#and has ruined himself to the point of no return

[tsams-confessions]

Alert much text:

It is one thing is, supposedly, that Sun has not had changes in his life that "justify" that his mental and emotional health has been improving. And another thing is that these changes are not enough for you. Let's do a review. Do you really remember when Sun was REALLY BAD to the point of having dangerous intrusive thoughts and even hallucinations? In those days his worst enemy had obtained an object of incalculable power, having the possibility of destroying him and everything he loved with a snap of his fingers if had wanted to. TWO of his brothers had died, one had to restart, and the other was between life and death very far from him. The guilt flooding his mind and soul for killing Bloodmoon was so great that he saw and heard it. Everyone around him except Moon and Earth hated him. Not to mention that shortly after, a crazy man suddenly appeared who represented ANOTHER THREAT to him and his family. All that without mentioning all the damage suffered from the abuse of Old Moon and Eclipse, and I'm sure I've forgotten things but let's leave that as the most relevant.

Now… Does everything previously said remain the same?

Of course NOT!!!!!!!! Sun has his family back, and even his family grew with the integration of Earth, Solar, and i dare include Jack. He has also been able to make more friends than before, like Foxy, Puppet, Solar, he has even gotten to interact more with Freddy than did before. All this translates into a very important support net. With the return of Lunar, both he and Earth help Sun in Daycare, which gives him more time for himself, to play and relax, spend time with his cats or simply watching a television series with a friend. TIME FOR REST AND HEALTHY RECREATION. It should also be said that his feared enemy, Eclipse, was destroyed, and he played a fundamental role in that, he did not allow Moon to do all the work, Sun also helped, risking his life in the process, he was able to feel useful and important. That at the time was a HUGE weight that was lifted from his shoulders. T

hen, perhaps one of the most important things: HE STARTED RECEIVING THERAPY.

And yes, probably for many what they see in the videos is not an authentic therapy session, but hey, the actors are not psychologists or professional therapists, they are voice actors and gamers, they do what they can with the time and knowledge they have, and what matters is that these sessions fulfill the function of treatment for the character, whether the viewers like it or not. It's even been mentioned that he receives more treatments and goes to more sessions with Earth than we see on screen, they just can't show them all. Another thing, moving away from his workplace, having his own space that only belongs to him and Moon, not a room owned by Fazbear, that must have been LIBERATING. In addition to the feeling of independence and freedom, he also had to make Sun stop thinking a little about his work for the first time in his life, because he no longer literally lived in his work. And as much as it bothers several people that Solar was the one who helped Moon the most before his tragedy, whether they like it or not, it was Sun's conscious decision to take a break from the Daycare-related chaos because SINCE HE WAS CREATED, HAVEN'T HAD A TIME PROLONGED PEACE IN THEIR LIFE. He knew wasn't going to be much help in tracking down Eclipse, any more than Lunar or Earth were, and no one faults them for that. Our strengths and talents will not always be required, the important thing is to take care of ourselves and be ready when we can help; Sun had complete trust in Moon and Solar, and they most of the time informed him of his progress, such as when Eclipse was captured or when Moon told him of his suspicions about Ruin. Of course, it has had its ups and downs, it wouldn't be TSAMS if everything were easy, without a doubt Ruin along with the copies of Bloodmoon and Eclipse were responsible for hindering the process of recovery and progress of the celestial family, especially Sun, but that, The process exists, the progress exists, perhaps it is more subtle than with other characters because on the Sun and Moon channel the emotional conversations almost cause those two dumbs men to vomit.

The point is, Sun has changed, everything around him has changed from when he was in his deepest and darkest moment, and he has been changing and evolving along with his family and his surroundings.

Maybe it's not the change you would like or the one you expected, but don't tell lies claiming that this change for the better happened out of nowhere, because then it seems like you only saw the episode where Sun said that sometimes he wished he were dead and then he just you skipped to the current ones ignoring both their experiences on their own channel and others. Oh, and i almost forgot, with everything said above i have not meant for a moment that Sun is completely cured, because it is evident that his anxiety and low self-esteem problems still exist, they have not disappeared, but he has learned techniques to deal with them, learn to live with their problems, healthier coping methods, and that is already an improvement, not a cure, but certainly an improvement.

.

[howdaretrashships]

Feihua Most Unhinged Moment Tournament: Semi Finals, Bracket 1

Tournament Masterpost

Propaganda:

Option 1: "You're still so clingy."

They, until very recently, each thought the other was dead. (Not a wild conclusion to come to. Di Feisheng was told Li Xiangyi died, and he was in seclusion healing from his injuries. The world assumed he was dead when he wasn't heard from for ten years.)

When Li Lianhua (Li Xiangyi) last saw Di Feisheng, he was planning to kill him. And then the poison took effect. The poison that allowed Di Feisheng to get the upper hand. (The poison that would have killed him sooner if not for a certain monk.)

With the clues he put together over the years, Li Lianhua couldn't be blamed for thinking Di Feisheng poisoned him. Or, perhaps, that he knowingly let his subordinates poison him.

(If Di Feisheng would kill is shixiong, and steal the body after they negotiated a truce, what wouldn't he do?)

But Li Lianhua reveals himself as Li Xiangyi and meets his supposed enemy.

Why then, if they are supposed to be enemies, does Di Feisheng greet him with "How have you been?"? (If he knowingly poisoned him, or let it happen, shouldn't he know? Shouldn't the question be a little more pointed; a little more winkwinknudgenudge smirksandgloating?)

And why, if they are supposed to be enemies, does Li Lianhua respond with "You're still so clingy after not seeing each other for ten years."? (And not: "Shouldn't you know? Considering you poisoned me?")

(And what does it say about their relationship before Donghai that he says still so clingy? That Di Feisheng... is Still. So. Clingy.)

"You're still so clingy..." said to a supposed enemy that smiles after finding out Li Lianhua (Li Xiangyi) isn't dead. Said in response to the supposed enemy genuinely asking how he's been the last ten years.

(And then Di Feisheng is surprised and angry on his behalf when he finds out Li Xiangyi [Li Lianhua] is Not Okay.)

Option 2: Di Feisheng writing 'If Found Return to Li Lianhua' on his hand

You've been investigating how everything went so wrong ten years ago. You've determined that someone has been working behind the scenes to drive a wedge between you and your... husband rival ex... rival for their own benefit. The lead you have is the crazy lady that's obsessed with you, but she couldn't have done it herself.

You're this close to finding out who she's working with and being rid of her for good when the guy shows up to save her, stabs you in the side, and poisons you with something you can feel will ruin your lifelong progress in martial arts.

Do you go to your personal bodyguard? No. (Well, maybe you couldn't find him, but still.)

No. You take the time to wrap your dao in rags to disguise it and then you go to the Sigu Sect waterfall and write "Find Li Lianhua' on your hand. It's a note for yourself. Y'know, since you've isolated the poison in such a way that you'll have amnesia.

Ok, note for yourself - check. Then what?

Well then you walk into the river just before you pass out and let it take you downstream.

What's downstream? Well who knows really. Your rival, Li Lianhua, the man previously known as Li Xiangyi? Maybe a blind guy collecting corpses to sell into ghost marriages?

What if someone else finds you first, what then, huh? Better hope they don't recognize you when you don't even know yourself anymore.

But don't worry.

The note on your hand says you belong to Li Lianhua.

[faux-ee]

UGLY CRYING AT CHAPTER 4 DAMN WHAT THE STARS OWN

WHAT WAS THAT

LIBBY THIS IS GOING TO BE THE DEATH OF ME

OH MY GAWD I'm so glad it hurt *evil cackles* i hope the plot still makes sense I'm sort of rushing things tbh 👉👈

NO NO BUT SRSLY tysm Alistair I'm sorry for making u cry 🥺🥺 next chap will be up in a day ❤

[sqlmn]

the problem with trying to design a helmet for the demon lord is he already has horns and I have no idea how to design fantasy armor. u_u so here's a basic attempt that is hopefully not final.

[necrosin]

thinking abt how love ruined suguru and everything he loved don't mind me.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Need more Liam and Jesse headcanons

You write men way too fine

It’s not good for my health

I can only ever date fictional men now. You’ve ruined me. I hope you’re happy

I live to ruin people and their perception of love

But yes I can. And I’ll also share more lore on Liam Isbert.

Yandere Headcanons: Happy Family

Yandere single father and Yandere platonic stepson

Getting used to living with Liam and Jesse was strange. First you had been abducted to live with the two of them. You do not ever expect to play happy family after you yourself had went through an abusive relationship.

For many years, you had been scared to love again. So this is all very new to you. You did not expect to be loved so intensely by a father and son who are so desperate for love to the point they’d abduct you from your life to be in theirs.

Liam often bought you roses to try to make up for your abduction. He would take you on dates and clumsily attempt romantic endeavors with you. Such as fancy diner dates with exquisite clothes you could never dream to afford. Or he would take you and Jesse on vacation to tropical Islands. The world was at Liam‘s fingertips… you had no idea a man could be so wealthy.

Jesse often snuck into your room to sleep beside you. The young boy desperate for your affection. He’d always bring a book with him so you could read to him every night.

Jesse often would want to try to get you to help him tie his shoes or cut his crusts off his sandwiches too. He’d even try to get you to style his hair for him, he adored your love more than anyone. And he wasn’t happy about you shying away from him and his dad. Couldn’t you just accept them?

Liam never touched you in ways that made you uncomfortable (save for that kiss many months ago before he took you home). Liam was apologetic about his actions but he didn’t want to return you… he too was scared by a relationship

In confidence, Liam shared with you his trauma without Jesse present. It turned out that Liam was assaulted by a woman who wished to be involved with the Isbert family at a dinner party his father organized. From that traumatizing night, Jesse was conceived and that woman did her best to threaten Liam to pay her or she’d ruin his name.

Liam was lucky she had died during childbirth but his experience with her made it hard for him to bond with Jesse. He knows that Jesse was not to blame and was just as much a victim as him, but Liam saw snippet of Jesse’s mother in him.

Liam was so grateful to you for showing him how to love and move past his trauma. That he wished to do the same for you despite not knowing much about comfort.

Liam truly wants a happy relationship and he’s willing to give you as much time as you need to accept him, but he won’t give you back your freedom. Liam has too many enemies and snakes that desire your spot, you could be killed and he’d never forgive himself for that…

It takes a few more months for you to open up to trying a relationship with Liam and he’s over the moon.

Liam is a bit clumsy as a lover, but he’s trying. He’s turned off his emotions for so many years and he’s not used to expressing them in a healthy manner so you’ll have to teach him how to love

Over all, he’s not a horrible husband and father. Liam is very easy to guide and teach.

And Jesse is just thrilled to finally have you as his mommy. He finally has the happy family he had dream about since he was three.

[wriothesleybear]

Outlaw!Boothill x Saloongirl!reader headcanons

~warnings: slight mentions of jealousy, stealing, and western stand offs that involve guns, shooting a man. Otherwise, mentions of flirting, nicknames, cheesy pickup lines from our favorite robot cowboy, pre-release Boothill, fem!reader.

~a/n: Just a quick little something due to @the-guardian-kitsune wanting me to share my thoughts on Mr. Robot Cowboy. Boothill's leaks are invading my mind while I wait for the update today. His ultimate...omg its so good! Is it bad that I get tingles when I hear the whip in his animation?

Outlaw!Boothill is the most fearsome outlaw in the town. Everyone runs to close their shops and doors when he comes into town. He's usually harassing the town sheriff with his buddies or robbing people. If someone gets on his nerves and actually has the guts to try and stand up to him, it likely ends in a stand off.

Outlaw!Boothill spends his time flirting with you when he's not busy stealing and holding up stagecoaches and trains. Always goes to your saloon, specifically for you. No one else really captured his eye except for you. Plus most of the other saloon girls are scared of him. For some reason, you're not. Hence, making him take interest in you. While everyone usually steers clear of him, you aren't afraid to talk to him.

How you guys met was he stomped his way into your saloon one day, looking for some whiskey. Seeing the most wanted outlaw, your other customers immediately fled. He plops himself down in a chair, kicking his boots up onto the table, waving his hand for a drink. "Hey little lady, you mind gettin' me some whiskey. Neat." You were already annoyed at this cowboy storming his way in your saloon, scaring your customers off and ruining your business.

Boothill looks up and notices you haven't moved from your spot behind the counter. Instead, you're crossing your arms and giving him an annoyed look. He glares at you. "Did you hear me darlin'? Whiskey. Neat." You don't move an inch, returning his glare and simply say no. He's caught a bit off guard for a second. He's used to people being too scared to stand up to him. "No?" He gets up, slowly walking towards the bar where you're at. "Do you know who I am." He points to the wanted sign on the wall nearby, his face adorns the flier. You glance at it. "Yeah. And? I don't serve rude customers. Either learn some manners or get out." Now he's thrown off his high horse. He's never had someone call him out like you did. You expected him to become more hostile, but instead, he just laughs. "Alright little lady." Since that day, he's been attracted to you. He likes the way you aren't afraid to stand up for yourself and speak your mind, especially towards him. He likes the 'feisty little lady that you are'. His own words that he used when he first asked you out.

Outlaw!Boothill teases you to get you worked up on purpose. If you really want to get him to shut up, call him "Bootie". The first time you called him that, you swear you saw his cheeks go red. Knowing the effect the nickname has on him, you use it when you're not in the mood for his teasing. But the times when you get so annoyed at his teasing that you angrily walk away, he uses his whip to grab you, pulling you right back into his arms and dipping you. Your heart skips a beat as he lowers his head to yours. You hold your breath while at a loss for words as he says, "Now where do you think you're going little lady?"

Outlaw!Boothill gets jealous when other men try to swoon you or check you out in your little saloon outfit. He is a protective boyfriend and is the type to defend your honor. So when he sees someone harassing you, he either challenges them to a stand off or he just straight up takes care of them right there in the saloon. Ugh just imagine: watching as the two men take 10 paces in opposite directions as everyone watches from the sidelines. Nerves invade your senses, worries cloud your mind about the men fighting over you. You don't want anyone to get hurt especially Boothill. Then, at the end of the countdown, both men quickly turn to each other, guns raised and they go off. Boothill is left standing as the other man falls to the floor. He walks over to you as you're left in shock. "Now darlin'. How about a kiss for your cowboy?"

Outlaw!Boothill who spoils you with his attention and gifts (which he probably stole). He gets a bit annoyed and offended when you don't accept his gifts, saying how he shouldn't steal things from others. It just goes over his head and he says "Darlin', I think you're the real criminal here since you stole my heart." This usually shuts you up. Your cheeks turn red as he smirks. Turning away from him, you quietly say, "Just.. go easy on stealing gifts for me, Bootie." He ignores your signature nickname for him and turns you to face him. Pulling you close to his chest, he says, "Whatever you say, darlin'." He gives you his signature shark tooth smile. He would never admit it but he's whipped for you. No pun intended.

[dolimiu]

ATTACHED AT THE HIP !

katsuki bakugo  ×  fmr   𝞋𝞎   synopsis ;   someone as rough around the edges as bakugo makes it hard to believe that there's more to him than just a loud and vulgar mouth. however, whenever you come into the picture, he tends to ease up a bit. ──  ❪   fluff  childhood bsfs pre war arc  0.7k  mutual pining,  cw  none   ❫

soft is not a word anyone would use to describe katsuki bakugo. in fact, if someone tried to call him that, they'd be met with a vulgar insult — one that would likely make them gasp.

he hates nicknames (which is ironic, since he rarely calls anyone by their real name), despises people who get in his way or talk too much, and also those who talk too little. he loathes unwarranted smiles, excessive selflessness, and countless other things. bakugo hates a lot; that's no secret. in fact, he might hate people who pretend to be perfect the most. katsuki bakugo is rough in all aspects. he's extremely athletic and smart, with an abrasive and improvement-hungry personality that is loud and unyielding. he doesn't need anyone in his life to set him apart or help him on his journey to the top.

however, you're different. not in a way that he needs you, but you might be the only person he wants with him. people cock their heads in surprise when they see you two together, wondering how anyone could manage a conversation with bakugo without being screamed at. whispers circulate about the two of you. "they must be dating," denki whispers to mina, who nods quickly in agreement. the yellow-haired teen leans on mina's desk, side-glancing at the unlikely pair. "i mean," he continues, "he gets pissed if i so much as glance at him the wrong way. but look!" his finger points across the room to you, standing in front of bakugo's desk, smiling and chatting during the break. the craziest part might be that bakugo isn't even glaring at you; he's just listening with a straight face — something not even kirishima has experienced.

"i think they're talking about us again," you say, feeling slightly dejected about the not-so-subtle stares from mina and denki. they were wrong, though. you and bakugo aren't dating — just old childhood friends who have grown and gotten stronger together. you watched bakugo pull himself out of his ego and mature, while he watched you solidify your resolve and overcome obstacles.

"eh, let 'em… annoying ass extras," katsuki grumbles, his regular hardened glare returning as he glances at the gossipers. you chuckle at your best friend's response, watching as his eyes soften once they land back on you.

you smile at him. "wanna go grab lunch, katsu?"

katsuki groans quietly as he stands up. "yeah, sure." you follow him out of the classroom, walking down the hallway in silence. you let yourself mull over the whispers of "dating" and your names in the same sentence. on one hand, it was crazy. both of you have your own goals and ambitions, with no time to waste on love. you are strong, driven to grow even more powerful to save others. romance has no place in a hero's life.

and yet… a part of you aches. maybe it's the hopeless romantic in you or just wishful thinking, but being with katsuki makes your face feel hot. the thought of not being there for him as more than a friend stings, your stomach twisting in knots at the idea.

"hey, whatcha thinkin' about?" katsuki's raised eyebrow and intense crimson eyes bore into you. "better not be somethin' stupid again," he says as you line up for food.

you panic slightly; katsuki has a knack for picking your brain better than you'd like. "oh, it's nothing! just thinking about how a lot has happened lately." you gulp, glancing at the menu. "sounds delicious! i can't wait to eat!" you laugh, hoping he won't notice it's fake.

"but it's your least favorite food," katsuki's eyebrows furrow. "you spit it out once in fifth grade and complained the rest of the afternoon about how it 'ruined your day.'" your mouth goes dry, mind blank. "i don't know what you're thinkin', but," he pokes you between the eyebrows, "everything's gonna be fine, 'kay? so don't go thinkin' you're all alone and shit — 'cause i'm always right by ya, idiot." his eyes drift away. "now let's go grab somethin' else. don't wanna hear ya complain later."

butterflies rampage in your stomach. are childhood best friends supposed to make you feel this way? the way katsuki bakugo does as he grabs your wrist and leads you down the hallway? your other childhood friend izuku doesn't, so maybe this is different. maybe the way you feel is different. or maybe, you two were just born to be attached at the hip.

© dolimiu kinda wrote this half awake so sorry if it is straight garbage !!!! but hope u enjoy anonnie, congrats on being my first request >< lots of love 2 u and all the other readers :3

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

Good Girl - K.MG

🖐Who; Kim Mingyu (Seventeen) x reader 🖐What; Smut, best friends to fuckers/lovers? idk they're besties and they start fucking 🖐Wordcount; 3.8k 🖐Warnings; profanity, spanking, dom gyu, sub reader, a shit ton of petnames omg, dirty talk, pussy slapping, fingering, spit, gyu's giant everything but especially his cock <3, degradation(omg save me), unprotected sex, oral(f), cum eating, praise, squirting

Summary; One minute you're sitting on the couch watching a movie with your best friend and the next, you're face down with one of his hands on the back of your neck and the other routinely connecting with your ass.

Minors do NOT interact, which means liking/reblogging/commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.

-2024 Masterlist-

A/N- This is entirely dedicated to my darling JiJi @ourdawnishotterthanourday , hope you like it, sweetheart 😇 would not have happened without you 😘 💖

If someone were to ask you how it started, you really could not give them an answer. Even as someone involved, you really don't know how you got to this point. You haven't even had any alcohol, you're completely sober but one minute you're sitting on the couch watching a movie with your best friend and the next, you're face down with one of his hands on the back of your neck and the other routinely connecting with your ass.

"That's it, baby, you're being so good for me," Mingyu coos, stopping his borderline harsh spanks to rub a soothing hand over the latest area of impact. All while you're panting and sniffling into the pillow, both hands balled up in the material and mind completely fucking empty. "Are you going to stop talking back now? Going to be my good girl, hm?" You can't even manage to respond, just make some kind of garbled whine in response. Mingyu chuckles lowly and slowly, so fucking slowly leans over you from where he's on his knees behind you. You know he doesn't need to press against you, he's so much fucking bigger than you so he could easily spread over you without pressing his cock against your ass but you feel it and it only makes everything so much worse. He's hard and so fucking big against you. You have never wanted anyone more than you want him in this moment. "Turn your head, baby," Comes his soft encouragement as his right hand moves from the back of your neck to press to the armrest above your head to brace himself, while his left hand slides up from your ass, dragging his heavy touch along the side of your torso and over the back of your shoulder until he can get a grip on your jaw. "Come on," He murmurs, tightening his touch and tugging. You let him turn your face out of the pillow to the side, you can just about make out his smirking features hovering over you. "That's my girl."

"Gyu," You manage, sounding so wrecked already and he hasn't even gotten truly started.

"I know, baby, I know." He hums, adjusting his hold on your jaw to brush his middle finger over the slight opening of your lips. Without thought, you open wider and allow him to slide his finger into your mouth. "Look at you; so ruined already, sweetheart and I haven't even touched you." He chuckles, it's a little mean-sounding, condescending. It makes you whine needily and arch back against him. He licks his lips and presses down on your tongue while rolling his hips against you in return. "That what you want, princess? Want my cock in your desperate little pussy, hm? Bet you're already fucking soaked, huh? Gonna drown my cock, aren't you, baby?" You nod dumbly, eyes fluttering closed as he adjusts his position behind you so that the next harsh grind of his hips has his cock rolling over your clit through the material on both of your bodies. "Fuck, I can feel you, you know? Filthy girl is soaking me through both of our shorts. Are you that desperate for my cock?"

"Gyu," It's not very clear at all, what with his finger still in your mouth and massaging over your tongue teasingly. Not that you care, your head is in the clouds. Actually, your head is so fucking past the clouds you're lightyears away. You really don't care if your attempt at his name is clear, so long as he understands the desperate tone behind it.

He does and lets out another one of those low condescending chuckles. "Is that supposed to be my name?" He teases, leaning down on his left elbow to support his weight without removing his finger from your mouth, in fact, he adds his index finger in beside the first and presses them both down firmly on the muscle. He smirks as he notices the drool spilling from your parted lips onto the pillow under your head. He couldn't see that particular detail from his previous position. It makes his cock jump with interest. "Oh look at you, sweetheart, you're making such a fucking mess from both holes, drooling everywhere." You haven't noticed that he has moved his right hand off the armrest until you feel it at the waistband of your shorts. "Should I take these down, princess?" You nod rapidly and wiggle a little. "Okay, okay," He huffs a laugh and grabs the waistband of both your shorts and panties at once to tug them down your ass and thighs and leave them bunched around your knees.

There's a moment when nothing more happens, Mingyu just watches your face with more restraint than you personally would have in this moment if the roles were reversed. And then, to your genuine surprise, his right hand comes down, right between your thighs. There's a very wet-sounding connection over your pussy and your eyes fly wide as you shriek in shock. It wasn't a very harsh slap at all, more like Mingyu testing the waters as his eyes remain on you. When your eyes dart to him, he smirks and taps against your pussy a few times as his hand is still resting there.

"I knew you'd like that." He taunts. "Filthy little girl likes having her pussy slapped, huh?" To prove his point, he pulls his hand back and brings it down, this time a little closer and harsher, connecting his fingers firmly with your clit and sending a shock of sharp pleasure through your body. You jerk involuntarily and keen while your left hand flails out and grips his wrist by your face to try and ground yourself. He lets you, his smirk growing bigger, cockier.

With every slap against your throbbing pussy, you feel yourself get wetter, dripping out over his hand and down your thighs. The couch is probably getting soaked under you but you're too far gone to give a fuck.

"If I knew you were this much of a little slut, I'd have played with this pussy ages ago," Mingyu mutters when he finally stops his pleasurable attack and instead starts to slide his fingers up and down over your sopping folds. Without warning, the tips of his middle and ring finger catch on your hole before sliding in. You're so fucking wet that he doesn't hesitate to sheath his two fingers in you right down to the knuckles. "Oh, good fucking girl," He groans lowly. "So wet for me, huh, baby, taking my fingers like they're nothing." He works his fingers in you for a moment, just languidly stretching and twisting them without pulling them out. "Think you can take another for me, princess?" You nod, whining a little in need and pushing your hips back against his hand. "Stay still." He warns. "I'll fuck you how I want, you don't get a fucking say in it, understand?" You nod again quickly and fall still to allow him to do whatever he wants. "Good girl."

It's torture, the way Mingyu slowly drags his two fingers right out to the tips to add his index finger to the mix before sliding the three in together. Your eyes flutter close at the pressure, the extra finger adding enough stretch against your hole to make your breath stutter, so you don't notice the way Mingyu's expression turns lax as he feels your walls pressing against his fingers, sucking them in and making him wish he already has his cock buried in your pussy. But he can't. Mingyu knows he's big, borderline ridiculously big, honestly, so he can't rush this. Needs to get you all stretched and ready before he buries his thick cock in you and fills you with his cum.

So Mingyu slowly works you open on three fingers, moving at such a pace both to be careful and to tease you. He can feel you sporadically squeezing down around his fingers and your hips twitching with the urge to move and force him to speed up, but you stay still.

You're being so fucking good for him, such a good fucking girl that he can't keep it up for as long as he initially planned. You've entirely soaked his hand and don't seem to have any issue at all when he slightly spreads his fingers inside you so he figures you're ready.

When the two fingers in your mouth start to retreat, you panic and open your eyes while gripping his wrist tighter to pull him back. Mingyu watches slack-jawed as you suck his fingers back in with a moan, tongue swirling and cheeks hollowing slightly. "Fuck, baby, bet you'd love my cock in that dirty mouth right now, wouldn't you?" You blink at him, eyes so glazed and heavy giving away how truly gone you are. He groans a little. Minutely you shake your head. "No? No what?" You suck on his fingers a little harder, reminding him of his own words. "Oh, you don't want my cock in this hole?" He presses down on your tongue harshly making you moan. "Where do you want it then, sweetheart? Gonna tell me where you want my cock?" You don't speak, you can't, even if his fingers weren't filling your mouth, you're already too fucked out to speak but you have enough control over the rest of your body. Mingyu swears colourfully when you squeeze your pussy around his fingers, clamping down in answer to his question. "You want my cock in your pussy, huh?" He abruptly pulls his fingers from your mouth and starts to straighten up. "You're gonna fucking get it, princess."

Having his hand moving so suddenly away from your face has you panicking naturally, not quite sure what's going on in your fuzzy headspace so you yelp and grip his wrist to try and keep him near to you. Keep you grounded.

Mingyu pauses his retreat and leans over to kiss your head. "It's okay, baby, I'm not leaving. I'm going to fuck you now, okay?" You blink when he pulls back enough to peer at you and meet your gaze. "Is that okay, sweetheart? Your Gyu is going to fill you up, hm?" The way you blink at him is so cute and innocent that he can't help but smile softly at you and lean back in to press a kiss to your temple. "Give me your hand, princess," He encourages, trying to wiggle his wrist from your hold without upsetting you. Slowly, you release your grip and let him take your hand into his. "Good girl."

Mingyu places one more little kiss, on the apple of your cheek this time, before he's straightening up to his full height on his knees behind you while carefully manoeuvring your left arm backwards in a way that won't hurt. He watches your response as he presses the back of your hand to your lower back, you don't react and just let him do it while your fingers wiggle a little until his palm is against yours and you can wrap your fingers around his hand. It's cute, he thinks, how you're searching for the comfort of his hold right now when he's about to fuck you until you forget your own name.

His attention turns down to where his fingers are still buried in you, not moving but still there. The little fond smile immediately slips off of his face at the sight of your pussy stretching around his fingers. "Fuck," He whispers lowly and adjusts his position a little to get a better view as he slowly drags his fingers out. He licks his lips then lifts his hand to his mouth to lap at your flavour coating his skin. A low moan rumbles from his chest. "Gonna eat this pussy later, once I've filled you up, gonna make you cum all over my tongue, baby."

With his hand still mostly wet, he reaches down to shove his shorts and boxers down enough to free his cock. You feel it against the bare skin of your ass, he feels so hot and heavy and you want him in you so fucking much. You squeeze down against nothing and Mingyu notices, watching the way more slick dribbles out of your constricting hole.

"Fuck, baby, you're desperate for something in this dripping pussy, huh," He taunts, voice low as he places his hand over the bottom of your ass, in the perfect place that he can pull you open for his eyes and slip his thumb into you. You whimper a little, it's nowhere near what you need. Mingyu chuckles as he feels you trying to clamp down around his thumb and get more friction. "Oh, baby, that's not going to work." He coos and pulls against your walls slightly to spread your hole.

Nobody has ever done that to you before. It feels kind of degrading but you find that you're not opposed. You push back against him. Instantly, he pulls his hand back and then brings it down to connect with the swell of your bare asscheek hard enough to immediately leave a red mark. You shriek and flail a little, though push right back against his touch.

Mingyu laughs mockingly. "Such a desperate little slut, all for me huh?" He grips his cock and directs it to thunk the head against your clit making your hips jerk as you whine. "Bet you'd let me do whatever the fuck I want to you, right, baby? So long as you get this cock in your pussy," As if proving a point, he spits, right on your pussy where his cock is teasing you. You moan making him laugh again. Though this time he sounds more pleased than teasing. "Oh, I'm going to enjoy ruining you tonight, baby, and then tomorrow, I'm going to do it all over again. Gonna keep fucking you until you can't take a fucking step without thinking of my cock."

And then he starts to push his length into you. He doesn't rush it but he's not going slow. It feels both too fast and too slow as his thick cock gradually splits you open, bigger than his fingers enough that you still feel every fucking inch of him.

When his hips are flush against your ass, Mingyu stops there with his eyes closed tight enough to crinkle his brows, head dropped down and mouth open wide while he tries to ground himself. You feel so fucking good wrapped around his cock. All hot and wet and tight in the best way. It's driving him fucking crazy. He knows he will not last long at all.

You're not faring much better yourself either. You've never orgasmed from penetration alone but you feel so fucking close right now that it genuinely wouldn't surprise you if you do cum the second he moves.

"You okay, baby?" Mingyu asks carefully after almost a full minute of breathing his climax away. He soothes his right hand over your hip and up to your waist then back down to hold you again, his thumb running over your heated skin gently. It takes you a few seconds to hum in confirmation and nod a little. Mingyu smiles at the sight of your closed eyes and open mouth. You look so blissed out and he hasn't even fucked you, hasn't even made you cum yet. He knows you're going to look fucking beautiful cumming on his cock. "Are you ready for me to move?" You respond quicker this time, a desperate tinge to the nod making him laugh softly, amused and fond. "Okay, baby, brace against the armrest for me, hm?" Blindly, you remove your right hand from the pillow to reach the few inches above you and press your palm flat to the armrest. "That's my good girl." He praises then slowly starts to pull his hips back. It's half to tease and half for him to check that the slightest bit of friction on his cock isn't going to make him bust then and there. It doesn't, but he can feel the pressure gathering all the same in his body so he knows he's going to cum very very soon.

So when Mingyu thrusts back into you, it's hard and quick and he doesn't stop there. Immediately he's drawing his hips back and repeating the action with low moans. And all you can do is gasp and moan and try to grip his hand and the armrest for dear life as he fucks into you almost animalistically. Like there's only one thing on his mind and he doesn't give a fuck if he bruises you to get it. Honestly, you don't care either, you'd probably even welcome the marks on your skin. But you can't think of that right now, can't think of anything but his cock pummelling your walls and dragging rapidly across all the most deliciously sensitive spots inside of you.

"Fuck," He manages to choke out as he feels you getting tighter and tighter, it makes his own orgasm rush closer to the surface. "Baby, cum, fucking cum right fucking now." He demands roughly, leaning forward enough that he can reach around with his right hand. All it takes is a little harsh tap on your clit and you clamp down.

The orgasm hits you so powerfully that you almost scream his name as you gush around his length. Mingyu head tips back while he groans deeply with his eyes closed and presses his hips tight up against you, emptying into you with your walls pulsating around his cock to draw every drop of cum out.

For a handful of minutes, you both just try to catch your breath, Mingyu still pressed up against you and face tilted back to the ceiling, mouth open and chest finally no longer heaving so desperately. With his lungs no longer screaming for oxygen, Mingyu dops his head forward and opens his eyes to look down at you. For a second, he thinks you've fallen asleep, your face is slack, eyes closed and mouth parted a little, but when he draws his hips back to let his soft length slip out of you, you wince showing that you're still awake.

"Did so good for me, sweetheart." He hums, sitting back on his heels and gently lets go of your hand. You let him and allow your arm to flop back down to your side, too sated and exhausted to care about the ache in your shoulder and elbow. Mingyu's hands both run over the backs of your thighs and your ass as he watches his cum trickle out of your hole. "So good," He breathes out then grips your ass to spread you open for him to lean in and lick up the mix of your arousal leaking from your hole. You squeak in surprise and jerk. "Shh, shh, baby, it's okay, let Gyu lean you up, hm? I told you I want to eat your pussy after I've filled you."

Honestly, if you weren't so fucked dumb, you'd probably push him away due to sensitivity but you can't really move and his tongue is surprisingly gentle considering how rough he fucked you. So you just sigh softly and remain as still as you can when every pass of his tongue over your clit makes your hips twitch.

"Mm, good, good girl, just like that, that's my girl." He encourages you in between licks and kisses against your heated, sensitive skin. "Just a little more, hm," You hum vaguely in response, agreeing if you're not entirely sure what you're agreeing to. There's probably very little you wouldn't agree to where Mingyu is concerned. You just never expected him to find that out.

Just like he opened you up, Mingyu takes his time and goes slow and steady as he licks and slurps at you, even when he slides a finger in you to tease his cum out, he's in no rush.

It doesn't really register in your mind just how good it feels, you're moaning softly, yes but you don't really register that either. It's kind of soothing, his meticulous thorough actions. And then he's swallowed down the last of his cum and his finger is joined by another and he's curling them downwards. Brushing over your g-spot and making you gasp with every pass.

Suddenly, you realise how tight that ball in your lower belly has gotten and the pressure building even lower. You want to warn him but you can't speak. Mingyu's now rubbing against that very specific spot of your walls, still slow and gentle about it, but with enough pressure and insistence that you're being pulled towards another powerful orgasm. It already feels so different from the first, like it's in your whole body, but just as powerful.

"Gyu," You manage the first word you've spoken in what feels like fucking hours. Just a broken soft little gasp of his name. It makes him moan against you, the vibrations travelling through his lips pressed against your clit and sending you over. The orgasm hits you a second before you feel that pressure burst. Mingyu moans louder than you as you squirt over his face and hand before he's desperately trying to swallow every drop of it down.

As much as Mingyu would happily dedicate his life to eating your pussy, he can tell you really aren't able to handle that right now, so when he's sure your orgasm has ebbed, he gently removes his fingers from you. He takes another couple of seconds to pass his tongue over you and slurp up the last drops he can, then leans back.

It's clear you both need a shower, or a bath, something but also that you are incapable of doing either. Sure, Mingyu could physically hold you up safely in the water, at least normally he'd be able to but right now? You're not the only one with weakened thighs from a toe-curling orgasm. He's very certain he hasn't cum that hard in a long time.

Carefully, Mingyu tugs your panties and shorts back up onto your hips and then fixes his own clothes before he shuffles back enough to give you space when he tugs your thighs out. You flop rather ungracefully stomach down onto the couch making him chuckle softly before he crawls over and nudges you onto your right side with your back to the back of the couch. "Hey, baby," He greets softly, laying down on his left and tucking his arm under your head so you're resting on his bicep and his head is on his own hand when he bends his arm back to himself. He winds his right arm around your waist and places a kiss on your head. "You're already mostly there, but let's nap, hm, sweetheart? And when we wake, we'll get some food and talk. But now, sleep." You softly grunt in response, a sleepy confirmation of words that don't even register. He chuckles and presses another kiss to your head before closing his eyes, more than ready to get some much-needed sleep.

A/N- I just...idek what to say about this, this is very different to my usual style, jumping right into porn and the degradation? like??? gonna go question my sanity let me know what you think & reblog if you liked it!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for ruining my cousin's birthday party?

Please read the whole thing before making a judgement.

Real names not used.

So I (25M) bought a nintendo switch for my younger sister Sara (16F) for her birthday. However, mom decided that Sara would be sharing her birthday party with our cousin Cody (12M) as a celebration for him just recovering from having cancer. Mom had also said that it would be family only so Sara was not allowed to have her friends over for her 16th birthday. She was of course upset over that because she had plans on what she wanted to do with her friends. But Aunt (Karen) had told her not to be selfish about it because "you see your friends every day at school."

The rest of our relatives who had been invited hadn't been prepared for it to be a celebration for Cody as well, so none of them had gotten anything for him. Karen decided that it would be fair if Cody got to choose some of the gifts for himself. Of course as soon as he saw Sara open the wrapped up Switch, he had snatched it saying that it was his now. Sara was upset about that because she didn't think it was fair to let him do that, but the rest of our aunts and uncles scolded her for being selfish and being mean to "poor Cody". And "Cody has been sick, just let him have this. He deserves it. You are being greedy for wanting it."

Sara locked herself in her room for the rest of the party and didn't even come out for the cake. She only came out after everyone had left. Her eyes were puffy from crying and it was obvious that she did not have a good birthday because of everything. If anything, the party had been more about Cody while she had just been shoved to the side.

Fast forward a few months to the day of Cody's birthday. Aunt planned a big party for the day. All of Cody's friends were invited along with all our family. Sara refused to go and planned to go hang out with friends instead, but she was forced to go in the end because other relatives were calling her selfish and cruel for not wanting to celebrate Cody's birthday. She said she would only be there for an hour before leaving, and I said I would drive her home.

Aunt and Cody had gone out to buy the cake, so I went to their home early. Luckily for me, Uncle (Tony) was home. He hadn't been there for Sara's birthday party because he had been away for a business trip. He had let me inside when he saw me and I told him what had happened at Sara's birthday. Apparently he hadn't know what had happened. I asked him if they kept the box for the Switch, and he had said yes.

Tony had not stopped me when I packed the Switch back into its box (I removed the game that was in it and put that back in its case). He didn't stop me when I took the packed up Switch out to my car. He said that I was allowed to have it, so I did. I took it back to the store I bought it from and returned it. Luckily, it was still within the return window, so I was able to return it. I bought a few new Switch games for Sara (Some of her friends had banded together and gotten her a Switch). I never went back to Cody's house after that. Instead, I stayed at home with Sara because our parents relented and let her just stay home instead. I played games with her while our parents were gone.

Hours later, Mom and Dad come home bringing Karen with them. Karen was livid. She screamed that I ruined Cody's birthday party by stealing his Switch and that we must hate him for being sick. She knew I had been at the house because the doorbell ring showed I had been there. Apparently they had planned party games that would revolve around the Switch so all of Cody's friends had been disappointed when there was nothing to play. Karen screamed about how Cody had been crying and that it was not right to make the birthday boy cry. I pointed out that they had made Sara cry on her birthday. And Karen said "Sara shouldn't be making a big deal out of it, she is being childish for crying over a game system that she doesn't need. Cody is still a child, and you are giving him a bad childhood."

Karen decided that she would be taking Sara's Switch and giving it back to Cody and that she had no right to be taking Cody's things. Sara argued with her saying that it was her Switch that her friends gave her, but Karen screamed that she was just making excuses to be a thief and "you would probably be happy if Cody died, wouldn't you?" Mom and Dad had made her leave, but Karen has been blowing up our phones since then calling us (but mainly me and Sara) assholes for ruining Cody's birthday.

Yeah I know that taking the Switch back was mean, but I don't like how Cody just has to be the center of attention for everything. Sara's birthday was not the first time he got all attention when the party had been for someone else, but those are stories for another time.

AITA for ruining his birthday?

What are these acronyms?

[nicolinocolino]

@wolfstarmicrofic | May prompt #3: love confession | word count: 882

“I dare us—“

Remus’s stomach swoops.

“—to drink this,” Sirius punctuates by setting a delicate glass vial of clear liquid onto the table between them.

“Veritaserum?” Remus asks. Dizziness overtakes him.

A spontaneous game of truth or dare in the Gryffindor common room ended moments ago with Lily daring James to go to bed. It earned laughs all around, although James took it as a euphemism instead of his right cue to leave her alone. It left him with a mouth hexed shut.

Now, with the stragglers headed to their dorms, Sirius and Remus are the only two left.

Sirius looks smug. “Brewed it myself.”

“Why?”

“Just to see if I could.”

They lock eyes with a long, dangerously charged glare.

“Okay,” Remus agrees, his rare Gryffindor courage taking over.

Sirius throws him a wicked grin that has him second guessing.

Remus drinks the potion first, just a sip to coat his tongue, then passes it to Sirius who does not break eye contact when pressing the vial to his lips.

“Is it working?” Sirius asks.

“Yes.” The truth leaves Remus immediately. This will be tricky.

Sirius leans forward, elbows on his knees, chin in his hands. Ringed fingers cradle his face. “You go first,” he decides.

Remus swallows. He’s strung up like a kite. “All right. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Why did you really brew the Veritaserum?”

“To move this along.” Sirius waves his hand dramatically in the air between them.

“This?”

“Us.”

Remus notices the first hitch he thinks he’s ever seen in Sirius Black’s throat, as if Sirius himself is startled by how reckless the truth feels coming up with no control.

“Truth or dare?” Sirius continues before Remus can respond.

“Dare,” Remus chooses, afraid.

“Really?” Sirius questions him. He sounds annoyed. “Fine then. I dare you to kiss me.”

The space between them shrinks. Sirius, on the opposite couch, still has his chin in his hands. His smile is sly and his movements coltish, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. Having fun, even.

Remus does not move.

“What? Don’t want to?”

“No, I want to,” Remus confesses, then groans. “Don’t do that, Pads.”

“Do what?”

“Cheat.”

Sirius rolls his eyes. “Are you going to play or not, Moony?”

Remus stands up, crosses the distance, and sits next to Sirius on the opposite couch. He can feel his heart beat behind his teeth it’s so fervid; his hand shakes as he gently cups Sirius’s cheek. It’s difficult to think of anything more anxiety inducing than the moments before his transformation every full moon, but this comes awfully close.

“Well, Moons?” Sirius repeats in a whisper. His grey eyes bounce between Remus’s, wide and hopeful.

“Yes, I’ll play.” Remus tucks a strand of Sirius’s hair behind his ear and leans in.

Their lips barely meet before Sirius responds with earnest, smile blooming. Remus’s fingers drift back to comb through curls, tugging slightly. It’s rapacious. Sirius gasps and laughs. Remus can’t do this for much longer before the point of no return will ruin him forever.

“Truth or dare?” Remus pants, pulling away with a wild expression.

“Truth,” Sirius chooses. His lips are shiny, eyes dark. Remus wants to devour him.

“Am I a good kisser?”

“Yes. That was the best kiss of my life.”

Remus has to put some space between them soon before that point of no return opens up like a black chasm and becomes an inescapable void. He gets up quickly, awkwardly, and goes back to the opposite couch. The fire in the fireplace gives a sharp, crackled pop.

Sirius looks disappointed, rejected, almost angry. “Truth or dare?” He snaps.

“Dare,” Remus chooses again.

Sirius sets his jaw tight, exasperated. “I dare you to tell me how you really feel about me.”

Remus takes a deep breath. “I’m in love with you,” he whispers, the truth ringing in his ears after he says it. He hides his hot face in his hands and lets out a strangled, muffled scream. “You clever git. That’s cheating. Merlin, you really are bold tonight.” He risks a peek through his fingers at Sirius opposite him. Face unreadable, the weak flames of the fireplace dancing golden and scarlet across his face.

“Now ask me,” Sirius says softly.

“What?”

“Ask me,” he repeats. “The same.”

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

Remus hesitates. “How do you really feel about me?”

“I’m in love with you too,” Sirius is saying, already halfway off the couch, approaching Remus, tucking in next to him on his knees and grabbing his face with force, kissing him for the second time that night.

Love and hunger and relief and joy. And a little bit of panic. They pull at each other, kiss like they can’t get enough.

Remus breaks away. “For how long?” Veritaserum still coursing through them, he will milk the powerful truth potion for all it’s worth.

Sirius does not let their lips be apart for very long. “Moons,” he says through an open mouth. “It’s been all year.”

Remus melts.

“And you?” Sirius continues. “How long?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember,” Remus confesses.

Sirius slides a hand down Remus’s chest. He feels how heavy and quick it beats under his palm.

“It’s been so long, I don’t remember,” Remus repeats.

It must be the truth.

[xxsabitoxx]

Fusiguro Toji NSFW A-Z

Part of my 20k follower celebration (past due)

Warnings: if it isn’t abundantly clear, this is smut :)

A/N: in honor of hitting 20k followers a while back, I’m going to be posting 10 NSFW alphabets for JJK men — scheduled post 12 :)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Toji can go one of two ways after sex… either he’s snoring before you can even find the strength to push yourself into a sitting position or he’s already up and getting things to clean you. His aftercare depends wholeheartedly on how much he likes you to be honest. If you’re just a hookup, don’t expect anything from him in return. But if you’re together, he has feelings for you? He’ll make sure you’re cleaned up and comfortable and even ask if you want pain meds because he’s sure you’ll be sore in the morning if you don’t take anything now. He cares, as gruff as he can be, he does care and wants to make sure you’re good after. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Toji is an ass man all the way, I’m sorry I don’t make the rules. He loves you ass, he loves to hold it, squeeze it, smack it, the whole nine yards. He loves how it looks when he fucks you, how it recoils and jiggles every time his hips slam into it. He loves how it looks in cute underwear and tight pants, he loves how it feels when you sit on his lap or grind against his cock. He’s shameless in his love for your ass, often sliding his hand in your back pocket when you’re in public… and if you don’t have a back pocket he’s just going to grab your ass and hold it. 

On himself, Toji is quite proud of all of his body, he worked pretty hard on it. He’s buff, broad, built, and has a slutty little waist. Though he has to admit, he’s pretty fond of his shoulders and biceps. The sheer size of them is enough to have men and women looking twice as you two walk pass. They’re huge, covered in muscles, and way too tempting to touch… he knows you love them too. Especially with the way you cling to them as he fucks you, the way your nails rake down them as he nearly forces you up the bed with his thrusts.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Toji is fucking filthy, he will cum where ever you allow him to and he will make sure to ruin you thoroughly. He is partial to coming on your ass, pulling out during doggy to paint your lower back and ass in his pearly white cum before plunging back into your tight heat because he never goes down after one load. He’ll creampie you if you ask him to, but he needs to make sure you’re on proper preventative medication if you’re able to get pregnant. He also likes coming on your chest and face but damn is he into coming on your ass and back. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

This man has a scent kink… yeah. He loves the way you smell… yeah sure the perfume or cologne is nice and the body lotion smells good but… he loves the smell of your natural musk. If you’re working out together and he gets horny because you’re teasing him by doing squats? He’ll nearly pounce on you because he knows you're sweaty. He is addicted to it, shamelessly dipping his head between your thighs and running his nose along your inner thighs, inhaling so deeply it makes you squirm because you know what he’s doing but you can’t get the words out. I’m telling you, he’s a filthy, freaky mother fucker… the dirtier the better… but not too dirty, ya know? 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Considering the man is a father, it’s safe to say that he knows what he is doing. Toji knows his way around the male and female body and he can navigate it with ease. He’s able to hit all the right places without even needing to be guided. He can tell simply from the noises you make and the expressions that cross your face. He’s able to make you cum in record time, to the point it feels like your head is spinning from the intensity and speed he was able to push you over the edge. It’s utterly fascinating and will leave you weak in the knees.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Toji is all about doggy style in any form. Either the typical on your hands and knees, or with your face pressed into the mattress below you, hands limp by your sides and back arched. Truthfully, he loves anything that lets him grab your ass, so cowgirl and reverse cowgirl are also up there for him. Toji is a sucker for face sitting, 69-ing and bending you over any surface. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He can be unintentionally funny but for the most part Toji is 100% serious during sex. Anything related to humor is usually a snarky, sarcastic, or teasing comment. He’s more into dirty talk than anything so really you won’t get a joke or laugh out of him when he’s balls deep.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s mildly unruly down there I won’t lie to you. He washes it when he showers but he doesn’t really trim it… he hasn’t since his wife passed honestly. But if he finds himself in a new relationship with someone he really cares for, he’ll take the time to clean himself up down there. 

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Toji gets kind of awkward with the romantic aspect of sex, he usually expresses it through praising you and dirty talk but that’s about it. He’s not really one to sputter out an “I love you” while he’s fucking you… he’s not really an “I love you” kind of guy in general. That’s not to say he never says it, he just has his ways of showing it more so than speaking it out loud. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Any day, any time, doesn’t matter. If he needs to get off and you aren’t present, he’s grabbing your lotion and he’s looking through videos he’s taken of the two of you fucking and he’s jerking himself off to them. You’ve come home to him mid-masturbation and teased him for it, but he gets his revenge pretty quick by pinning you to the wall or mattress and getting the both of you off opposed to lamely jerking himself with his own hand. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Dom/Sub, BDSM, spanking, choking, cock and ball torture… yeah I said it. Toji totally enjoys the pain realm of sex and is not afraid to admit it. Hell he’d go and get his nipples pierced if he didn’t think he’d pop a boner while it was happening. As mentioned above, he has a scent kink, so olfactophilia. Toji likes to gag you and be gagged, along with breathplay like I said above. He enjoys humiliating you but doesn’t like to be on the receiving end. He’s also a voyeur.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your bed. But also anywhere private or not. Toji will totally fuck you on any surface in your home, he will fuck you in your car if you have one, he’ll fuck you on public transportation and in public spaces. He does not give a fuck about where he fucks you to be honest… but his personal favorite is your bed. People may not be able to see you… but they’ll certainly hear you. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Breathing… I’m just fucking with you. Toji really likes when you do mundane things together, like cooking dinner or watching TV together (sir then care for your son–) for some reason those mundane tasks get him going. Maybe it’s because of the simplicity of those actions that allow his mind to wander, but yeah they really get him going. He also enjoys when he walks in on you in the shower or fresh out of the shower or just about to get in the shower… you naked turns him on okay? He’s a simple man with simple needs. Don’t ask him why, but something about red lipstick on your pretty lips gets him going too, he really doesn’t know why. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No age play, no daddy kink, no breeding if there is a potential it could actually work. This man is a father, he does not see the appeal in age play, nor does he like the daddy kink. He’ll totally breed you if you’re unable to get pregnant or are taking proper preventative measures but even then he’s not really fucking you with the idea of breeding you in mind, if that makes sense. 

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Oral-giving-god to be honest. Toji’s tongue is long and mobile, he knows how to use it and loves using it. He’ll spend hours below your waist pleasuring you if you let him, he uses it as a way to unwind from the stress of the day. He likes when you go down on him too of course but honestly he prefers giving rather than receiving… kinda shocking, no? 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Another man that can and will break the bed frame. Toji’s pace is naturally rough and hard, so hard that you’ll often have bruises where his hands are holding you as he thrusts into you. Not only that, if you bruise easily you’ll likely see some bruising around where his hips are meeting the back of your thighs. Bringing a whole new meaning to being unable to sit the next day. You didn’t even know something like that was possible until meeting and sleeping with Toji. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not a fan, but will never decline. He’s not one to decline your request because you’re usually pestering him while out in public, being cheeky just to get a rise out of him. He loves it, don’t get him wrong, but he really doesn’t like quickies because he knows he can’t hold back. Sure, go ahead and tease him while clothes shopping. Yeah, he’ll follow you into the dressing room and take care of your little attitude. But no, you will not be walking out of there. Rather you’ll be limping, which makes it all the more embarrassing for you. That’s his main reason for disliking quickies, because you’ll bitch and whine after (he loves it who the fuck is he kidding?) 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Toji isn’t one for experimenting, he knows what he likes and he is hesitant to stray away from that. Sure he’ll take a risk, I mean fucking you in public is already risky enough. But experiment wise? Toji isn’t really into trying new crazy things. If you whine enough and bat your lashes at him, you may just get him to cave. But overall, Toji is sticking to what he likes. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Toji has had enough practice to build his stamina. On average this man can go anywhere from 6-12 minutes and even then he doesn’t always soften after coming once. You like to joke around and call him an old man, saying he must have taken a pill for that to happen. To which he smirks and plays along. Toji can also go about 3 or 4 rounds before calling it quits because he’s tired. The man is honestly a force to be reckoned with and you learned the hard way. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He’s not against them but he’s also not for them. He doesn’t really see the appeal in them until you bring one into the bedroom and show him how versatile they can be. Toji can’t lie, he was pretty damn amused by the suction cups and vibrators. Even the “suckers” piqued his interest. He understood your interest in them after nearly torturing you for two hours with a “magic wand” vibrator… one that plugs in so you didn’t have the saving grace of the battery dying. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh he’s evil. If you didn’t get that idea from what I just said above, Toji will damn near torture you just for his own satisfaction. He’s so mean to you in bed but he’ll make sure you cum. So I guess you can’t necessarily say he’s “unfair” in that aspect. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He groans and moans but you really can’t get a breathier noise than that. He’ll curse and whisper in your ear as he fucks you, making you squirm from the varying sensations. Toji definitely won’t try and silence his noises, letting them come out as loud as they want to but that’s really it. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Toji records the two of you fucking and uploads them to pornhub for extra money. He’s careful with them though, making sure neither your face or his are present in any of the videos for the sake of anonymity. Honestly, the two of you are quite popular on the site and manage to bring in some decent checks for your “home made” tapes. You’ll spend hours reading the comments on the videos and laughing at the people getting off to the two of you. Though, somewhere amid all the creepy “Fuck them even harder” and “Bet his cock feels amazing” comments are people with genuine suggestions for new videos that you and Toji can’t help but try out. 

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

This man is hung… in my humble opinion. When soft, Toji is just shy of 6 inches when soft and when he’s hard he’s just shy of 8.4 inches. He knows he has a big cock and he’s even prouder of the fact that he knows how to use it. He’s still got his foreskin, but please ignore the stinky allegations, he at least cleans under it I swear. He’s tan and girthy with pretty veins running along his shaft and his tip is a pink/mauve color (think #c26d83 … yeah I’m going in on Toji idk)

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Wild and not at the same time. He prefers to have sex every night but he also won’t throw a hissy fit if you aren’t in the mood. He can control his needs pretty well and even then if he really wants to get off, he’ll just take a quick shower to handle his issue. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Toji can knock out in 10 seconds or 10 minutes. It depends on how rough he was with you because he’s trying to get better with aftercare. He wants to at least clean you up and make sure you’re okay before knocking out and snoring like a bear for the next eight hours. 

[ohnococo]

Love Potion | Sukuna x Reader

Sukuna shows a hidden side of himself, thanks to Uraume’s interference

❦ WC: 2.7k

❦ Warnings: Love potions/love spell, fem bodied reader (no pronouns stated, true form sukuna, heian era, light body worship (reader receiving), porn with very loose plot, vaginal sex, creampie, love confessions

Sukuna doesn’t know what’s happening to him. His limbs are heavy, his head is spinning, and he’s moving so, so slowly despite the adrenaline coursing through him and forcing his heart to stomp out a fast beat.

One moment he’s indulging in another of Uraume’s carefully prepared meals, the next he’s dragging his heavy feet through the halls, seeking out the only thing that could soothe the tightly clenched fist that pounds away inside of his chest. His lower arms hang at his sides, the upper ones groping uselessly at the walls, as if his body were warning him that every little thought that he’d buried deep in the back of his mind with all the other things that had no use to him was on the tip of his tongue, threatening to escape.

Because he knew where his body was carrying him from the moment he’d realised he was standing. He’s tread this path many times, it’s one leading to you, his favourite plaything. He treads this path when he’s hungry, looking for your body to indulge him. He treads this path when he needs another pretty thing to drape across himself as warlords and sorcerers alike bore him with their paltry offerings. He even treads this path when he feels his favour towards you is becoming too obvious, but if he has chosen to turn his attention elsewhere he will still will his large body to move silently enough to watch you through your cracked door as you preen and slumber and lie in wait for only him.

This time he knows that something has caused him to lose his thick armour of control over his mind and body alike. As his feet move against his will he wonders, had some unknown curse been sent his way, or attached itself to him upon his return? Had some sorcerer managed to apply some technique to have him acting recklessly, risking it all, and he would be left with everything he’d built ruined once he’d finished up whatever his body needed from you in this moment?

Because his body does need you. It had needed you from the moment he’d last left you, it had needed you every time he went to someone else to satisfy his hedonistic urges. But no, he thinks, he has no desire to start challenges unfitting, no desire to claim that which is not yet ready to be his by way of encroaching upon territories unavailable to even him. His only desire is you.

As he finally reaches the door to your room, it comes to him then. The drink Uraume had insisted he have alongside his meal, metallic and bitter, but able to wash sustenance down all the same. Some spell must have been put upon that drink, and it’s led him here. With all of his wondering if he was being too soft on you for his reputation’s sake, he had failed to consider he was being too soft on Uraume. Soft enough to allow them to meddle in things which did not concern them, things Sukuna often wished did not concern him too.

That’s a matter for another time though, as his head pounds with his blood’s attempts to decide where it should be sent to, because his cock was already alert, as if it were a compass pointing him in your direction. And his face and chest alike are tinted pink with a blush betraying the feelings plaguing his mind and overtaking his consideration of why and how this was all happening.

Once the door is opened, and his eyes are on you, he isn’t thinking about anything at all, he’s just letting his body do what it so badly needs to, as if he’s in a trance.

“Lord Sukuna!” You’re quick as ever, sliding off of your bed to settle onto your knees, prostrate on the floor for your Lord.

His blood rushes so quickly he can hardly hear you, but the image of you before him, in a perfect dogeza, makes his head spin. He falls to his knees in front of you, waiting for you to look at him with your adoring eyes, but you know better. You know so much when it comes to him, though with everything his body was screaming for him to do you may just find out something new.

Eventually, just as your body tenses and shivers with a chill of uncertainty about his intentions in crouching before you and watching instead of doing, as he generally did, it’s he who moves you. He lifts you by your shoulders, crawling forward on all fours and nearly toppling you backwards in a bid to take up any space dividing you. It’s unlike him to lower himself to your level, and he can see an attempt to hide your confusion at seeing him on his knees like this. You let him move you, only adding enough stiffness to your body to stay upright until you’re propping yourself up with your hands behind you. Sukuna gets low enough, in what one could mistake as a bow of his own until he’s pressing kisses to the tops of your feet.

He doesn’t know why he’s doing this now of all times, and in a manner that could almost be construed as submissive. Usually this was an action meant for highly specific occasions: when your legs are up and he’s been fucking you until you hardly know where you are or what’s happening, when he bends his head just low enough to press a kiss to the arch of your feet, eyes on you in case you come to from your sweating, drooling state of overwhelm and see the odd slip of tenderness he bides his time for.

But now, your feet were the first thing his eyes locked onto once he had hit the ground before you. So he does what his body calls for without a second thought. It’s odd, soft even, until he wraps his hand around your ankle and sits back on his haunches as he kisses at the ball of your foot. Having your leg lifted up so high forces you to lie back fully, and Sukuna is pulled to close one set of eyes with the relief of finally touching you, while the other watches how your hair splays out on the floor below. The view of your chest rising and falling quicker moves his focus to your body as he kisses at your ankle, indulging in you even as his chest screams for him to erase the remaining space between you so he can be close enough to hear your breaths over his pounding heart.

He makes a steady path of kisses up your legs, yet another distraction of desire arising as he’s torn between the call of your softly parted lips letting out gentle sighs and the smell of your heat as you become ready for him as is your duty. His hands move to grope at your body, kneading at your calves, your thighs, your hips. The way you twitch in his grasp assures him of your readiness for him to latch onto your pussy.

It’s presented so needily to him as he spreads it and sees the glistening wetness awaiting him. Being so lucky as to have Ryomen Sukuna between your legs always results in his making a vicious and unrelenting move to have you screaming from his actions until you were crying and trembling and too sore for what would surely come after. You’ve come to expect this when he dips between your thighs, and he’s come to find a hidden level of appreciation in giving it.

Then he shocks himself as much as he does you when instead, he presses a kiss to your mound, drawn in by the scent and softness of your hair more than anything. It’s gentle, chaste, and he buries his nose into the hair there, breathing deeply and trembling slightly as he releases that breath hot and heavy through his mouth. He opens wide, as if he means to finally dive in as you’d both been anticipating, but only presses his lips there and breathes you in, as if he could taste your essence just from having his mouth so near. He nuzzles at the soft hair again, before sliding his nose upwards until he’s kissing at your hip.

His path makes another diversion as he moves further and his tongue circles your belly button. It sends a shiver through you, before he’s returning to making his way up your body, scooping you off of the floor and onto his lap as he does. Kisses and touches alike are soft enough that you’re covered in goosebumps, nipples hardened and body already preparing for him to sink you down on him. Instead, he only holds you close, rocking back and forth gently as he buries his face between your breasts and slides your open robe off of your shoulders to pool on the floor behind you.

When you relax into him, sighing and cooing like he’s never experienced before, he’s overcome with an odd feeling in his chest. A tightness even more intense than before, like his lungs were failing him, like his heart was bound so tightly it had to fight to beat and keep his blood stuck in its preternatural rush. Every move you make seems to push his mind and body further out of his control, as if he were acting on instinct alone - except his instincts aren’t telling him to tear you apart and bury himself in what is his, they’re telling him to surround you and fill you and let you fill him until his senses know nothing else.

Another string knots itself around his bound heart as you lean back in his grasp, exposing your neck to him. He’s quick to bring his affections upwards to the sensitive skin, licking up your throat and sucking at the spot between your jaw and neck. He nuzzles into you there, breathing you in deep, making a groan so low and drawn out it was as if he were purring like a cat.

“Touch me.” Hearing his own voice startles him, low and breathy rather than his usual demanding growl or lilting disinterest, and you’re quick to obey as you wrap your arms around him, running your hands across his broad shoulders.

“Yes.” This he can feel himself letting loose, a hiss sent straight from his chest, then from somewhere lower as his next order comes a little more forcefully. “More.”

You run your hands along what you can reach of his upper back, as if soothing his heated skin, and everywhere your touch connects has his eyes rolling, head lolling back as he separates his face from you for the first time since his lips had connected. He feels like he needs to straighten himself to breathe properly, lifting you higher as his hips rise and his tired eyes look towards the obscured heavens.

Each inhale is laboured, each exhale that low purr, as you drag your hands up, over the back of his neck, tilting his head forward to rest on your shoulder. You run your fingers through his hair, sending shivers through him, and the sensory overload of your touch, your skin on his, your scent clouding the murky waters of his mind, trickles down to converge in his aching cock.

It finally reminds him of why his body had brought him here, and what was needed to soothe it and stop the way it screams for you. If only he could focus, but your movements continue because he hasn’t told you to stop - he can’t - and hairs stand on end as you massage at his scalp, then run your fingers back down until you’re caressing his thick neck again. You lean back in his strong arms, held up by only him as he separates your bodies for you to run your hands over his chest. Fingertips tickle at his clavicles, and his breath stutters. When your hands slide gently over his nipples, he swallows hard, and as your hands are drawn back upward he wonders if your body hears the call of his.

You trace the sides of his neck, increasing the intensity until his eyes stop rolling long enough to focus on yours. Sukuna realises that whatever you chose to do to him right now, he couldn’t stop you, or rather wouldn’t, and were he more coherent such a thought might frighten him. It doesn’t though. With his eyes locked on yours he’s gone, floating above his body, falling into yours, breathing when you breathe, blinking when you blink, until you seem to understand that for the moment you are in control.

His chest tightens further when your first act of control is to kiss him, lips soft and wet on his cheek, just below his eyes. The action is mirrored on the other side as well, a little more firmly, and then you hook one arm around the back of his neck, reaching down below to line him up with your entrance.

The Ryomen Sukuna he believes himself to truly be returns to him for a moment, as he buries himself in your warmth in one smooth motion, eyes rolling back as he does. He holds you firmly at the hips with two hands, the others retaining the new gentleness he’d been offering you as they slide over your body and feel your every muscle tensing as you squirm and adjust to the stretch of having all of him so quickly.

When you wrap your legs around him, clinging to him as tightly as you can manage, he’s wound even tighter - breath forced from his lungs as he feels as if every inch of you is connected to him. He rocks you both, not in a way that slides his cock against you, in a way that soothes you both. Until your body relaxes, melting into him fully. Your forehead pressed to his, your hands gripping and kneading at the back of his neck, dipping into his hair every so often, your eyes focused on his as if you were waiting for whatever would be set loose once the bindings on his heart snapped.

He feels like he’s floating, like every muscle in his body except for his heart were fully relaxed and carried on the current of his emotions, and it isn’t until the soft ring of your rising moans reaches his ears that he realises he’s been thrusting up into you for some time. You rock into those thrusts, clinging to him, kissing his cheeks, his nose, his forehead with soft sighing lips. As for Sukuna, he hardly knows what noises he’s making, or anything that his body is doing except for chasing the high of keeping the two of you connected wherever possible. His eyes take turns rolling or watching you reverently, letting the moment wash over him, scatter him through the current, and rebuild him anew as you clench at him.

In time - though how much time has passed he cannot say - there comes a distant echo, cutting through the haze of the sounds of your breaths and bodies colliding. It sounds very much like his own voice, though he has no clue which mouth is chanting on his behalf. He can’t focus on the words, not that he needs to, as the tightness in his chest begins to snap, little by little, forcing him to face the truth of those words as his body speaks them.

You grip him tightly enough that he can be sure it is not the mouth on his stomach speaking them, because they ring loud and clear in his mind, through the fog that had brought them forth in the first place. Then, you kiss him, and they stop, as his lips busy themselves with drinking in your moans, tangling his tongue with yours, feeling your mouth slide against his.

Then you’re saying them back, and his heart is released, beating wildly enough that it can no longer be restrained. He lets out a noise unlike him, a plea, a prayer, a wilting bellow as he releases inside of you and you squeeze and pull everything he has to offer with the intensity of your body following him through the waves.

You repeat it back to him again, breathlessly, and each utterance waves away the fog in his brain until his own response is the clearest thought he’s had since that drink had passed his lips.

“I love you.”

banners by @cafekitsune

[wlntrsldler]

heartless | luke castellan

MDNI!!!!!!

fuckboy! luke (kinda) but also kind of loser!luke a little bit. enemies to lovers (more of sexual tension really); not canon, no betrayal, and pokes fun of aphrodite girls but yk i love them, this is just for the plot. ares!reader x luke castellan.

i. never need a bitch, i'm what a bitch need, tryna find the one that can fix me; i've been dodging death in the six-speed.

there were many things about being a half-blood that luke hated. having a deadbeat father ranks highly on the list, obviously, and the lack of exposure to the real world was up there, too. he ran away from camp once during the year when there weren’t many kids around. it was right after his eighteenth birthday when he thought that his life would magically change for the better now that he beat the odds (sue him for being hopeful), but when the clock hit midnight and he was still stuck on his cramped, cot in the corner of the hermes cabin, he decided enough was enough. 

he did his final cabin checks and left camp after, wandering aimlessly until he found the train station to take him straight to the city. he hopped over the turnstile and squeezed himself into the crowded subway car. the first thing that struck luke was how different each group of people was from each other. in one corner, there were businessmen in itchy suits, trying to check out the group of girls across from them, clearly dressed for a night out. luke scoffed at them, smirking to himself when one of the men flushed in embarrassment at the fact that luke caught him. 

what a fucking loser, luke thought. 

there was a girl around luke’s age, sneaking glances at him. she was pretty; blonde, pouty-lipped, and definitely interested. at this point, luke hadn’t been experienced. other than the aphrodite girls flirting with him and the occasional hazed and rushed makeout sessions during the campfires, luke hadn’t done anything with anyone. but if he can make the daughters of the goddess of love blush, surely it couldn’t be that difficult to make a mortal fall under his charm too. 

he was right. 

he shot her one of his signature smirks, feeling a sense of pride bloom in his chest when she had to grab onto the pole in front of her to keep steady. luke adjusted the navy sweater he had on, tugging on the collar a bit to show off a little skin. his silver necklace sat nicely on his neck and he watched subway girl’s eyes rake over his body. luke bit his bottom lip, motioning for the girl to take the empty seat beside him. her eyes widened, but she did what she was told. 

unfortunately, reality caught up with him quickly when a hellhound found him as he was exiting the subway car with the pretty girl (jessie? jane? janet? he doesn’t remember.) around his arm. luke castellan was a lot of things, but a killer wasn’t one of them, so he made some stupid excuse to the girl about why he had to leave just so he could keep her safe. (it killed him to do it. he’s a teenage boy. he has needs.) the girl walked away, upset, huffing to her friends about how he wasted her time and got her hopes up. luke just rolled his eyes and dislodged his small knife from his pocket sitting beside his half-smoked cigarette box, ready to take on the hellhound. 

“you couldn’t wait ‘til i at least got to second base?” luke cringed, partly at himself for talking to the hellhound like it could talk back to him. “had to show up right now, huh, buddy?” 

he received a growl in return. 

the fight wasn’t too terrible, but after the hellhound whimpered, walking away in defeat, luke was too tired to continue his exploration of the real world. he hopped on the train back to camp, clutching the scratch the hellhound left on him. his (only nice piece of clothing) navy sweater was ruined. the thread was falling apart where the hellhound dug its claws in and it was stained with his blood. he would’ve fought better and avoided the injury if his balls weren’t fucking blue. 

luke closed his eyes, breathing heavily. even though it was only for a few minutes, the idea of being a regular teenager, flirting with girls, going to clubs, drinking cheap tequila from a plastic bottle, was something luke yearned for. he only got to experience a fraction of it. he wanted to experience it more, preferably without testing death each time. 

the older kids heard of luke’s adventure when they saw the counselor walking into the apollo cabin the following morning to get his wounds treated. he made a note to never tell chris anything again because the boy couldn’t keep his mouth shut if he tried. by lunch, the entire camp, including chiron and mr. d, heard about luke’s unplanned visit to the city and his interaction with one of hades’ guards. 

“luke.” 

he turned around, eyebrows furrowed, then raised in surprise. in front of him were three aphrodite girls, pouting at him. he crossed his arms across his chest, smirking, “what’s up, gorgeous?” 

“heard you went looking for some fun last night.” 

“are we not good enough for you, luke?” 

“why would you go looking for better when you have the best right here in camp?” 

luke wanted to laugh. the aphrodite girls were always so bold with their words, but when it came down to the wire, they would never want to disappoint their mom by being with the golden boy-turned-teenage dirtbag. he respected it, though. their allegiance to their mom was admirable. if aphrodite was his godly parent and she gave him the power to always be attractive, he didn’t think he’d do anything to piss her off either. 

“why do you think i came back?” luke flirted, running a hand through his curls, “realized there was nobody like you.” 

the three girls blushed and giggled, even if none of them knew who his comment was actually directed toward. they waved goodbye to him, and he watched them walk away, admiring the view. 

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

luke couldn’t stop his lips from quirking upwards at the sound of your voice, “what now, y/n?” 

you and luke had been at each other’s throats since you first got to camp half-blood. you, as the daughter of ares, one of his favorites coming only second to clarisse, pushed luke’s buttons like no other. you walked into camp and immediately saw through his boy-next-door facade and saw him for who he truly was. usually, luke would hate you for it, but now, it was hard for him not to think about shutting you up in other ways. less friendly ways, but if he had his ways, just as harsh. 

the rivalry began when you were fourteen. the title of best swordsman bounced between the two of you over the years. luke currently has the title, but it was only because he cheated; he swears he’s just better, but there’s no universe where you’d actually admit luke castellan was better than you at something. the five seconds between you being chosen to be head counselor for the ares cabin and him being chosen as the head counselor for the hermes cabin were the best five seconds of your life. it was the only time you held a higher position than him. 

luke quite enjoyed your little banter (when you weren’t around to ruin his game). it only got better when he had his huge growth spurt and you could no longer reach things when he held it up over his head. when you didn’t talk and run your mouth (usually cursing at him or cursing him), luke thought you might even be cute. he loved making you turn red, even if it was out of pure anger over his antics, but his favorite is when he gets you tongue-tied because his dirty, teenage brain makes him say something before he thinks.

“there’s no way that actually worked on them.” 

“take a look for yourself,” luke motioned to the group of girls who were now whispering and shooting heart eyes at him. “it always works.” 

“oh, get your head out your ass, castellan,” you spat. 

“spitting is not going to get you the reaction you might think,” luke smirked, eyeing you up and down. your eyes widened and you looked away from him to hide the redness of your cheeks. like that. luke licked his lips, “might actually have the opposite effect on me.” 

“you’re disgusting.” 

luke let out a full belly laugh as you walked away from him. sure, there were some pretty shitty things about camp half-blood, but there were some pretty great things there too, and messing with you is on the top of his list. 

ii. hundred models gettin' faded in the compound, tryna love me but they never get a pulse down.

“do you guys always fight like this?” 

you and luke peeled your eyes away from each other at the sound of percy’s voice. the poor boy was looking between his two mentors, torn because he had no idea who to listen to. you sighed, walking over to him. 

you placed a hand on his shoulder, “sorry, percy. luke is just… forget it, let’s just try it one more time, yeah?” 

“luke is just what?” luke asked, an eyebrow raised in a challenge. “finish your sentence, y/n. c’mon.” 

“the words i’d like to use wouldn’t be appropriate for a twelve-year-old to hear.” 

“‘m from new york, i probably heard it already,” percy shrugged, pausing. “come to think of it, i probably used it before.” 

luke let out a chuckle, patting percy on the back. “my man.” 

“can you not encourage cussing, head counselor?” 

“fine, i guess you’re just gonna have to tell me what you were going to say later. in private.” 

“castellan,” you smacked his chest. hard. you were furious with luke, but you couldn’t help but flush at his suggestive words, “don’t start.” 

percy frowned, “i don’t get it.” 

luke took mercy on you and wrapped an arm around the boy. he led percy away, promising to continue working on his sword skills later after capture the flag. before they disappeared from your view, luke made sure to turn around to shoot you a wink. you flipped him off in return. 

it wasn’t always like this between you and luke. once upon a time, your banters were innocent, like kids fighting over the last piece of candy in the jar. luke literally used to pull your hair when he was behind you in the line for food and you used to stick your foot out to trip him when he was playing tag with his siblings. 

but then, he returned from his quest. at first, you felt bad for him. he came back unable to complete it, and he was permanently scarred from it. it must’ve been difficult to have that constant reminder. after a few months, though, when his scar was almost fully healed, the whispers about how attractive luke castellan was started. luke closed himself off after his quest and spent his time doing extra training. you could lie and say that all the extra workouts didn’t do wonders for him, but nobody would believe you anyway. 

in short, luke castellan got hot. he was no longer the pesky little boy you bantered with. he got taller, broader, and dirtier. you weren’t dumb, you knew the innuendos that he would throw at you. you were in the same sex ed class as he was in. (side note: mr. d teaching teenagers about sex ed was your own personal version of hell. tartarus be damned.) somehow, luke turned into a teenage heartthrob at camp and all of a sudden, all the girls were throwing themselves at him. it made you sick, but what made you more sick, was that you understood why. 

ever since luke’s confidence skyrocketed and he leaned into his bad boy persona, there was a different charge in your banter; as if instead of trying to push your buttons, now, he was trying to get you under him. from blowing his cigarette smoke directly into your direction to all his dirty comments, luke castellan was acting like he wanted you. and surprisingly, you didn’t stop him. 

“can y’all just fuck already?” you spun around to find clarisse leaning against a tree, her spear mounted on the floor. she had a teasing smile on her lips, “maybe once you hate-fuck, you guys will get it out your systems.” 

“ew, castellan?” you sneered. your nose scrunched up in disgust, though your stomach churned at the thought of it. “never in a million years.” 

“dude, the sexual tension between you guys is insane,” she shrugged, walking over to you. “come on, sis, you can’t pretend like you don’t feel it.” 

“i feel a lot of things for luke castellan, but wanting to fuck him is not one of them.” 

you’re a liar. you knew that. clarisse knew that. but you’re thankful that your sister didn’t call you out on your bullshit. 

she laughed, “whatever you say. now, ready to train me?” 

you spun your sword around expertly, “always.” 

this week’s game of capture the flag was eventful. you lost, much to your dismay, but the results of the game were overshadowed by poseidon claiming percy as his kid. the subject of forbidden kids were a touchy subject, for obvious reasons, but you knew that it was especially hard for luke. you didn’t know thalia well, but with how often annabeth talked about her, you felt like you knew her. 

luke never talked about thalia, though. you figured it was because it was too painful for him to think about. he knew her longer than annabeth did and his memories of her were much more vivid than the young girl’s. with percy being poseidon’s kid, you knew that it was bound to bring up some unwanted memories for the hermes counselor. but what shocked you was seeing luke sitting with his siblings at the campfire instead of being surrounded by fawning girls like he usually was. whenever his team won, he would bask in the glory of the win, shotgunning smoke into the mouth of whoever was closest to him before disappearing for a bit only to come back with marks all over his neck. 

but tonight, he was sitting next to chris, a beer can in his hand, staring directly at you. the red cup in your hand filled with mysterious liquor was cold to the touch. clarisse was trying to hide the smile on her face as she watched you and luke lock eyes. she mumbled a fake excuse, running away to leave you alone while she tried to find silena. luke chugged the rest of his beer before crushing the can in his hand and walking over to you. 

you stood your ground, feet planted on the floor, with your arms folded across your chest. “no celebration tonight castellan?” 

“not unless you want to celebrate with me,” he replied. 

“shut the fuck up,” you sighed. 

luke watched as your arms pushed your tits up your chest. he couldn’t stop himself from biting his lip, watching your chest rise and fall as you took your breaths. he was almost tempted to burn his toast tomorrow morning just to thank the gods that you decided to wear a low-cut shirt tonight. your camp necklace was resting on top of your tits and he wanted to reach over and count the beads on your necklace. four, just one less than he has. 

“i love that you’re a sore loser,” he said, pulling out the cigarette that was tucked behind his ear. “makes it so easy to mess with you.” 

“‘m not a sore loser,” you argued, absentmindedly pulling out the lighter in your pocket. 

he was surprised by your actions. he knew you smoked, but you’d never smoked with him before. he pulled out a cigarette for you which you gladly took. you lit yours first then leaned over for him to light his own. luke shook his head, bringing up his index finger for you to come closer. he lit his cigarette with the burning end of yours, humming in appreciation when the nicotine hit his senses. 

“you are,” he blew out the smoke, “but it’s adorable.” 

“flirting with me isn’t gonna get you very far, castellan. you should know this by now.” 

“what, you want me to be mean to you?” luke said it teasingly, but then he saw your shoulders freeze for a millisecond. he chuckled, darkly, voice dropping an octave when he spoke again. “holy shit, you’re into that.” 

“none of your fucking business,” you shook your head, thankful that you had at least one substance already in your system to keep you from turning red. 

“it’s hot, y/n, own it,” he shrugged his shoulders, turning a bit to face the rest of the campers. all of the younger kids were off in their own world. they knew better than to hang out with the older kids at these things. he had a cocky smile on his face when he turned to you again, “i can be mean, if you want, y’know. just say the word.” 

you downed the drink, needing some sort of liquid courage if you were going to keep this conversation going. clarisse and silena were watching you and luke a few feet away and you can tell by their faces that they weren’t going to come save you from the conversation even if you begged them to. “that kind defeats the purpose, no?” 

“what do you mean?” 

you wiped the drop of liquor away from the corner of your lips, “having to ask you to be mean. you should just be mean without me asking.” 

luke’s eyes darkened. sure, he flirted with you, but you never kept up with him before. you usually tell him to fuck off and walk away, leaving him with a head full of images of your red, embarrassed face, to keep him occupied at night. “noted.” 

you shoved the empty cup into his chest, taking a puff out of your cigarette before walking away, “no need to take notes, castellan. i know you’re all talk anyway.” 

iii. 'cause i'm heartless and i'm back to my ways 'cause i'm heartless.

luke was pissed. you can tell by the way his shoulders were tense. you just disarmed him during practice, the tip of your sword resting comfortably under his jaw. the title was yours again. 

“say you surrender,” you taunted, pushing the sword just a little deeper on his skin, but not enough to cause any damage, “say you surrender and i’ll let you leave with some dignity.” 

“this doesn’t count,” he replied, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “i was distracted.” 

and he was. you took your shirt off, leaving you in a sports bra, at around the third sparring session. the sun was beating down harshly on the both of you and the lack of a breeze in the air didn’t help. your chest was glistening with sweat and you were breathing heavily. luke took his eyes away from your moves for a second to look at your figure and you took advantage of it. 

“no excuses, castellan,” you lifted his face up with your sword, “surrender.” 

“fine,” he relented. he got up from his knees when you removed the sword from his jaw, “i surrender.” 

“good.” you twirled your sword in your hand, walking away from him to grab a sip of water. your back was turned and luke couldn’t help but let his eyes trail down the curve of your spine. your muscles were defined, no doubt due to the hours of sparring you just did, and your hair cascaded perfectly down when you pulled it out of the ponytail you had it in. he wanted to wrap it around his fist and pull it. 

“fuck,” he groaned, trying to push down his hardening cock in his cargo pants. the action didn’t do anything to help. it was no use. 

“what was that?” you tossed the bottle of water on the ground as you turned to face him. your eyes widened as you took in the image in front of you. luke was staring at you, lips slightly parted, hair in disarray as if he just ran his hand through it, and his pants were tight around his dick. “luke…” 

fuck it, he thought. 

“shut up.” 

luke marched over to you, grabbing your face with a force that knocked you off balance. it was disorienting feeling his lips hungrily over yours because it felt so damn good. his hands migrated from your face down to your ass, gripping it and massaging the flesh so he could push you closer to him. you could feel his hard cock poking against your skin and you moaned at the feeling. luke wanted to bottle the sound so he could listen to it whenever he wanted to. 

he pushed you against a tree, grinding his aching hips against yours. he could feel your wetness growing against his pants. he pulled away from your lips, turning your face to the side to give himself access to your neck. he licked a stripe up your jugular, mixing his saliva with the sweat on your skin. he started his attack on your neck, nipping, sucking, licking, everywhere he could. you couldn’t help but whimper at his actions. 

against your better judgment, you pulled him away by threading your fingers through his curls. his eyes were closed, mouth agape when he knocked his forehead against yours. you tugged on the hair by the nape of his neck, “you’re not fucking me, luke.” 

“fuck, okay,” he breathed out. he was horny, but he respected your wishes. 

“not today,” you placed a chaste kiss on his lips before pulling away. his lips followed yours, but you tutted, “but you can watch me if you let me watch you.” 

“yes,” his eyes snapped open, moving away from you to give you space. 

“come here,” you walked away from him, motioning him to come to the patch of grass secluded from the training area. he followed you, hissing as he tried to adjust himself in his pants. you lay on the grass, propping yourself up on your elbows. your hand slowly trailed down to your pants before you dipped your finger inside your underwear. your back arched as you felt how wet you were from the earlier interaction with luke. 

luke sat at your feet, undoing his pants. he pulled out his cock; red, dripping, and angry. he felt his confidence rise when you moaned at the sight of it. his veiny hand was wrapped at the base of his cock, slowly pumping. his voice was broken as he spoke, “let me see you.” 

for a moment, you were vulnerable, hesitating to expose everything to him. but luke’s face showed nothing but desire and you melted under his gaze. you shimmied out of your pants, tossing them somewhere near, before opening your legs for him to see you. your fingers pulled apart your folds, showing him your slick-covered pussy. 

“prettiest fucking pussy in the world,” he groaned, watching as you circled your clit. “fucking perfect, y/n.” 

his words spurred you on. you dipped two fingers inside, mewling at the stretch. luke flicked the tip of his dick, moaning at how your fingers disappeared as you pumped them inside you. he can hear your wetness loud and clear and he wanted nothing more than to slurp it up with his tongue, but he can be patient. this can be enough for now. 

his hand moved faster on his dick, the muscles on his arm tensing with each stroke. he watched as you threw your head back in pleasure, admiring the marks he left on your skin. a feeling of possessiveness bloomed in his chest knowing that he marked you. 

“want a taste?” 

luke nodded, crawling over to your outstretched fingers while still pumping his cock. his lips hollowed to suck off your juices from your fingers, eyes closing at the sweet taste. his tongue danced between your fingers, licking them clean. you watched in awe as he hungrily sucked off your fingers. there were beads of sweat trickling down the edge of his face, his curls were sticky on his forehead, and there was a look of pure bliss on his features. 

“so sweet,” he whispered, letting your fingers go with a pop. “fuck, y/n.” 

“luke,” you panted, continuing to get yourself off. “i’m close.” 

“give it to me,” he said. his voice was nearly gone. “need it.” 

there was something about luke castellan begging you to cum for him that made your head spin. you came, hard, all over your fingers while he watched you come undone. the image of you cumming, the whisper of his name leaving your lips, was going to be burned into his memory forever. 

“i’m coming,” luke groaned, the veins in his neck popping out as he gritted his teeth. “open up.” 

you moved closer to him, leaning down with your tongue out for him. he pumped his cock until white spurts covered your pink, patient tongue. he wanted to take a picture of you right now for later. eyes closed, makeup on your face ruined, hickeys on your neck on full display while his cum coated your tongue. you were a wet dream come to life. 

luke gripped blades of grass with his other hand, trying to steady himself as he watched you swallow his load. when you opened your eyes, you opened your mouth to show him you didn’t waste a drop, and luke couldn’t do anything else but kiss you to show his appreciation. 

you had avoided luke after your training session. you didn’t know what got into you doing that with him, but one thing was for sure, the tension didn’t disappear after it. it just got worse. 

everywhere you went, you felt his eyes following your every move. he would stare at you, eyes narrowed, during classes or during meals. but he never did anything. 

until he lost at capture the flag. you skipped the celebration, opting to stay alone in the ares cabin to avoid running into luke. the whole situation left you with so many questions that you were afraid to get the answer to. you fucked yourself in front of luke. and you liked it. there hasn’t been a day since when you didn’t think about his cock and how it would feel inside of you. it was getting pitiful how often you got off thinking about him. his sounds, his face when he came, his taste. everything. 

you were getting ready for bed when you heard the door of the ares cabin slam open. you turned your head, eyes widening, when you saw luke walking towards you, kicking the door shut. he didn’t break eye contact with you as he reached the foot of your bed. 

he licked his lips, “you’re avoiding me.” 

“i’m not,” you lied, tugging your blanket up to cover yourself. “was just too tired to celebrate.” 

“bullshit,” he ripped the blanket away from your body, “you want mean, right? i can give you mean.” 

you pushed your thighs together, making him smirk.

luke got on your bed, his knees on either side of you. he pushed his head into the crook of your neck, leaving rough kisses on your skin. your hands flew up to his hair, pulling softly, “my pretty girl won’t betray me.” 

it took you a minute to realize that he wasn’t talking about you. his fingers rubbed on your clit over your pajama shorts, making you arch into him. you whimpered, “luke, please.” 

“nuh uh,” he pulled away from your neck, “you don’t get to say please, anymore. you’re gonna take my dick until i’m done.” 

luke connected your lips. his lips were relentless against yours, tongue forcing its way into your mouth. he groaned at the feeling of your hand reaching down to palm him. he grinded his hips into your hand, lips sloppily crashing against yours. luke put all his weight on one arm, using the other one to lightly wrap his fingers around your throat. he did an experimental squeeze, growing harder when you moaned in pleasure at the pressure. 

clothes were flying off both of your bodies after that. your pants drowned out the faint hum of the campers away at the campfire. luke pulled away from your lips, marking your neck again. the hickeys he left you were already fading and he hated not seeing the remnants of his time with you on your skin. he trailed the hickeys down your body, spending extra time on your plush thighs. he pried your legs open, sighing in content when your pussy welcomed his thick fingers. 

he pressed his tongue against your folds, closing his eyes at the sounds of pleasure that left your lips. his lips wrapped around your bud, sucking, until you were lifting your hips up. he placed an arm across your stomach, pressing down on you to keep you still. from where you were lying, you could only see his eyes. his eyes were boring into yours, watching your reaction to learn what you liked. when his tongue darted inside of you, touching that spongy part, your face contorted in unparalleled pressure and luke knew that he needed to keep hitting that spot. 

you were a mess under him. you’ve never came before unless it was your own doing, but you were dangerously close to the edge with how luke was eating your pussy. he was determined to have your wetness coat his tongue. he’d been dreaming of tasting you since you last let him. he’d been craving it. 

when your thighs pressed against the side of his head, he knew it was coming. he used his thumb to draw figure eights on your clit. you came with a cry, his name repeating off your lips like a mantra, like a prayer. 

luke pulled away from your pussy, wiping the wetness on his chin away with his forearm. he pumped his cock in his hand a few times, hissing at the pain of it being forgotten. 

“luke,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. you clung onto him like a lifeline. “give me a second.” 

he took in your state. all fucked out just from his tongue. his jaw ticked, “been givin’ you space for days, don’t think you deserve any more.”

“fuck!” you cried as his dick entered you. luke had to shut his eyes to keep himself from cumming. your pussy was so tight and so wet and so greedy for his cock. he pushed all the way in, stopping for a moment to catch his breath. 

“perfect fucking pussy, like i said,” luke’s voice was hoarse as he thrusted into you. his hand grabbed one of your tits, flicking the hardened bud with his fingers. he continued to snap his hips into you as he leaned down to your ear, “been thinking about fucking you dumb with my cock.” 

“been-ah- thinking about it too,” you admitted, cheeks growing red at his words. you were clawing at his back, no doubt leaving marks, “been touching myself thinking about you.” 

“looks like you’re the one who’s all talk, y/n,” he was going faster now, reveling in the sounds that your connected bodies were making with each push of his cock. reminders of your first orgasm were all over his base. “made me watch you fuck your perfect pussy, then-fuck- avoiding me.” 

“didn’t think you were serious with your words.” 

luke pulled out of you completely. you got a good look at him for the first time. his nostrils were flared, chest heaving as he pumped his cock in his hand. he made a noise, “seems like i’m not doing my job right.” 

you reached out for him, pussy tightening around nothing, “huh?” 

“you’re still being smart,” luke grabbed your hips then and turned you around. you arched your back for him, giving him a view of your ass. he rubbed his hands over the flesh, slapping it. he pushed your head down on your pillow, wrapping your messy hair around his fist. he leaned over to whisper in your ear, “told you, i wanted to fuck you dumb on my cock.” 

he thrusted into you with fervor, skin slapping as he took you from behind. luke watched as your ass bounced sinfully against him as he pushed his cock deeper into you. with this angle, he can can push into you more easily. he was on his knees, holding your hips flush against his body. the sounds you were making as his cock found your pussy were delicious. 

you were incoherent then, mumbling into your pillow, begging for him to keep going. luke wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon. when your second orgasm of the night came crashing down, you screamed luke’s name loudly. 

he came inside you, ropes of milky cum coating your gummy walls. he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily as he moved your hair away to place kisses on your back. 

when you both got dressed, luke left a lingering kiss on your raw lips. he left one last hickey on the side of your jaw, “training. tomorrow. don’t be late.” 

[starsofang]

Change of Heart

hitman!simon x f!reader / part 6

previous part

tw: gore, violence, blood, ghost makes a return ooo, please be warned! <3

When life has completely and utterly failed you, you hire a hitman to take you out, too afraid to do it yourself. Instead of killing you like you had planned, he strikes up a deal with you, and you're too stubborn to bail out.

Simon had never felt such a boiling rage to the point his blood was bubbling, ready to explode out of his body and paint the walls of your apartment a crimson red that would stain the chipped-away white with messy splatters. It simmered hotly beneath his scarred skin, sifting through his veins like wildfire and egging him into dangerous territory.

He was no saint. He killed people for a living. He took the money of pathetic, lowly people who had the coldness in their heart to request his favor in killing somebody they didn’t like. Lawyers, CEOs, big name people who ate with the silver spoon embedded in their teeth and tainted their smiles with a greedy unnerve.

So no, Simon was no saint.

But he’d certainly ruin any chances of redemption when he got his hands on the coward who’d brought you harm.

Simon didn’t need payment to seek him out. He didn’t need a stack of cash waved in his face, or a bank transfer notified on his phone.

All he needed was to see the pretty girl in tears and blood, lying broken on the floor like a toy, used and tossed aside – worthless, undeserving. His pretty girl.

You were enough to tear down the concrete walls he’d encased around himself, built with his own bare hands. You were enough to wake the flame in his soul, to remind him just what he was capable of.

Simon was tired of killing those who did nothing to him. Sure, many deserved it, but they hadn’t done anything to him. He was a mediator. A spectator. He was a part of a story as a side character, only rising from the shadows to cut that story short and end it with bloodshed and a transaction. Their pages were quipped, torn from the spine of the book with no prospect of a completed ending.

Now, the plotline had changed.

He had the upper hand in this story. He was able to rewrite it without the complications of another’s orders. And he’d be damned if he didn’t tear the man who hurt you right out of the pages.

Simon didn’t want to leave you. He knew how disoriented you were from the fists that had put you through torment – torment he wasn’t there to protect you from. You were dazed and lost, hanging on by the thin of a wire that Simon was the one desperately clinging to.

When he had patched you up and put you to bed, he waited until you succumbed to the exhaustion and fell asleep for him to strike.

He was a man on a mission. A dog off its leash. His nose flared from under his mask as if he was a damn K-9 tracking down his suspect.

He searched through the entirety of your apartment, tearing it to bits in order to find a hint, a clue. All he needed was one quick search of your phone through your blocked numbers to find what he needed.

There was no contact name. No indication of who this man could be.

But a phone number was enough, and when he texted it to Gaz with the demand of finding it out for him, it wouldn’t be long until your ex-boyfriend would be another name on a crumbling gravestone.

Gaz was quick to find him the information. No questions asked, and that’s why Simon loved working with him. He minded his own, and trusted him to complete a job alone. He was good at tracking information for Simon, good at all that he did, and he was sure as hell good at picking up on the signs that Simon was involved in something, or someone that made him bend the fabrics of reality for them.

The name left a bitter taste in Simon’s mouth.

Phillip Graves. American. Bastard with a sharp tongue and a cockiness that’ll get him killed.

Ghost could make that happen.

The man walking down the streets, prowling with a threatening cloud of smoke around him wasn’t Simon.

Simon was the one who tucked you into bed, who wiped off every dot of blood that tainted your pretty skin. He was the one who watched over you in the corners of the night, making sure you got home safe, making sure you were keeping up your end of the deal.

He was the one who you baked pastries for, and didn’t have the heart to tell you he didn’t have a sweet tooth. He stuffed his mouth full of every single crumb despite the fact, just to see you smile.

He was the one who thought you were beautiful at first glance, and didn’t have the capacity to take your money and rid the world of a human being carved like a piece of art in a mausoleum. He was selfish, and he wanted you.

The man in the reflection of every store window as he strode by was Simon no more. Simon was gone, tucked away in the back corner and replaced by the brute of a man he’d been before you.

You were Simon’s religion, his reason for salvation. He’d bow at every altar, pray to every God with his blood stained hands clasped in a plea, just to worship you – but Ghost wasn’t a religious man, and he garnered no peace from anyone. Not even you.

Simon was the one who would protect you. Ghost was the one who would kill for you.

All Ghost had on the screen of his phone besides a name, was an address. It was a temporary one, judging from how recent your ex had moved into it, and the thought of it caused his teeth to grit in annoyance.

The fucker was staying close to you, with intentions so sick it could only make Ghost’s fire burn into grueling embers. He was stalking you, tracking you down, plotting.

Ghost knew exactly what he needed to do to ensure your safety. He made a promise to you, a promise that he hadn’t vocalized but rather slipped in when he made that deal with you. It was written in small lettering, so small so you’d gloss over it and he’d be able to hide away the watchful eye he had on you.

Finding Graves’ apartment was an easy feat. He nearly laughed at how effortless it was to stalk his way up to the apartment building that was somehow even more rundown than yours. But it made sense – Graves wasn’t planning on staying for long, and he was going to flee after latching his grimy hands on you once and for all. He didn’t need a fancy apartment to stalk his claim.

On normal jobs, Ghost was discreet. He’d figure out an alternative for breaking into one’s apartment or home, one that required no curious eyes or witnesses to see. He was quiet, like a shadow moving across the walls in dark anticipation.

This time around, he found himself stomping right up the musty stairwell, boots clattering along every step that creaked beneath his weight. He was an incoming storm the way he clouded over the hallway with impending doom, rain clouds hovering over him with lightning prepared to strike at any given moment.

He didn’t knock. He didn’t wait or stall.

He kicked at the door with the heavy soles on his feet, wallowing in every crack and snap the door made under its sudden force. It withered, flying off of the hinges and slamming up against the wall as it smacked open.

The apartment was a shithole. Messy, cluttered, and uninhabited. Dust collected on every surface, furniture bare from every room, and all that was used was an old mattress with blankets to keep Graves warm from the chill of every night.

Graves stood in the aging kitchen, cooking up something that made Ghost’s nose flare. The bastard didn’t deserve to have an appetite after what he had done to you. He didn’t deserve to use his tongue, didn’t deserve to keep his teeth.

Stood like a deer in headlights, Graves quickly regained his composure, sneering at him with a mock threat made Ghost snort.

“What the fuck?” Graves shouted in a fit of anger, stumbling in the kitchen as he caught himself from the sudden surprise. His narrowed eyes stared Ghost down, taking in every inch of him.

A looming mass with a skull painted mask with eyes that could kill. Graves would be a dead heap on the floor if that was so.

“You,” Ghost spat. He walked slow and dangerous, darkened glare focused on Graves without a single intent of leaving. It was cold, piercing, full of millions of daggers that he wished could mutilate Graves in front of him. “You should’ve gotten a more secure place.”

“The fuck are you talking about? Who are you?”

Graves was tougher than he thought, Ghost had to give him that. He didn’t cower in fear, nor did he try to run like most people did. Ghost was a force to be reckoned with, and looking at him was like looking the Devil himself in the eye.

Ghost continued stalking towards, like a predator to prey, every step calculated. His boots were like hell’s bells ringing as they hefted with every step, stomping clouds of musty dust around his ankles. It was enough to have Graves leaning back, the action so small Ghost would’ve missed it if not for his keen eye and trained skill.

“You touched her,” he stated. His tone was so calm it caused unease to smother the room, suffocating the two of them in a thick cloud. “You hurt her.”

It took a second for Graves to understand, and when he did, he scowled, perfectly aligned teeth just begging to be knocked in. “You’re Simon.”

“Ghost,” he was quick to correct. “Not Simon to you.”

Graves laughed mockingly, the sound more like a scoff as it escaped his thin lips. “Oh, right. She calls you Simon. Little whore, that one is. 

Ghost stopped when he was in front of Graves. He peered down at him with a thirst for blood glimmering in his eyes, locked in on Graves’ own and burning the retinas with the flames that danced around his pupils.

“You hurt her,” Ghost repeated. “I don’t like men who hurt women. Don’t like men like you.”

Graves’ expression soured and he stared up at Ghost with a mix of confusion and offense. He was trying to read Ghost from under the mask, see what was burning in those embers of his, but he only saw rage. A calm, brewing rage that held no remorse and no sympathy for a man like Graves.

“I’m going to rip the flesh off your fucking bones and pluck every single one of those teeth out with my bare hands,” Ghost threatened, and it was only then that Graves showed a single sign of fear. His lips twitched, hands flinching at his sides as if debating on whether or not he could throw a punch at Ghost and scurry his sorry ass away.

Back to his town, far away from this shitty apartment, and far away from you.

He didn’t know Ghost never left a job unfinished. Not until he was left a bloodied, gory mess on the floor of his kitchen, face unrecognizable, tiles stained with the red he had colored your own bathroom the night before when he laid his hands on you like the weak link he was. Graves’ eyes were glossed over, lifeless, staring blankly into the pit of Ghost’s as he took each and every brutal impalement from the kitchen knife Ghost had snatched from the counter.

Ghost didn’t falter, nor did he stop until the fire in him slowed to a stop, leaving behind nothing but ash and debris. He stared down at the man who had hurt you, watched the way his blood seeped into the grout of the tiles like a sponge absorbing water.

It was a picture Ghost never wanted you to see. A side he never wanted you to take a glimpse of in fear of you running.

Ghost wasn’t religious. He didn’t worship you like Simon did. Wouldn’t get on his knees for you and beg for forgiveness for his sins.

Ghost was hungry. Starved. He’d shed the whole town’s blood for you. He’d bury every fucking soul six feet deep if it meant none of them would have a chance to hurt you.

When you woke up from the deep slumber you found yourself in, everything ached. Your body was crying for help as it twisted and stiffened when you sat up in bed.

The apartment was quiet. Cold. Simon was nowhere to be found, nor did he leave you a note when you got up to look for it. The kitchen was void of his presence, void of the banter you two had shared just nights ago when you baked for him and he sat with an admiring gaze.

Last night began to resurface, and your mind flashed you the ghostly images of Graves’ face as he stood over you, lips pulled into a menacing sneer, bitter laughter leaving his lips as he kicked and slashed every part of your body. He didn’t leave a single bit unscathed from the torment, and you felt the weight of it with the way your skin hissed when it tugged or how your nose gasped for air beneath the swelling and ache.

Bile filled your lungs as you replayed the painful memory and recalled every hit and strike he laid upon you. Recalled Simon not answering the phone, not showing up until the damage was done.

Your legs moved before your mind did, and they took you back to that very bathroom where you were nearly left for dead. The contents in your stomach were minimal, and when you emptied them out into the toilet, you were left dry heaving and begging for air. Pangs of grueling pain fluttered in your stomach, and the butterflies that once flew freely had turned into overbearing moths that were desperate to get out.

You didn’t know tears began to flow down your cheeks until they caused your open cuts and wounds to sting. They cascaded in waterfalls, bathing you in a cold, sticky sheen of despair.

Your mind was angry at Simon, but your heart longed for him. The loneliness of the bathroom as the tiles dug into your bruised knees was just an aching emphasis that he wasn’t there to fill that void, to help pick you back up like he’d been doing ever since the two of you met.

Anger you could get over. The hurt of knowing he didn’t answer your call, you could get over.

But the yearning in your heart was something that no amount of anguish could get rid of, for it filled you up like an overflowing glass, pouring and pouring over the rim until you couldn’t take it.

So you waited. And waited. You laid curled up in the same bathroom he found you in the night before, all the way up until he showed – because even if it was late, it was always.

Simon was a mucked up mess when he came ducking into your apartment the same way he left. His hands, covered in dried, cracking red, and his shoulders pulled taut with unfurling tension were the first thing you saw when he entered. His eyes had immediately searched for you, and just like before, willed himself to you like a moth to a flame when he saw you in the bathroom once again.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted softly. His voice sent warmth through your bloodstream, lighting you up from the inside and out. “What’re you doin’ in here?”

Simon crouched to your level, lifting a hand to grace it across your features before it froze up and dropped away when the sight of red reminded him of the sins etched into his skin. The sins performed by Ghost, with Simon seeking redemption.

“You weren’t here when I woke up,” you sniffled, a pathetic sound leaving your mouth, almost like a hiccup. It shattered Simon’s heart and buried a knife through the arteries.

“M’sorry sweetheart. M’here now, I promise. I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he promised, and blood be damned, he wanted to touch you, to reach out to you and cradle him in his loving light.

So he did.

You didn’t flinch away when he shoved aside his worries and placed calloused hands on each side of your face. You stilled, melting into him like a child would its mother, sinking yourself into the tranquil solace of his touch. It chased your demons away, filling you with angelic purpose.

When you allowed yourself the brief slice of heaven in the form of a man, you worried your gaze on the blood that soaked from his hands and up his tattooed arms, lacing him with a layer of damnation. Your eyes trailed up, slow and unsteady, before reaching his eyes, which were softened and filled with apologies.

“What did you do, Simon?” you asked in a whisper, and for the first time, he flinched as if you burned him.

“I took care of it,” he assured. “I handled it.”

The it being him. The him being Graves.

Simon didn’t go into the details, but he didn’t have to. Given his track record and the reason as to why the two of you met in the first place, you could assume the worst – but really, it was far from it. It was a taste of freedom.

You would no longer have to walk on eggshells, or peek around every corner. You wouldn’t have to remain bound to shackles that were never meant to be chained to you in the first place.

Simon freed you from the demon you were indebted to, and he did so without a single ounce of hesitation or regret. He’d do it all over again if it meant releasing you from hell and showing you a glimpse of heaven. He broke the contract you signed when vulnerable, and freed you from a lifetime of purgatory.

“Why did you do that?” you asked, and he smiled under his mask. You could see the faint imprint of his lips curling up on the edges, and the crows feet that wrinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Nobody hurts my pretty girl. They’ll be sorry if they do.”

My pretty girl. His pretty girl. It was a claim, one that didn’t feel like a trap that will lure you in and sink its teeth into you, but it was also a declaration of his devotion for you. It posed the option to back out, leaving you no longer bound like you were with Graves. A choice.

Your hand moved on its own accord, and it sauntered its way up Simon’s arm. Fingertips brushed along coated and marred skin, until they rested on the bottom of his mask. You heard him inhale a sharp breath, but made no move to stop you, so you continued.

Grasping on the hem of the mask that laid upon his throat, you lightly tugged it up, and up, until blond hair fell in short tufts along his forehead. The mask fell to the floor of the bathroom where you both resided, but that wasn’t what you focused on, no.

You were seeing his face for the first time, all of it. Not just his mouth where he’d nurse a cigarette, or would stuff your crummy pastries. You saw every blemish, every scar, every bit of stubble that poked from his skin. His cheekbones, high on his face, and his eyebrows, thick and unkempt yet soft and lax without a hint of daunt or upset.

The fingers that had taken off his mask with such care slowly traced along his features, grazing the plush of his lips, to the prickle along his jaw that scratched your fingertips in a way that had you smiling.

Simon was unsure why you smiled, but he offered a pleased one back, his shoulders releasing the tension that had stiffened them before.

“You’re pretty, Simon,” you complimented, and your eyes watched his lips as they parted into a laugh. Teeth, aligned and pretty, making him light up the entire room in a luminescent glow.

“Yeah?” he asked. “Thought you were the pretty girl, sweetheart.”

Your smile grew, nearly cracking the cuts littering the skin of your lips.

“Your pretty girl,” you reminded, and he gazed at you in a mix of adoration and amusement.

“My pretty girl,” he repeated.

The way he said it, so sweet and treacly, caused your mind to fuzz over with unrelenting homeliness. This was what it felt like to be loved, to be cherished, to be at home.

“Can you say it again?”

Simon beamed. “My pretty girl.”

You sucked in a breath. “Again.”

He leaned closer, his own fingers cradling the plains of your bruised face and layering the black and blue with tender touches and glimpses of a world where your skin would never feel the tortures of pain again, but rather longing and care.

“My pretty girl,” he repeated one more time, and by the last syllable, his breath was fanning across your face, warming you and nuzzling you with unfathomable fondness. “I really want to kiss you. You know that?”

Your eyes fluttered as you stared at him, feeling those moths transform back into butterflies from the simple weight of his words, swarming you with a never ending fervent.

“Would you do it if I said yes?” you managed to murmur through your newfound shyness.

“I’d be an idiot to ever deny you, sweetheart,” he muttered sweetly, and with no more words needing to be said, he pressed his chapped lips to yours, taking you with such gentle care it left you dizzy.

Home was where Simon went, and to Simon, he’d go with you to the ends of the Earth if it meant you’d follow him.

With close to three days left of your deal, he had high hopes you'd pull through.

posting this and running away (also thank u to my bbg abby for the BAR of a line about you being simons religion I LOVE U)

[somerandomdudelmao]

there's something so potent about mikey's spirit protecting leo and i'm going to try to put it into words here but forgive me if i don't accurately get my point across

by all accounts - mikey should have shattered along with his body. and you can see the evidence of that because his spirit is cracked and fraying and glitching just like when he was alive and pushing himself too far. and yet against all fucking odds he's holding himself together and ripping through the veil almost the same way casey is just so he can stand over his big brother and return the favor leo's been doing for years - saying 'don't touch him'

leo's been acting as a shield, but even shields wear down and crack and break because they're meant to take hits, to protect the person on the other side, but nothing in this world is indestructible - not forever.

recently i learned more about radiation therapy, the way it can target certain areas in the body with the right settings, but also the way it progressively wears you down because as much as it can help you, it's also hurting you. it feels very similar to the way leo stands directly in the path of the krang's power because 'i don't have magic, it can't hurt me' but it can because the magic was there once and nothing is ever fully erased from existence. it doesn't feel like it's hurting him, but it is. and like a wilting plant trying to sprout new growth, repeatedly exposed to blistering sunlight but never being watered because 'it's already wilting and dying, there's no point' - but there's always something beneath the soil, some remnant that toils ever upward to keep growing and living. leo's never really given himself a chance, has he? because he's been so focused on keeping mikey out of harm's way that he never stopped to dig down a little further and find those roots, still trying to take hold.

there's no way of knowing at this point in the story if leo is ever supposed to find his magic/ninpo again, but wouldn't that be something? anything can grow, given the right environment and attention. take what's left from the ruined timeline and plant him in new soil, free of warfare, safe with his brothers, and who knows what could grow.

and if mikey is there? if his family is there? you can be damn well sure they're going to water anything that looks like new growth - why wouldn't they? it's time to return the favor, after all.

Yes yep mhm uh huh YES T H I S