reading over movies though

i feel like she’s great friends with musume & the other girls! she probably likes their company and likes going out with them.

i (personally) like to hc her as bisexual !!

she definitely asks herself why she likes taro sometimes. she can never figure out an answer though, not that she minds.

i feel like she likes rock, screamo, and metal— probably vocaloid too; if it sounds like the others do.

she seems like the type to wear sweaters in the middle of summer and somehow, she never sweats.

she swears like a sailor. we all know it.

she gets bored easily, it’s also hard for her to focus— unless it’s taro she’s thinking about.

she’s found herself stalking taro, unintentionally. and actually she panics when she finally realizes just how long she’s been following him.

she’s actually great friends with the rivals, oka, especially. she loves how soft and quiet she is, and she likes listening to her love of the occult.

she likes keeping her room dark and cold, mostly as a comfort thing, but also because it’s cozy.

she definitely has blackout curtains in her room, and sometimes she wakes up at 11:46 in the morning thinking it’s midnight. (blackout curtains are dangerous guys)

sleeps with a 15-pound weighted blanket.

definitely has really fluffy pillows and plenty of stuffed animals on her bed too.

— that’s all!!

lbukisgf Ⓒ 2023

[slasherfucker101]

hello, i really enjoyed your work so far & i saw that your reqs are open! i was wondering if you could do ayato aishi x gn reader who is anxious and dependent? reader is almost like a sheep, following the crowd and attaching themself to their friends. thank you and i hope you have a lovely day/night 🤍

ayato aishi x anxious + dependent reader

you guys don't know how happy i get when i see requests 😭 good crumbs anon! as much as i like an independent reader who knows how to stand up for themselves, there's a special spark in a reader who is very reliant on others and in any way fragile. you guys have a lovely day too!

gn reader, not proofread, alludes to kidnapping, pretty tame for the most part.

you never shared a glanced at each other, not even once, but he was hooked on you when you accidentally spilled your drink on one of the delinquents.

"oh no... i'm sorry i'm sorry! i- ...please forgive me."

it was distressing. you didn't mean to be such a klutz, especially in front of a crowd of people, and now you got into such a mess with one of the delinquents.

the way he looks at you with annoyance, not even bothering to say a word. you know he's mad, rightfully so.

"i'm sorry... i'll buy you another uniform if you want..."

"don't bother. how do i know you won't dirty the uniform when you can't even hold your drink correctly and look where ya going? now move outta the way."

your friends help you stand up as the delinquents pass you by. by the time you look up, you no longer see the crowd of eyes that was practically shooting daggers at you. they continue their mindless conversations before your accident. although embarrassing yourself made a stain in your reputation, it's refreshing that an ocean of eyes is no longer staring right through you. you'll worry about the gossips regarding your clumsiness later.

much to your dismay, gray eyes were observing you the entire time. there was no spark in their eyes since the moment of their birth, they had no soul, they had no purpose, but to be a functioning citizen, when they are just flesh and meat without a sense of mind.

but you helped them. you helped them gain the spark in their eyes, you helped them become their own person, and you helped them find their purpose in life. you've done it all without ever acknowledging them.

ayato snaps out of it when your friends start to escort you away from the scene, rubbing your back and shoulders.

the apologies emitted from your mouth, your hands you were playing with in pure anxiety, your shivering body. he wants it all, he wants all that you can ever give him.

your sheepish personality does not benefit you, but it gives all the pros to ayato. he loved it when your breathing went stiff when he went up to you to say hi.

you've always needed company. wherever there is a crowd, you'll squeeze yourself in, just as long as they don't look at you like you have murdered a family of seven.

but ayato was an unusual company.

at first, it seems like he was just walking past the hall until his feet stops by the bench you're sitting on.

ayato aishi, he is commonly praised for his mother's victory in court when she was accused of murder and the disappearance of five girls. even so, he is still an average student, he hasn't done anything extravagant himself, unless we're talking about his effort to learn everything about you.

"hi."

he's... straight to the point. you try to at least look at him, but you are quick to look away when you see that his face is barely an inch away from you.

"...oh! uh... hi!" you're looking at everything but his face, he just won't stop staring.

he loves it when you're anxious, trembling, jittery and all. but he wishes that you could look at him again more thoroughly, like he is an art piece at a museum.

the next thing you know, he is walking away as he looks at you with half-lidded eyes and a smirk. oddly enough, you maintain eye contact with him until he eventually disappears down the hall.

he never talked to you again after the interaction but something always feels like it's watching you.

one thing that he does not like about you is that you surround yourself with familiar faces and rely on your closest companions. it makes it difficult for him to stalk you without alarming anyone. and with the other, it's rather a jealousy thing of his. one day, when he gets you all to himself, you will depend your very existence to him. rest assured, he'll take care of you, cook you delicious food, and shower you with praise. none of your friends are able to give you what he can, he is special, as he likes to think.

(bonus!) "ayato's darling shrine"

portrait — a photo of my darling watching the sunset. they look a thousand times more beautiful.

broken earphones — my darling threw this away on their way home. i wish we can listen to music together with these headphones.

gel pen — darling's favorite pen. they were upset when they lost it, i almost wanted to give it back to them.

crumpled paper — scrapped essay for their research. they forgot to throw it in the trash out of stress. their handwriting is cute, should i write them letters one day?

...

i loved writing this °՞(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞°

[slasherfucker101]

No Pressure

Josh Washington x GN!Reader

Summary: At his own party, Josh’s confident act fades when he admits he’s a virgin—only for the reader to lead him through a passionate, awkwardly sweet first time.

Warnings: Smut (mdni 18+), virgin!Josh, first time, teasing, experienced!reader, praise kink, alcohol mention, vulnerability

The Washington lodge was alive tonight—pulsing music, red solo cups, and the hum of laughter ricocheting off log walls. Josh stood in the center of it all, his signature smirk in place like armor, greeting guests and making offhanded jokes that bordered on flirtatious.

You caught him watching you more than once. You weren’t new to his parties, but tonight was different. Maybe it was the way his gaze lingered longer. Maybe it was the way he gravitated toward you, that practiced charm of his cracking just a little when you smiled back. “So,” he drawled, leaning casually against the kitchen island like a guy in a teen drama. “You here to flirt with me or steal my liquor?”

You arched a brow. “Can’t it be both?”

He choked on his sip of beer and laughed, “Touché.”

The flirting built like pressure behind a dam—smirks, close whispers, his hand resting just a little too low on your back when he guided you through the crowd. And eventually, predictably, he murmured in your ear, “Wanna ditch this for somewhere quieter?”

You said yes.

His bedroom was dimly lit, warm from the fire crackling low in the fireplace. He kicked the door shut behind you, suddenly unsure of what to do with his hands. Josh tried to play it cool—shrugging off his jacket and tossing it carelessly aside, fingers combing through his hair in that way you were sure he practiced in the mirror. “So, uh… you comfortable? I can put something on. Music. Or, like, Netflix.”

You stepped into his space, toeing off your shoes. “You nervous, Washington?”

His laugh was breathy, nervous. “Pfft. What? No. No way. Just—uh, checking in.”

You took a step closer. “You seem a little stiff.”

“Well, you’re kinda hot and standing real close, so—yeah. I’m doing my best here.”

The kiss came suddenly, both of you leaning in at once. It was heated, a little clumsy, all teeth and lips at first until it settled into something slower. His hands found your waist, your hips, gripping you like he was afraid to pull you too close too fast. When your fingers started tugging at the hem of his shirt, Josh tensed. You pulled back slightly, blinking. “Hey. You okay?”

He licked his lips, looking at you with wide eyes, no smirk in sight. “Yeah. Yeah, I just… okay, full honesty moment?” His hands dropped to his sides. “I’ve never actually done this before. Like. Not all the way.”

You paused, your expression softening. “You mean you’re a virgin?”

Josh winced like you’d said a dirty word. “Kinda ruins the whole ‘smooth party guy’ image, huh?”

You smiled—warm, reassuring—and cupped his face gently. “Josh, that doesn’t ruin anything. You don’t have to pretend with me.”

His eyes flicked to yours, searching, hopeful. “You’re not, like, turned off or weirded out?”

“Not even a little. You’re hot, you’re sweet, and you’re clearly trying your best.” You let your voice drop into something teasing. “I think that’s kind of adorable, actually.”

He groaned softly. “God, don’t say adorable when I’m trying to get laid.”

You leaned in, kissing him again. Slower this time. Deeper. “Let me help you, Josh.”

Clothes were shed with fumbling hands, his nerves showing every time your fingertips brushed his bare skin. He watched you like you were magic, eyes wide and dark with wonder as you guided him to the bed. You settled astride his lap, kissing down his neck, letting your hands wander with purpose. “Tell me if anything feels too fast, okay?”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay. Yeah. I’m good. Just… wow.” Your fingers danced along his chest, your hips grinding slow against the tent in his boxers. His breath hitched, hands gripping your thighs like you were keeping him grounded.

“You feel good, baby,” you whispered into his ear, delighting in the way he shivered under you.

Josh let out a low, unsteady moan. “Holy shit. This is, like, already the best night of my life.”

You laughed against his skin, your fingers sliding beneath his waistband. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m serious,” he groaned. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this. About you.”

You paused, genuinely surprised. “Me?”

He flushed, avoiding your eyes. “I may have had a thing for you since, like, the first time you came to one of my parties.”

You bit your lip, feeling your heart warm even through the haze of arousal. “Then let’s make it count.”

You guided him slowly, easing him inside you with gentle words and reassuring touches. Josh’s head fell back, a strangled sound escaping his throat, “Oh my God—” You moved carefully, watching every twitch of his brow, every hitch of his breath. He was clearly overwhelmed, trying desperately to hold back, his hands shaking as they gripped your hips. “I-I’m not gonna last,” he gasped, biting down hard on his lip.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, stroking his cheek. “Just feel it. Let go.” And he did—his body going taut beneath you, hips jerking up helplessly as he came with a guttural, needy sound. His arms wrapped tight around you, burying his face in your shoulder as he trembled. You held him through it, pressing soft kisses to his hair. “You did good, Josh.”

He laughed breathlessly. “Jesus. I lasted, like… negative three seconds.”

You grinned. “That just means we’ve got time to practice.”

Josh looked up at you with flushed cheeks and something shy in his smile. “You’d… want to do this again?”

You leaned in close, brushing your nose against his. “I’d be honored to be your sex tutor, Washington.”

He snorted. “That’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” You laughed, curling up against his chest.

[slasherfucker101]

All Night Long | Good Ending |

18+ Account | Minors DNI | Do NOT Follow, Like, or Comment | Pls have your age in your bio, if you do not I will automatically block you because I’ll assume you are a minor.

All Night Long | Neutral Ending | /// All Night Long | Bad Ending |

Pairing: Josh Washington x f! Reader

Warning: Flirting | Smut | Little bit of Voyeurism | P in V | Blowjob | Three way |

Word Count: 2551

Sometimes you still think about that night. You felt like Beth and Hannah were like sisters to you. You visited their house often for breakfast and dinner, so it really hurt what happened. You couldn’t even imagine how Josh felt. You still feel somewhat responsible, maybe if you hadn't been taking care of Josh that night things would have been different. 

They both knew you liked their brother. If anything they were the only ones who tried to get you together. They were the ones who set drunk Josh down on the same couch as you. You were so focused on playing with his hair and drawing lines on his face with your fingers. You even confused your feelings to him. You thought he heard you when he mumbled your name in his sleep. 

But then they went missing and Josh cut off you and everyone else. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt but what else could you do. He was mourning. 

You were a little surprised though at the invite you got. But still happy, you really hoped that he was doing somewhat better. 

When you got there it was like he was the same Josh, he didn’t look like he was mourning. He acted the same way. He still made his same flirtatious comments. He was still that boy next door kind of guy. 

He had noticed that you got cold, so he walked over with a blanket. You were about to take it when he opened it and wrapped you with the blanket. You looked up at him, a bit corny but looking into his eyes just made you feel like kissing him. 

And you feel like he noticed too, why else would he clear his throat and walk away. You felt a little disappointed. But you thought it was a good time to talk to him. You sat down next to him while he was crouching trying to light the fire. You weren’t alone so you just spoke softly so only he could hear.

“I’m really sorry for what happened Josh. I really loved Hannah and Beth. I still miss going over to your house on Sundays and eating breakfast with you guys. I really regret that day too, I should have been with Hannah that day. But I was so focused on taking care of you that I just didn’t- I didn’t think about what could happen.”

You looked up and saw him looking at you. “Thank you. I appreciate that Y/n.” 

You were about to say something when Chris interrupted, “What am I missing?” 

You rolled your eyes before looking at Chris who was crouched coming in between the two of you. 

“Everything, we just had full blown sex right now. How'd you miss it?” Josh turned slightly to look at Chris. 

“Oh shit no way. Was it hot?” Chris patted Josh on the back. 

“Oh yeah dude. It was, you couldn’t tell? Dude had me cumming three times in the span of a minute. That guys, a real sex god.” They both looked at you bewildered, not uttering a word. 

“Okay, guess I can’t joke around. I’ll leave you ladies to it. I’m going to sit on the couch where it's less awkward.” You got up and moved over to where Ashely was. 

Chris moved to where you had been sitting, “So uh, you and uh, you and her?” He nodded towards you. 

“What about me and her?” Josh continued to try and get the fire going. 

“You finally gonna ask her out?” Chris whispers, “Cuz if you don’t I might just have to. I mean have you seen that ass? Just thinking about it makes me wet. Picture it, her ass up in the air while you're pounding into her and it has her screaming your name.” 

Josh glares over at Chris. Chris laughs, “Just saying the same shit you did buddy. But seriously, I think you should finally go for it. She definitely wants you to.”

You slowly stopped talking when you heard Sam yell about there not being any hot water. Josh got up and was about to head to the basement. 

“Go.” Ashley whispered, but seeing that you didn’t get up she yelled. “Josh, do you need help? Cuz Y/n could definitely help you if you needed help.” 

Josh turned around, “Yeah I could use some help. It’s definitely a two man job.” 

“Alright well if you need me that bad I guess I’ll go.” 

You both stood at the entrance of the basement. “Oh fuck no. I’m not going down there.” 

You didn’t budge, “What you scared?” Josh smirked. 

“Yes actually. Haven’t you ever seen scary movies Josh. People die in basements. There are ghosts and shit down there, psycho’s who are waiting for people to have sex.” 

“You tryin to have sex?” He raised an eyebrow.. 

You glare at him, “Sure buddy. Let’s have sex all you want.” 

He pumps his fist, “Yes.” He sees that you still aren't moving. 

“Alright. Here.” He holds out his arm for you. 

“Come on. Just hold onto me.” You hesitated, “Trust me, if there was anything in there I’d protect you.” 

“Okay.” You wrapped your arm around his, pulling him close. He could feel your breast pressed up against his arm. 

He’d be lying if he said it didn’t get him a little hard. 

After watching Josh fix the boiler he asks for your help. “Alright turn that switch there.”

“Right here?” 

“Yeah.”

You turn the switch on and the boiler starts working. 

“Yes! High five girl!” 

“What are we kids?” You laugh but still give him a high five. 

“Nah cuz if we were kids you wouldn't have said what you did upstairs.” You could hear the flirtation in his voice. 

You could feel your face heat up. “Okay. Let’s just forget about it” You start to walk away but hear a loud sound that scared you. “What was that?” 

You backed up into Josh, the warmth that was radiating off of his chest had you melting. His hands landed on your hips keeping you close. You felt him lean down and talk in your ear. 

“That could be a lot of things. But what I’m focused on is the fact you called me a what was it again? A sex god?” 

You shifted a bit in his grasp, an exhale left his breath. “Don’t do that.” His voice barely above a whisper. 

You felt something boil up from inside you. Something about him whispering in your ear got to you. “Do what? Oh this?” You rubbed your ass against him. 

“Fuck.” Josh gripped your waist tighter. 

“What can’t flirt back.” You felt him start to rub himself against your ass. 

One of his hands shifted from your hip to your pants. He wasted no time slipping his hand down them. His cold hand against your slit was such a sensation. His fingers went past your folds and slipped inside. “Fuck.” You whispered. 

You were at a loss of words as he pumped his fingers in and out slowly. He used his other hand to move your hair out of the way so that he could suck on your neck. His hand going back to your hip to hold you in place. 

“What was that about flirting back?” He felt you tighten around his fingers. 

“Josh please.” 

“Please what?” 

“I need you.” He took his fingers out. Leaving you feeling empty. 

“Need me where.” He put his fingers in his mouth, “God you taste so good.” 

“In me. I need you in me please.” He got right to it. He took off your clothes and his. You could feel his hard dick against your ass. 

He pushed you against the way so that you could lean forward. His dick rubbing against your folds. You could feel his arousal. 

Your once empty hole felt full, the girth and length that this man had. He started out slow. But he picked up the pace. One hand on your hip and the other against your clit. 

“Your pussy feels so good.” He whispered to you. He stopped for a bit before putting you on all fours. Your face pressed against the blanket he gave you earlier. His hands on your waist, gripping them tight enough to leave a bruise. And the feeling of his dick reaching places you wouldn't have felt while being pushed up against the wall. 

Josh's pace starts to pick up. He starts hitting all the right places and it causes you to scream. 

Unbeknownst to you both but there was someone watching. Chris was getting ready to scare you both with the first sound but when you both didn’t go investigating he got closer. That was when he saw you two. He was watching as you were grinding on Josh, and the way Josh started fingering you. He felt himself get hard. He knows he shouldn't have. He had a crush on Ashley. But what he told Josh earlier wasn't that much of a lie. He did think you were hot, especially in high school. Even when Josh dropped out he’d still see you around campus, he always wanted to talk to you. Always wanted to have sex with you. He fantasized about it a lot. 

And now here he is. Watching behind a shelf, with his dick out stroking himself to the sight of his best friend fuck the girl he thought was hot. He could feel himself getting closer to cumming when something fell. 

You both looked up in the direction of the noise. Chris’s face was now visible to you both. “Uh. I heard someone scream.” 

Josh didn’t stop though, the room filled with the sound of skin hitting against one another.  If anything Christ standing and just watching made Josh thrust even harder, like he was trying to claim his dominance. Especially with what Chris was saying earlier. 

You’ve never thought of Chris in that way but being watched did something to you. “Josh” you moaned his name and felt yourself squeezing around his dick. 

“You just gonna stand there Cochise? Cuz it looks like our girl here is getting excited from being watched. I know you haven't gotten your dick sucked. Why don’t you let her get it wet. But don’t expect it again. It’s a one-time offer Cochise.” Josh watched as Chris hesitated. 

“Or you could go back upstairs and not get any from Ashley. Cuz I know you both wont put out.”

In a rush Chris keeps the robe on but gets down on his knees. You prop yourself up but grab his hard dick. You lick the tip before looking up at him and putting it in your mouth. 

“Fuck” Chris lens his head back and grabs a fist full of hair. 

“She’s good isn't she Cochise.” Josh kept ramming into you, saliva dripping down your chin from Chris, dick in your mouth. 

“She's better with her mouth around you. So why don’t I give you a turn and you give me a turn.” 

Anger built up in Josh, “Fuck no.” Josh grabbed your arms and pulled you back up. 

“I have an idea. I don’t think you’ll like it though.” You let Josh slip out of you. You turned around, your lips hovering over his lips. “But I really want to try it. And then after I’m all yours.” 

Josh nodded, you told Chris to lay down. You made Josh watch as you sank down on Chris’ dick. You bounced on it a few times before leaning back against Chris’ chest. 

“You just want me to watch you fuck another guy?”

“No. Just come here.” You wrapped your mouth against his dick and got it wet. You sucked on the tip before pulling back, “I want you to go in.” 

“I’m sorry what?” Chris showed hesitation. 

“Chris please. Come on, don't ever tell me that you two horn dogs never thought about a girl with two dicks in her.” 

Josh smirked at you, “Wow, you’re really taking that party like porn stars seriously.” 

“You said it yourself, ‘it’s a one-time offer.’” 

Josh wasted no time. He leaned you back against Chris. Chris held your waist with one hand and the other hand its way to your breast. You moaned feeling Josh spit on your pussy and his dick. He pushed his dick against your entrance, stretching it and pressing it against Chris’. 

“Fuck” You gasped at the feeling of being filled to the brim. 

Josh starts to thrust, your pussy dripping from arousal makes it easy for them both to move inside you. You could feel yourself coming closer. Your eyes started to water, you felt that tingling sensation on your nose. They could feel you tighten around them. 

Chris pulled out and began to jerk himself off. But Josh kept going even if you began to get overstimulated. He kept fucking you while you were still on top of Chris, he just slightly lifted you to not disturb Chris letting it lose. 

You could feel Josh getting closer. His thrust were erratic, his breathing was heavy. He kept whispering your name until he came inside of you. 

Josh leaned down and kissed you. 

You all stayed there for a moment to catch a breath. That was before Chris got up after cleaning himself. “So uh, we don’t tell Ashely or anyone right?” 

“Right.” You laughed as Josh helped you put on your clothes. 

“And it was a one time thing Chris.” Josh turned around after he finished buttoning his pants. 

“Right right. I get it.” 

You all ended up going back up stairs together. Ashley got up from the couch “What took you guys so long.” She paused before seeing Chris robe. “What in god's name are you wearing?” 

Chris did the Trinity on Ashley, “I found my true calling.” 

“Pretty ironic huh.” Josh whispered over to you, you stiffened a laugh before elbowing him lightly. 

“Please tell me you're going to take a vow of silence.” Ashley joked.

“He better.” Josh spoke a little louder, confusing Ashley a bit. 

After you nudged Josh again he turned to you. “And you. What am I going to do with you?” 

You smirked at him, “With me? I did nothing.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I guess we just gotta go for round two huh.” Josh grabbed your wrist lightly trying to lead you. 

“Oh you mean round two with you know who?” You could see that he got irritated for a second. 

“Yeah sure okay.” Josh leaned down before holding your legs and throwing you over his shoulder. 

“Where are you two going?” Ashley laughed at the two of you. 

Josh started to walk up the stairs, “I gotta talk with her about some stuff. You two have fun down here.”

“Damn that basement really did something for them huh.” She laughed and looked at Chris. Who weirdly looked irritated. 

“Chris?” 

He snapped out of it. “Oh, yeah. It really did. Some kinda trauma bonding or something from the scare I gave them.” 

“Where did you even find that?” Ashley listened to Chris all the weird shit that he found in the basement. Excluding the sex and him watching you and Josh fuck before he joined in.

[slasherfucker101]

breathe if im your favorite blog

thank you

[slasherfucker101]

tf they grabbing at???!!!

[slasherfucker101]

Simon just realised he actually didn't hear the first words you ever said to him.

It's not his fault afterall, you were so mesmerizing and he'd looked at you immediately after you tapped his shoulder. A sudden urge came to paint you in the back of lids, it transformed him. His cheeks heated up as your mouth moved, words rolled and formed and were uttered, eyebrows curving pointedly and your warm, beautiful eyes, fingers pointing and curling, while all he could do was just stare.

Afraid that he would never ever see you again.

“Babe, what did you say to me?” he held at your ankle, pulling it with a pop.

“Oh that felt ah—great, huh?”

He took your another feet in his lap, adjusting his grip around the bones he'll worship to marrow. “When we first met sweetheart, you were saying something to me.”

“Ah, that was...hey can you tell your friend to stop hitting on my friend or I'll break his bones and feed it to my dog.” you smiled, leaning back and waiting for him to crack your joints.

True. Johnny was in his spirits that night.

Simon caressed your ankle, then pulled your leg up to kiss it two times. “Cute, very cute of you,” he said, pressing a third kiss.

Masterlist

[slasherfucker101]

Ghost and König being absolute tit lovers

Ghost is wild feral about your tits. When you ask why, he just says they fit his palms so well, so squishy squishy, like it's his personal stress toy. So when he puts you in a very mean mating press, using his sizeable and pronounced shoulders to pin your doughy thighs down, he happily slobbers away on your tits (where his mouth covers your boob, his tongue giving your nipple flicks every second and his fingers kneading and pinching the other), while his thick girth delicious pushes in and out of your weeping hole, giving your clitoris its occasional sting, as your back arches giving him more to suck on. Not to mention his episodic whining, ecstatic eye rolls and intoxicated (boobsdrunk) sight always lingering on your gaping, sweating face all the time as Ghost holds you by your waist, his hands wandering everywhere to give you more sensation. His ultimate aim to have your boobs to suck on and make you blissfully spent on your orgasms.

König is pathetic when it comes to your tits. No matter what you are doing, he will and absolutely will come up to you from behind, only to grab your precious assets in his wide palms, all while his chubby erection humps on your rear end. He kisses the side of your neck, gripping and kneading your boobs fully with sharp precision, his mind drowning in the feeling of it. When you finally give in to his relentless requests, his brain short circuits at the view of you sitting with nothing on in his lap. He slowly kisses (almost makes out) with your nipple, sending electric shocks through your body. He helps you sink down on the monstrously sized shaft of his, but you still jerk even after having so many such encounters with him. Not once does he not give attention to your boobs, for he whines on moans on them. Your nails dig in his shoulders, but he doesn't give a shit as long as his mouth is occupied and you are enjoying. When you finally reach your climax, his head is squeezed by you into your chest., where he just feels bliss and heaven.

《Asks are open!》

[slasherfucker101]

You never know who's sitting in the next booth.

[slasherfucker101]

I need to ride someone from the armament... ALL OF EM

POV: Giving your biker boyfriend a heart attack on camera

[slasherfucker101]

a family forged in curses – satoru gojo x reader

a/n: sorry i haven't been writing work has been burning me out and i've been playing the sims in my free time to cope wc: 3.2k you and satoru get called to the office after an incident with megumi at school. fluff, mama bear reader, talks of child neglect ((no one is neglected)), tsumikiii and megumiii best siblings. think i went off too hard with the principal idk why i was pressed

satoru gojo sat in one of the stiff chairs of the principal’s office. heavy glands of sweat formed on his temple and slipped down to the hem of his uniform shirt. he braced the clamminess of his hands against the curve of the leather armrest. the air was thick, and as his chest heaved he inhaled the tension that constricted his throat with a tight burn. the fear was unfamiliar, spurring on the unsettling agitation of his stomach.

megumi was seated behind him, seemingly just as terrified– his eyes blown wide in horror as he stared at the black and blue knuckles laid in his lap. there was a dried bloodstain on his thumb, taunting him. he covered it with his opposite hand. 

it was a nice day outside, the sun was shining and it wasn’t too hot or too cold. sunlight filled the room and reflected off of the finish of the principal’s wooden desk.

“these recent developments in megumi’s behavior, truly, are just detestable. i truly can’t say i’ve seen anything like it in the years i’ve worked at this school.”

satoru’s eyes flickered to you, seated closest to the door. your hands were neatly clasped together over your crossed legs, posture straight as if it’d be graded. there was an attempt to portray yourself with amiableness, but he caught the disgust in your eyes. he’d seen it before, when making contact with the blood of a curse, the times utahime tried to cook for faculty parties, when satoru himself shoved his overseas souvenirs in your face that were way too sweet to be considered edible. though, they paled in comparison to the rage you seeped now. your smile was relaxed, polite, but the rest of your face was pinched with frustration. the temptation of smoothing over the space between your eyebrows tugged at his fingertips, but was pushed to the side as he watched the air around you turn to steam. 

on the way in you passed the nurse’s office. with a glance you caught on to the fact that there were a handful of middle schoolers sporting the spoils of megumi’s martial arts training. they were older, bigger, with teary eyes and blubbering incoherently about the recent string events to the staff. among them, tucked in the corner, was a kid much smaller and seemed to meet a different fate. he hugged his knees to his chest and stared longingly at the wall. there were a few scratches on his forehead and a crack in the lens of his glasses.

“it’s my understanding that megumi doesn’t have many friends here, and i’m afraid further acts of delinquency will only disconnect him from his peers.” the principal inhaled deeply. “it’s safe to say he already is considered a disgrace of some sort. his own sister seems to avoid him in the halls.”

your chest bobbed with slow, calming breaths. despite that, your tone was harsh, “i don’t mean to interrupt, but from my understanding, megumi stepped in on another student who was forced to eat pavement in the courtyard.”

megumi visibly winced at your inflection, curling himself into his seat a bit more and tucking his hands under his thighs. in the back of his mind, he knew he’d do it again. but he would do anything to prevent you from showing up to his school like this. the first few times an incident like this happened, it had been gojo alone who was called (he was much closer, with you being sent off on missions. and the staff preferred to speak with another teacher– it would be sound logic if it wasn’t gojo).

gojo, who nodded absentmindedly to the concerns of the staff and took megumi out for ice cream after. ice cream for himself, really– megumi’s appetite was usually flushed out by his embarrassment as soon as they left the office. he would probe gently at megumi’s antics, and conclude their outing by promising to downplay when speaking to you later.

the principal was a stout man, before you sat down you caught the slight wind of his feet swinging back and forth behind his desk. there was a disconnect between where the part in his hair once was and where the shiny toupee settled on his head. every so often, he scratched it with uncertainty and tousled his ‘hair’ into sticking in different directions.

“that is… handled–”

“because he handled it.” you said sharply, dragging your smile to your features again. the principal was seeing through it much more now. 

he sighed. “i called you here more to discuss the state of megumi’s relationships.”

“and how is this relevant to the incident at hand?” you spoke slowly, nodding your head forward as if to say: choose your next words wisely. 

“well, it’s hardly isolated. in most situations like these, the root cause stems from home life.” he rushes out his words, his accusatory stare turning to one of caution as he meets your eyes again. not so much for your sake, but for his. “to be frank, i don’t believe he’s receiving the right attention at home.”

there was a quiet shuffle outside, against the office door. out of your peripheral, you watched as a shadow was cast over the sliver of light peeking through the bottom by the squeaky rubber of what you knew were two pink tennis shoes. 

your jaw, if possible, tensed even more. megumi’s head snapped to you, catching the slightest tick as you jutted your chin in the direction of the principal. once he wasn’t so taken by fear, he could appreciate your ability to contain the cursed energy that flowed through you. he was unable to detect even a rouse of energy, whereas his nerves manifested in the palms of his fists with an unruly flame licking his forearms. beside him, he sensed the presence of gojo’s infinity, activated on pure reflex as his body recognized the looming hostility in the atmosphere.

“i have to say i disagree–” your head tilted to the side, and you ignored the loud gulp of your counterpart. 

“i expected as much. it’s my understanding that neither of you are all that present at home, it’s been said you both take long trips out of town for your work? is that true? have you considered the effects this has on megumi and tsumiki? i’ve heard she often–”

in an instant, your pupils shrank themselves into the size of needles, the color of your eyes remaining concentrated with anger. the muscles around your eyes twitched as you fought off the indignant expression that threatened to reveal itself.

“and i find this an inappropriate conversation to broach with megumi in the room,” your voice raised slightly as you cut him off. “there is a time, a place, and a counselor more suited for this discussion– and you’ve overlooked every measure and jumped to the conclusion he’s neglected? and from what, exactly? things that have ‘been said’ on campus grounds, by other children? rumors? i’m ashamed to see the lack of forethought prior and instead you jump to scrutinize blindly.”

every word was charged with venom, further filling the office space with an uncomfortable strain at their muscles. satoru winced, sliding his palms over the armrest to relieve himself of the sticky sweat he’d accumulated– and he had unconsciously squeezed the metal into a new shape. his chest was tight as you sucked the air from his lungs and used it to break down the principal with the eloquence of your words.

“it speaks to the reputation you’ve accrued, though. i expected as much.”

“excuse me–!”

you raised your palm. “i’m not sure i can. you summon us to an office to insult us and insunitate we aren’t parenting our son, not even present in his life, and on top of it have the gall to call him a delinquent?”

you rose to your feet, narrowed eyes still settled on the man in front of you. megumi and satoru were quick to rise with you, unsteady hands settling on their chairs to prevent them from hitting the floor. the principal went ignored as he urged satoru with his eyes to speak up, to put a stop to the scene before him. unfortunately for him, satoru’s eyes were trained on you with unwavering loyalty, waiting with baited breath for your next move. 

the principal faced his palm to you, gesturing for you to sit. “miss y/l/n–”

“it’s gojo.” you snagged your jacket from the armrest, glowering eyes promptly cutting him off. he gawked like a fish out of water, a thin layer of sweat beginning to sheen over his forehead. “you better update your damn records before the next time i’m back here.”

you opened the door swiftly, catching tsumiki side-stepping at the last second to feign innocence. a futile attempt, you both know, as she reddens with embarrassment and turns her head with a lingering pout.

following you into the empty halls of the middle school was like a breath of fresh air for satoru and megumi, the cool atmosphere consoling them from the warping heat of your vexation. the raven-haired boy gravitated to his sister as they shared a concerned expression, your unaccustomed anger driving knots into their stomachs. your silence was deafening, the only sound being the rapid thumps of your footsteps overshadowing the entourage of much quieter ones behind you.

satoru fell into step with you, slipping his glasses down to the tip of his nose as he observed. it was in his nature to poke the bear, to push and push and push until it broke, and he would relish in the chaos that followed. however, since you were thrust upon his life his mind was overridden with an instinct to preserve your open heart laid bare before him, to ease your tensions and give until there was nothing left of him. to pull you closer and closer until you were one.

at your wish, he’d part the seas and move mountains and throw himself across every puddle in between for you to walk on.

“tsumiki, megumi, can you go get your stuff from your lockers?” your tone softened, despite the crinkle you still held between your eyebrows. even as your anger dissipated, your frustrations lingered like the kindling of a fire ready to light itself again.

they nodded fervently, disappearing down one of the hallways with quick footsteps. satoru kept himself in line with you as you approached the vestibule of the school entrance, a delicate hand finding your wrist and fingers pressing gently into your palm. 

he closed the distance, leaning into you. his voice ghosted the shell of your ear as he teased, “you know, seeing you get all riled up was kind of hot.”

you scrunched your nose, biting back a smile. you didn’t have to look at him to know he was wiggling his eyebrows. unfortunately, even the days you tried to wallow in your anger he was there to sweep it away. “yeah, right. that’s why you were shaking in your boots.”

“shaking? me?” his free hand splayed against his chest and he looked to the ceiling with a roll of his eyes. “only out of concern for that poor principal.”

“you don’t think he deserved it?”

“i think you went too easy on him.” satoru smirked. it was your turn to roll your eyes. 

the two of you fell quiet again, satoru with an unrelenting stare. you finally met his eyes as he silently wished for, he poured admiration into his gaze and hopes you would let it cling to you in the way he was desperate to with his own arms.

your eyebrows narrowed again as a heavy could hung over your heade. as you began to reflect, your shoulders sagged under the weight of your thoughts. “he’s wrong though, right?” 

satoru forced you to take a proper hold of his hand, squeezing as you averted your gaze. 

“of course he’s wrong, we’re great to that little brat.” he threw his arm up in exaggeration, his body closely following as it wrapped itself around your shoulders like it had a mind of its own. there’s a comment lingering on the tip of his tongue, he doesn’t utter it, knowing it’s stinging the back of your mind as well– it was either us or the zenin clan. “both of them. if they had any issues i’m sure they would’ve ran away already.”

you frowned at him. long ago, when satoru had first dragged them into your life, the fear loomed over you daily. the possibility of them running away, deciding the streets would be better than two crazed strangers that spoke of monsters and cursed energy, had constricted your muscles with fear to the point of physical exhaustion. 

you always tormented yourself with the question if they really liked living with you, being raised by you despite the chaos of jujutsu (and the excruciating taunts of satoru gojo). 

come to think of it, you don’t know the last time something like that crossed your mind. 

“really. you’re doing a great job, you always have. especially considering our…” he lowered his voice to a playful whisper, “unconventional circumstances.”

“do you think they want to leave?”

“not a chance. i’m sure they’re siphoning money out of my bank accounts as we speak, and they’ll use me ‘til i die.”

you smiled, shaking your head. the fear in your composure was beginning to resolve, as you melted into the warmth of his hand. he took that as his invitation to reel you in closer, wrapping his arm around your waist. he reached forward and gently pressed his thumb into the space between your eyebrows, satisfying the urge that had been buzzing his fingertips for what felt like forever. pride swelled in his chest when he pulled his hand away and you relaxed, your expression no longer holding on to your sorrows.

for good measure, he placed a sloppy, wet kiss in your cheek that you squealed at. he grinned as you tried pushing him away through your laughter, slapping against his chest– a futile attempt as he only tightened his grip on you and pulled you impossibly closer to land another one on your opposite cheek. 

“you– are so– annoying–!” you claimed through giggles, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. his slobber came with it, all that remained being the hot flush of embarrassment.

“how could you wipe away my love so easily?” he pouted. he began to dip you– or rather, you began to dip yourself as he leaned closer and closer. 

“we’re at a school, there could be children around.” you wrapped your arms around his neck, dangerously close to being horizontal. 

“so? at some point they take a sex ed class, right?”

“satoru!”

after scurrying through the halls, tsumiki watched with a bored stare as megumi stretched for the top shelf of his locker for his textbooks, her arms crossed as she leaned against the cream locker next to his. he still had to rise to his tippy toes, being a little less than a head shorter than her. she heard that boys hit their growth spurts later and it was a lot more sudden, she wondered if he’d end up taller.

he slipped each book into the backpack hanging half-zipped on his shoulder at a leisure pace. his pinched expression had a striking similarity to the one you held barreling out of the office, though he held less anger, and he seemed disconnected from his surroundings. there was a fog over his eyes while he mulled over his thoughts.

she rolled her eyes at the mysterious demeanor he fought so hard to maintain. she believed he probably thought he seemed cool that way– too cool to express his vulnerability.

“so, she called you her son.”

megumi glanced at her with a quick side-eye, pausing the rough shove of his textbook into his bag. as much as he wished to stay reserved and withdrawn from the rest of the world, she always seemed to know what he was thinking. annoyance weighed in his chest.

“okay, so?”

she looked at him expectantly. “so, how do you feel about it?”

“i feel fine.”

“are you going to say anything to her?”

he rolled his eyes. “it was a slip of the tongue, tsumiki. there’s nothing to say.”

she glared for a brief moment, before reaching for the last book at the top of his locker. it was tucked in the corner too far for him to grab himself, she wondered how he got it up there in the first place.

tsumiki handed it to him, and he begrudgingly accepted it. as much as he hated asking for help, he hated her offering without asking much more. 

“you know that’s not true. i heard her talking in there, she didn’t stutter once. she knew what she was saying, even if she was pissed off.”

he was quiet, shutting the metal door with a soft click that contrasted his hardened expression. or, the attempt he could muster with reddened cheeks and a gentle understanding in his gaze. guilt filled his stomach, you were really pissed. “so, what, you want me to start calling her mom?” he continued with a mumble, “i’m not calling gojo dad, ever.”

tsumiki didn’t point out that he implied he was open to calling you mom, instead turning her head with a proud smirk. ”pfft, he’d never let you live it down.”

the pair fell into stride in the hallway, soft footsteps echoing in the halls. megumi caught the glances of his peers in their classrooms, peaking into the hall window with curiosity wondering why they’d be roaming.

“maybe we get her a mother’s day card this year,” tsumiki pondered out loud, reflecting on the day in years past. thank you cards had sufficed thus far, despite the lingering tension around the holiday and the bouquets thrown on your dining room table, none of you ever broached the topic of motherhood.

megumi stayed quiet, looking out the window and ignored the growing grin of his sister. she knew well the lack of his pushback might as well have been him jumping up and down with glee. the picture drew out a muffled giggle that made his cheeks burn.

“do you think she’s mad?” he asked out loud. he knew you were. as long as you’d been in their lives there was an everlasting sweetness of your composure, and he wasn’t quite sure what to expect. 

tsumiki laughed loudly now, though short-lived as they turned the corner and spotted you at the end of the hall. your hair was a bit tousled and your husband had his arms wrapped around you pathetically, whining about something she was sure you could all agree was insignificant. you stood tall to the best of your ability, being weighed down by the stature of a 6’3” man.

your eyes snapped to them with a natural instinct, spotting the slightest figure of your dependents, your kids, and keeping a watchful eye. your gaze softened as tsumiki grinned, grabbing her brother's arm and pulling him to match her quickening pace.

she was always quite perceptive. from afar, she detected the warmth of your admiration reaching out with tentative fingers carefully beckoning them into your embrace. 

“i think she’s over it.”

(p.s. you weren’t– megumi was on dish duty and had to help tsumiki with her english homework that week.)

[slasherfucker101]

How they kiss you..

Osano doesn't kiss you, you kiss him. But when you're both on the bus home after a date, and you lay your head on his shoulder, he kisses your forehead. His kisses are light and soft, kind and gentle, saying the words he'd never say aloud for him.

Amao's kisses are gentle and warm, like the sun peaking through on a cloudy day. He cups his hands on your cheeks, caressing you as you kiss. Holding your face like it's the most precious thing in the world.

Kizano kisses you like you're saying farewell forever. Clinging to you as though you'll vanish by the time he pulls away. He has kissed many for the sake of theater, but never in the way he kisses you.

Oko's kisses are quick and anxiety riddled. He basically ran away from you the first time he kissed you. But every so often, as though he's possessed, he kisses you in a way that leaves chills all over your body, as though you've seen a ghost.

Asuo peppers your face, kissing your cheeks, forehead, nose, and jaw, before finally landing on your lips. His laughter as he does this is unparalleled and could rival the sound of angels singing.

Osoro's kisses are ravenous, like he needs you more than he needs air. Usually corners you against a wall or chain link fence, notably holding your hand in his as you kiss.

Megamo's kisses are subtle and formal, usually on the cheek as a greeting or goodbye, or when he kisses your hand whenever you're walking down the street. They leave feeling like a fairy tale protagonist who just got saved by prince Charming.