#(tagging that because it's HEAVILY mentioned with these two)

[chibifox2002]

Ew gross, shitty parents... 🤢🤮

Get the flamethrower.

[joelsgoldrush]

“you can use my skin to bury secrets in” | 6.8k

old man!logan x f!reader

SUMMARY: Saliva floods his mouth as you rise to your feet, looking down at him from above. Gracefully angelic, and yet— “I know what I’m asking for,” you continue, your voice descending to a low murmur that scratches pleasantly against some dark and remote corner of his brain. Then you lower yourself onto his lap, your thighs bracketing his waist. You repeat your question: “Can I help you?” OR Logan had always known your generosity would get him in trouble. WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ cursing. drinking. pining. mentions of alcohol. dirty talk. age gap (reader's in her late 20s). logan’s POV. angst/self-deprecation (he just needs a little loving). religious imagery. feelings. petnames. chauffeur!logan. oral sex (m receiving, tiny bit of f receiving). sort of dom!logan. doggy style. unprotected p in v. creampie. A/N: i could say i'm sorry for this, but i'm not. love love love this old man (#needthat). heavily inspired by the song "i know" by fiona apple. @lubdubology my partner in crime who keeps putting up with me, tysm!!! hope you all enjoy it <3

The line between being a good and bad person is thin. So thin, in fact, that Logan finds himself stepping back and forth across it constantly.

Rescuing a kitten from a tree? Good.

Punching a guy at a bar because he didn’t feel like being acknowledged? Bad.

Saving countless lives from mass destruction? Good—heroic, even.

But killing others to do it? Bad—condemnable, scum of the earth.

Where does that leave him? Which side has laid claim to his soul? He’s long accepted he’ll never see the pearly gates.

When the day comes that his body can no longer take it, and he only grows wearier, he’s pretty sure there’s a special place in hell with his name on it, etched in some grave awaiting to be filled.

Maybe Satan’s already counting down the days until he shows up at his door, who knows?

Yet, the more time passes by, the less afraid he is of what lies beneath the surface. He’s learned to coexist with the darkness, with the kind of pain and loneliness that would crush most men.

He doesn’t know how, but he survives it—the agony, the memories, the solitude that hits him from time to time.

And still, he doesn't lose himself entirely. He’s tempted, of course, to linger in the past—it’s always easier to drown there.

If he could go back, he knows he wouldn’t be alone in choosing that path. Some days, it feels like the only option.

But there’s no you in his past.

Logan inhales sharply when your tongue teases his slit, lapping at the precum pooling there. You hum at the taste, your hand resting on his bare thigh, fingers pressing into his skin. Your other hand lazily strokes the length of him, working the inches your mouth can’t take.

It’s clear you’re enjoying this. He can tell from the way your lashes flutter each time he thrusts a little deeper into your slick warmth. A win-win situation.

Letting a girl like you do this to him? That’s bad. Very bad. Red flags all around.

He meets you when he least expects it.

It’s a night like any other. He’s been driving for God knows how long. His joints ache from being in the same position for hours, and a part of his left knee he didn’t even know could hurt begins to throb.

It takes everything in him not to call it quits for the night, not to turn around and head home like a coward.

When exactly his life fell into this monotonous cycle, he’s not entirely sure, but it happened somewhere along the way. Now, it’s all the same: taking care of Charles during the day, catching an hour or two of sleep, then gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity, driving through endless stretches of road, resisting any attempts at small talk from the passengers he chauffeurs around.

They all try—every single one of them. They think if they can crack his harsh and bitter exterior, he’ll open up, reveal something, anything to make their eyes go wide.

But why? Why do they insist on breaking through his shell? What do they hope to discover?

No one really cares what’s going on in his mind. They just want to feel good about themselves—like they’ve been kind, amiable, empaths intending to fill some empty and obscure corner of their own lives.

Logan refuses to be the person who grants them that satisfaction.

You slip into the backseat of his limo, closing the door with a soft click. The night clings to you, the scent of the bar still lingering on your clothes. The music is loud enough for him to hear from outside, and he sees the people lined up at the door, willing to cause a fight if it means securing a good time.

There's a slight frown tugging at your features, your lips pulled downward, though your voice is still polite when you blurt out your address.

Five minutes into the drive and you haven’t said a word. Internally, he’s savoring the silence, so happy he could jump on one foot.

This kind of peace is rare. He’d grown unaccustomed to it. The tension in his shoulders eases as the city lights blur past.

But, all good things come to an end, because—

“How’s your night going?” you ask, fiddling with the seatbelt to have something between your fingers. Logan glances at you through the mirror, his eyes catching yours just for a moment, long enough to see the faint, apologetic smile you offer him. He allows himself a heartbeat more to take you in before focusing back on the road.

You click your tongue, a soft sound of disapproval ringing in his ears. “Well, thank you.”

He lets out a quiet huff, grinding his teeth together. “I’d prefer if we stayed like we were before,” he mutters, his voice rough and gravelly. His attention flickers between the passing cars and the occasional glimpses of you that startle him every time he searches for the mirror. Cars. You. Cars. You. You. You. “Y’know, not talking.”

“But that’s no fun at all,” you retort, sliding more to your left, nearly positioning yourself in the middle of the backseat. It gives him a better view of you—whether intentional or not, he can’t say.

The lipstick on your lips is still flawless. A sparkly necklace glints just above the neckline of your dress, and matching earrings dangle from your ears. Wrapped in a leather jacket, you look effortlessly alluring.

This entire sequence is enough to confirm that by no means is he going to heaven. Straight to hell, he thinks, allowing his gaze to trace over each detail of your frame. Straight to hell.

You don’t give up. “Your aura is off.”

That prompts a crooked smirk from him, a shake of his head as he mumbles under his breath: “M’sorry, my what’s off?”

“Your aura,” you clarify, motioning toward him with a light jingle from the many bracelets adorning your wrist. “It’s the energy that surrounds you.”

Logan snorts, amused for a brief second. “Well, you weren’t exactly a beacon of life when you got in either.”

You chuckle softly, leaning back against the seat and looking out the window. “I’m much better now.” A pause before you continue, your tone shifting, losing strength. “My date stood me up. Last-minute cancellation.”

It’s not anger, nor is it disappointment, that laces your words. You seem more resigned than anything else. He’d have expected you to sound at least a bit more conflicted.

“I should’ve seen it coming. He’d been asking to move it forward for a while.”

Does he look like the type of driver who doubles as a therapist? He wishes he could understand why you're telling him all this.

“That sucks,” he still responds, because even though he hasn’t gone out with a woman in what feels like centuries, he understands that sensation all too well. “First time meeting him?”

Listen up, everyone—he’s genuinely engaging in conversation with another soul. This doesn’t happen often.

He hears you hum, eyes still trained on the outside world. You sigh, crossing your arms over your torso. “Would you mind rolling your window up? I’m kind of freezing here.”

“I’d mind that very much,” he says, his voice carrying its usual gruff edge. He fights the urge to grin, but then you unbuckle your seatbelt, leaning in closer to him. Your body is wedged between his seat and the passenger’s, and he perceives your stare boring into his side profile. “Put your seatbelt back on.” 

“You’re fucking with me.” Your finger taps his shoulder once, twice. “First, I get all dolled up for an idiot who bails on me, and now you have the nerve to make fun of me? Give me a break.”

Your eyes stay on him, a smile plastered on your face, anticipating any possible answer.

Crack, crack, crack—you intend to break through his shell, watching him from the front row, waiting for the moment it gives way.

Before you can say more, he cuts you off. “Seatbelt.”

It’s a command, an instruction, and you comply without hesitation.

Warmth pools and stirs low in his gut as he notes how quickly you obey him. 

Would you still look at him like that if you knew the blood he’s scrubbed off his hands? The flesh that his claws have shredded? The names of the lives he’s taken?

Would your warm gaze turn cold, filled with dread instead of curiosity?

Maybe this is hell. Are you the Devil in disguise, tempting him to cross a line he won’t be able to come back from?

A few minutes later, he pulls up to your building. A really nice one, he notes. You announce you live on the sixth floor. He doesn’t need to know that, does he? Why would you tell him that? Why give that piece of information to a complete stranger?

You linger in the backseat, as though you’re expecting him to turn and look at you. And he does, though not for the reason you might expect. “You got everything?”

Eager and full of life, you nod, clutching your purse to your chest. You avert your gaze to read his ID tag, the one that contains his personal details. “James?”

“Glad you can read,” he utters, pulling out a small bottle of liquor from under the seat. He drains it all in one go, savoring the fleeting burn as it slides down his throat, which is enough to keep him going. “C’mon, kid. I already charged you.”

“You drink while you drive?”

“Keeps me entertained,” he says dryly. It’s the only thing he knows how to do. Raising the empty bottle in your direction, he arches a brow. “Goodnight, darlin’. Leave me a good review on your way out.”

You roll your eyes at him, silent as you exit the vehicle, closing the door behind you. While fumbling for your keys, four words escape your mouth. Casual yet devastating, they ruin him: “I’ll see you around.” 

For a couple of days, you don’t bother him again. Bother—notice the implication of the verb in question.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t think of you after that drive. Each time his phone buzzes, a small, restless part of him hopes it’s you, asking for his services, wanting him to be the one you seek out.

And it happens. The best things seem to occur when the moon hangs high and bright.

You: Hi.

He stares at the message, recognition washing over him. He knows it’s you; he can see the other texts you exchanged that night he took you home.

You: Are you working tonight?

You’ve got to be kidding him.

Logan: Why are you texting me?

He types the words with frustration, his thumb hovering over the screen longer than usual. 

You: Why are you answering me?

Oh, you’re smart. 

Logan: Take my advice. Talk to a guy your own age.

You: Damn. Already jumping to conclusions. I was just going to ask you if you wanted to have a drink with me.

Logan: I’m busy.

You: Well, what time do you get off?

Logan: I work all night.

You: Can’t even make a quick stop? I swear it won’t take you more than twenty minutes.

An impulse to throw his phone out the window surges within him, but he manages to restrain himself.

Then, as if on cue, the device vibrates again—of course, it’s you.

You: The drinks are on me. Let me know if you change your mind.

Do you think he’s going to let you pay for him? Absolutely not. 

What surprises him more than the message is how easily he remembers your address. It appears to be ingrained in his mind.

He cancels his next trip, scheduled for ten minutes from now, his new destination being your building.

Once he pulls up, he does what feels most natural: he honks. Multiple times. Maybe he’s lucky and you’ll tell him to fuck off.

But you don’t. You’re laughing as you make your way over to the limo, sliding into the backseat in the same way you did a week ago. Your plan had succeeded—you had him exactly where you wanted.

Far from hiding it, you make it evident, obvious. Your heartbeat thrums in the air, and Logan can hear it loud and clear, like the bass in one of those funky songs he likes.

There’s no room for mistakes. He won’t deny it. Even if the feeling is mutual, he can’t shake the idea that he’s doing something wrong.

In his eyes, you’re the forbidden fruit—irresistible, the ultimate temptation known to humankind, camouflaged in the fur of a pretty woman.

You, his paradise on earth, could only lead to one thing: a longing for a chance with you, which he should never be granted in the first place.

He’s diving headfirst into disgrace, and the more he realizes it, the worse it feels. If he were to be scolded like a child, maybe he’d feel relieved, but he’s no kid. He’s a grown-ass man who should be able to resist.

Yet, self-restraint is like sand slipping through his fingers—never lasting long enough.

“You came.” Astonishment. Uncertainty. Amusement. Blinking your eyes at him, you sit very upright, and you don't even bother fastening your seatbelt. “Honestly? I thought you were going to block me.”

I can’t, he thinks. I wouldn’t be able to. I’m not that strong.

“What happened this time? Another failed date?” he inquires, still not starting the car. A look of perplexity appears on your features, puzzled about why he’s not moving. “Ain’t you forgetting something?” He tugs on his own seatbelt for emphasis, the fabric snapping back into place against his coat.

Once again, you follow his lead. “I don’t need to get stood up to want to see you,” you say, placing your hand on his shoulder for balance—or so he tells himself. It takes him all his willpower not to collapse right then and there. “Besides, I’m not bad company. I’ve been told I can be pretty funny.” 

“I see…” he trails off, catching your gaze through the rearview mirror, not shocked in the slightest to find you waiting for him to look back. “Where to?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, you should. You invited me.”

How easy it is to make your chest rumble with laughter, the genuine sound bubbling up, pure and unrestrained. He feels like some amateur comedian who has just realized his real passion is to cause this type of response in others.

Except, it’s not just anyone’s laughter he insists on provoking—it’s yours, and yours alone.

An unsettling sensation envelops him the second you retrieve your hand, not before squeezing his shoulder in a friendly manner. “There’s a bar I go to with my friends sometimes,” you suggest after a beat, shoving your phone in the pocket of your jacket. “We could try that one.”

The moment he steps inside, regret washes over him. Why is everyone here under forty? He feels ancient, like fucking Fred Flintstone.

A fossil out of place, meant to dwell in the shadows, not in a scene like this.

When he freezes in the middle of the bar, your fingers intertwine with his, tugging him along, and he follows after you like a lost puppy. The only thing he’s missing is the leash.

You’re met with his quirked eyebrows as you peer into his eyes over your shoulder, a toothy grin threatening to shake the floor beneath his feet. “You know, people usually sit down before they start getting shit-faced.”

“I’m not getting drunk tonight.” Logan exhales a deep breath, trying to hide his discomfort, his eyes scanning the room. “And neither are you,” he practically yells in your ear trying to make himself heard above the pounding music and incessant chatter. He wonders if you even hear him at all.

The two of you eventually settle at the counter, drinking in silence. Logan half-expects one of your comments to pierce through the quiet, but you delight in proving him wrong.

Instead, your head sways gently to the rhythm of the song playing in the background, and you take a trial sip of your beer.

He’s acutely aware of the stares from the rest of the patrons. He can pretend to be oblivious, but the weight of several pairs of eyes burning holes into the back of his neck doesn’t go unnoticed.

Being watched has never been his favorite pastime, and somehow, it feels even more uncomfortable with you by his side.

He knows what those looks imply, can nearly taste the hidden implications behind each fleeting glance.

What’s a girl like you doing with a man like him? A question that makes no sense.

Does he have money? A well-endowed reputation? Did he recently inherit any properties?

Are you truly that desperate for human contact?

Is your bed so cold that you decide to go for the first guy who can string ten words together?

Logan doubts whether this whole experiment is part of the community service you must be doing. Maybe he should look up your name online to see if any criminal records come to the surface.

Now that he takes a moment to ponder it, you certainly fit the mold of the criminal type. The kind who gets what she wants when she wants it, leaving a trail of intrigue on her wake.

His fingers circle the glass so tightly he fears it might shatter into a million shards. You notice his tension, nudging his arm with yours, aiming to meet his eyes.

When you do (because, as he said, criminals have their own ways), you smile, and he internalizes that gesture as something familiar, something he feels he’s grown used to. Something rankled in his memory.

It’s as if he’s known you for a lifetime.

“Thank you for coming,” you say softly, and he may be going down the path of hallucinations,  but your attention remains a little too long on his lips. Then, just as quickly, it flickers back to the rest of his face, and you lean back to drink from your beer once more.

Straight to hell, he thinks, tasting the remnants of whiskey on his tongue, for ever daring to believe himself worthy of even a moment of your precious time.

You’re probably the first person to have his full, undivided attention. And that’s… well, that’s saying something.

Most days, you’re pretty talkative, a steady stream of conversation, your words pouring out in an endless flow.

You tell him about your family, your career, that pet of yours that died when you were six years old. You mention a friend you no longer speak to, and the events that led to the downfall of your friendship.

There’s also that dish from your all-time favorite restaurant, the one you buy at least once a week because it never fails to comfort you.

Nonstop, you talk and talk, and Logan doesn’t mind one bit. Soon, he finds himself becoming an active listener—asking follow-up questions, chuckling at your jokes, even when they’re not funny at all.

He sincerely cares about what you have to say.

This whole situation with you is beyond his comprehension. Before he realizes it, you start wanting to spend more time with him.

Sometimes, you ride along in the passenger seat while he drives aimlessly through the city.

Sometimes, you invite him over, cook a meal, and he always takes the leftovers with him, as if a part of you goes with him when he leaves.

Sometimes, you come over to his place, and the roles reverse—you’re the one with the mic, asking the questions, fully aware that you’re treading on holy ground. 

Logan’s got a sign on his forehead that reads ‘Stop: do not enter.’ It’s rough around the edges, hardened by the years, all capital letters in stark blank ink. But in the end, you just take the sign and set it aside.

He never goes into too much detail. Not because he doesn’t trust you—it’s just that there’s too much to unpack, and you don’t need to know all of it. You’ll be better off not carrying the garbage he does.

Yet, you’ve got him by the throat, encouraging him to cough up disjoined pieces of his life, bits of his day, his thoughts, his feelings. It sounds stupid to him, but you make him feel alive. 

You never judge him, never flinch when he brings up stories from his past. As he sits at your table one afternoon, you look at his hands, his claws fully extended, and you don’t shy away. You rub the pad of your thumb across the rough skin of his knuckles, right where the adamantium tears through his flesh.

You don’t care that he’s a mutant, that he’s killed people. You don’t try to deny who he is or what he’s done. Oddly enough, you just wish to be by his side, staring off into the void with him. 

“But why?” he asks, partly flattered, partly frustrated. This could be compared to learning a new sport from scratch—he can’t figure you out, can’t understand why you haven’t run the other way yet.

He likes your company, though he’s always bracing himself for the inevitable day you find a better hobby and leave.

Your reasoning defies logic, and he’s afraid that at any moment, you’ll grasp the gravity of your choices.

Almost as if you could feel the turmoil brewing in his mind, you simply say: “You’re nice to be around.”

Nice. Nice. Nice. He’d cackle if he were alone. That word reverberates through him. When was the last time someone called him nice?

Bad-tempered, sure.

A pain in the ass? Definitely.

But nice? Not a term people employed to describe him.

It’s a quality reserved for you, with your endless charisma and kind heart, but not for a man of his kind.

He’s nothing more than a chauffeur, a driver, someone who does and says what’s necessary to survive. Does that make him nice? 

When he tells you he’s probably going to hell, you don’t try to make him feel better. Anyone else in your position might try to soothe him, to offer some hollow reassurance.

Your intention isn’t to change him, for him to pretend to be something he’s not. “Then I’ll meet you there,” you mutter, your shiny eyes searing into his. Under the table, your hand finds his, tender fingers grazing over his knuckles, and for once, he doesn’t pull away.

Could it be that an afterlife catching fire doesn’t sound so bad after all?

As much as he likes to admit how easily you can shift his mood, today is not one of those days.

He’s had a nightmare—nothing new, but this one had been… different. The empty bottle on the nightstand hadn’t been of any help; it never does when they visit him in his sleep.

The ghosts of those who used to be his friends, his family, tiptoe around his dreams in the form of shadows.

Blood. Screams. Shouts of his name. He can’t save them all. Walking through the wreckage, he dodges the bodies of those he couldn’t protect, the knot in his throat tightening with every step, not allowing him to breathe.

Wherever he turns, there’s death, destruction. Sadness. Did he save them all?

It’s always the same routine. He wakes up, screaming, chest aching from the effort. His lungs burn, and he has to remind himself that the limbs attached to him are his own and not the remnants of an immobile corpse.

Sweat clings to his skin, pooling at his temples and nape. He wipes it away with the back of his hand, rubbing at the soreness in his neck.

His phone rings somewhere in the distance, pulling him from his dizzy state. He scrambles to his feet, accepting the call just before it hits voicemail.

It's you. Despite it being late, he swears he feels the gentle kiss of the sun over his brow. Your sweet voice chases away the lingering shadows of his dreams, replacing the bitter taste in his mouth with something real—a reason to get up, to start moving.

He holds onto every second of the brief call, replaying those thirty seconds in his head as he steps into the shower. When the cold water shocks his system, it pulls him fully back to consciousness. He has to get ready.

Even though you insist on getting a taxi, he refuses. He doesn’t mind the drive. His gas tank does, his wallet maybe, but Logan? He just doesn’t.

At the end of the day, he’s protective by nature, and who knows what kind of men are roaming the streets at night?

God forbid they’re anything like him—eager to prompt a smile from you, trying too hard to impress you. He arrives at the conclusion that he’d rather lose fuel and money if it means orbiting around you for longer.

You make him feel better, and tonight, he needs it more than ever. He needs you.

(Now he’s driving. He honks five times when he pulls up to your building. You get on the limo, giggling as you say: “My neighbors must hate you.” He grins. You kiss him on the cheek. Subtle. Not the first time. Still, it doesn’t get old. He feels the faint residue of lip gloss on his skin. He doesn’t wipe it off.)

Not in the mood to cook, you declare as you step into his place. The mouth-watering aroma of the Chinese food you bought fills the air, but when he reaches for the bags, you insist that he sit and relax.

Sure, he can take a seat. But to expect him to relax with you around, playing this intricate game? That’s simply impossible. You’re asking for too much. He’s a player at heart, drawn to the thrill of the chase, and he will play along.

What seems inconceivable is the expectation that he can act as if nothing is happening between these four walls.

His attempts to focus on you are futile, as his mind betrays him tonight. All he hears spilling from your lips is pure and plain gibberish. Your very presence is no longer enough to anchor him.

Already immune to your charm, Logan eats his noodles, occasionally nodding when your voice rises at the end of a sentence, indicating a question.

But he nearly chokes on his drink the moment he registers your serious expression, having never witnessed you like this before.

“Are you even here?” you ask, shoving your food aside with a swift motion of your wrist.

What should he answer? What is it that you want to hear? Of course! I’m here, listening to you. It’s a delightful night. Should I start by telling you about my most recent nightmare? Quite the entertainment!

There’s a shake of his head as he lowers his gaze, escaping your concerned expression. “M’sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty.” You tug your chair forward, claiming a piece of his personal space. You know he doesn’t mind. “Want to talk about it? Did something happen?”

“My brain is just… off today.”

“Many thoughts at the same time.” Not a question. Have you completely figured him out?

“Yeah.”

He remains still, dragging his plastic fork across the now-cold steamed veggies, which have lost their appeal.

How amusing—your knees bump against his, drawing his attention. “Can I help you?” It’s new, the breathy tone you’re using, a whisper of agitation weaving through your calm demeanor. 

“Can you erase my memory?” he shoots back, attempting to smirk through the wave of memories that flash behind his eyelids. When he looks into your eyes, the siren in his head blares.

Your pupils are dilated, blown wide, chest rising and falling rapidly. Sweaty palms that you wipe on your jeans. Tongue darting out to lick your lips. Your heartbeat accelerates, drumming wildly like the fluttering of a hummingbird’s wings.

He hasn’t been with a woman in ages, but he knows how they react when they see something they like—or, in this case, someone.

“Logan.” His name rolls off your tongue once more, tinged with an unmistakable need. The thought of checking his temperature dances through his mind, but the heaviness in his limbs roots him in place. He feels feverish. “I want to help you.”

Oh, no. No, no, no, no—

“What—what are you on, sweetheart?” Get up. Find your keys. Drive her home. “You don’t even know what you’re sayin’.”

Saliva floods his mouth as you rise to your feet, looking down at him from above. Gracefully angelic, and yet— “I know what I’m asking for,” you continue, your voice descending to a low murmur that scratches pleasantly against some dark and remote corner of his head. Then you lower yourself onto his lap, your thighs bracketing his waist. You repeat your question: “Can I help you?”

He’s no longer in control of his actions. His right hand crawls up your knee, palming the fabric of your pants. It’s numbing: a lapful of you, your rich smell, your quickened pulse.

Tempting. So fucking tempted to take you right now, just like this, without the need for words. Your bodies can communicate in a language of their own, one that transcends spoken phrases. 

I want you, he lets you know through the way he gropes your breasts over your shirt, squeezing them together. He’s always been good with his hands. But what the hell am I supposed to do with a sweet thing like you?

His patience teeters on the edge of a precipice. “Tell me what you want.”

“I asked you first.”

“You’re gonna pretend you don’t know the answer?” He thrusts into the air, grinding against your clothed core, and you close your eyes. He’s rock hard beneath you, the bulge in his jeans shockingly obscene, bordering on grotesque. “We both know what I want, but I’m no telepath, baby. Need you to speak up.”

Twisting the locks of hair at his nape, you press your lips to his neck. “I want to make you forget, to focus on this moment. I want you to live in the present, Logan.” A bite on his earlobe sends shivers down his spine, and he grips your hips with a primal growl. “I can do whatever you want. Just tell me. Tell me, and I’ll do it, please.”

Please? He’s spiraling. Please? That’s it—he’s doing it. He’ll grant you your plea, which aligns perfectly with his own desires.

Once his back meets the mattress in his room, you get to work. With delicate precision, you pull down his pants, sliding his boxers off until only his thick thighs and the crown of short curls adorning his cock remain in sight. Your fingers tremble slightly before you wrap them loosely around his length, and it springs to life in your grasp.

Your gaze pierces into his, mirroring the intensity of his own. But something holds you back, prompting you to reach for his hand.

At that moment, it all clicks into place. Logan urges your head down onto him, and he’s welcomed by the slick warmth you provide.

Indeed, he’s very much alive.

“That’s it. That’s—fuck. There you go.” 

His fingers dig into the mattress, clutching the cotton sheets, stopping himself from thrusting into your mouth. It’s not that he doesn’t want to—God, he does—but tonight, he’s on his best behavior.

He wipes the trail of drool from your chin, smearing it gently across your cheek, his thumb lingering as he watches your nostrils flare with a strained, muffled gasp.

Bringing his thumb to his mouth, he tastes the wetness on it the same way you’re sucking him: greedily, without any trace of mercy.

This proves I’m going to hell, he thinks, enraptured by the sight of his cock disappearing between your parted lips. Straight to hell.

You draw him back to the present, nuzzling your face against his thigh, your humid breath teasing his thick shaft, pulling him from a deep reverie. Your glossy eyes roam, exploring until they find his, and you gift him an authentic smile. Wrecked and blissed out, it’s as if the lights are on, but no one’s truly home.

He would’ve never guessed how much you reveled in sucking cock, radiating enthusiasm with each of your movements.

“Am I doing it okay?” you wonder aloud, hovering over the tip, swirling your tongue around the velvety head. He’s no fool, and neither are you; deep down, you know you’re doing more than just okay. Actually, you’re giving him the best blowjob of his long, long life.

Each panting, airy praise he huffs fuels your eagerness, making you even more receptive to his desires as the words slip past his lips.

“Fuckin’ amazing, honey. Got me so hard, y’see?” His tone is heavily charged with carnality, gripping himself and smacking the tip against your mouth, the wet sound echoing like music to his ears.

He pulses against your tongue, and you seize the opportunity to trace the thin veins scattered along his length. Gulping, with his gaze fixed on you, Logan notices how you’re still wearing your clothes, wiggling your hips against the mattress, rubbing your thighs together to get something in return. “Are you wet?”

Humming against him, you suck in shaky breath. 

“Words.”

“I’m—I’m wet,” you rasp, voice hoarse. You try to guide him into your mouth and fail miserably, because his grip only tightens, stroking himself instead. “Logan,” you keen, stretching your neck in a silent plea, “don’t be mean.”

“Not mean. Just enjoyin’ myself,” he replies, pulling the foreskin back to expose the head, arching his eyebrows. His fingers curl around your chin, drawing your face nearer to his girth, fascinated by how your eyes flutter shut the more you surrender to the pleasure. “C’mon. Be polite.”

Blame him for it—he believes he’ll never get tired of this game.

“Please.” You whisper, returning to your begging while tenderly rolling his balls, staring at him through your lashes. And then you say it again: “Please.”

Your gaze burns a hole through his crumpled heart. He lets you have it, eager to give whatever you may ask him for. You dive back into it, engulfing his length and bobbing your head up and down with fervor. Hushed whines escape your lips, savoring another bead of his precum.

Logan almost loses it as you hollow your cheeks, instinctively cradling the back of your head. “Easy, baby. M’not going anywhere. Take your time.”

Whenever he feels himself approaching that long-awaited release, he forces his mind to conjure thoughts that will stall his impending orgasm.

The water stains from flooding on the walls.

The supermarket list.

The rising price of gas.

The—

“Fuck. Slow down,” he groans, utterly captivated by the way you point your tongue to draw imaginary patterns along his cock, seemingly memorizing every detail. “Don’t go too hard on me, remember?”

You mumble something under your breath, and at first, he can’t quite make it out. “What is it?”

“I said I want you to fuck me.”

Under no circumstances is he surviving this night.

“Really, doll?” Logan seeks the reassurance he desperately needs, fearing that this is all a dream from which he’ll awaken the moment he properly touches you. “You sure you want this old man to fuck you?”

You’re a rambling mess, murmuring Yes, Logan, please, until he maneuvers you to lie on his chest, his glistening cock sliding against your clothes, leaving a trail of dark spots. A whimper dies on your tongue as you brush your lips together, your hot breath enveloping him. “Give me a kiss at least.”

Tilting your head up, he connects his mouth to yours, growling as he detects the dull, sour tang of what must be him. He sucks your bottom lip, hardly aware of what his hands are doing until he shifts your positions, pinning you down.

Logan tugs at your clothes, peeling them away with urgency, his fingers dancing over your nipples until you’re grinding against his thigh, quivering beneath him. With a nip at your damp skin, his eyes flutter open as he studies your expression, casting you a glance that seeks your permission.

A ripple of desire courses through him when you dutifully turn over beneath him, pressing your face further into the pillow. He runs his knuckles along the curve of your ass, his throat going dry as you follow after his touch, arching your body in response.

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, he licks a long, slow stripe up your wet folds, keeping his tongue flat against your clit for a brief moment. Your arms give out and you stumble forward, stuttering as you mewl his name, fully consumed by the feeling.

So he does it again, and again, and again, flicking the sensitive bud, even though you’re already beyond soaked. It’s a pleasure he indulges in simply because he can.

Straight to hell, he thinks, coating his length with your arousal, teasing your entrance while pushing in only the tip. That motion alone is enough to make him draw a trembling breath before he continues, gradually feeding you his cock, inch by inch.

Straight to hell, the voice in his head utters as he buries himself to the hilt deep within your body, his heavy balls resting against your ass.

Like an intruder in your territory, he’s free to do as he pleases, and you let him have his way with you.

If only this moment could stretch into infinity—he longs for time to relent and never draw to a close. 

What will happen after? Will you spend the night? Does he—

“L-Logan,” you mumble, having adjusted to his size. You rock back into him, impaling yourself even more on his cock. “Please, move.”

The pace he establishes is brutal. Your warm, inner walls exquisitely massage him, and the earth as he knows it stops spinning. Fire pools low in his abdomen, his hands holding you by the flesh of your hips to keep you anchored, each thrust driving you closer to the headboard with an intoxicating urgency. 

“You wanted it from the very start, didn’t you?” He doesn’t know if a response will ever come, but these kinds of thoughts are impossible to contain. He’s just a simple man, powerless against the allure of a tight cunt. “Just got in my car and knew it would end like this?”

You roll your eyes at him, silent as you exit the vehicle, closing the door behind you. While fumbling for your keys, four words escape your mouth. Casual yet devastating, they ruin him: “I’ll see you around.” 

His next thrust punches a whine out of your lungs. Even as you clench around him, stuffed and filled to the brim, you beg for him to fuck you harder. He would’ve laughed at you were he able to catch his breath.

With a more deliberate rhythm, he rolls his hips, jackhammering your most sensitive spot, pulling you closer as he wraps an arm around you. When his fingers find your clit, drawing slippery circles, a cry escapes you, and your body merges with the mattress under you.

Your release takes him by surprise, urging him to continue as you reach back, encouraging him to chase his own climax. He knows all too well the struggle of bringing you to this point without succumbing to his pleasure too soon. Your nails graze along his thigh, leaving delicate marks in their wake, and somehow, the passion and bliss he’s been nurturing ignites into a fiery crescendo.

Shortly after, he goes completely rigid inside you, pressing his forehead against your back as he bites down on your shoulder to muffle his groans. His hand squeezes your breast tightly, riding out his high, blood buzzing in his ears, continuing to spill into you. You spam around him, milking him until the last drop of his seed, his release painting your insides with his warmth.

Logan tucks you under his chin as his vision returns to clarity. You nose his jaw, your fingers softly tracing the contours of his beard. He pulls you closer into his chest, gliding his hands up and down your back.

Half a minute of dreadful silence, then: “Can I stay?”

Oh, yes—pillow talk. He’s not great at this either. Despite that, his eyes soften, snapping to your face.

Logan pauses for a moment. “Sure,” he retorts, dragging his fingers along your shoulder blades. He’s a one-word kind of guy. Just perfect.

Tell her you like her. Tell her you don’t want this to be a casual fling. Tell her it’s more than just sex for you.

Or maybe don’t. Get ahold of yourself, will you?

“Logan?” you ask, resting your palm against his heart.

“What is it?”

“I know.”

You do?

Try as he might, he can’t deny it. He might care about you more than he ever realized.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! <3

[the-unified-programs]

Sooo... has anyone ever gotten into a series (video game, TV show, book, whatever) before, somewhat dropped out of it or something along those lines, and then got back into but, like, ten tines more obsessed? Because that kind of just happened to us...

Seriously, when we first heard of the Final Fantasy VII Remake, we were like, "oh, cool! Final Fantasy! We remember playing one of the games when we were young! This one seems cool... don't know anything about it, but it seems neat." So we had pre-ordered it. When we were able to get it, we played it for a bit on and off, before kind of... forgetting about it. We didn't forget the series entirely, no. We still occasionally went online and found stuff about the game, we just... stopped playing for some reason. And then we got the Crisis Core Reunion and played that for a bit before roughly the same thing happened. And we stopped playing either game altogether for bit, but still looked things up online about the series to learn about some characters.

And then it hit us like gosh darn freight train. Like, really freaking hard. All of a sudden we want to play through the games. We literally have 22 posters now that we got today and covered the area of walls by our bed with. Don't know what caused it at all, but uh... there might be some FFVII related stuff being posted by us soon if we feel confident in our abilities to draw humans-

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

How do you think Nanami would announce your pregnancy to Gojo and the jujutsu high cast…. Possible fic idea?

Rainbow Baby

Tags: Nanami x fem!Reader, ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, TW- mentions of a previous miscarriage, (is not described, but it’s heavily referenced), grief, tooth-rotting fluff at the end, happy ending that you and nanami deserve.

An: This is def not the fic that I accidentally wrote about the wrong character for. I definitely did not write this entire fic about Satoru before rereading your request and seeing that you clearly wrote for Nanami.

Nanami is a private man — not secretive, just private. While he loves when you visit school to see him because your presence eases his weary mind, he doesn’t flaunt you around to his coworkers. It’s honestly just a known thing around the school that Kento has a very pretty wife who he doesn’t introduce to anyone.

There is only one exception to the rule: the man who isn’t afraid of anything and has no concept of social boundaries, Satoru Gojo.

Nanami watched in utter disdain as Satoru always found a way to inset himself into yours and Nanami’s conversations. He never bothered to hide how much Gojo gets on his nerves.

However, Satoru gets a pass. Nanami may shoot him death glares and give him short, irritated responses, but Nanami will never shoo him away.

Satoru gets a pass because he was the one who made sure you and Nanami didn’t drown in grief when you two lost your first little one.

Nanami hadn’t even told anyone that you were pregnant yet — it was so early on. You two were still enjoying keeping it a small secret between you two. However, Gojo picked up on it immediately after seeing you. You weren’t showing, but he could see the small bundle of yellow and orange energy radiating from your tummy with his six eyes.

To Nanami’s surprise, Satoru didn’t make a huge deal out of it. He shook Nanami’s hand while whispering a quiet congratulations into his ear. Nanami laughed as he realized that Satoru knew, and he pulled the white haired male into a hug.

Satoru immediately knew something was wrong when Nanami didn’t show up for work the next week. Deciding to check up on his friend, he stopped by yours and Nanami’s house.

Nanami looked like a wreck compared to his normally put together self when he answered the door. His skin was pale, dark bags under his puffy red eyes from crying. He was wearing a shirt and grey sweatpants. You looked even worse…

Satoru didn’t need an explanation whenever the small bundle of energy was no longer present in your tummy.

If it wasn’t for Satoru, Nanami was sure that the grief was going to consume both of you. You were… you were understandably a wreck, and Nanami was so heartbroken himself that he struggled to hold you together. He was the man of the relationship, but he lost a child too. He had to witness his wife go through the worst pain imaginable, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

Satoru checked up on you two often. He never mentioned what he knew, which was comforting. He was just always there with a kind smile and food plus desserts. Even though you and Nanami barely would eat anything, Satoru would come over anyways.

He was the only thing constant and stable in yours and Nanami’s lives. He was the only one who knew, and he helped you two out with a level of empathy and care that Nanami didn’t know he was capable of. The house would get cleaned. Food would be served. Different bills and other miscellaneous items ended up being paid.

Soon, the grief became easier to deal with. You and Nanami learned how to cope with the loss and start living again. The grief books lie by the way. You never truly get over the loss of a baby. You just learn how to live with the subtle ache in your heart.

It sneaks up on you sometimes. You see a small baby on tv, and you’re in shambles. Nanami watches Kusakabe announce his wife’s pregnancy, and he has to excuse himself to the restroom for a breather.

Satoru spent father’s and mother’s day with you and Nanami. It’s not like he had any family to celebrate with anyways. He brought you two gifts - making sure to remind you two that you are still parents. Your little one just isn’t on this earth.

So when you see those two pink lines on a test a year later, you feel your heart stop. You can’t take another heartbreak. You’re so scared; you don’t even want to tell Nanami. You two weren’t exactly trying for another baby, but you weren’t preventing one either.

You and Nanami celebrated, cried, laughed, rejoiced, mourned, grieved, every emotion hit you two like a truck when you revealed your pregnancy to him.

You don’t stop by the school for a little while. You and Nanami are both not ready for Satoru to find out… especially not during the first trimester when it’s possible that miscarriage can happen again…

Once you hit 20 weeks and know the baby’s gender, you finally think it’s time to let Satoru know. Nanami reluctantly agrees — also because Satoru has been hounding Nanami for weeks about where you’ve been. Satoru misses the cookies you’d always bake for him.

“Do you have plans for dinner tonight?” Nanami asks the white haired male at work that evening. Satoru immediately perks up, knowing this is basically an invitation to come over.

“Nah, I was thinking about getting hot pot. Why?” Satoru asks, trying not to sound overly excited, but it’s a rarity when Nanami formally invites him over. He also hasn’t seen you in so long. He wants to spill all the new tea to you since you like that sort of thing, unlike Nanami.

“My wife baked those cookies you love so much. You should stop by tonight.” Oh, and Satoru was getting sweets? Hell yeah.

Though, the cookies wasn’t the biggest treat of the night. When Satoru enters your home behind Nanami, he walks to the kitchen where you’re standing over freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. Your tummy is rounded, and there’s a strong accumulation of golden energy residing in you.

“You’re-!?” Satoru’s eyes widen and he flicks his head quickly between you and Nanami. Your husband playfully rolls his eyes, but his smile tells you everything you need to know. He’s proud to be announcing your pregnancy.

“Yes, she’s pregnant.” He answers with a laugh, and Gojo pulls him in for a tight hug. Even if Satoru lacks some social skills, he’s able to read people like a book. He knows that this is all you and Nanami have ever wanted — a little family to call your own.

Now, imagine his big blue eyes welling with tears when he sees the cookies have writing on them.

“Nice to meet you, Uncle Toru!”

Now, imagine how fucking ecstatic Nanami is when he finally gets the privilege to announce your pregnancy to the rest of the school. He’s private with his life, but after everything you two have been through, he happily announces your pregnancy to anyone — everyone.

Oh, and your baby girl, Satori, was born happy and healthy. Besides you and Nanami, Satoru was the first one to meet your sweet baby. Yes, he cried like he was the baby when he found out about her name.

[xo2dee]

ᴊᴜᴊᴜᴛꜱᴜ ᴋᴀɪꜱᴇɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ɪɢɴᴇᴏᴜꜱ

⛧ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sukuna x (Fem)Reader

⛧ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: true form!sukuna, heian era, sukuna being an ass, mentions of cannibalism, smut, bath sex, very small dom/sub undertones, rough sex, hard degradation, degrading names, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, orgasm delay/denial, dirty talk, asphyxiation, scratching, biting, dirty talk, reader is a masochist, sukuna is a sadist, reader calls sukuna master once, breeding kink, creampie, virginity loss (only hurts like a small amount bc rly it's sukuna, his dick is fucking huge), corruption kink

⛧ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 28,617

⛧ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Volcanic. If you were asked to describe, or even alone thinking about it, you’d say your devotion and passion for the man was volcanic.

⛧ᴀ/ɴ: this is long as fuck and probably one of my most in depth oneshots/smut i ever wrote but what can you expect with someone like sukuna. pls mind the tags and i hope you enjoy!!

⛧twitter - ao3

It was hot, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the Summer night, or because you may have been on the verge of having a hot flash due to tumultuous emotions.  

A lone bead of sweat sliding down your temple to drip onto the collar of your kimono spoke enough for your mood as it matched the apprehension licking its way down the nape of your neck to your trail down along your spine; a startling contrast in the matter to how serene and beautiful the night looked and felt as well.

The night was quiet for the moment, the tatami door haven been opened to give view of the obsidian sky with the risen midnight moon along with the magnificence and abundance of bright stars and lonesome clouds backgrounding it for quite the observation of an onlooker looking for a sight to see. You were no stranger to being enamored by such wonderous sights, your eyelashes falling heavily over your eyes as you blinked in tune to the way a lone breeze swayed the nearby branches of a towering cherry blossom tree, that the petals of wisped away towards the mountain range the palace laid atop of and the smooth and still lake below the palace. It was a heavenly sight, another hard contrast to the inhabitant of the palace that was due any time to come home.

You supposed it was that time again as well, a sigh heaving its way out of your lungs as you dipped a foot in the rippling water of steam and circled it around until the heated liquid tickled along your ankle and soothed the aching bones in your foot. It was time for him to come home, and it was his bath time. It had been two weeks since he had left, a regular occasion he took part of for his taste of carnage and his appetite, and whenever he came back, he was always in a mess and tracking through all the hallways until he got to his designated area for bathing. You knew what he left for, the footsteps painted on the floor in crimson told enough, but that still never deterred you from continuing to service him.

Even if he was a curse, ate people (you preferred not to think about that too much, but the days he came back with his nail beds caked in blood and you spied the corner of his lips crusted in it, it got difficult sometimes), and was all around the most feared presence in the land, he was rather fickle about his baths. He spent a sustainable amount of time in them, something you hadn’t expected from someone like him who spent more time dirtying himself up and dousing himself in blood then dipping himself into the relaxing water of a bath. Yet, given how he carried himself, his bath was fit for that of a King.

The onsen was closed off from a good part of the palace, remotely only near his quarters and where he lounged around for most of the day, and it was as beautiful as you had expected for how nice you noted the palace was whenever you first arrived there. Inside rather than out with dimly fire lanterns and the view you were looking out at from before, it was rimmed with a fine edge before lining itself up with various rocks holding a spout that continually poured hot water into the circular structure in a rippling rhythm that calmed your mind as much as it put your body on edge. It was wide enough for him and him alone, the sheer height of him taking up most of the bath as was and normally leaving no room for anyone else.

He truly made it for himself alone to enjoy after drawn out days.

You sighed again as your gut churned, not in trepidation per se, but more-so because you were inclined to see him again in a sick sense of affection you had taken up for him for the time you had been serving him. It was morally wrong, and perhaps a bad decision on your part to care for someone who had no regard for any human life, but you blamed it on your lack traction therefore in the matters of not having someone steer you in the right direction. Truth be told, serving the palace and him was truly all you had, something that he knew just as much as you did as it catered to his liking whenever he was in his mood to tease.

You were still deciding if that was pathetic on your half or not, and apparently it seemed to be to him if the many times you had huffed at him that you’d leave, and he had laughed in your face while goading you on told you anything.

(He had told you that you were free to leave if you so wished, but not only did that disregard the idea of you being killed over it if you left, it also disregarded the fact that whenever you said so and he aggravated you on to do it the grip he’d have on your obi or your waist spoke otherwise in a means to tell you that you weren’t going anywhere regardless.

Not that you particularly minded that either, the palace was rather luxurious and offered a good amount of protection, but you only ever said that at times to feel the sting of his nails through your kimono into your skin whenever he got wound up over the idea of you leaving. He liked to tease and laugh at you knowing you truly didn’t have the guts to leave him, but another part of you whispered treacherously in your ear that the mere thought of you running away from him made him angrier than he would’ve liked for himself. And that was something you weren’t sure of on your behalf whenever he’d dismiss and ignore you seemingly afterwards, but also something that only fueled your burning longing for him at the mere indication of his possessive nature over you.)

Withdrawing your foot from the water as it seemed to be accordingly to his temperature, you decided then to pass the time and bent low enough to pass your fingers through it, your knees pressed together hugging your chest as you tickled your fingertips along the ripples that seemed to calm your nerves for the time being. You tried to keep your head clear of any greying thoughts to keep your ears alive for the sounds of his footsteps, yet it was hard to focus when all you could think of was actually seeing him again. You ended up answering your earlier question to whether you were pathetic or not when you remembered that you put on a fine, white kimono embroidered with red orchids that accentuated you outstandingly, and one that he had supplied you with a while back before, for his return and the moment you had been told you’d be preparing his bath.

You didn’t necessarily know why you felt anxious to see him once again, you had welcomed him back plenty of times after his ‘trips’, yet you supposed it was more-so something you always felt deep down from your lingering desire for him that you had desperately tried to ignore.

(Then again, the older servant was always the one bath duty, and it had gotten put on you as she was busy tending to cleaning other things, so you were the one stuck with making sure all of his needs for the bath he’d demand for the moment he got back were ready.)

There was a long moment of silence as you lost yourself in your thoughts involuntarily, the breeze quiet and the lonely owl that had been hooting suddenly stopping as the hairs on the back of your neck rose in all-too familiar sensation. It was a suffocating sense, blanketing you in a surge of energy that tickled your nerves and nearly feel like your ribs were tightening in on themselves. Part of you could feel that sliver of fear make itself known with a pang to your stomach and your pulse quickening, yet the other more depraved part knew exactly what it was as the hum in your lower abdomen spoke enough for you as you released a low breath when the tendrils curled around your neck.

You blinked as it abruptly dissipated from you… then –

“Oh? Taking a bath without me? Or, perhaps, waiting on me?”

You never could find out how someone so big like him could sneak up on you like that, nor from the way you constantly kept your eyes and ears out for him, but lo and behold he always did and found it humorous if you ever jumped like a skittish cat. Nevertheless, your shoulders did jerk upwards, but you quickly stamped it down in favor of maintaining a mask of indifference rather than surprise and excitement to seeing him again. Last thing you needed was him bringing up so that you looked happy to see him again after so long to stroke his already large ego.

Yet you stood perhaps more quickly than you intended, bowing to him before looking at him while wiping your fingers along your robe and swallowing down the ball of saliva lodged into your throat to address him properly. The other trivial annoyance you didn’t what to happen was your voice to crack or to choke on your words in front of him in newfound nervousness that you got to see him again and for him to start teasing you for that as well. It was bad enough he liked to egg on your feistiness to try and get you to snap.

“I didn’t hear you come in; I apologize.”

His voice always slithered down your spine, the wavelengths wiggling into your brain to take home there each time you heard that low tremor leave his chest and soothe itself deep into your muscles and bones. “Lost in your own thoughts? Here I was thinking you were going for a dip.” Eerily, you compared his voice and tone to that of him dragging a nail slowly down your spine, tickling you at the same time of enticing you for whatever more sensations he could bring to your mind and body. “If you were though, then by all means don’t stop on my account…”

The warmth that enveloped your face didn’t help, out of annoyance or flusterment you weren’t sure, but you were glad that he couldn’t see your face so easily from your bent over position to see the thoughts cross over your expression and color your eyes. You stomped it down however, swallowing and holding back a sigh as you replied, “I wasn’t, and I got lost in time more-so.”

The hum that left him seemed to vibrate your entire body albeit you being several feet away from him, your eyelashes falling over your eyes heavily a few times as you alternated from looking at your own feet to his. The stark contrast in the clean and smooth vision of your feet and the crimson that coated his own feet and stained the floor always caught your attention, but you had long since grown out of feeling discouraged by it. You remained bowed at the waist as you watched him walk forward a few steps, eyes on the dark ink circled around his ankles and the sound of them apparent then as he tracked more blood as he went.

You didn’t rise up from your bow of respect just then, knowing he liked it when you waited for his dismissal of it as he also hated whenever people looked up at him without permission, and if the telling signs of his bare legs leading up to his thighs circled with the same onyx ink told you anything, it was that he was already nude (the man had no concept of modesty it seemed… well, apparently around you as you didn’t know if he walked around completely bare around the other servants). It was best you didn’t look for your own dignity. You could already feel the warmth take home in your cheeks and body the same time he spoke again, fighting down the urge to squirm whenever you felt the weight of his devilish eyes on you in a careful and powerful caress.

“How unlike you…” he drawled off, a tinting of humor in his voice while you watched him dip his own foot into the bath, the water tinging into a red from the essence on it, “Normally you’re the first I see and the last I get to watch go. I nearly thought you may have finally grew some guts and ran away like you’ve been crying about, but seeing you accounted for in here…” His voice was always so smooth no matter the scenario, yet the way he curled his tongue around the last words and syllables to let them linger in the air stirred a sensation down into your thighs.

“That’s not –”

“Hmm? ‘That’s not –‘,” he mimicked the tone of your voice in a manner that sounded way worse and more desperate than you would’ve liked to even admit since you knew he only did it when your voice took on a higher pitch, and heard his tongue click loudly against the roof his mouth, “What is it then?”

You bit into your cheek, feeling humiliated that longer you stood there in your bow and listened to him begin to pick you apart and willing yourself to not give in to biting back. However, you were none too strong in that department and found the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them. “All the servants are always there when you come back… and we never leave until you say so.”

There was a short, bite of his laughter, the sound of the water rippling as you shut your eyes when you realized he was walking in, and he was just as quick to throw something back to you. “And yet, I see you the most. Even now after I dismissed you, you still stand there bowing… Perhaps seeking validation from your Master, girl?”

It was hard then, your jaw clenching as he continued to prattle off in a challenge to get you to snap at him so he could have a good laugh and toy with you as he seemed fit. The feeling of awe quickly left you in favor of burning humiliation and annoyance over his inclination to keep reminding you of his place over you and how you tried to never call him that even from the moment you met him, knowing damn well of the dastard smirk that marred his face as he said it. He could probably see your form stiffen anyway, finding sick amusement in the way he knew he could make you annoyed if he accused you of trying to suck up to him.

Bastard.

You rose back up and reopened your eyes, dead set staring at the sliding door he came through so that you could easily make your leave since he had already dismissed you and had his fun toying with you. Your fingers knotted in the front of your kimono, teeth nearly feeling as if they were going to crack and break from how hard you were gnashing them together as you glared at the door instead of him. Then you remembered why you were more anxious for his return than excited: his mouth. Forget the affection you had, you were quick to remember how much of a bastard he was that annoyed you more than anything.

“Then,” you started out, making sure you added a tinge of venom onto the tip of your tongue as you smoothed your hands down your robe, “if you’re done and I’m not needed, I’ll be leaving.”

Your nape prickled with the feeling of being watched so intensely, though you were none too ready to look him in the eye since each time you did so sent you careening down further in the pool of treacherous and growing emotions you had for him. However, even as you went to leave, he wasn’t ready to let you go so easily.

“Brat. Where do you think you’re running off to now?”

You paused, mid-footstep and your heart constricted in your chest to let that fire die away the moment the words left his mouth and a familiar pit growing inside of your stomach from the tone of his voice. You had only heard it before in hushed whispers with your blistering jealousy you tried to ignore when you caught wind of him seeking out concubines. You hated the envy that grew like an incurable parasite in your mind the moment you find out he entertained himself with others, yet it was folly whenever you realized they never did last long and usually only were sought out for one night.

A swallow broke your silence, gnawing unease and buzzing excitement bubbling inside of you as you waited for him to continue and hoped it wasn’t anything that costed you your life. You were sure it was only so much before he could take your bratty attitude (but it wasn’t like he never indulged himself in your feistiness), yet his inclination to egg it on and the fact you were still walking around serving him spoke for different reasons. There were your days though, as his mood swings could’ve been compared to stranger, unparalleled weather, that he outright didn’t acknowledge your existence and all but turned his nose up at the ‘little human servants’ he had for himself, and then the next day he was grinning at you in perverse asking you if you wanted to sit on his lap instead of on your knees at his feet. He was enigma in all intentions, but he was also a creature of chaos you had to walk on heated glass for in circumspection to not fall into the boiling lava below that’d melt the flesh right off your skin with one wrong step taken too far or with too much weight applied.

After all, he was still a curse, and an awfully powerful one that could crush you at that.

“Look at me.”

Damn.

You didn’t outwardly sigh in fear of him hearing it and getting put off from it, instead heaving it in and out mentally as you accepted your fate that he wasn’t going to let you leave without addressing him properly. You squared your shoulders to gather up as much bravery and confidence you could to look turn and look him squarely in the eye – eyes… for whatever he had planned. It wasn’t like you hadn’t looked him dead in the eyes before, watching that stupid smirk line his mouth whenever he caught the glint of a fire in your eyes, but it had become even harder after he told you he could read you like an open book and knew every emotion you were feeling looking through your eyes alone. After that, you had done your damnedest to try and not let him know of the feelings you had for him that you knew were present in your face whenever you looked at him.

In the end you obliged him, turning slowly to finally face him and meeting his eyes after so long. His eyes were as red as they could’ve been, molten heat coming from them that liquified hard into your stomach in knots that ran free like magma cascading out of a volcano the longer you were exposed to them. And even as you stood there taking in his form relaxed and spread out in the bath becoming a tinge of a pink color from all the blood, you could only think of the growing tension that was building between you two from the amount of time you had been serving him.

Volcanic.

If you were asked to describe, or even alone thinking about it, you’d say your devotion and passion for the man was volcanic. It had been dormant the moment you saw him, watching the way all four of those eyes slid along all of the new servants’ bodies in a lazy dispute with his chin propped up by one of the four fists he had, like he was sizing all of you up and seeing if you all were truly worthy enough to be in his presence. The lava inside of you tied to the strings of your affection for him were properly quiet and loose for then, your spine tensing and senses prickling in trepidation the moment he landed on you and did his own sweep of you head-to-toe before meeting your eyes. You had stared back with as much indifference you could endure, your shoulders laxing the moment he looked away and moved on, miffed with his bored expression and gnashing your molars together to wonder just what he wanted by all of it.

When he hadn’t been looking and swept his hand through the air to dismiss all of but three of you, you took him in. The bulk and ripple in his bicep the moment he moved his hand proved his strength, the dark shade of his long nails matching the black ink circling around visible body parts told you more of him, the four arms nearly as horrifying as the mouth atop his abdomen and second face atop of him protruding outwards was telling of his nature, his hair a pretty shade of pink like the kimono you had been wearing that day and the glowing of his crimson eyes matching the blood that had stained his mouth and seeped into the cracks of floor as it dripped in tune off of his fingers the next day when you realized what had happened to the rest of the servants sans you and two others. He lived up his name then, the stories you had been told matching everything you had seen as you got down onto your knees with your cheek caught between your teeth and scrubbed away to clean the floor right below his feet.

He was… grotesque and monstrous; carved straight from the flesh pits of Hell by the Devil himself. Truly a curse in the world when you remembered all the atrocities he had done and the sights you had witnessed serving under him as you allowed the back his hand to wisp across your cheek and your head for your promise to him. A mock of affection you supposed, letting the hands that ripped and teared through people lay upon the top of your head in a pet in moments you sat on your knees in front of him, and it was horrifying to think about how he did it and how much you enjoyed it the more he did so.

He was plainly evil as they came, nothing but a void of obscurity that followed him in dark fog of bad luck for those he deemed it fit for. He was… 

Sukuna.

Or as you had heard in hushed whispers the name villagers whimpered in fear at the mere thought of him: Ryoumen Sukuna.

Two-face Sukuna. You didn’t understand until you saw him up close that day, unable to look away from the uncanny way he looked when all four eyes landed on you and bored into your very soul to strip away any fabrications lying overtop yourself in his name. 

At that moment however, his name didn’t scare you as much as it did back then when you had been living in your village still, alone and bound to another before you ran off at nineteen from the prospect of vowing yourself to another before you ironically curled in on that thought and ended up ‘vowing’ yourself to another. You couldn’t remember when it changed honestly, serving him turning into… well, you were still serving him, but the complications that came along with it twirled away from you being just a measly servant that tended to his needs to someone that also kept his entertainment high whenever he was bored. You didn’t know why it was you; perhaps it was the way you liked to stare at him, scouring every inch of his skin you couldn’t find the means as to why you found him so fascinating, how you wondered someone of such an extent could even exist and how the man before you had once been a human, to the very reason of why he seemed to keep you around.

(You learned mere hours later that after cleaning the blood running through the floor that you and the other two had been the lucky ones, and you were best to be glad to be the one fitted for his presence.)

The magma inside of you had boiled the moment Sukuna first brushed against you, the muscle in his arm bigger than your head skimming along the side of you the moment he walked past and forever changing the way you looked at him whenever he brushed your cheek with an open palm. It was scalding; his skin hot with the blood of a curse coursing through his veins and deterring you from having any other focus for the rest of the day. It was an array emotions from then on out, your lust burning like hot lava in your gut every time he was near and spiraling out of control in moments you’d get your ‘praise’ whenever you did something right. You weren’t too sure if he showed the same type of ‘affection’ to the other servants, but there was a part of you that it didn’t quite settle well with if he did.

And it wasn’t like you ever got the pleasure of the people he brought into his bed, something that clawed at your brain in envy after you realized the extent of what you were beginning to feel for the man.

Part of you felt horribly disgusted with yourself the moment you realized your heart stuttered at the sight of him and your gut twisted at the mere mention of him, your inclination (or lack of, therefore) towards the men of the village not even comparing to your captivation with the King of Curses in spite of his carnage. Though perhaps it was because he was someone you had not ever seen before, his looks and power unmatchable above all else that drew you in like a moth to a flame and your sick attraction to knowing that the man could easily kill you with a flick of his wrist, but he didn’t. And that was perhaps what was so fascinating to you about everything and why your emotions went to Hell when it came to him, a burning stone inside of your mind and heart that continued to grow against your sternum brighter and larger with no intention of dying out the longer you were around him.

What made it worse was that he knew; he knew, if the intentional claw grazing across your cheek in a sign of mock affection with that smirk that was nearly too big for his face told you anything. He knew and he was playing with you, holding the strings to your puppet waving you around and wondering just when you’d crack and let him win his little game. You were none too ready to give in to him however, something that more than likely equally goaded him and annoyed him, but you knew if you wanted to keep his attention you were going to have to keep him busy with toying with you.

And so far, it seemed to be working.

Sukuna’s stare was like a white-hot cast iron pouring its contents all over your skin, seeping deep into your bones that groaned from the attention and melted away into mush inside of your muscles to leave you weak in the limbs ready to fall to your knees before him, and even as you watched his eyes do that long drag down your body and back up to your face like they always did, you already knew he was in for another round of a game. His form always captivated you, as it was in that moment from the way two of his arms were perched atop the rim of the bath and the other two lying still in the water, steam rising from his skin and water together creating a thin layer of haziness about him as the rest of his body was covered but the middle of his abdomen and up, so you were free from embarrassment of seeing the rest of him (not that it wasn’t something you hadn’t thought of at times, especially when you took in his towering height and double appendages).

You held his stare firmly, trying your best to not show your obvious flusterment he had brought upon you again, and the red of his eyes carved out a chunk of your gut to leave you with an even bigger pit of anxiety. Not so much that you were afraid of him, but wary of the rising fire between you two that seemed to be getting out of control the longer it was kept up with. Part of you wondered when it would eventually simmer, the fire dying and solidifying to its cool texture into that of an igneous rock in semblance of what was brewing between you two, and part of you was anticipating it ended soon.

“What is it?” you eventually asked, inwardly squirming from those bright eyes and masking your voice to sound less wobbly than you felt.

A fine, arched eyebrow rose on Sukuna’s face, his eyes narrowing to that of a feline’s (Sukuna was like a cat, you realized; he was a big, lazy cat flicking its tail about in a challenge for you cross over into his territory, and likewise to that of a feline toying around with you much like one would a mouse – cornering it and playing with it until it seemingly had enough) and a low hum leaving him. He made a show of eating you alive with just his stare before you watched one of his arms below the water rise, his index finger already pointed out as he flicked water off his clawed nail and turned his hand upwards, curling the long and thick appendage in a ‘come hither’ motion at you.

“Come here.”

The command made you still for a moment, your stomach suddenly flipping on itself in numerous different directions and filled the most chaotic of emotions. That phantom burn was back, cutting into your body and leaving deep lacerations along your flesh in its wake for the lava to take home and seep into your veins, while your heart stuttered at the call. You were no stranger to it, often obeying regularly and tending to whatever he wanted, but having him say it in the condition he was in was… not particularly something you were used to. Sukuna was well known for only wearing a layer of garment along his bottom half with no footwear or a top in sight (as well as the times he strutted around in just a kimono that showed more skin than covered it, more-so because he wore women’s kimonos since the sleeves could fit his other arms as well, which was why you and the other servants normally got kimonos as seemed fit), so you were used to just shamelessly ogling his chest and abdomen as much as you wanted, but him nude?

Not something you got to see, and there was a part of you that wondered if he was doing it on purpose.

(Foolish of you to even consider it, you knew that he knew that he was doing it for a reason.)

Nevertheless, you followed after his call, your steps somewhat slow as his hand remained outstretched, though he changed to his palm being open and face-up. You regarded him carefully as you got close enough to stand over him, watching his nostrils flare once before he nodded his head at you to come closer with the movements of his fingers helping him as well. A swallow was all you could muster, watching as one eye watched the movement very carefully before sliding back up to your face, awaiting for you to bend down far enough to his level so that your face was closer to his.

“Closer,” he purred, full lips twitching to barely hold his sick sense of humor.

You didn’t want to think on how the tone of his voice sent you mentally into another spiral, your ribs tightening and a snake wrapping itself around your stomach burning with the ravenous want for what was presented and to strike out for what it sought after. You could feel the hum along your lower belly, the sweat lining your spine ever-present as you as you felt another drop of it slide along down your back as you bent low enough for to rest your chin into his palm. Not something that hadn’t been done before either, but not used to it as well since it seemed rather intimate in some situations as opposed to him sizing you up.

His hand was as warm as it always was, and fingers still strong as he closed them in on your cheeks and pressed into your face. Sukuna squeezed your cheeks so much that it puckered your lips into a pout, something you duly noted that he took into consideration as the tips of his nails slightly dug into your skin. You blinked heavily trying to hold the eye contact, no doubt knowing that he could hear and perhaps feel the increase in your breathing and the thudding of your heart as that became fact when his lips twitched and another hum vibrated through his chest. Sukuna’s long eyelashes lowered over his eyes the same instance his canines came into light from his grin, sharp and dangerous in the warm light from the lantern that did little to help ease the sculpted contours on his face lined with that dark ink.

Sukuna leant in closer to you, his smell of blood masked by the wafting heat into your nostrils and eye ducts making you blink cutely at him as one of his eyes drifted around every inch of your face, “Perhaps you weren’t so eager to see me back then?” he murmured almost dreamily into your face, a front he put on whenever he was blatantly asking for you to stroke his ego, “A shame… Leaving so soon after seeing me.”

He squeezed your face once and relished in watching your expression push into one, before letting up enough for you to talk and grazing a nail along your cheekbone, “I’m not,” you persisted, more on the desperate side than you would’ve liked to admit, but seeing his eyes light up at your whine encouraged you to keep speaking, “I just thought you were dismissing me… And I’m always eager to see you back and I always eagerly await your return.” Your fingers clenched around the fabric of your kimono, Sukuna’s attention so close to your face making you think of less appropriate things to do to him and wonder just what it was like to feel his sharp teeth bite into your lower lip.

The grin that twisted his face was something that excited you as much as it unsettled you, like he was the cat who caught the canary and was going in for meal. His fingers squished your cheeks together once more before they drifted off, a finger trailing to pull down on your bottom lip before it slowly curled around your neck in one swift squeeze. Your thighs tightened in on themselves at the contact, his hands so much larger than your own something that never went unnoticed by you or him as his seven foot and some inches form completely dwarfed everyone in the palace. His nostrils flared in a show before he spoke, nails slightly digging into your neck as he squeezed your throat harder and his thumb rubbed along your pulse point.

“Eager to please, aren’t you?”

Yes, yes, yes. Your fingers knotted harder into your kimono, knuckles protruding outwards from your skin, “Always for you, Lord Sukuna.”

“How interesting,” he purred out once again in your face, a low vibrato that tickled your brain just right and had you biting the inside of your cheek when it warmed your body. However, nothing really prepared you for the moment he dropped his eyes down to look at your mouth, a low hum leaving again as brought his face mere centimeters away from your own.

You froze, not used to the attention he brought an intimate area like that, watching through heavy eyes and a parted mouth as he only seemed to come closer into your space.

Was he…

Your face warmed heavily, steam from the Onsen not helping as you fought between looking at his lips and his eyes, his face coming closer… and closer… and closer until –

Sukuna’s hand abruptly left your throat, flicking your forehead before pressing a finger there as he suddenly leant back away from you and pushed you away by the finger on your forehead. He had the gall to look disinterested again, like he was annoyed as another hand rose to scratch at the inside of his ear whilst looking off the side and examining the nails on another hand.

“Then you can wash my hair… and clean my nails. I can’t be bothered to do it right now since you’re so willing.”

The heat from the water just below you wasn’t enough to keep that foggy screen you were looking through at him up, the dousing chill you felt encase your body overwhelm you the moment he pushed you away by just a finger was enough to bring you out of your stupor. Whatever fog you had conjured up in a hazy mist looking at him whenever he had your face in his hand completely dissipated as he disregarded you from that odd little playout you two were having. Of course, what were you thinking? Sukuna never once really showed intimate affection that of a kiss to anyone so far from what you had seen, so what would have made you so different? It was your girlish wants, your long-time dream since you were a child to have a King or just a strong man offer up some affection to you, to have your first kiss by someone so powerful and take you into their arms…

It was every woman’s dream down in the village you had been born into, full of prospering life and growing by the day, but also your village was only down the mountain away from you lived as of then. And the King that you all looked up to was not the king your mother had read to you about in bedtime stories.

In reality, you were longing from a kiss from the Devil himself nearly; inhumane in his features and actions, and not a King that was seeking a Queen more than he was seeking out the means to drive fear into people to let it be known he was the dominant lifeform in their world. Sukuna was the one they needed to fear and was to respect, and he was the one that got it, because no one in their best mind would dare to oppose him – unless, of course, you wanted to talk about the abundance of sorcerers that had it out for him. Nevertheless, when you took in your situation and the reminder of your less than inclined attitude to seek out the men in your village rather than a curse, you supposed you could only blame yourself for falling up short and deeming yourself a true fool like he would call you.

You respected Sukuna, and, as much you wanted to bask in his affections and wanted him, in that same dance you could not stand his presence at times.

“Then you can wash my hair… and clean my nails. I can’t be bothered to do it right now since you’re so willing.”

You couldn’t stand him. He was annoying.

The entirety of the words caught within your throat you wanted to say to him felt like vomit stuck to your tongue, leaving you to steady yourself after his show of indifference to cover your humiliation as one-hundred words of varying degree ran through your mind at his behavior. You should’ve expected it though, it wasn’t the first time Sukuna toyed with you and you had gotten your hopes up for a sliver of affection, and it wasn’t the first time that it happened either for you to get caught up in thinking he was obliging you only for him to feign innocence and order you to do something else entirely. He was a conniving bastard really.

Moreover, you swallowed it all down, maintaining eye contact with the lower eye he had directed at you still to gauge your reaction whilst still inspecting his disgusting nails, and bowed with your cheek caught between your molars hard enough to draw blood, “As you wish.” You really were pathetic, weren’t you?

The noise that pushed passed Sukuna’s lips sounded more like a huff, like he was aggravated that you were obeying his orders instead sneering at him that he played with your wants and you were just obedient as always.  He perplexed you in more ways than one at instances like so, as he demanded and expected the world’s best respect from his servants and ‘disposed’ (read: killed and ate) the ones that didn’t meet those expectations. You knew Sukuna was a complex being, his interests being so flippant and his moods changing so fast it gave you whiplash, but for being fussy about wanting you to get down on your knees with your forehead to the floor praising him he sure did prod at you to get you lash out at him like you had done that one time…

You preferred not to think of it too much, a sigh you kept welled up in your lungs as you meandered over behind him, as the look in Sukuna’s eyes that day frightened you as much as it had excited you. It wasn’t that he was particularly angry, the dilated pupils spoke enough for that, but you didn’t realize how much he liked it whenever you finally spoke around him that wasn’t your mumblings that he made you repeat because he ‘couldn’t hear you’. Truth be told, you didn’t think about it often because it got you more… desireful than you would’ve liked to admit, and that defiant streak you had hidden underneath the constrictions of your kimonos came to life every time you saw that light in his eyes.

You ignored Sukuna’s little predator stare he was shooting at you as you came to stand behind him, a frown marring your face as you realized the only way to ‘tend’ to him was to sit directly behind him… with your legs opens… and perhaps nearly having your legs over his shoulders…. Bath duty was going to be the death of you.

The throb that emitted from within was a tickling sensation along with the presence of dampness rubbing against you, like your heartbeat was finding a home elsewhere and very familiar to you when you remembered it was same exact feeling you had felt welling up in your lower abdomen on a night that you had slid your fingers underneath your kimono and into your undergarments when you remembered that Sukuna was –

Sukuna’s head shifted, two bright, cherry-colored eyes finding your own in deadly precision that rooted you to your spot and diminished all thought in your mind whenever he spoke so quietly and sharp you had to strain to hear him.

“What are you doing?”

You blinked along with a small swallow, focusing on the dab of blood along his sculpted jawline and reprimanding yourself for getting aroused at merely the thought of your bare thighs touching his (bulging, ridiculously muscled, big) shoulders and arms and pulled yourself together enough to answer him. “I… I’ll have to sit behind you, to wash your hair that is.”

Sukuna gave you a languid blink, “And your point is?”

Ah yes, what was my point? “I was just letting you know that since I know you don’t like being touched without permission…” You’d be lying if you said you didn’t speak between clenched teeth at his haughty behavior.

“That’s hardly a problem… However –” You didn’t necessarily like the way his face split up into another Cheshire grin, a perverse nature in the way he slid one eye along what he could see of your body, “seems like that kimono’s a little too tight to spread your legs in, take it off and you’ll have an easier time. Don’t wanna mess it up either, do you?”

Despite what may have been Sukuna’s true intentions to get a peek of your form for his own pleasure, he was right. Your obi had been tied securely that morning, like it always was since you hated constantly readjusting it whenever you were tending to your daily duties, and the kimonos normally were restricting as was, but that still didn’t quell the bundle of tickles welling up in the acid of your stomach at the mere thought of just undressing in front of him. Having a nagajuban on underneath helped some and you could easily move your legs better in it, but it was also one less layer of fabric that separated you from Sukuna and it was rather thin.

Nevertheless, you complied him with a bow and flusterment evident in your eyes, deftly undoing your obi and the articles that helped secure your kimono in place before you were slipping your arms up through the silk sleeves and unraveling yourself free of the kimono. And all the while as you did so, he stared. That same stare you got whenever he was in a mood and wanted to toy with as deemed fit; the heat of the gaze of which hotter than the water in bath as you felt it prickle along your skin in chills in a phantom burn that boiled much like lava inside of a volcano ready to erupt. It was unnerving as it was seducing, feeling two eyes that time slide along the silhouette of your figure through the reedy fabric of your robe as you pulled yourself free of the extravagant kimono and folded it up to lie on a nearby jutting rock, and whenever you returned your gaze back to him he had nothing but that slick smirk split up on his face and eyes dilated as he shamelessly looked at you from head to toe.

“That’s better. Now c’mere,” he wiggled two fingers at you, eyelashes lowering in a way that shouldn’t have made him look as handsome as it did, “I’ve waited long enough.”

Sukuna was going to be the death of you. Metaphorically or literally, you weren’t sure, but you knew the costs of what you were getting into the moment you stuck around and followed after him like some lost puppy.

You gave him another nod, trying your best not to sneer at the back of his head whenever another short laugh left his chest as he faced back forward, and took the most inaudible, long inhale and exhale as you could before lowering yourself down to sit behind him. Even then you knew that any type inspiring mental talk you tried to put yourself through, that nothing would’ve really prepared for what you were going to do. You had touched Sukuna before in brushes much like he did you, but what you were going to do then didn’t compare at all.

The heat from Sukuna’s body was radiating, already making you flutter your eyes from the mere onslaught of it so close to you as you came down on your knees first, the thin layer of your nagajuban letting your covered knees skim across the expanse of his broad back. It was then you realized sitting on your knees wouldn’t work, pulling them out from under you with your cheek caught between your teeth as you wiggled your feet into the free space that wasn’t took up by the sheer mass of his body. Still, even then your knees were slightly digging into his shoulder blades, warm skin from his body churned your stomach and made you spread your legs further to try and help quell the familiar, uncomfortable knot growing within you at the mere thought of touching him.

You squirmed a fraction, lightly wincing at the all-telling sensation of dampness coating you that you’d have to care of later that night.

And in front of you, Sukuna cracked the knuckles in his fingers.

You tried not to think about the contrast in the light of your robe and the darkness of a spread tattoo scaling down his shoulder blade brushing against one and another, instead swallowing your anxiety as best as you could and ready to ask him what he wanted done first when you abruptly stopped by a splash of water hitting your face.

One arm of his had suddenly rose, a hand flicking all five of its fingers as he presented it to you to flick the droplets in your face, and his voice droning out as you blinked the hot water free of your eyelashes. “Start with my nails, you’re a woman so you should know how to do it… Though, your nails are disgusting half the time.”

Bastard.

Thankfully he couldn’t see the way you rolled your eyes, grimacing at the back of his head while keeping your hateful words to yourself when you obliged him and took hold of the hand he was presenting to you. Never mind that they were painfully calloused and as warm as ever, the size of Sukuna’s hands compared to your own would forever startle you – Hell, the size of his hands whenever he brushed them across your face was horrifying. He was larger than you on every way, something that should’ve frightened you and made you turn away, but even as you sat there digging your nails to pick free dried blood and flesh bits embedded into his own, you couldn’t find the means to turn away in disgust from him.

And on your own accord, you still obliged him, cleaning his nails free of any gunk to his liking.

(Though, he had the audacity to tell you that your nails were disgusting when his were always coated in old blood and pieces of human flesh whenever he ripped through people and didn’t have Uraume present to cook for him, and you were more-so annoyed that he was just being a hypocrite and prodding at you.)

Whenever you had finished one hand and were pulling free a rotten piece of skin from underneath his thumb’s nail on the second, he spoke while flicking water about, “Your sharp ass knees are digging into my back, move them.”

You would’ve grumbled if you didn’t think he’d dunk you underwater, obliging him as you then decided to be slightly cheeky and throw your legs over his shoulders, calves sitting snugly atop them as your feet rested along his pectorals. He gave no reaction much to your chagrin, perhaps a slight tilt to his head to acknowledge that you had put them there, but otherwise it seemed he didn’t care. Unsurprising given Sukuna’s odd nature to randomly touch you whenever he felt like it, but a win on your part since it wasn’t so often you were freely able to touch him.

Once you had grimaced and flicked his nails free on the second hand and moved onto his third, Sukuna graced you with his own version of light conversation, something you weren’t necessarily used to given his penchant of cooing at you in backhanded compliments and ways to get you to stroke his ego. Though, you perked every moment that he actively spoke, whether it was to you individually or not.

“You interest me, you know that?”

You paused, surprised and perplexed at the claim, and turned your gaze a stray pink strand of hair curled over his ear, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

He casted a long look at you from over his shoulder, a glittering red eye sharpened and narrowed down as it nearly felt like he pulling your soul out bare for him to observe and prod at as he seemed fit. “Don’t play coy, girl, you don’t think I don’t know of your little situation?”

Situation… You had various ideas running along in your head to what he could’ve been alluding to, but the one that stuck to you the most was you ever-growing feelings for him that you were sure he had eventually caught onto. Still, you wanted to at least try and play ignorant with him in hopes he got impatient and just told you instead of dangling it above your head. “I still don’t –"

Sukuna mimicked your voice again, cutting you off and flicking a hand through the water, “’I still don’t –’, bah, don’t give me that innocent bullshit you like to pretend you have with me,” he turned forward with a sneer, but a hand from underneath the water rose to curl its fingers around your ankle, scratching at your skin there before trailing a long nail up your calf, “A girl unmarried comes here from the village… Willingly as well. Can’t tell if you’re just stupid or got a death wish, but given your… situation there’s a little more to the story, isn’t there?”

Your skin puckered and tickled from his ministrations, something he caught on to as the tip of his nose grazed along the side of your knee, dangerously close to your inner thighs while he sniffed you in his course. He repeated the motion twice before he pinched your calf and sent you a hard look from underneath his eyelashes, a signal he wanted you to speak up and answer him before he lost interest and left you hanging.

And if there was anything you wanted, it was Sukuna’s full interest in you.

“You said it yourself,” you managed out, rubbing your thumb along the jointed bone in his middle finger, “people do get insufferable at times.”

Sukuna’s nose tickled along your inner thigh so delicately as you felt your lower abdomen twist and flip at the action, nerves coursing through your spine and veins as he pulled away and circled his nail around your Achille’s heel. He hummed once while alternating between your balancing your leg up on one finger and bouncing it, an air of inquisitiveness to him as he regarded your words. “How odd of you to say, turning against your own species. Still, satisfy my curiosity; what was it? Are you just ‘adventurous’, looking for a way out in life? Hmm, that doesn’t suit you, you hardly ever roam around here; maybe it’s something deeper, huh?”

You didn’t answer him right away, his thumb nail dipping into your foot enough to draw a small dab of blood that you didn’t shy away from. Nor did you feel disgust when he turned his head enough for you to watch his ridiculously long tongue fall free of his mouth and lick up a slow trail to let the stray blood broken free of your skin seep into his tastebuds. You could see the ink on his tongue that matched the markings on his body, but you were more enamored in the way his tongue felt lapping along your flesh, the length of which you were aware, but the feeling of it tickling along you in wet laps, hot from his carcass of a mouth and puckering your skin was… enticing.

You wondered if you tasted good to him, a devious thought crossing your mind whenever you briefly thought it would feel like to have his tongue drag its way up your inner thighs until wiggling along a place that had never been touched before… a place you were more than willing to allow him to defile if he so wished. It was no secret Sukuna had sex, but it was always a want to know what it was like – not just in general, but with him.

The coil that had been steadily growing in your belly pulled considerably at the path your mind suddenly took, deep in the recesses of your mind thoughts that you only conjured up late at night, and your expression withered into that of mock pain as you flexed the calf he was holding from all the attention. Sukuna cut his eyes back to you, wriggling his tongue back into his mouth and a low hum rumbling of his chest as he assessed your expression.

“What was it?” he continued without missing a beat, dismissing the fact that he had just licked you, “Parents about to marry you off to some flesh bag down there and you just couldn’t stand the idea of being tied down? How droll, living the rest of your little life serving someone, I could only imagine how it burns you up inside…”

…What was he getting at?

“Or –” his curled all fingers around your ankle, and squeezed, “Perhaps they can’t handle you, your bratty mouth is enough to speak for and I don’t think anyone would put up with it… so maybe you ran off thinking you could find someone that could live up to your wants…” Sukuna’s nails dug into your foot harder, scratching away at your skin as more blood ran free and coated his appendages in a startlingly crimson. It seemed he was truly just an insatiable creature when it came to his appetite – be it flesh or other wants in general, Sukuna was voracious.

You winced at the wounds, the sting of pain burning just for a moment until it numbed out, replacing a heated hum within your mind and body at the rough treatment, and you waited for him to elaborate further. Your mind was less than stable for the moment, wondering just how he seemed to know everything about you when you never even spoke of your past to him. Though, he had a point when he mentioned your deep-rooted desires…

“So?” he prodded at you, catching your attention before it wandered off too far, “Tell me. Maybe your dearest father sold you off and you’re covering it up because you can’t take the fact they didn’t want you. Don’t be so upset about it… all the women like that end up here; just damaged goods…” His voice tampered off into a sick purr, like he enjoyed the idea you may have had issues with your family and it was why you ended up at his palace, and his tone trailed into something that offered a façade of softness. He was talking to you like he was taking pity on you, but if it wasn’t for the condescending way he was speaking and overall, his personality, you might have believed him.

But alas, he was Sukuna. He loved tearing people apart – physically and mentally.

He squeezed you harder when you remained silent, quiet from the way he was analyzing you as the bones in your foot began screaming at the pressure and your blood began sliding and curling around his forearm like a snake constricting itself around him when he broke skin. You couldn’t stand how blood complimented his skin, like he was born to be a predator in all his intentions – like he was born to be murderer and shroud himself in an ominous fog for the remainder of the time he walked the Earth.

Like people were supposed to fear him for all of time (how long had he already been alive for; how long would he be alive for? He’d outlive you for sure…).

You watched his lips part again, those canines you fantasized seeming much larger from the shadows the lanterns were casting, and decided to answer him before he had another chance to try and insult you or assume you abandoned by your family.

“That’s not it,” you snapped out, watching that gleeful grin split his face at the fast way you responded and when you thumb pressed down onto the bottom knuckle of his pinky finger. It wasn’t enough pressure to break it, Sukuna’s body was practically indestructible when it came to humans and you had unfortunately witnessed him growing back a foot once when it had gotten severed in a fight (you’d never forget the way it all molded back in bone, muscles, tendons and flesh, nor the sounds it made), and continued before he had a moment to prattle off again. “My parents love me, and my mother knew I didn’t want to marry since she was arranged herself… But there’s only so much they could do anyway and they tried to keep me hidden, but…” you stopped and scowled, remembering the priestess of the village pairing you up before you had ultimately left everyone and everything behind.

After that, it was how you wandered into Sukuna’s domain, seeking a new life in a place you wouldn’t have been able to ever been found by anyone that knew you. What you didn’t expect was seeking a way of salvation in the means of someone who couldn’t quite offer it.

He was quiet for a few moments, eyes scaling across every inch of your face, possibly seeing ever blemish, pore, markings, and any imperfections as he went, before he hummed and arched an eyebrow, “And yet, you still left them. Can’t imagine how that broke their little hearts, and can’t imagine your poor little husband-to-be,” he broke into a hiss, eyes staring at you, but more-so they were looking through you and he was seeing something else entirely together, “You don’t wanna go back to a place where you’ll be living a like little placeholder doing what you’re told to do, but you come here to nearly do the same and you don’t want to leave… Why is that?”

He knew, and he just wanted to hear you say it.

You swallowed, holding his gaze steady and murmuring out the words that nearly got lost in breeze outside and the steam rising from the bath, “I’m perfectly fine here…”

You didn’t answer his second claim, too afraid of his reaction.

Sukuna abruptly freed your ankle, eyes dangerously narrowed in a heavy smolder and his tongue making itself seen again as he curled and swiped it along all his fingers to lick your blood free of him and left your leg alone to sit atop his shoulder. A breath of a dark and velvety chuckle left him, tickling at your brain and making your skin erupt into more chills at the way it vibrated through your legs and the rest of your body as he pulled free his third hand to give you his fourth while rolling his neck and facing back forward. You took his hand without a word, slowly going back to cleaning underneath his nails as you tried to process that he truly had picked you apart without even you having to tell him anything.

“So interesting. You little brat, you oughta be grateful then… If only they could see you now though.”

You didn’t have an answer to that, your lungs squeezing for you to take a breath and your heart slamming against your ribcage,  knowing damn well if your parents found out you were serving and lusting after the man everyone feared they’d be crushed you were in his clutches. However, they’d believe you didn’t come to him willingly, believe you to be hypnotized by the curse from one of his abilities, though it was far from the truth. And you were grateful, you had stayed at the palace for a long while and nothing had become of you (read: you becoming his dinner), which was why your captivation by him only seemed to grow and you wondered if Sukuna only kept you around for you to tend to his needs.

You had half a mind to say something, thinking that perhaps his little speech was of means to get you to confess on why you had lingered about for so long and never actually tried to escape like some of the other servants did, but Sukuna was Sukuna, he didn’t care about petty, little, insignificant human feelings. Part of you thought about placing your hand atop the side of his chest, spreading your fingers along the significant width of it to look for that steady beat underneath all the flesh, blood, muscle, and bone to see if his heart still beat; a silly thought of your behalf, he wouldn’t be walking if he didn’t have a heart, but you assumed it more to coax you in a metaphorical sense than physical. Your affection for the man was far beyond that of only wanting to be his bedmate, something you knew you would never get no matter what, something that was incredible foolish of you to think of as you could feel the Gods smiting you for thinking you’d ever be anything more than another human to Sukuna, and nothing more than that of a pet to him.

And for that, you kept your mouth shut, keeping your true wants of wanting to feel him in more places through your kimonos tucked away in your heart and only obliging him for whatever he wanted when he asked.

You really were pathetic.

Sukuna didn’t speak again for a while, long enough for you to finish on his last hand and move to wash his hair. The pretty pink locks were always in an arrange tangles for the most part, slicked back on his head with oil and matted with… other essences you didn’t like to think about as you were meticulous in the way you washed it. When his shoulders relaxed as your nails scratched through his scalp, you grinned behind his head in victory, spending a less than needed amount of time there since it seemed he liked attention in that spot as you freed it of more gunk. Though, wrangling another particularly hard knot free and soothing your fingers through the strands, you took notice the unease in the atmosphere; Sukuna’s biceps bunching in like coiled snake poised to strike, and the veins in his forearms and hands making themselves known in a show of his rising agitation.

He was getting annoyed.

You were ready to ask him what was wrong or you were doing something he didn’t like, stomach becoming heavy with anxiety, but he beat you to the punch with a series of words that that horrified you more than that time he had you feed him severed fingers like grapes into his reclined form and awaiting maw doused in the bits of flesh and blood that came from them.

“I’m bored now. And I’m sick of playing this little game you’ve conjured up.”

Fear struck you for a moment, a feeling of absolute terror that Sukuna had grown bored with your existence entirely and was about to dispose of you threatening to make you literally bow your head into the floor and beg for him to keep you around. You hadn’t wanted to sound so desperate for him, but (pathetically) he was all you had and you would have been telling the biggest lie if you said he wasn’t what your mind and body had been craving the moment you laid eyes on him.

The words were on your tongue, ready to plead with him to give him whatever he wanted and start up a rebuttal that if you were so interesting that it would be best if he kept you around, when the familiar sensation of his nails grazing the skin around your ankle stopped you, letting your eyes wander over the way the tip of them so deadly but gently drew a pattern around the bone of your ankle before he curled his fingers around it in a strong grip. The heat from his fingers was boiling, nearly feeling that he was searing into your skin to melt the flesh away until he could feel your bone, and you opened your mouth to say… anything, but were thrown for a loop when suddenly your vision was warped and your world bent and turned upside down.

Literally.

Sukuna tugged once and one moment you were staring at his nails scratching at your ankle and coiled his long fingers around it, then the next you were underwater.

You didn’t get a moment to even process really how it had happened (your mind quickly concluding though after you heard the splash that he had dragged you over his head – flipping you – and into the bath) or how the hot water was pricking into your face like needles, stinging and burning your skin in stabs as you gritted your teeth before you felt his hands curl under your armpits and lift you free from being underwater. Your nose was clogged from the onslaught and your eyes watery from the invasion, something you tried dastardly to rid yourself of before you faced him and let an array of words fly off your tongue if you hadn’t finally looked him in the eye after coughing and sniffing through all the water.

You were pissed, and he knew that. And it was something he was expressing extreme humor in as well.

Sukuna had that same grin on his face, gleefully taking in your face and the rest of your body that was presented to him as you only glared with about as much dignity you could’ve mustered for someone that had gotten roughly handled and drug into a bath full blood and anything else imaginable. He hoisted you up closer to him, your erratic blinks from the motion flicking stray droplets free from your eyelashes as you felt your legs stretch as wide as they could for your knees to sit onto either side of his hips and hover you over his bare lap. You didn’t dare to sit down, your nerves pricking as a voice in the back of your mind screamed from the close proximity of you two, and instead only stared of what you could of his face while awaiting for him to speak.

“You look like a drowned cat; all weak and pathetic… but I can tell you got something to say, so say it,” he goaded at you, teeth as white as ever reminding of the old folklores you had been told of beasts in the ocean water with just rows of sharp teeth that tore flesh apart so easily.

Frustration welled within you, every single insult of a name you wanted to call him sitting on your tongue sour for you to spit out. And yet, you didn’t, wanting to leave him egging you on in want for you say it to him.

And it worked.

Sukuna brought you closer, his natural musk making you dizzy while you alternated from looking at his sharp canines (that you still longed to know what it felt like to have them bite into your lip, or graze across your collarbones), and the intracity of the tree bark-like protrusion he had on the left side of his face (that you wondered to know what it would feel like against your lips if you kissed him where his cheek was to be, and hoping that he could still feel it underneath that partial mask), and holding your breath to keep from fainting in his hold from being so close.

“C’mon, say it.”

Your face was hot, not only from being dunked into the bath water, but from his dangerous nearness and you hovering over his lap in nothing but your nagajuban and him being completely bare in the water below, something you tried desperately not to let show on your face was affecting you and something you tried not to let your libido wrap around too much for your excitement to take shelter in more as well. You had half a mind to just stare at his lips, thinking perhaps that would give him the idea of what you really wanted, but with Sukuna’s face coming closer and the hold he had on your becoming tighter, you couldn’t help but to only stare at him.

You frowned, a nasty scowl deepening on your face as he continued talking.

“I know how bad you want to, you’re not as discreet as you like to believe you are. What’s the matter? Afraid of a little word? Or are you just waiting on my permission like always? Well, you have it, go on, tell me what I want to hear –”

“You’re an asshole.”

You weren’t sure if that’s what he wanted to hear, but it was the first words you thought of and the first words you got out of your mouth. A lie you would be telling if you said it didn’t feel good to call him that, but a screaming in the back of your head telling you what you had was just going to cost you dearly. All feelings left you, dread imminent for just what he had said: your bratty mouth. Your tongue was venomous, saliva bringing itself forth from your gums as you thought of ways to backtrack what you had just told him but finding nothing and leaving you drowning toxin as it seep back down your throat to settle in the bubbling acid of your stomach and constrict around your heart to leave it panging in aftershocks for what you had done. A swallow was all you could muster, blinking as innocently as you could as you awaited his reaction.

And from his expression, you had actually managed to catch him off guard… but that wasn’t always the best idea.

God, you had really done it.

Though waiting on him to bite back surprised you, as Sukuna’s lips twitched first, then his fingers tightened on you before he threw his head into his shoulder blades and laughed; full-on guffaws you had ever rarely seen the man do that shook his body and echoed throughout the room. Sukuna’s laugh bordered on one of most eerie and horrifying sounds you had ever heard, he laughed boisterous and without a care in the world, but usually whenever he laughed he did it for a purpose. A purpose in which was in his favor, like whatever was presented to him in a challenge and he knew already he’d come out on top in his victory, he would laugh.

That made you all more anxious for what was to come.

You only watched the swell of his Adam’s apple bob for a few seconds longer, his chest rising and falling with each breath as you were jostled in his hold before he stopped with a loud sigh and craned his head back forward to look at you. You tried to remain as impassive as you could, but it was hard with someone like him who could scrutinize you with a single glance, and it didn’t help either whenever he leant back into your face with another of his vibrating hums and a newfound, pleased light in his eyes you hadn’t ever had the chance to see before.

Sukuna smiled again, a third hand rising out of the water to trail a nail against your cheek as he tutted at you, “Now was that so hard? Want me to praise you for it now? Must feel good doing what you’re told and getting a reward for it…” A lethargic blink on his behalf let you watch a droplet fall off his own long eyelashes, his next words slow and with a hidden meaning that made your skin pucker into chills went you thought too hard about it, “Keep talking and I’ll give you a treat like the good girl you are.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in, flustered by his voice and annoyed by the way he was talking to you altogether. Am I a dog now? Disregarding the way your stomach fluttered with the ghost of butterflies at the way he spoke, you realized Sukuna truly was only wanting to mess with you, like he always did. It really was just that; he wanted to provoke you enough to get you to snap back at him so he could laugh and tease you as he saw fit for his entertainment. He had gotten bored with your compliant behavior and wanted to strike a nerve in you somehow, dragging you into the bath whenever his little psychological warfare didn’t work against you and winning the upper hand once he got you in.

The back of your teeth mashed together, that feeling of frustration balling back up into your chest when you thought about if that’s what he really wanted then you could give it to him. You could test how far you could go with the insults if he was allowing it, your tongue sour to scrape all the bitterness off of to get what you really wanted to say to him out in the open. Consequences be damned, if Sukuna really wanted you to keep talking, you would.

You glared at him, getting even more annoyed whenever he only seemed to grin harder, and let the ties holding back your submissive behavior snap, “Is that what this all is? You just want me to degrade you? Call you an asshole, a prick, a bastard? I could go on…” You felt confident in speaking to him, nevermind he could easily squeeze until your eyes and spine popped free of your body, but the more you spoke to Sukuna like that, the more you felt alive. Why had you not done it before knowing you could live in the end?

His lips puckered, a low whistle breaching your ears and he let another devious chuckle out as he rolled his neck, “Such nasty words for a pretty mouth, maybe I made the right choice in not cutting your tongue out…” His words did little to scare you, knowing if he had truly wanted to do it he would have the moment you caught an attitude with him. A finger pulled at your bottom lip, exposing the bottom layer of your teeth as he tapped his nail against your teeth, the clicking noise annoying you as much as he was in that moment. You took a bold move then, biting down on his finger in retaliation for putting in your mouth as he only seemed to tiredly sigh and press down on your tongue with a squint, “Have you not ever heard to not bite the hand that feeds you? Then again, you’re some lousy, village girl with no education… I shouldn’t expect much from you.”

You let go of his finger, pissed with his little comments about you that were less than a praise (or his own twisted version of a praise), and squirmed in his hold. You dug your knee into his hip when you realized you couldn’t move that much, then at a loss of anything to bite back him said what was on the tip of your mind again, “You’re annoying me. This time, I will really leave.”

A bark of laughter made you pause and huff at him, ready for his next insult as he returned to pulling at your lip, “I’ve lost count how many times you’ve bitched about that, and frankly it’s gotten on my last nerve…” His hand gripped your face again, squishing your cheeks and forcing you to look him in the eye, “You and I both know you don’t want to leave.”

You didn’t have a doubt that he could feel the warmth of your cheeks onto his fingers, fisting your own fingers into your soaked robe underneath the water’s surface as you replied, “And how would you know?”

There was a beat, the breeze outside going quiet once more as the crickets left and you were left alone with Sukuna, and you knew then you should’ve bit your tongue on that question. The ambiance took a devastating turn so quickly, the banter between you two seeming almost lighthearted and flirtatious all but diminishing, and its place something… more, something hot, and you could feel that volcanic rumble the moment Sukuna’s pupils dilated the longer he looked at you. A bead of water trailed down you’re your temple and Sukuna regarded you for a long moment, his eyes remaining unblinking and unsettling you the longer he did so, before let go of your face and trailed along your jawline, lightly scratching at your skin as he went and whispering hotly into your face.

“Because your body is saying otherwise.”

A shock went through you, a chill sliding up along your spine to tickle at your brain that froze you for the time being as you tried to fight off the look of guilt on your face. He couldn’t have known… there was no possible way… The dread filled up your gut the same time you remembered your positions, desire napping in your belly like a fat snake steadily growing in warmth as Sukuna’s hand slid down to your neck, fingers making a show to tap your jugular before squeezing your throat once more. You fought back the whine as your lower regions throbbed once more, Sukuna’s nostrils flaring out again before he hummed and dropped his gaze lower to your chest.

And stared.

Just stared, until he grinned and circled his thumb along your throat, nail pressing in and –

“Nice tits.”

You balked, mouth gaping open at his claim and looked down to see what could’ve possibly made him say something like that until you realized you were practically all but nude for him to see. Your nagajuban truly was just some flimsy material you wore underneath your kimonos, the thick fabric of those keeping your covered, but since Sukuna had… asked you to nicely to take it off and you were just in the thin fabric that was stuck to your body like a second skin drenched in water and had become see-through and your nipples were hard and poking through the cloth and he was just staring at them – !

A noise that seemed to be what he was waiting broke free of you finally, an embarrassing, girlish gasp bubbled up from your lungs whenever another hand (him having four hands was a curse) rose up and pinched at your nipple experimentally and rolled it in-between his fingers. Whenever you wiggled and arched your back as you felt the numerous twinges of pleasures shoot down towards your belly and begin to make your body uncomfortable with want and flooding with the need to be touched. Not a smart emotion to feel on your part, and seeing his insufferable face split more into amusement only cemented that fact that you knew what was coming.

“So sensitive… Make that noise again,” he purred, tickling you and enjoying watching your face twist at his touch, “The act is cute, but I’ve grown bored entertaining it… Why don’t you really tell me why your body is feeling like this?”

“I’m not sensitive,” you argued back, trying your best to bat his hand away from your stimulated nipple, but to no avail as he resorted to just palming and squeezing your breast altogether. You huffed and let him have his way for the moment, gritting your teeth as you made up an excuse, “You threw me in hot water unexpectedly, of course my skin is going to react like this.”

“Is that so?” Sukuna’s hands left their respective spots, instead both wrapping around to caress the back of your neck and the other two holding your waist steady underwater, face coming closer than before and you stopped yourself from staring pointedly at his lips, “You lie, girl.”

He titled your head back, forcing your back to arch deeper and your thighs to brush against his sides as he pushed himself to tower over you, enjoying the way you bent under his demands and were pliant in his hold when he wished. To your horror, Sukuna sniffed you, the rumbling in his chest akin to a low growl as he squeezed at the nape of your neck, teeth too straight, too white, too sharp, on display as they gleamed with his victory and mesmerized you all the same. He laughed again once, titling his head at you like a curious animal before indulging you in your worst kept secret ever known.

“I know the smell of a bitch in heat, and you reek of it.”

If you weren’t mortified before, you certainly were then. Sukuna could smell you – Sukuna could smell you. He already had seemingly heightened awareness and senses, but you didn’t think he could smell… that. Your airways were restricted, mouth gaping back open with newfound heat seeping into your entire body; your muscles sagging and bones feeling nothing but like grounded mush as you could only stare at him with the truth out in the open. Though that very piece of information had morbid curiosity and stimulating excitement fueling a deeper part in you to know just where he was going with it. A treacherous, wanton part of you hoped he was leading to where you thought he was because… the idea Sukuna wanted you like you wanted him was… exhilarating. And if he had been waiting on you to just say it or something…

You didn’t get a chance to even process it too long, for Sukuna had started speaking again the moment you let the realization spread across your expression. “Foolish girl, you didn’t think I knew? Every time you’re around me you carry the scent of it, and I thought it’d be fun to play your little coy game, but I’ve grown terribly sick of it,” his eyes widened and you wondered if the glow from his eyes was your imagination, or his intimidation tactic, “You little brat, women throw themselves to my feet constantly, did you think pretending you weren’t like them would make me favor you? Make me chase you in the end until I snapped and put you in my bed?” he paused for another moment to let his expression morph into something near frightening, eyes dilating further as he took in your form so pliant underneath him and his nails scratched harder at your neck, “It doesn’t work that way, so it’s best if you own up now and maybe I’ll consider a solution.”

Sukuna’s words didn’t necessarily deter you, in fact him defending himself like that made it seem like you had quite the opposite effect on him as he was the one who had drug you into the bath because he had gotten sick of you playing coy. He could talk all he wanted, but the more he spoke the more he exposed himself to you, and that helped you in the end to fuel certainty that Sukuna did want you at least on a level of carnality.  And if the way he was holding you and had been trying to coax you to admit that you wanted him in that same spoke for anything, you knew your efforts had not been vain.

Sukuna had kept you along with him for a reason, and you weren’t sure what that reason was, but you knew most of it was his physical attraction to you. And you had stayed for your physical, mental, and emotional attraction to him, but you both would benefit from what had been brewing between you two like a long, overdue volcano ready to erupt.

You didn’t flinch in his grasp, instead eyeing him gently before letting your eyelashes droop and pushing your shoulders back, mentally grinning in victory when one eye slid down to stare at your breasts again. “I –” No, try something else. “Maybe I did, but it seems like it’s worked out in the end, hasn’t it?”

Sukuna gauged you from a long moment before his face split out into wider grin, another short laugh he gave straight into your face as you tried to ignore the remnants of skin in his teeth and instead focus on that treacherous long tongue. “So, what is it then? You want me to fuck your brains out until you can’t remember your own name? Or you wanna be my little whore?” A finger returned to pull at your bottom lip, the tension in the room far greater than the heat as he had murmured those words in the same tone from before while you desperately tried to keep yourself poised to not unravel at the seams.

A sigh threatened to leave you when images flashed through your mind at his inquiries, both making you anxious for what was to come to leave your stomach queasy as well as your body responding greatly to the ideas. You didn’t have to hide it anymore as you felt yourself beg from the pleasure in the form of your thighs growing hot and lower abdomen tightening up, bravely bringing a hand up to grab his finger and place on it your tongue, his nail scratching you there as you slid the appendage along to let your saliva coat his fingertip down to his second knuckle before closing your lips around it in a tease and popping it out of your mouth. He only watched with an amused expression, though the obsidian that was his pupils told you a much different story to how he was feeling underneath that mask.

It was nearly like you were in the caged clutches of a beast, ready to tear into your flesh be it by a pure physical sense or just alone sexually. Sukuna’s claws were controlled and ready, the muscles in him ready to snap from being so long coiled back like that of an agitated snake and he was ready to reach out into you to have his way that had been a long time coming. Moreover, it had been only a matter of time before you unraveled free from your fine silk hold and tumbled down below into the tattered seams of purity confined within the branches of Sukuna’s depraved world, and you lost yourself completely to whatever he was offering.

There was no turning back, and you let that be known as you looked him dead-set in the face.

“If I said both?”

Sukuna didn’t miss a beat. “Then you are a fool… But,” he relinquished all hold on you, returning back to recline on the bath’s edge with two pairs of arms splayed atop the rim and leaving you to hold yourself up by sitting on his spread thighs. You watched the shadows from the flickering fire inside the lanterns dance across his sharp jawline and daunting cheekbone, making him look all the more dangerous and unreal as he tilted his chin up and looked down at you figuratively, a challenge present in those rose-colored eyes that fueled the burning in your gut. “I’m never one to turn down such a desperate whore, though,” he paused to look at his nails, giving off the indication he was bored, “I’m also not some commoner. You seem much more inclined for this, so why don’t go ahead and show me – or yet, show me and tell me how much you want me.”

He finished off by circling a long finger along the surface of the water, giving you a long look from the side of his eye, eyelashes sitting pretty and brushing along his skin as he blinked languidly at you awaiting to see your reaction. You didn’t necessarily have one, swallowing as you understood that Sukuna was punishing you in his own way by not touching you and making you act on the progression of what was to come, and while you were nervous about the idea (especially when you were sitting on his thighs so close to him and he always had at least one eye on you) you couldn’t help not to feel that candle light of confidence burn inside of you. He was obviously affected by your body, and if you showed more of your body…

You could feel the magma inside stir; bubbling out of control and rising to its hottest temperature before it exploded free of its confined space the moment your decision was made. It was scalding as it poured into your skin, nearly feeling like all the walls holding your façade up were melting away your flesh and letting Sukuna see what rested beneath all the muscle and bone. He had burrowed himself deep even if he didn’t know it, pulling your bones apart and snapping to make himself fit within the skeletal cage surrounding your heart as he only dug deeper and found the garden that laid your soul. And if your soul and mind had been bared to the dark trenches of Sukuna’s grasp, all that was left was show him all of you.

With a long, inward sigh, you lifted your hands up, undoing the sash of your nagajuban in finality. You had dropped your gaze down to watch your hands move instead of looking at him, knowing that his eyes would have pinned you in your place and you wouldn’t have able to even follow through. However, Sukuna was never one to not give his input (even when it wasn’t needed nor wanted), and from the moment you began to slide your robe down to bare your shoulders for him, he spoke.

“Not so modest now, are we? Never thought I’d see the day you’re not all covered up in those shitty kimonos…”

You returned your glare to him as you slid one arm out from a sleeve, face too hot and body beginning prickle from the weight of his stare. “You got me these shitty kimonos.”

He had the gall to look smug. “I did, perhaps I should stop though. That way I can see you walk around like this with your tits out.”

You didn’t have an answer to that, returning to undressing yourself with your lip caught between your teeth tightly as you pulled your other arm free and opened the remainder of your robe. You weren’t sure what you were expecting (all four of his eyes widening at the sight of your nude body? Him suddenly dropping that demeanor and launching himself at you? A little bit of that purr he did with his voice whenever he was cooing at you in a mock praise, but that time he was telling you that you were a work of art? Hardly.), letting your nagajuban float behind you in the bath while feeling free and desirable being naked, but Sukuna just sitting back and staring at you with the most uninterested and sleepy look on his face was not it.

You swallowed and glanced around, eyes falling on the bright moon for a moment before returning back to him, pushing your shoulders back to accentuated your chest in hopes that he would do something. He did not however, instead only raising another eyebrow and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else but there with you. It made you annoyed; there he was one moment talking about how nice your tits were and touching them, then the next he was looking ready to curl up his lip at the sight of your bare body…

He was the most difficult person in the world.

“What’re you doing?” he eventually asked, tapping a finger against the rim of the tub and sounding exhausted.  

You squirmed on his thighs, slightly feeling more and more self-conscious the more he just sat there with that stupid on his face, and rose your arms to cover your breasts, “You told me to show you and tell you…”

Sukuna scratched his cheek, yawning before he inspected his nails once more and smacking his lips, “All you did was show your body; already seen it. I was expecting a little more considering how pathetically desperate you look and smell.” You weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to him only using one eye to look at you while the others maintained preoccupied, it was always going to be unnerving on how Sukuna could multitask on an inhumane level, but it was downright terrifying at times knowing that he could always see what you were doing regardless of where you may have been.

The hairs on the back of your neck rose. Your hackles raising with the desire to mouth off to him for his petty behavior. He had you naked sitting on his lap and he still wanted to toy with you, though you supposed he had a point since he had already fondled your tits and saw your body through the waterlogged fabric of your robe, and you had been expecting too much whenever you stripped yourself free. You supposed that you could show him more that you wanted him, but you weren’t too keen on begging like you knew his sick mind wanted, ready to gloat and degrade you the moment you arched your back for him and moaned. And to be honest, you were getting anxious and more excited the longer you two danced around the inevitable.

Only a fleeting pass of a multicolored imagination could let you guess how he was feeling.

Without verbally answering him, you decided to push aside your uncertainties for the time being to pursue what you wanted. He had given you the go, but while you may have not trusted your voice to provide the words for it, you certainly could convey your desire through pressing your body to his and preforming such actions. Luckily he kept his gaze on his nails, allowing you to scoot forward on your knees to up his thighs, growing closer and closer until you hit the wall behind him and were as close to Sukuna as you had ever been. He regarded you for a quick moment – a fast glance down towards your body you would’ve missed if you hadn’t been so close to him – before pretending to play disinterested again. You inwardly huffed, leaning closer to sit your ass completely along his crotch with a smooth roll –

You paused. That – Your eyes widened. It can’t be…

Sukuna only grinned. It is.

Despite the temperature of the water, the body part was the hottest thing in the room, sitting up high and proud against your belly and stretching up past your naval and scalding at the tip of. The sheer length of it made you nervous (not something you hadn’t thought given Sukuna’s towering height), but the feeling of it heavy against your flesh made you all the more apprehensive for what was to come. Genuinely, how were you going to get it to fit… and considering your ‘circumstance’, you knew it wouldn’t be an easy process.

A splash of water to your face brought your attention back from zoning out on a spot of Sukuna’s ear, looking back into the smug expression growing with glee when he noticed the worried look painted completely across your face. “What’s the matter? Surely you’re not backing out… after all that I would think you had more courage than to just run away with your tail tucked between your legs,” he tipped his chin down again, looking at you from a frightening angle, “You’re not going to disappoint me, are you?”

His words brought you free of whatever had you caged back, your lust blooming blue within the lava guiding you through to pursue what you wanted instead of letting your worries take over. You grew bold and furrowed your eyebrows, placing your hands atop his shoulder with your nails digging in and pressing yourself closer to his face, “No, I just need… adjustment.” You hoped he understood that. And you hoped he wasn’t going to just shove his cock in you without any more touching (no matter how tempting that sounded to you).

You expected a condescending laugh, his body shaking from how hard he did, or perhaps a scoff, but you didn’t expect the eye roll or the long sigh expanding his chest as the two arms underwater clutched at your hips, the hold possessively strong and his nails stinging into your flesh whilst slightly lifting you up from him without so much of an effort. “I guess we have to do this the old-fashioned way… But let it be known I’m only doing this so I can fit, I don’t need nor want you squirming and crying about how it hurts or doesn’t fit. Shit gets on my nerves…” he mumbled out that last bit as he maneuvered you to his liking, scooting you closer and sitting you down as his cock slid up between your ass and your stomach slid along the hard muscles of his own. His skin was still burning you, your skin puckered from his proximity and body humming with arousal.

Whenever Sukuna tapped a finger onto your hips in what you thought was an impatient gesture, you spoke, “What do you –”

You started whenever a fast sequence of pleasure darted down into your legs, your ankles rolling as it spread up back to your brain before manifesting completely atop your sensitive clit. A noise that was a cross between a gasp and squeal escaped you the moment you felt the flexible appendage alike to a tongue lap along between the parts of your pussy, wriggling along with the fat of it before the tip swirled your clit in agonizing circles. Your thighs shook as they fought to close, yet Sukuna’s thicker thighs kept them securely open atop his lap to keep whatever he was doing to you happening to his liking. You didn’t have a chance to think clearly or even ask what it was he was doing to you (or what body part that was), and all thought completely left you the moment that slick appendage parted your cunt apart with the tip and twisted its way into your absolutely drenched hole, rendering you the mess he knew you would become in doing so.

Whenever you gasped and threw your head back, Sukuna hummed with pure amusement.

“Mmm, you taste as good as you smell. And you’re absolutely soaked, you little slut,” he squeezed your hips and coaxed you to move them forward, “Oh? Don’t be so shy now, this is what you asked for so you might as well take what you can.” Sukuna continued to only sit back and watch you, propping his cheek into a close fist as took in every single expression that crossed across your face with only a look of mild amusement.

It was the mouth on his stomach you learned, the part seeming to have a mind of its own you thought on occasions if the numerous times you had spied it smiling at you said anything. The fact he could taste whatever was placed upon its tastebuds told you a lot, and if it wasn’t the fact that his tongue was currently fucking you and he could taste how your insides were it would’ve grossed you out. Sukuna chuckled as he watched your face twist into pleasure, that inhumanly long tongue lashing out across your inside in rough strokes as it probed you until you cried out loud enough to wonder if any of the other servants in palace could hear you.

The tongue mapped out your pussy in every which way it could to gather as much of your slick as he could to lather it upon his tastebuds. Your thighs began harshly trembling then, as you had locked them around his own while he slid his hands back onto your waist to keep seated nicely onto his abdomen. Your eyes rolled, your hips desperately trying to rock harder against him for his tongue to push deeper into your cunt and for your clit to hit in just the right spot along his flexed abdominal muscle. Your hands on his shoulders had moved into fists to anchor yourself as you began to push and pull as much as you could for how your mind was beginning to spin into dizziness and your legs were beginning grow weaker as the seconds passed both of you.

Sukuna only watched you with an impassive expression, looking like he could have been anywhere but there in that bath with you as you rode on his tongue. Your body was quivering, pulse accelerating as you felt yourself begin to slip down onto the slope to careen yourself down into a climax, and the noises passing through your lips by then were full-blown moans and you could take a very little note to the way Sukuna’s fingers were beginning to harshly dig into your flesh. It was then you knew it wasn’t enough, you needed Sukuna do completely dominate you; you needed Sukuna’s hands all over you and to touch every single part of your body to taint it with his own version of Hell. You were the lamb to his slaughter, you were the virgin offering themself up, and you needed to reject the Gods and humanity for your desire for the Devil in front of you.

You lifted yourself up the same time you uncurled a fist, coming down on his tongue as it swiped along the innermost part of you and tickled your spine. You clenched around his tongue and got delight in a slight pinch coming to his brow, bravely twirling a strand of pretty pink hair around your index finger as you moaned for him again. “Sukuna.”

His mouth twitched as he narrowed his eyes at you, all the while keeping your expression imploring in hopes he got the message. You were sure he did if the flicker of amusement glinted in his eyes for a brief second told you anything, but he wasn’t so easy to win over. Sukuna hummed and rose the one hand he wasn’t using to your face, dragging a nail along your jawline before tracing your lips, “If you want something, address me properly.” He spoke so calmly it infuriated you, his ability to remain unphased by your actions doing nothing for your confidence and making you regret even wanting to ask for it in the first place.

A shaky breath left you whenever you felt your pussy tremble around that tongue, each precise lick it gave to the inside of your cunt tickling and making you grasp for the long-awaited release you knew you were on the cusp for, the inside of your lower abdomen beginning to feel as if it was in a blazing fire from each fervent motion of his mouth and each rolling of your hips did to let his muscle grind along your tingling clit. The amount of loud moans he was pulling out of you was downright sinful, your grinding picking up as you tugged his hair hard enough to push his head back a fraction and angle your hips up to slide right along his body on the perfect spot atop your clit. A rumble in his chest made you clench hard around his tongue while your eyes fluttered shut when the vibration of it expanded out to reach the inside of you, a myriad of nerves tingling up towards your clit as your fingers tugged harsher onto his hair the moment you realized he wasn’t pushing you off.

“Please,” you whined, completely forgoing his order for you to address him as you should, “touch me.”

“Please, what?” he hissed while squeezing your cheeks, a fine edge to his voice that excited you more than anything. He was getting impatient.

Anxiety twisted its way onto your face, the word like a scorching coal on the tip of your tongue when you remembered what he liked to be called, and you shifted on his lap once more before parting your lips for the candied beg to finally leave your lips and grace his ears and ego.

“Please… Master.”

The smile that split his face into two should have frightened you, the way his eyes seemed to glow and widened should have made you more anxious, and the way he laughed should have made you think twice about what you getting into. However, none of that happened, not when Sukuna rewarded you for your submissive behavior and had you wriggling on his tongue once more when he moved both hands above the water to splay his fingers along your chest.

“Such a good girl, how adorable you sound like that,” he cooed, slowly and heavily dragging his searing palms down to your breasts as you arched further for him, “I suppose you earned it for obeying me…”

It was but a brief moment as the tongue inside of you stilled, your eyes reopening to see what caused him to stop until you felt the palms of his hands shift, the flesh atop them seemingly tearing itself open before warm breath misted across your aching nipples and teeth bit into them and tugged. You squealed and bucked atop his lap, another two tongues sweeping across your tits and his fingers creasing into your flesh he toyed with the flesh and rolled them around in his hands, bouncing with them with a laugh when he realized how much it did to you. Your anxiety dissipated the moment your body was flooded with more pleasure; that heat inside stoking itself in circles around your brain, heart and stomach as it grew and grew the more Sukuna touched you.

Your brain was pure liquid at that moment, only thinking of how fucking good it felt to have him tongue-deep into your pussy and his hands fondling your tits. You rolled your shoulders back and began scratching at his nape as you nearly started to create waves in the pool with how harsh you were riding atop him when the weight in your lower abdomen grew larger and harder, and your thighs were beginning to shake once as pressure pressed harder onto your sensitive clit.

Your muscles felt practically useless and the noises you were producing growing louder as his enthusiasm grew tenfold when his hold on your waist doubled down to almost bruising and you got to watch his nostrils flare at your behavior. You already knew Sukuna had been aroused just as much as you were from the thoughts of lust, and the thought sent a hard curl downwards to where your anticipated release grew in crescendo of wave tides.

You were close.

And Sukuna knew that. With a cackle he abruptly withdrew his tongue from inside of you, leaving you whining at the loss before he pulled you back a fraction and let it return to sitting atop your clit. One hand let go of your waist, a finger placed under your chin as he tipped your face to look back into his with half-lidded eyes, “You’re having so much fun you’re forgetting me. Though you’re dripping on me as we speak, I wonder just how much your cunt can take…”

You blinked as he removed his finger, holding up his hand in front of your face with the dorsal side facing you as you watched in horror and amazement as Sukuna’s nails shrunk. Gone were the talons you could still feel present on your waist and breast, instead on that hand was short, blunt nails, still dark in color as he flexed them and curled all but his index and middle finger down and pressed them against your sternum. Sukuna began a slow descent down your body, a cackle of electricity leaving his fingertips as he went that you could only assume was his energy, sliding down sensually past your naval, down in the curls atop your pussy, before they flicked into your folds. You braced yourself in that moment, Sukuna’s thick fingers parting your cunt open as he began to press his index in first.

Holding your breath you winced at the sting, the tongue from his abdomen already lubed with salvia and not as thick, as he watched your face carefully. When he slid in his finger completely in and took notice of the way you jerked and gasped at the new intrusion, you got the rare instance to see a look of surprise cross his face before it was completely taken over by the widest grin and a horrifying new purpose in his eyes.

Guess the cat was out of the bag.

“Virgin,” he hissed, a cackle born free from his twisted mind breathing out into your face as he pushed another finger inside of you and curled them hard. “Oh, you… You’re a delight.”

You whined at the sting of the stretch and his words, rolling your hips harder and more frequently against the tongue his abdomen had produced so that it lapped at your clit faster and turned the uncomfortable sting back into that saccharine pleasure from before. Sukuna wasn’t too keen to let it go however, slamming his fingers harder up into you and stroking them deliberately along your insides until they molded to him as all the while the mouths he had conjured up on his hands sucked and bit at your tits greedily the more your movements became desperate for a release. To which you knew then wouldn’t be long given the amount of stimulation you were receiving from the most sensitive regions of your body.

Sukuna seemingly found your virginity arousing to him, the hand that had been squeezing your hip darting up to grab your throat in a fast and hard squeeze, and one of your hands rising to curl fingers around his wrist as your airway was suddenly restricted for the time being. The mouths on your nipples bit down harder and rolled your skin between the teeth, and the extra tongue on his abdomen jabbing at your throbbing clit grew faster as you fought to gasp between his squeezing fingers and a wave of lightheadedness. It was not unwelcome however, arching your back as your eyes rolled whenever his fingers tickled the inside of you in lethargic bouts, and you could feel the ball in your stomach began to unravel in the appearance of your nirvana.

“Giving your virginity to me? You really shouldn’t have,” he snarled again, choking you harder after briefly letting up to hear you take a weak breath, “Take heed, brat, once you let me in, there’s no getting me out.” He laughed again whenever he watched your expression twist up, the look similar perhaps to those he had seen before underneath him, and picked up the speed of all his motions with a too wide grin, “Seems your pussy can’t take too much, are you really about to cum so soon?”

You were, you really were, but you were trying your best to fight it off so that he didn’t win so soon. However, staying quiet was not in your favor, a hiss leaving the man underneath you when you seemingly ignored him in favor of rocking your hips against his tongue and pushing his fingers deeper into your pussy. That simply wouldn’t do for him.

One mouth let go of a breast, allowing Sukuna to slap your tit once – twice before pinching your nipple even harder than he had before and slowing his fingers down at your behavior. “I asked you a question, you’d do well to answer me before I leave you to your own hands.”

You arched dangerously in his lap and scratched down his chest, all the sensations leaving your mind completely discombobulated as you babbled out whatever came to mind first, “I can take it – please.”

Sukuna tutted at you, leaning forward to press his hot cheek to yours, “I don’t know if you can… My fingers feel a lot different than your own, huh?” His finger spread themselves apart inside of you, and you thanked anything and everything that you couldn’t hear the obscene squishing you knew it was making in the water below you. “You thought I didn’t know? Walking up to me with your fingers smelling like your pussy, here I thought you were just being a little whore and teasing me… You just couldn’t help yourself.” His voice was hot against your skin, his tongue falling out of his mouth to lick a trail from your jawline up to your ear where he bit at it before whispering almost sugary-like in your ear, “Tell me, how many times have you fucked your own fingers to the thought of me?”

His words made you clamp around his fingers, all the memories of the nights you spent with your fingers inside of yourself those nights you spied Sukuna with another and could hear them all the while you imagined it was you he had pressed down into his bed completely ruining. Him knowing that you had touched yourself somehow still embarrassed you despite what you two were doing, but it didn’t deter you to not answering when you knew he could take away his own if you didn’t give him what he wanted.

“So much –” you panted, scrambling to hold onto his shoulders again whenever he rewarded you with a smooth lick along your clit and a curl against the wall of your plush cunt, “I always touch myself to the thought of you, Master.” Perhaps that was laying it on a little too thick, but you couldn’t find the means to care whenever it appeased him.

A low, ‘Hmm’ tickled you, Sukuna moving his face directly back into yours to let his nose and lips skim along your own, “Oh? I’m flattered...” he blinked languidly at you, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he watched you come undone atop him, “How many times did you cum?”

Your head was spinning, body feeling hot and the nerves inside of you tingling.

You clawed at his shoulders and shook your head when you felt the quivering of your legs increase, “I… I’m so close, please –" you broke yourself off with another whimper as the only answer he gave to that was to pull you impossibly closer, the mouths on his hands biting at you hard enough to bleed before licking up any stray dollops in a squeeze and let his tongue rub away at your swollen clit in fast tight circles.

“’Please’,” he mimicked your moan, snickering at your expression and releasing your throat to return to squeezing your waist, “How many times have you cum to the thought of me?”

You moaned his name again in a wail, your eyebrows furrowing with sweat beginning to line your brow as the combined factor of his fingers stretching and curling in side of you, his tongue rubbing along your clit and your grinding was nearly too much for you to bear. That one particular feeling was back in your lower abdomen; the weighted sense far different from the usual building orgasms you got. It was a pressure in your cunt that felt as if you couldn’t ignore and you needed to rid of it to get the tension out of you. Another moan passed your lips as you felt your mind and body begin to spiral into euphoria; you knew exactly what it was.

“Each time… All of them – ” you croaked off from trying to warn him into another high-pitched whimper whenever he dug his sharp nails into your side and pushed his fingers farther and faster into your pussy. God, he knew. He fucking knew it was coming and was trying his best to ease it out of you.

The thought had you unraveling at a devastating pace, your eyes rolling back into your head as Sukuna’s tongue slithered out of his mouth and his hot breath sifted across your face before he was licking the sweat off of you. He made his way down into your neck then, his smile pressed into your flesh there before he bit you. You cried out and it should have hurt you, but the pain and fear was far gone to feel with how Sukuna was treating your body. Wonderful near orgasmic heat born of pleasure radiated out of the bite in a humming electricity, your eyes staring into the ceiling almost sightless as everything spun out of control and became too hot for you to handle. The ball in your lower abdomen was stretching to its limit, your pussy clenching and unclenching as you felt it all began to descent into ecstasy the more he pleasured your body.

You whimpered whenever he bit particularly deeper, and Sukuna huffed into your neck, his lips beginning to move against your skin as he sucked at you and pushed his fingers as deep as they would go into your cunt. You arched harder against him in pure ravishment, your forms perhaps looking like an ink painting placed along on sacred scroll telling the tale of the Devil entrancing himself in a human woman, and you found his hair again tugging, his snarling against you and the added pleasure from all his body parts doubling down letting you know he quite liked it.

You were spiraling, his tongue dipping into your flesh to wiggle around the same his fingers pressed up against your cervix –

It’s right there, right there, right there, ther – Fuck!

“Sukuna – ”

Your hips rolled faster, harder.

He growled, loud.

Your frontal lobe completely morphed and only focused on him; just Sukuna, Sukuna, Sukuna as your back arched in a near gruesome backbend and your fingers knotted into his hair more. Another loud groan vibrated your entire being and your thighs blazed and tingled as they began to roughly shake with another obscene moan falling out your mouth. The pressure in you was too large to ignore then, spine tightening as you sought relief for it and when Sukuna’s tongue returned to rubbing harsh circles into your clit and his fingers pushed and curled, pushed curled, push and curled, push and curled – and your eyes rolled back – and just fuck it was right there, you were almost there – !

Everything abruptly stopped the moment Sukuna wrenched his mouth away from your neck, drawing a near mournful cry from you as all pleasure left your body when he pulled free his fingers and tongue away from your pussy as well. He sat back against the wall of the Onsen with a grunt, the orange lighting making your blood smeared along his face look daunting as he brought up the fingers that had been inside of you and licked them clean along with your leftover blood. You remained seated on his lap, body unsatisfied and heartbeat thunderous in your head befuddled from his behavior (and rather ticked off he conned you out of an orgasm), watching him be annoying as he sucked his free fingers of your juices with the most obscene noises you had ever heard come out of the man. He popped his fingers out with a grin, a dazed look in eyes as one rolled over to look at you.

“Sweet,” Sukuna sighed, smacking his lips obnoxiously and raising his arms up in a stretch, “Close your mouth, you look stupid gaping like that… Honestly, what were you expecting? You didn’t tell me you wanted to cum, so how was I supposed to know? I only pulled away because I didn’t want your puny ass fainting on me.”

You hated him (you didn’t), and you wriggled on his lap as the evidence of your uncared for arousal became evident despite the bath water. Sukuna regarded you with another eyebrow raise, watching you curiously as you lifted yourself up on shaky knees and meaningfully dug your nails into his shoulders as you readjusted yourself until his cock was placed back in front of you intimidatingly standing against your abdomen. Glancing at it through the water was enough to make you anxious again, spying the same black ink circled around the base of it and the reddened tip leaking from substance, and you had to swallow down the nervousness making itself known in your stomach when you took in just how far up it sized against you, and how thick it was enough to completely stretch you apart and mold your insides to accommodate you. And you how much you knew it would completely ruin you.

It shouldn’t have aroused you as much as it did.

“Need something?” Sukuna’s voice purred out way too close to your face, your eyes fervently moving back up to his as you were caught blatantly gazing down at his cock. He looked smug, cheek propped up by his fist again as he had relaxed back, yet the painted emotion present his eyes nearly caused you to flinch back. Normally Sukuna looked as bored as he could be or humored about something he found funny, but being so close to him let you see the maelstrom of emotions that remained hidden within them. The lust was nearly able to be touched, to reach your hand into his world and take hold of the vines that would leave you littered with lashes in your skin but would do you good in the end to get through the precarious path.

It was enough to remind you of the throbbing in your neck and in your ankle from his rough treatment, enough to remind you of the light scratches on your waist, enough to remind you of the soreness present in your cunt, and enough to remind you of white-hot pangs of desire bubbling up behind your naval unsated. And it was enough to guide you through what you sought after for so long.

A sharp pinch and twist to your nipple brought your attention back to him, the eyes the same color as the strawberries you had seen growing in the mountains boring so intently into your own you had no choice to even try and pull away. He nearly acted like a bratty, pouting boy prodding and tugging at you to get your attention, but you kept that particular piece of information to yourself since you also did the same to get his attention.

Sukuna rose an eyebrow, “Well? Are you just going to stare at me or are you gonna tell me?”

His thighs flexing beneath you and his cock twitching against your stomach sent your mind into a frenzy, the vast urge to stop beating around the bush like you two had been doing winning out in the end as your impatience (and Sukuna’s, you were sure) had grown to its head. The lava inside was spilling out of the volcano, pouring out in a slow roll as the earth beneath it fell apart in the guise of your control and the world was doused in a glowing, fiery inferno that could only be quelled with the union of Sukuna’s own snake-bitten lust.

You fixed your expression into something of innocence, your face warm for what you were going to say and your resolve all but crumbled into diamond-filled dust whenever Sukuna looked upon you. “I prefer to just show you.”

A long finger tapped against his temple, his eyelashes heavy as he slowly blinked and murmured so velvety in made your thighs clench, “Then by all means, show me. Getting a little dry over here.”

(You could’ve done without the side comments.)

Boldly, you pushed yourself up again, letting a hand silkily glide down his chest to trace the tattoos until you got to his abdomen and made a point to individual touch each grooved muscle there. Sukuna regarded you with interest, and grinned whenever you skimmed fingers against the mouth atop his stomach and let the tongue hidden beneath lick at your fingers. You only kept them there for a brief moment, sliding down past the pubic hair before you got to the heat of his cock. Sukuna remained looking disinterested however, but your curiosity got the better on you as you curled your fingers around the sacred skin and gave it an experimental squeeze to test a reaction.

It was in your favor as you duly noted his chest hitch, but otherwise his expression stayed the same.

“Don’t bite off more than you can chew, brat,” he warned, a hiss underlined in his voice letting you know his composure might’ve been for a show.

You bit your tongue to keep a nasty rebuttal from flying out of your mouth, instead leveling him with a half-hearted glare as you traced your finger around one of the tattoos along his base, “I can take it,” you argued back, watching his mouth fall into a thin line as his chin down and he glared at you from under his brow. His expression worried you for a moment, ready to just tell him he could do whatever he wanted as the magnitude of his glare reminded you of the day a pack of sorcerers made the grave mistake in trying to ambush him and it ended in a massacre, but his voice so hauntingly calm and quiet soothing your ears made you buck up nearly, the frequency of so like icy breath blowing across your neck and tickling you.

“Then take it. Go ahead, sit on my cock. I don’t want to see a single inch of me out you either, let me finally see what you look like with your pussy split apart by my cock.”

Sukuna didn’t offer you anymore words after that (and you tried desperately not to think on what he meant by ‘finally’), and while you were mentally scrambling over the way the words twisted your stomach and warmed your ears when you took in his relaxed position. From the way he was still just sitting there looking like a twisted, horrific version of a God with his cheek propped up by his fist and a lazy expression on his face like a panther, you realized he wasn’t going to do anything to help you further, sacrificing you to the clutches of desire to fend for yourself. You knew Sukuna was a man who was dominant through and through, his mere existence called for the submissive behavior of those below him, but you didn’t think he’d be one to let you do as you pleased when it came to sex.

Or, he was toying with you again, wanting until you said what he wanted to hear before he would finally lift a finger again and give you what you both wanted. Sukuna was capricious, his mood swings terrifying, so the little haughty, bratty act he was playing with you was him playing your own game as you did with him. You should’ve expected it really, playing a game with him was dangerous and anyone rarely came out the winner from his conniving ways, and with a sigh you accepted your destiny for carnality, biting your lip as you decided you nor him wanted to wait any longer while you pushed yourself up farther to let swollen tip of him bump across your clit.

Of course, you were still horribly anxious, never having your body breached in that way and with Sukuna’s large structure (were all dicks that big? Surely not, Sukuna was just big in general) you knew you’d be in for a difficult time. He only watched you as you moved him to your opening, your hands guiding him and you as you went and bracing yourself for inevitable. With a heavy inhale you began to push yourself down onto his cock, holding back a noise of complaint whenever his thick, blunt tip already began to stretch you far more than his fingers had done and you could already feel the sting present. While you had prep from him and the water from the bath had wet his cock some, it seemed still not enough as it was rough sinking down onto him in a torturous pace from the sheer length and width of him.

The pressure was painful you would admit, your insides nearly feeling like they were being intruded in the worst way possible as you slid down onto him centimeters at a time. It was a few moments of grimacing and holding back a whine while your other hand scratched at his shoulder before you got his bulbous tip in, a sigh leaving you as perhaps that way have been the worst part due to the shape of his cock but was quickly replaced with a choked squeal whenever Sukuna suddenly lifted his hips up and forced another inch of himself inside of your pussy.

“Oops,” he snickered, “Had to stretch a bit.” And without so much of another explanation reached a hand forward to pinch and play with your swollen nipple again between two fingers.

You gritted your teeth, a hiss leaving through the cracks of them as you let go of his cock and instead kept both hands atop his shoulders as continued your pursuit down. Your cunt was throbbing by then through the sting of pain, the stretch of his cock nearly making your eyes roll back as the feeling became a blurred line between just pure pain and unbridled ecstasy. Nevertheless, you were no quitter, squinting through your hazy vision to watch him amuse himself with flicking and twisting your nipple around as you continued on down to fully sit his hulking cock inside of you.

Your pussy ached and clenched as you pulled him into you, inch by inch you sinking down onto him, biting your cheek and practically holding your breath the entire time as it was a few more minutes before the entire brute of him was pushed inside, a choked gasp falling from your lips as you felt your walls stretch, constrict and throb once you got him where you wanted him. An electric shock spread throughout you whenever his cock seemingly pushed your innards apart to accommodate him, a dizzying sense fogging your mind at the completely full feeling you got just from sitting on his cock. He felt… amazing, nearly feeling like he breaching up past into your guts as the idea made you sway slightly and dreamily sigh when you began to feel your clit and cunt pulse at the mere entrance of him.

You shuddered whenever Sukuna made a rumbling noise underneath you the same time you flinched when you sat your ass onto his thighs, another choked sigh leaving you as felt you the muscles of your pussy contract and flutter around the new welcomed intrusion. You wiggled a bit before sighing in content and from how fucking good it felt having his hot arousal inside of you once and for all and how full you felt with him inside of you, before you arched your back again and sighed in complete bliss whenever the discomfort seemed to finally wane a fraction.

Sukuna switched from pinching your nipple to squeezing it, another mouth hand forming as it licked along your flesh in appease your efforts and reward you for taking all of his cock. He hummed in approval, “Look at that, never one to not back down, are you? You look good stuffed by my cock, perhaps the best you’ve ever looked.”

Overran by the fog clouding your mind and his words sending you into a state of abandonment, you rolled your hips once in a pivot, pulling him inches out of you before rolling back down until he bottomed out in you with a soft moan escaping your lips. You repeated the action when you realized how good it felt, discomfort leaving you and your throat filling up with a multitude of sounds as your brain only focused on the pleasurable sensations you were receiving from your cunt. Becoming easier to slide due to the amount of slick you were producing to coat him and your insides, you tuned in the way you felt each engorged vein rub across your walls, your skin puckering in chills as you continued rock up and down, up and down, up and down until you felt your body nearly melting from the attention.

Underneath you, Sukuna whistled, letting the mouth on his hand suck at your nipple harder as another arm rose for him to splay his entire hand across your stomach, pressing down with intent to feel his own cock inside of you and grinning whenever you whined and constricted up around him from the pressure. “You’re tight. Feels good, doesn’t it?” he cooed at you, pulling at your nipple and lidding his eyes, “Tell me how good it feels.”

His voice made you want to curl in on yourself, hide away from him as the tone and assumption behind it made you embarrassed. However, there was no hiding from Sukuna then, slowly sliding about atop of him easy enough to not let the water splash too far out of the tub. “It feels so good,” you awkwardly started, gaining momentum as you found your voice better, “More than I could dream of.”

“’Dream’? How adorable.” The airy chuckle he gave reverberated throughout the room, the two hands below the water grasping your hips again as he flexed his fingers and secured you in a firm grip, another strange expression on his face as he leant back far enough to watch you rock on him, “Go ahead then, fulfill your little fantasy, I won’t bite.”

(“Unless you want me to.”)

He didn’t have to tell you twice.

With your clit and cunt throbbing and feeling him pushing against your walls so hot and insistently, you began to move your hips rhythmically against his, the stretch exquisite and your brain slowly shutting down any other thought that wasn’t Sukuna. You could already feel your body beginning to hum in delight from each way his cock slid along inside of your pussy, speeding up a bit as you watched his expression remain impassive, teasingly letting the mouth on his hand suck greedily as your nipple as he only watched you ride him. You could feel him purr practically whenever little, meek whimpers began flowing out of you, your rocking speeding up a fraction when it got easier with time.

Though with time, you realized the grinding wasn’t enough.

You lifted yourself up off of him, lethargically pulling him out of you and the slow slide of his girth making you grip him harder while biting your lip to keep from whining out. Once he was back out and his tip kissed your folds, his nails dug into your body for a brief moment (a break in his composure, you could argue) before you buried him back inside of you at the same pace, yet that time the stretch was tighter as you clenched up to get a better feel of his heat. The action of you pushing him back up into the hilt of you let a breathless moan fall out of you and hum from him, you tossing your head back once more with your eyes fluttering while the mouth on his hand kissed along your breasts.

You resorted to bouncing on his cock then, the feeling much better than that slow wind-up you had been doing as the water below you two began to slosh with your movements. Albeit the bouncing was better, you still couldn’t find that tangible spark from before, leaning forward as you didn’t trust your stability anymore as you threw your arms around his neck and pressed your tits into his chest. You breathed in Sukuna’s scent as you felt a hand slide to your lower back to follow the dip it made whenever your hips rolled, hoping that perhaps more contact with him would help you reach that level of euphoria you had been feeling from before, but alas you still couldn’t find the means of it. And with Sukuna only letting you use him and not making movements below to help, it wasn’t what you wanted.

It wasn’t enough. Your movements weren’t enough to get yourself off and they weren’t enough to get Sukuna off either. The slow way you were riding him told the tale of your inexperience, and Sukuna knew you wouldn’t be able to take the gentle coaxing the way his cock slid along inside of your pussy almost dreamily, softly and filling you warmth, all of that doing nothing for you. You needed the burn you felt from before whenever he had bit into your neck, when his claws had scratched at your hip, when his hand had curled around your neck to choke you. You needed a pinch of that pain that bloomed into a rose of pleasure, born from decrepit soil inhibiting curses and thorns that your mother had warned you about ever touching.

You needed him. You needed him in way you knew you could only have him.

You had to tell him.

Pulling away from his neck you leant back, duly noting Sukuna’s position and expression had not changed, still the same smug look from before whenever you started to bounce on his cock with his fist propping his cheek up. Your clit was throbbing and your orgasm was even further away, making a point to sigh and flutter your eyelashes in hopes he bit the bait better, “I need you.”

“Me? You’re the one bouncing on my cock as you please, what more could you possibly want?” Despite his knack to remain nonchalant to your beg, you could see it in the way his eyes lightened up; the slight shift in his expression morphing into something downright unnerving for a brief moment. You had seen that expression once before, whenever he had killed someone right in front of you and got the glee out of watching them ultimately surrender to him before they died. However, Sukuna made no indications he was ready to tear into your body (not in the hungry sense at least), so it only fueled you further as confidence seeped into your veins like hot honey. His eyebrows furrowed down harder at the expression on your face, yet his grin only grew, teeth sharper than you would’ve ever dared to try and fight back towards, and a malevolent intent brightening his eyes, “More. Tell me more.”

The heat from his cock was searing inside of you, sitting snugly within your cunt like it was made to fit there and heavy each time you moved only an inch, and it was hard to ignore the way he was twitching and seemingly growing hotter by the minute the more you kept him inside of you. You squeezed around him once more to test how far you push at it, watching as he only slowly blinked at you in a challenge and letting be known that toying with him like that would only get you so far. It was warning really, but you weren’t keen on caring as you pushed yourself forward into his face, lips skimming his as he had done you earlier before let a hand trail up to touch the protruding part of his face in gentle caress, moving to trace his lips whenever he was only sat still below you. You grew bolder, giving in and pressing a short kiss to his bottom lip and sighing in his face dreamily.

He visibly was affected by that; a slight eye widen and twitch from his cock again.

“I want you to fuck me. Make me yours, Sukuna. I can take it and you have me, so please –”

Sukuna abruptly stiffened with a growl, the hold on your hips turning to bruising and stinging as his nails began to dig through your flesh and draw blood. You watched all of his eyes flare open, his pupils shrinking until nothing remained but a small, dark spot and his iris burning like an inferno as they only seemed to glow brighter as you back off of his face, thinking perhaps you may have went too far in pushing your luck with Sukuna. Your heart may have matched the storming in his eyes as he seemed to look past you for a moment again, like he wasn’t seeing you altogether as an assortment of emotions flashed over his face making you all the more anxious.

His mouth had curled up in a sneer, his teeth sharped than ever than you knew could tear you to pieces, before you watched a flicker of astonishment and vehemence fill his expression, but they were quickly diminished just as fast as they had come and replaced completely with something else. Sukuna’s pupils sharply enlarged again, the crimson nearly engulfed as cruel determination erupted across his entire body, his eyes holding nothing but a horrifying intent and pure hunger. His cock inside of you throbbed once, your mouth opening to apologize for perhaps overstepping your boundaries when Sukuna’s hand that been resting of his cheek shot towards you, his fingers flexed and spread apart as he caught ahold of your throat once more in a hard squeeze.

His arms on your hips shot up around your back and pinned you down to the front of him, your tits smashing ruthlessly against his own broad chest shooting a thrilling jolt tickling your spine as you inhaled sharply from the close contact. However, whatever you thought to say or even tried to do dissipated into mere mush the moment Sukuna pressed against your throat harder and used the momentum to bring you in for a devouring kiss.

Sukuna was kissing you. If you weren’t in the predicament you were in, you would’ve let out a girlish squeal in embarrassment.

Though a squeal did leave you from how rough the kiss seemed be, Sukuna wasting no time to bite fervently at your lips to give him access to the expanse of your mouth, that sinful tongue of his mapping out what it could of your own and completely dominating you in that aspect. You let him, his teeth clashing hard against your own and the coppery taste of your blood pooling in your mouth before he swiped all that up with that serpentine tongue, Sukuna leaving no room for you to even try to take a breath or make a move against him. It should have disgusted you, having such a monster kissing you like he was, but you couldn’t find the means to even find a seldom thought to think in clarity whenever Sukuna was completely consuming you.

You were expecting it though – Sukuna’s breakthrough since he had the upper hand – yet it still managed to surprise you all the less when you were preoccupied thinking about his kiss. He stirred beneath you, his thighs flexing and his hips rocking up once in an experiment, before he roughly drove up into you further enough to make you squawk into his mouth that he greedily swallowed whole driving your tongue down still with his own. Your body shook, that spark of rough treatment making your cunt pulse in anticipation as he repeated the action once more with more vigor, picking up a devastating pace that had you bouncing in his hold and the water surrounding you both beginning to splash out from his intensity as he held you down to his content and fucked up into you as he pleased.

Sukuna broke away from you mouth with a hiss and let up on the choking for the time being, swiping the blood free coating his mouth and a wide grin on his face when you took in your expression before shoving a particular hard thrust in your pussy that slammed against your innermost regions and reveling in the way you openly moaned and fell forward to hook your chin over his shoulder. You couldn’t focus on the moon behind you both, your body jostling harshly in his hold blurring your vision as Sukuna fucked you like he wanted nothing more than to completely drill his cock so far deep into you it carved a hole for him and his cock alone. And you were content to let it happen, Sukuna taking note of that as he chuckled condescendingly and you felt his nails skim along your spine.

“Mm, you’re an atrocious kisser, I suppose I can account it though for you virginity – or your lack of now,” he hotly whispered in your ear, his tongue making a reappearance to flick at your ear while he sounded not the least bit affected from his actions.

You bit down onto his shoulder to keep the comeback subdued from him insulting you once more, a hum vibrating throughout his chest at the friction it caused and moaned into his skin. Your hands found purchase on his back, scratching at the skin of what you could as drool began to escape your mouth from the way you were getting mercilessly fucked, and all the while Sukuna only continued to drive up into you and listen the gasping noises that left your mouth.

You managed to say one thing however, a garbled variation of his name that you had to gasp for between each syllable in the same wavelength his thrusting was going.

“Su – ku – na –”

You wondered if the sigh you heard was of your imagination, though you could hardly deny it when afterwards he used the hold he had on your neck to push you back into his line of sight, laughing at your fucked out face and the hand on your tit bouncing along to keep up with toying with your swollen nipple. “Don’t run and hide from me now, you looked like you were enjoying yourself… No need to be shy, you just needed to get fucked, didn’t you?” he drawled out in a purr, that damnable tongue on his abdomen returning to lick at your clit again while he made you look him in eye.

Your pussy pulsed hotly, all your nerves going haywire from the attention your body was receiving from Sukuna, and you used what you could of your muscles to squeeze him of what you could. That slight discomfort was back, your insides getting thoroughly tossed around from the way his cock slammed up into you and he forced you to take it all without a second doubt. You tried to meet him as you went, that band behind your naval continuing to grow and grow in a dangerous vortex, clenching your cunt around him and trying to rock your hips whenever that tongue lapped at you in a slower pace all the while only giving choked gasps as the form of your pleasure.

His thumb tapped your neck, his pace picking up a fraction when he noticed the way you were trying to meet him with a roll down from your hips, and Sukuna’s composure slightly began to slip again. “This body…” he started out, that calm in his voice turning raspy with an underlining growl, “You… A pleaser, aren’t you? You should’ve thought this through, human, this body is mine now – you are mine now. There’s no running away from me.”

His words made a round of fluids soak him up further, your stomach twisting at the idea of Sukuna claiming you as his own, and you arched wantonly into him with your head falling back into your shoulder blades and your eyes rolling back into your skull. You could still faintly hear the sound of the water splashing and the resounding noise of your skin slapping together, though you could hardly focus when all you wanted was to appease Sukuna – be it by your body, or your words.

“I don’t care,” you whined out, sliding your hands down to his thick, roped muscle of biceps on the top pair of his arms, “I’m yours – take it – take me, please.”

You could hear Sukuna’s breathing get rougher, around the same time his hold on you got tighter and his pace get rougher as he slid his hands down to your lower back, arching you deliciously as your body began to lean back when his own leaned forward. He was borderline growling from his chest, a groan choked up in there as he slapped your breast again before pinching your nipple harshly, “How sweet of you, it’s a shame you didn’t realize the moment I saw you that you were already mine. Virginal, village girl too dumb for any rational thoughts comes to me for salvation, how could I pass that up?” A grunt passed through his lips as he began to weigh back down onto your throat, “If only they could see you now… taking my cock like a whore and begging me to make you mine… What would they think about their precious girl then?”

He was possessive, and God, you loved it. Your head was spinning as you spoke, not entirely too sure what you were saying, but not caring since all you wanted was to hear him talk. “They don’t – matter… Only you – matter to me – Master.”

“Maybe I’ll let you visit them,” he hissed, disregarding what you had said as the hand on your throat squeezing harder to completely cut off your airway for a moment. The black dots clouding your vision and your lungs shriveling in on themselves not enough to stop the pleasure coursing throughout you as he bent your back further, your head and back skimming the surface of the water while he continued to still fuck into you at a brutal pace. “Let all those meat sacks see the communal marriage candidate and what she’s become… Then I’ll fuck you right in front of everyone so they know you whore yourself out for me now. Make sure they watch the cum seep out of you when I’m done before I fuck you wherever else I please.”

You couldn’t even moan at that, though your cunt squeezing him as hard as it could told him everything, a boisterous laugh that formed into a snarl reaching your ears as the water in the bath sloshed around dangerously and high enough to splash out onto the floor above you two. Sukuna let up on your throat enough for you to take a ragged breath, your body jostling from his ferocious fucking and roughly handling you like you were nothing but a doll letting you moan a jumbled variation of his name when it felt like he was completely tearing your guts apart. He hissed again at your whine, his cock pulsing inside of you burning and a buzz of energy enveloping you both before he mouthing off again what he’d continue to do to you.

“How about your poor husband-to-be? I’ll find him for you, then I’ll force him to watch me fuck you at his feet before I gut him and he can watch you get fucked again as he slowly dies.” You clenched around him again at the idea, inhumane and disturbing perhaps to a normal person, but to you a fantasy in the making if it was Sukuna. Jealousy looked good on him, and the fact he was jealous over you and something far in the past? You dug nails into his forearms and squeezed him again, gasping each time his cock slammed up against your cervix as he huffed again and slapped your tit, “Fucking whore, you love that idea… I knew someone like you liked being fucked like this… how fun you are.”

Your eyes rolled behind your eyelids, stomach in knots with heat pooling into your lower abdomen as your pussy pulsed with each thrust he threw back into you. The discomfort was still present, but only a faint tingle, the overwhelming ecstasy shooting up through your legs and up your spine doing the most work for you and sending you careening down into euphoria further than you could’ve ever imagined. You could only gasp and whine as he continued to completely ruin your body, your eyes fluttering open the moment you felt an abrupt change in the atmosphere and a strange silence fill the air.

What greeted you was the lanterns flickering throughout the room, the moon waning away into nothing but darkness as the scenery changed to something you had never seen before and something disturbingly horrifying. Gone was the serene night inside of Sukuna’s Onsen, the pretty stars highlighting the midnight sky with the creamy moon shining down on the Earth, instead a darkened cave-like structure with what you could make out to be a giant ribcage of a long dead beast above you and a cesspool of crimson below you before you trailed your eyes back up to the man you knew was responsible for the sudden shift, sitting atop a large pile of skulls from different animals and humans as he only continued to fuck you through whatever he had done. You could only see his lower body from the lack of light, shrouded in fluorescent red watching his cock disappear and reappear into you while that tongue swirled your swollen clit with its tip, a cruel smile on the mouth atop his abdomen before you threw your head back and let yourself be used.

An invasion in your mind made you wince, an abundance of emotions hitting you all at once with variations of heightened arousal, vicious intent and clear signs of an acute sense of fondness. You weren’t sure if they were even your own, nor did you get time to even ponder on it a Sukuna abruptly changed the way he was going to fuck you. You gaped with a choked gasp, gazing sightlessly at the everlasting darkness when Sukuna gripped your hips as hard as he dared to without completely crumbling your pelvis, using your body suspended in the air from his lap as leverage to pull you onto his cock, bordering on violent to how he was fucking you but you could only seem to fall deeper into your release as it went.

The raw flesh of your pussy came to life the more it went on, vision nearly growing hazy as you dug your nails into Sukuna’s arms as hard as you could and your moans became nothing but choked pants and gasps. He was so deep inside of you… his cock reaching a place you didn’t think was humanly possible before his hand on your tits left it to press down on your lower abdomen, enjoying the way you squealed and squirmed underneath him whenever he pushed his cock further into you.

“I can feel your pussy squeezing me, I can feel your body giving in. Are you about to cum for me?” Sukuna spoke heatedly and full of malice, though it was also sultry and full of desire, the smile present on his face you could tell by the way words rolled off of his tongue. He choked you harder until you stiffened, your pussy securing him tightly inside of you and a long drawn-out moan leaving you.

“Oh, God,” you whimpered, shutting your eyes once more as you only focused on the way your muscles along your abdomen were contracting and uncontracting in the same fashion your pussy was pulsing. You were close; so so so close.

A bark of manic laughter made you moan whenever his cock jumped from it, Sukuna’s hand leaving your throat to grasp at your face instead to peel your eye open with two fingers, “Look around you, girl. No use calling for that name, not when your entire soul is now mine,” he let go of your eye and cupped your cheek, the tongue on his abdomen hurriedly licking at your clit as Sukuna returned to fucking you instead at a frenzied pace, his growling growing louder and his voice becoming raspier by the second, “Fucking – you’re gonna scream for me. Let everyone know who you belong to and who’s the only person that can fuck you like this forever. Say it and I’ll fuck you full of my cum.”

He was close. Right along the same abyss of a dark path as you were to pleasure.

“What do you want?” he hissed.

You could only manage a mumble, “I wanna cum.”

His hips smacked into you. “Louder. Say it.”

The reaction was instantaneous, your muscles bunching up, eyes watering as the pressure in your cunt grew tenfold, his rough movements, and your rapidly approaching orgasm let the words flow freely from your mouth.

“Sukuna, please, I wanna cum! Just –” a louder whine fell out of you when he pushed you down in retaliation for more of your pleas, struggling to take his hard thrusts as you finally felt yourself let go and felt your cunt gush and squeeze one last time as you rambled the rest of your begs in a high-pitched cry.

“More.”

“I’m yours, Sukuna! Lemme cum – I’ll do anything! I want you to cum inside me so much I can’t hold it… I want you to cumin me so much there’s no way I don’t get pregnant –”

Your sentence trailed off as a snarling groan took over the sound all sound there was and his pace kicked into a destructive speed, a distorted curse spitting off his tongue as something popped and a shuttering noise flew into your ears while the inside of you felt briefly stunned from the action. After that, your body was suddenly uncoiling itself in the throes of your orgasm with a screaming plea of his name.  

Your cunt constricted around his cock in a poor effort to hold on, but the action had you spasming in one of the most intense orgasms you had ever experienced. The others paled in comparison from those late nights fingering yourself at the thought of him, your body feeling electrified from the intensity of it and your limbs jerking to find any part of his body to hold on to as you rushed through it. You didn’t know why your cunt and his dick felt like they were buzzing and vibrating from the release, but the heightened stimulation had you squirming throwing your head back as far as you could with a gaping mouth and eyes spinning into your mind while the hairs on your body rose from the change in the atmosphere. You were well aware you had gushed all over his cock as your legs jerked from the pleasure, and in the back of your mind you were only vaguely aware that he was still fucking you.

You nearly felt numb, throat feeling raw and horribly dry from the amount of screaming you had done as your body still bounced from his ravenous thrusts while you came down from that high in tremors. The drool from your mouth was something you didn’t notice, your fingers held onto his wrists instead and your legs shook, but none of that mattered when Sukuna groaned aloud, his hand cupping the back of your head before his follow-up snarl was devastating, his hand heaving you upwards back into his lap to sit you upright. You didn’t have time to register what he was doing until he viced his teeth back down onto your neck, the bite harsh and his thrusting gone savage while he fought through to his own release.

Sukuna had left you feeling spent and exhausted, legs quivering in their place as your moans fell into huffing noises with your body falling lack in his tight hold as Sukuna only hissed, snarled and groaned his way to finally giving you both what you asked for. The gush of air and energy you felt sparked around you two one last time, expanding throughout wherever you two were as the last of his composure leaving him whenever he pushed up into you with a ferocious jab that fluttered your pussy and a long-uttering satisfied groan vibrated the entire space.

Your eyes spun back as your mouth gaped when you felt the warm spurts of his cum shoot inside of your awaiting cunt and literally stuff you full as a feeling of mild electrification prickled the hair on your body. It nearly felt as if he never was going to stop, the new heat in your pussy sliding throughout the inside of you. You could feel from the thick girth of the liquid passing through your cervix and into your wombs as Sukuna’s hips rocked slowly with each new spray into you until finally he came to a full stop with his cock sitting snugly inside of you to hold all of his cum in your cunt for the time being. His fingers flexed as they returned to both grasping your hips with a hissing exhale that you felt deep into your stomach when he released his neck, and meanwhile you tried to force your mind and body to leave that fucking high and try to at least find yourself into some clarity from probably the best fucking and orgasms you had ever felt.

With your face tucked into his shoulder you felt comforted, closing your eyes for a brief moment as Sukuna relinquished parts of his hold on you, maintaining the hold in your hips however as he sunk back into a relaxed position. You reopened your eyes when you felt him hit a stop, the scenery of the Onsen greeting you once more as you slid down his body in fatigue, legs useless and body beginning to feel the effects of your tryst. You had half a mind to ask him what had happened (and how you felt his emotions), but you put it away for the time as Sukuna seemed like a content cat not wanting to bothered anymore for the day. However you did wiggle in his grasp, feigning a means to get comfortable as you grimaced from the tall-tale sign of the mess he had made of you; a goopy-like substance painting you both that you could nearly hear squish whenever you finally settled down to where you wanted to be.

You only hoped Sukuna didn’t mind, biting your cheek and keeping your chin tucked to your chest to avoid his eyes as you rested your head onto his chest. You held it there for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut in case he said anything, but once a few moments passed and you could only hear his breathing, you listened intently. Fighting through your own thundering heartbeat wracking around in your brain and ears, you could hear it, and it lit up a light inside of you the moment you heard the first thump.

A heartbeat.

More importantly, Sukuna’s heartbeat.

It was steady, perhaps beating slower than average, but it was still there.

The magma inside of you had gone quite; no more burning or bubbling in the danger of erupting, instead in its place heavy igneous rocks shimmering with perhaps a gem inside from your turbulent emotions finally being put to rest. It was comforting as it weighed you down, content to say in Sukuna’s presence as long as he allowed you and devote what you could to him as he needed be.

You could feel your cheeks warm, easing more into his body as you finally felt him stretch underneath you, then he was sighing like he was hurt. “Do you think me a monster so much you look to see if I have a heart?” he asked with a tease, a finger dipping into the water next to your hip to circle it around in the seldom that he may have been bored.

You were thankful he couldn’t see your expression, for he would’ve seen the embarrassment written all over it from you being caught red-handed over something so silly. With your cheek squished against his bulging pectoral, you answered, “No, I just didn’t know if curses had one…” God, you hoped he didn’t get offended by that.

He did not, a snort reaching your ears before he flicked your forehead, “I would not be sitting here as we speak if I did not. My heart is still intact much like your own feeble, little organ, though it’s ways stronger than yours as well, little human.”

Sukuna could not go ten minutes without gloating apparently.

You rolled your eyes safely out of his sight, fully prepared to just remain resting on him until he told you to get off of him or something, until he shifted again and you felt the organ connecting you two suddenly stir. You nearly felt like your pelvis was shifting again (God, you weren’t going to be walking straight for days) and had to keep from squawking again whenever his cock hardened while remaining inside of you. It popped and you hissed, trying to rise up to pull him out of you, but Sukuna was steadfast keeping you in his lap and his cock snugly inside.

“Owww,” you whined, pulling away from his chest to hold onto his shoulders while you mewled whenever he gave a sharp thrust inwards once more.

Sukuna grinned, nails digging into your hips and a cackle on his tongue, “You complain now? You’re an odd one, and part of me thinks you quite like some pain. Got myself a masochistic whore, do I?”

“I’m not – Mmmm, Sukuna,” you broke into a sigh, breath hitching and body coming back to life for pleasure whenever he started to play with your nipples again. Surely not he was prepared to go again… You knew he had stamina, but from the way he had fucked you… “But you just –”

Sukuna tsked, one hand leaving your hip to tweak at your clit and humming whenever bucked onto him, “You should know better than to think I was done with you –”

Your world abruptly spun again, one second looking into Sukuna’s shit-eating smirk, and the next you were facing the wall he had been propped up against, your hands gripping the rocks placed there and your body bent over. The only thing keeping your legs from giving out was Sukuna’s new grip on you, guiding your hips back so that your ass met his pelvis and his thighs slapped against your own, and his cock suddenly reentering you with little to no friction due to the amount of cum from both of you still inside of you made you gasp at how fast he did it. Fucking back onto him out of a bodily reaction, he laughed, a hand coming down to slap your ass before he gave one heavy thrust into you, the new angle reaching a deeper spot and starbursts breaking out in your vision.

“Look at you, already used to it. You and I are making up for lost time… I’ll fuck you like a bitch first, then I’ll make good use of that mouth.”

You could only moan, back arching deliciously and fingers turning into a white-knuckled grip on the rocks in front of you, and your thoughts could only focus on the fact you had a long night ahead of you whenever his hand slammed down on your back for a deeper arch and his skin began to slap into yours in the sinful melody of your communion.

[roastedoatmilk]

Lunch Box Scandal

Kento Nanami x Gn! Reader

Summary: Someone seems to be packing Nanami’s lunch for him and Gojo is determined to figure out who it is.

Word Count: 1.2k

Tags: the most tooth rotting fluff, mentions of satosugu, gojo needs a hug he's also a little shit in this, nanami being insanely whipped for his partner

This is also on ao3 !!

Little Things Masterlist here

Kento Nanami sighs as he walks into the faculty room, lunch box in hand, Gojo had been on his nerves all day pestering him over the smallest things. Sitting down at the farthest table from the door Kento sets his lunch box onto the table wondering what you had prepared for him for his lunch that day. Unlatching the buckle holding the tin box closed Kento hears the door to the room open and then quickly close again, he inwardly groans knowing exactly who had just entered the room.

“Nanamin!” Gojo cheered, “not having lunch by yourself, are you?” Making his way over to the table that the blond man was at and plopping down into the seat closest to him.

Kento tries his hardest to ignore the 6 '3 man child and opens the lid to his lunch box finally getting a view of what you had packed for him that morning. A small smile comes to the man’s face when he sees the effort you put into his lunch. The rice balls molded to be shaped like penguins each one having a different little face, the sausages cut to be shaped like octopuses, the eggs made out to be a duck with little faces, and a star shaped carrot placed over his peas. Taped to the lid of the box is a little note in your handwriting that says “You’re my Honey Bee” with a tiny drawing of two bees underneath it. As he was reading the note he could feel the gaze of a certain blindfolded man on him.

Sighing, Kento turns to the white haired man and asks, “Yes Satoru?” trying his hardest to make it look like your note didn’t affect him.

Gojo didn’t buy it for one second, a wicked grin on his face. Snatching the note from the top of the lunch box before he could say anything, Gojo brings the note closer to him and reads it before laughing, Kento just groans knowing what’s coming next.

“Awwww Nanami I didn’t realize you were the type to like being called such sweet pet names, I always took you for the type to hate them.” Gojo commented before continuing with “Maybe I should start calling you Honey Bun.”

Kento glared at the white haired man while he angrily munched on one of the rice balls that you had packed him, it was delicious as usual. You always insisted on waking up early to pack his lunch for him even though he has told you countless times that it isn't necessary. Gojo eyes the food curiously taking in the presentation of it.

“Hold on now Nanamin, who exactly packed this lunch for you?” The white haired man questions noticing how much effort was put into the lunch.

Gojo likes to think that he knows Nanami well enough at this point and he is certain that the stoic man wouldn’t put this much effort into his own lunch instead opting to buy a sandwich from a local convenience store and call it a day. Kento sighs not really wanting to tell Gojo about you, not because he was ashamed of you, that's not the case at all. Instead, it’s because he knew that the second the special grade sorcerer knew of your existence, he would never hear the end of it. Popping one of the sausages in his mouth the blond chews as slow as he possibly could to avoid answering the question.

Gojo groans at this before chirping “Come on now Nanami you can tell me anything.” to prove his point Gojo props up his head with the palms of his hands to signal that he’s paying attention.

Kento exhaled heavily before wiping his mouth with a spare napkin, turning his head away from Gojo he finally mumbles “Mypartnermakesmylunchforme.” saying it so quietly that Gojo wasn’t able to catch it.

“Nanamiiiii speak up. I may have six eyes, but my hearing isn't the best in my old age.” Gojo retorts, chuckling at his own joke.

Kento turns his head to face the lanky white haired man, a bright red painting his freckled face and his ears. Taking a deep breath the blond finally says, “My partner makes my lunch for me, now that’s quite enough Satoru I’d like to finish my lunch in peace.”

The second Gojo hears the word partner he perks up immediately, questions racing through his head. He takes in the look on his junior’s face, the red painting his cheeks and ears, the look in his eye as he reads the note you left him over again. In all of his years knowing the man, not once had Gojo seen him look like this. Instead of teasing the blond Gojo nods his head in understanding.

“They must be a really great person to have you looking like this.” Gojo says softly remembering the only person to ever make him look like the blond did now, causing Kento to look up at him.

“They’re the best person I know, they make me a better man.” Kento stated as if it was a fact, the love the man had for you was obvious.

Kento reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, opening it up and turning it towards the special grade sorcerer. Inside one of the main parts was a photo of a person looking directly into the camera, a bright smile lighting up their face. Flour covering their entire being smeared all across their face and clothes, some of it even making it into their hair. Kento smiles fondly at the photo remembering how you both had attempted to try a new recipe which ended in the both of you covered in the ingredients barely any of it making it into the bowl. The blond takes the photo out of the wallet and hands it to Gojo.

“This was the result of the first and last time the two of us tried to bake something together,” Kento explained “We came to realize that we don’t make a good team in the kitchen, more flour ended up on us than in the bowl.” The smile on his freckled face grew the longer he looked at the photo.

Gojo could feel the beginnings of tears welling up in his eyes, thankfully hidden behind his blindfold. The white haired man felt so happy that his junior had found his person, thinking about when he lost his own person all those years ago. Clearing his throat Gojo composes himself and says to the man next to him “Your secret is safe with me, don’t worry.”

Hearing the man say this briefly shocked Kento before he nods his head in thanks, placing the photo of you back in its rightful place in his wallet. Reaching for one of the rice balls he breaks it in half and gives a piece to Gojo, not saying a word as he does so. The two men sit in silence as they eat, a mutual understanding between them.

When Kento returns home that night he asks if it would be too much trouble for you to pack a sweet in his lunch for the future. You nod with a small smile on your face knowing that your lover isn’t a sweets fan but that a certain white haired sorcerer is.

A/N hiya !!! this is part one of a mini series that i’m working on i hope y’all enjoy :3 reader will be having a bigger appearance in the later parts !!!

[teamatsumu]

compression. (sakusa kiyoomi x reader)

summary: atsumu is the perfect person to feed your obsession with kiyoomi’s arms.

word count: 1172

warnings: swearing, very mildly suggestive (if you squint), detailed descriptions of kiyoomi’s arms in compression sleeves so it’s not for the faint hearted

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

When you studied Marketing and Communications in university, you didn’t exactly anticipate that your future would include you managing a V League Division 1 sports team. But every day when you went into work, you thanked the gods above that this is where your career path had led you, because that meant you could ogle Sakusa Kiyoomi and his infamous compression sleeves all day.

Oftentimes you were certain Kiyoomi didn’t mean anything by them. For him, they were practical. They kept his arms taut and ready for the ball. They made his movements sharper. He received the ball better. He didn’t have to feel his bare skin on the dirty court. These were all reasons you had heard straight out of his mouth. When you heard him mention them so nonchalantly, it almost made you feel bad for the absolutely sinful- borderline deranged- thoughts you had in your head about the way those sleeves made his arms look.

You were well aware of the kind of thoughts Kiyoomi’s choice of athletic wear caused among his fans. To put it simply and bluntly, they went feral over it. There were whole Twitter accounts dedicated to just his arms, or his chest. And as someone who often managed social media profiles for some of the members, you got to see the most unhinged of these comments with your own two eyes. And you would be the first to (secretly) admit that you agreed with 90% of what was being said, because holy shit did those sleeves do something to you.

Most of the time during practice, you could feel your eyes drift back over to the man in question, wearing a black sports tee and those godforsaken sleeves, working up quite the set as they played set after set to prepare for their next game. As the hours passed, Kiyoomi would get more and more disheveled, curls becoming unruly enough that he would grab a towel, biceps flexing as he ran it over the nape of his neck and dipped into the collar of his shirt. Christ almighty.

You should’ve known that you would eventually get caught. But if it was anyone who would notice, you had expected it to be Meian or maybe Coach Foster. But the person who did bring it up to you happened to be the biggest nightmare in this scenario; Miya Atsumu.

“Ya should be a little less obvious ‘bout it.” He commented when he trudged over to the bench where you sat, grabbing a water bottle and beginning to chug. You tore your eyes from Kiyoomi who now had his back to you, the muscles under his shirt flexing with every movement. You raised an eyebrow at the blond, not yet correlating his words with your hidden obsession. He placed the bottle down and placed a hand on his hip, giving you a knowing smirk.

“A blind grandma could notice the way yer lookin’ at him.”

Your eyes widened and cheeks flamed when he nudged his head in Kiyoomi’s direction, and you knew you had been caught. You clenched your jaw hard.

“You say a single word-”

He threw his hands up as if in surrender, effectively silencing your threat in its tracks.

“I won’t, promise! But there is one thing…..”

You groaned loudly, throwing your head back. Of course, of fucking course he would blackmail you with this.

“What do you want?” You deadpanned, glaring at him and preparing for the worst.

Atsumu looked a bit affronted, as if the mere insinuation that he might want something was preposterous to him. You gave him another tired look, until he sighed and gave up, plopping down heavily on the bench next to you.

“A phone number. Ya know that cute girl who comes by once a month? From the Volleyball Association?”

“No.”

Atsumu’s mouth dropped like a child who just got slapped. “Hey c’mon! Ya didn’t even hear me out!”

You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling a characteristic frontal headache begin to build, courtesy of Miya Atsumu. “I’m tired of setting you up with people, Tsumu! It won’t end well, as always-”

“I’ll get you a picture of Omi with his compression sleeves.”

You give him an unimpressed look. “I can get hundreds of those off the internet.”

“I’ll get you a picture of Omi with just his compression sleeves.”

That made you halt in your tracks. You searched Atsumu’s face for any form of mockery or lie, and you found none. Your eyebrows shot up when you realized he was being serious.

“In the locker room. I can get it for ya today.”

Oh my god. Instinctively, your eyes darted over to the man in question, who was talking to Hinata about something. It looked like volleyball tips since he had his arms before him in a receiving position, and Hinata was rapidly nodding to what he was saying.

“No.” You shook your head. “No, that’s wrong.”

“I’ll take a selfie with him, yeah? He will know there’s a photo. And I can send it in the groupchat.”

You look back at Atsumu, seriously contemplating his offer. He kept yapping, as per usual, thinking that the more he talked, the likelier it would be to convince you. And the bastard was right, it was working.

“No one else will bat an eye. We see each other in the lockers all the time. No big deal.”

You bit your lip in thought. The possibility of seeing Kiyoomi shirtless and only in compression sleeves had your pulse rising.

“And you just want her number in return?”

Atsumu nodded eagerly. You gave him a narrow-eyed glare.

“Send the picture. Then I will give you the number.”

His triumphant grin made it feel like he had already won. “Deal.”

That evening, when your phone pinged with a text notification, you nearly flew across the bed to grab it, opening the picture Atsumu sent in the groupchat with eager fingers and freezing as soon as you laid eyes on it.

Atsumu had held up his end of the bargain spectacularly.

He had taken the picture with Kiyoomi a little further in the background, so he could get the man’s full torso in it. He was facing slightly away from the camera, but his face was turned towards it, capturing the scowl between his eyebrows and the little pout of his mouth. He was gloriously shirtless, still a bit sweaty from practice, and he held his shirt in his hand, one arm flexed as he held it while the other was held carelessly by his side, compression sleeves hugging the cords of toned muscles just right.

There was another ping, pulling you out of your trance and making you realize just how dry your mouth had gotten. Atsumu had messaged you privately.

“My payment? ;)”

You rolled your eyes and sent him the number, immediately going back to the picture and starring it for future reference, a tiny smile quirking up the corner of your lip as you did so.

[joelsdagger]

walk the line || one shot

masterlist | ao3

pairing: boston qz!joel x f!reader summary: you and joel have a deal: sex in exchange for supplies. no questions asked. so what happens when you do? or joel fucks you while you’re in a headlock. that’s pretty much it. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: boston qz era, undefined relationship, mentions of sexual favors, choking, rough unprotected p in v sex, dark!joel, mean!joel [in the sense that he doesn’t let her come oops :( ], dubcon [reader tries to loosen his grip], noncon [i’m putting this here just in case], no aftercare. think that’s it. word count: 1.2k

a/n: just….don’t ask. i don’t know what this is. thank you to @papurgaatika for holding a gun to my head so i would post this looking this over, love you schmooks <3 

please heed the tags. protect your peace if this isn’t for you.

He’s being rough. Rougher than the countless times he’s fucked you before. 

In the time since you and Joel started this whole arrangement, you never needed to tell him to fuck you at a blistering pace. He just did it. 

Because you and him are the same. He told you that once. He said that you and him are two sides of the same coin. Both of you are always keeping your walls up and people out. Always keeping everyone at arm’s length. It made this arrangement easy, simple. 

There was just one rule: Nothing personal. A rule you happily got on board with. Getting personal is not really your thing. You learned that it was easier to survive at the end of the world without having someone to care about. Staying detached worked for you. You didn’t care enough about Joel Miller to even bother giving him a second thought. 

At least, that’s what you wanted to believe. 

A few minutes ago, you made the mistake of doing just that. 

You got personal. Flicked open the glass casing and pushed the big red button. Nobody gets personal with Joel Miller. Most importantly, you don’t. No. Never you. And now he’s punishing you. Maybe he’s punishing himself too, because he didn’t stop you. Didn’t stop this.

He’s being brutal, intense, and mean. And usually you could handle it because, like plenty of times before, you wanted him to.

But this time, you didn’t.

Your cunt is sensitive, and it hurts; it burns more and more with every rough snap of his hips; warm liquid pricks at your eyes in discontent. Your swollen cunt betrays you, squeezes around his wide girth, and he grunts against the shell of your ear in response. You’re sure he thinks you're begging him for more. To him, the swift flutter of your cunt is a silent tell to pick up the pace. 

And he does. Relentlessly. 

With every unforgiving thrust of his hips, knocking the wind out of your lungs, and the firm hold of his forearm against your neck, compressing your throat, you were barely hanging on. Black spots spatter across your vision, and your eyes slip closed; tears of anguish streak down your cheeks.

It’s too much. You choke on a sob, and your hand comes up to his left arm, weakly tugging at it, attempting to make space between the crook of his elbow and your neck to suck in an ephemeral breath of air. 

Instead, he tightens his grip on you; his left arm pulls you into his chest, and his right hand moves heavily to the top of your head as he brutally fucks up into your throbbing hole. Your head dips back beneath his chin, and the crown of your skull stings as the plastic clip hanging out at the bottom of the valve of his gas mask digs into your scalp.

Your failure to follow his rule — his only rule — had pissed him off so immensely that he didn’t even waste a second to remove his mask.

His muffled voice cuts through the thick haze that took over your mind. “Stay,” he orders through gritted teeth, and you obey.

Because he’s teaching you a lesson.

With him, you mind your tongue.

With him, you do as you're told. 

With him, you don’t ask questions.

With him, you don’t get fucking personal. 

And with your head locked between both of his strong arms and his fat cock hammering your cunt, punching at your cervix — forcing himself in — he makes certain of that. Makes your mind go fucking blank. Because when your sloppy cunt is stuffed full of his cock, your mind goes fuzzy, and your body goes limp in his hold, you are in no position to question him. To pry. To challenge him. To fight him. A brutal, shattering reminder that Joel Miller calls the shots.

And Joel doesn’t say a word. Not this time. Not when he’s using your body as a way to cope with his anger — to get himself off. It’s all breathless groans and grunts that tell you your holes are enough to satisfy him. And for a moment, you can’t help but wonder if this is how he always saw you — a means to an end.

Maybe you felt the same way about him.

You don’t have time to dwell on it because then you feel it — he twitches inside your aching cunt, signaling his rapid release. He hisses as he pulls out of your wasted hole, his length bobs against the crease beneath your ass, smearing your sweaty skin with your mixed wet. His cock throbs against you as his seed spills onto your quivering legs, coating your inner thighs, and leaking onto the tattered, moth-eaten mattress. 

You whimper pathetically as his arms release you, and your shuddering form falls forward, crashing into the dusty mattress beneath you. Your chest heaves as your hand comes up to the column of your neck, your weak fingers pressing at the sharp, searing pang there. You don’t doubt your skin has already begun to smart. You cough profusely as your lungs fill with air, a humiliating attempt at catching your breath. 

Joel’s left hand comes down beside your head on the mattress, cushioning his fall as he hovers over you. He groans as his other hand replaces your cunt, and with every fast, wet pump of his fist, the pulsing tip bumps against your skin; his release now paints the small of your back.

A first. 

And in the back of your mind, you try telling yourself it’s his way of claiming you — that he still wants you after you stepped out of line. Your stomach lurches at the same time your cunt flutters at the thought. You’re not sure how you feel about it, but you do know you feel empty without him inside you. And other than what happened here, he typically makes you feel good. Leaves you satisfied before he chases his own release.

Today, he didn’t. He used your body as a means for punishment, and you let him. A penance. For crossing the line he told — you both agreed not to overstep. 

A few moments later, you’re pulling your distressed jeans over your cum-coated thighs while your glassy eyes watch Joel as he zips up his own, his eyes fixed on the molded wooden floor in front. “Joel,” your voice hoarse and raw. 

He peers up at you beneath his lashes, the sunlight clawing through the taped-up window catches on his eyes; the amber in his hazel irises glowering in the light. 

“It won’t happen again,” you whisper.

“No,” he leans forward, grabs his gas mask you didn’t notice he pulled off, and the orange pill bottle you were meant to deliver to him without sticking your nose where it didn’t belong, and he grunts while he moves to stand, “it won’t.” 

And only when his heavy footsteps fade down the dark hallway of the abandoned building on the outskirts of the QZ, leaving you alone to stare back at the pale, rotten wallpaper with a painful and pleading ache between your trembling legs, do you realize exactly why no one defies Joel fucking Miller.

[saintobio]

LUCIFER.

his fall was not from grace, yet in his descent, he found freedom—a kingdom of his own making, where he rules not with light, but with the shadows it casts. and you, unfortunate soul, are the sin that fuels his eternal reign.

♱ genre. gothic, dark romance, smut, angels/demons au, 18+

♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader

♱ tags. 5.2k wc. this fic will contain dark and twisted themes. please heed the warnings and proceed with proper discretion. demon!sylus, sylus is ooc, not set in lads universe, profanity, heavy sacrilege/blasphemy, catcalling, sadistic undertones, noncon/dubcon, toxic relationships, corruption, sex in church, dacryphilia, mentions of obsession, allusions to stockholm syndrome, yandere, fingering, unprotected sex, explicit smut.

��� notes. this is an old rewritten/reimagined fic of mine bcos i saw a theory abt sylus being a demon. and coincidentally, rewatching a season of lucifer only made my brain rot tenfold D; so if you've seen me post this fic before with another character, pretend you didn't >:D

Thunder grumbled as a flash of lighting struck through the dark blanket of twilight skies. The rumbling sound angrily resonated through the stretch of clouds as if the heavens were to wash away human sins that have long been plaguing this era of the 21st century. A shower of rain soon followed that started in huge droplets and later cascaded from the slate gray clouds like waterfall. 

Checking your old leather watch, it was only 6PM. It had been two hours since the power outage doomed the whole neighborhood because the utility poles were severely damaged after the hurricane ravaged the city yesterday. 

The thick soles of your boots landed heavily on the tessellated sidewalk with every step, holding your umbrella closer to seal you from the heavy rainfall. Your eyes followed the beads of rain that bounced off the cold cement as your mind wandered further than where your body could take you to. 

You had left Sylus sleeping in bed back in your shared apartment so you could walk around the city and drop by the church. It wasn’t like you sneaked out, but was only reluctant to let him know of your whereabouts because you didn’t want him to follow you around, especially to such a scared place like church. Before you left, however, you did ensure that his silver cross was still enclosed around his collar just for your sanity. 

It had been a while since you last visited the church. With the power out and nothing else to do, you decided it was the perfect time to visit the cathedral where you always made your most solemn prayers.

The streets were still in shambles, though. Road signages were sprawled on the sidewalk, branches were barely hanging off the trees—the city had vestiges of wreckage from the hurricane that emptied a usually busy metropolitan area today. Most people were still at the leisure of their homes as work and classes have been suspended until further notice, for everyone’s safety and to allow the government to clean the roads. 

You could already imagine Sylus shaking his head at your resistance to just stay indoors and simply be with him. The only reason you were confident to leave his side today was because it had been awhile since the last incident. You could live with the thought of coming back home to Sylus and his usual self. Sylus, who was always thoughtful and tenderhearted albeit his dominant exterior. Never did you think that you could land a man of such warmth—a year in two days—but how you met was a story made for another day. 

Amidst the already dismal atmosphere outside, stepping by the narthex inside the baroque church greeted you with an even more caliginous surrounding. Darkness enshrouded the interiors of your chosen place of worship with only as much as three paschal torches by the apse to light up the altar. Still, with God’s presence, your feet carried you in slow footsteps along the velvet red aisle as you made your way towards the nave. 

You were alone in the eerie cathedral, but fear did not consume as you were in attendance to the crucifix above the high altar. This was your favorite cathedral among all the others in the city simply because of its gothic Victorian architecture.

Fixed with the cathedral’s grandeur and bedight with ornate decorations, you became more comfortable at situating yourself by the pew—genuflecting on the elevated wood behind the stretch of oak benches as soon as you found your usual spot. 

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,” you whispered in sotto voce, performing a sign of the cross with your eyes glued to the crucifix that represented Jesus Christ. You had your elbows propped atop the bench as you silently prayed. 

Loving and gracious God, with all love and mercy, we thank you for blessing us with another day and protecting us in times of natural disaster. 

You wanted to ignore the unusual cold air that slithered on your skin in horripilation. Your prayer resumed despite the Stygian gloom that darkened the cathedral’s interior or the sound of the harsh wind slamming through the towering doors by the vestibule. The storm is coming again, you mentally noted. 

With your grace and kindness, Lord, I pray that you will continue to guide us—

The manly fleer echoing through the vacantness of the church made you halt from your recital. “I knew my cute church girl would be here.” 

You knew that devilish voice all too well that it had you shutting your eyes, petrified. No wonder the air felt sinister. But if your gut-feeling about him was right, then there was no need to be frightened. “Sylus, I’m in the middle of a prayer,” you hushed, although before you could turn around to face his silhouette, he had already transported to your side with a wicked smile plastered on his pallid face. 

“I’m not him,” he spoke in an orotund voice, stepping closer and closer. His ash blond hair did not hide his incarnadine eyes. “Stop looking for that runt when you’re with me.” 

You stepped out of the pew with a rapid heartbeat, standing by the aisle as the tall man towered over you. “S-Sylus, where’s your—” you searched for his silver cross and found it still hanging around his neck, “did you break it?” 

He glowered at your accusation. “You know I would if I could, sweetie.” 

You exhaled a deep sigh. This was not Sylus, this was the malevolent demon inside of him. You ought to be cautious of yourself. “Okay, well... Leave me alone. I’m praying.”

“Ordering me around?” Each step that he took reverberated across the cathedral. He stretched his head from side-to-side in a manner that showed his ennui. “Don’t you miss me, kitten?” 

There was no stopping to the loud thumping of your heart as you stood along the aisle with Sylus backing you off further to the center. “Sylus, I said not now,” you begged, but he refused to listen and only wiped his lower lip with his thumb. 

“I hate it when you make me wait,” he muttered, stepping forward until your lower back hit the credence table at the altar. You found yourself trapped in a decreasing distance between yourself and the sadistic devil in front of you. “Don’t look so scared. We do this every time.” 

“I’m not scared, but...” Your voice was getting softer, yet filled with fret. You pressed a hand on his chest as he locked your body with both arms around the table. “Please, not here.”

You had to be firm, you just had to be but you couldn’t muster the courage to fight back in Sylus’s presence. He was the embodiment of power and you were the representation of weakness. 

He was a demon that thrived on sin, and he drew strength from indulging in the seven deadly sins. Vainglory, greed, lust, envy, gluttony, wrath, sloth—all of those fueled his existence. Today, however, it was the third sin that consumed him, the one that ignited his darkest sexual desires. 

“I’ll be quick,” he bargained, undoing the upper buttons of your dress despite your failed attempts at pushing him away. Doing it at such a place! You sent him a glare but he only returned a sly smile. “How about we show your God what you’re really like underneath that maidenly exterior, hm? Show him how dirty you really are?”

God, help me. You desperately shook your head, now overthinking if someone could see what he was about to do to you in this holy sanctuary. Long before you could cover your chest, he already pinned your wrist on the side as he lowered the fabric to show your collar. “Sylus—!”

“Don’t be shy, kitten,” the whisper he sent through the shell of your ear caused shivers to your spine. With his heightened senses, he placed his mouth on your ear, “No one’s here to watch us except for your God. Be a good girl now.”

You tried to push him once more to no avail as he sucked on the flesh above your shoulder. There was no warning to prepare you from the sudden harsh suction. “I-It hurts!” 

Your nails dug into your palms to leave crescent marks on your flesh while you were squirming out of his strict hold. 

“It hurts? Good.” He continued to leave marks all over your flesh as he caged your waist around his arm. The feeling of his teeth pricking your skin had you whimpering in pain, and his eyes had grown rutilant when he momentarily pulled away to look at you. “You’ll hurt even more,” and then he erupted into a deep chuckle as if you were a meal that he was seasoning with a sprinkle of fear, “I should really just keep you for myself.” 

Your desire to breathe grew exponentially. “I’m not yours.” 

A low sneer and a dissatisfied ego had you pressed against the oak table in surprise. “Yes, you are,” he reiterated as though he was enforcing the idea in your head. “Your soul, your heart, your body—you are mine.” 

“I’m not! I wasn’t born in this world to be your property,” you protested, pulling away from his grip only to be slammed harsher on the table. You knew you should never anger a demon but his possessive nature irked you. Aside from your already shameful situation, you wanted nothing but to get away from him. “You’re evil.” 

“What makes you so brave? Your beliefs?” he gritted, reaching for an object near your head that turned out to be the Bible. “This?” he quickly opened the sacred handbook and ripped the pages in front of your very eyes with a distasteful smile. How easily he ripped it, how easily he also tossed it. “Whatever, then. There’s no God. You humans are complete idiots for worshiping a nonexistent being. Weren’t you the ones saying that I’d burn as soon as I stepped into a church?” 

“He is your father!” You sat back up, revolted by his blasphemy. He had no right to mock God like this. “Don’t taint my beliefs with yours. My faith in Him is stronger than you think.” 

“You should know what it’s like to be in hell before you say that shit,” he retorted, placing his lips back on your ear, “I’ll take you there with me.” 

This is not the time and place! What a shameful situation he was putting you through, so unbelievably shameful and obscene that you couldn’t look at him in the eyes. “Sylus, I swear. I’m going home if you’re gonna keep on—”

He huffed, showing boredom by dismissing you with a wave of his hand. “Ah, fine. You’re boring. Continue the prayer, then.”

For one of two things; first, Sylus would never let you off easily. Every act of defiance would garner you a punishment. Second, he was a time bomb. You never knew when his most cruel intentions would come to show. He was a malefic being that wouldn’t give two shits about where he was as long as he was having fun at torturing your soul. 

You should have known that when you chose to finish your prayer back at the pew. Sylus would simply not last long enough to just sit by your side in his apathy. 

“Holy Father, please forgive us for our sins—”

He snorted in ill-humor. “Pitiful.” 

And while you sat there looking up at the crucifix, Sylus’s hand was already sneaking its way under your skirt. His icy fingers traced your inner thighs until he reached your center, and that was when you finally grabbed his wrist to stop him with wide, scandalized eyes. Was anyone on the qui vive to see you right now? 

“Sylus, for heaven’s sake,” you hissed, pulling his wrist away but his slender fingers were already coordinating motions against your clothed core. You had to look around in panic lest there be any unknown audience peeking from the shadows. Despite your refusal to submit, the contact was eliciting suppressed moans out of your parted lips. “Y-You’re insane. This isn’t the place.” 

His smile was full of triumph and excitement, his right eye glowing ominously he spoke. “What makes it different?” he asked, raising your skirt and inserting his fingers inside your underwear. You had to press your lips together as soon as he started rubbing his fingers on your clit. “See, you enjoy the fuck out of it. I can see through your deepest desires, kitten. It’s telling me… ‘don’t stop’.” 

Your palm was pressed on his chest while his other hand tried to spread your legs open. The very position you were in—leaned on the wooden bench, legs spread apart, and being fingered in the presence of God—you were certainly going to hell. This was going against your belief, having your chastity corrupted in arrant disgrace by a man who was the devil himself. 

How exactly did you find yourself in this predicament? You came here to offer a quick prayer, not to be pressed on the bench by a man who was now unbuckling his belt in haste. You could only think of how Sylus, who was an angel beyond his demons, was perhaps trying to come out of being trapped in the dungeon where Satan had him caged.

“This is so wrong,” your lips quivered as you spoke, both of the curling of your toes and of the shameless sacrilegious act. You knew you couldn’t stop this no matter how hard you tried because Sylus would remain tenacious until he got what he wanted. 

With that, you fully submitted yourself to him and let the back of your head rest on the wooden surface while you stared at the stained glass that roofed the cathedral in different hues. 

Sylus was fast to display a smirk while positioning his hardened length on your entrance. The bands of your underwear were now resting mid-thigh as he pressed himself down on you with one knee supporting the angle of his hips. He was running his throbbing tip between your plump folds to lubricate himself with your slick. No screams could be released because you restrained your own whimpers, but your tears brimmed on the corner of your eyes from the initial penetration. 

“Ngh!” Your nails dug deep on his forearms. “S-Sylus!” 

“Are you crying?” His carmine eyes glinted of sadistic humor, running his gelid thumb across your lower lip only to sink it deep inside your mouth. “How does it feel knowing that the God you worship can’t save you?” 

A tear slid down from your eyes to your temple as Sylus started moving his hips in an achingly slow rhythm, each thrust going deeper than the last. You almost bit his thumb before he released your mouth by gripping your wrist. “Sylus—someone could see—!”

To your irony, the crucifix stared down at you and enkindled your conscience from this sinful act. Father, forgive me. You could only whisper those words in your head because your mouth was too occupied in crying out Sylus’s name.

“So warm.” It was hard not to think of how attracted he looked when he raked his fingers through his hair, later meeting your eyes with overpowering lust. He didn’t hold back at burying his cock into your cavern, allowing your walls to fit his girth like tight gloves—the feeling garnering his raspy grunt. “You’re mine, sweetie. All mine.” 

Sylus. You blinked your tears away as you closed your eyes. Sylus’s lips were now on your neck as he increased the pace of his member sliding in and out of your cunt with squelching noises that shamelessly echoed across the cathedral. “Sylus,” your lips were on his ear, “we’re in—aah—church.”

Unlike you, he was nonchalant about the sacredness of the house of God. He was mocking the supreme being that you held faith to as an act of engraving his existence into your mortal soul. While you restrained your moans as he slammed his pelvis against your hole, there was fulfillment rattling in his bones when he pressed your face to the side before diving in to suck on your sweet flesh.

“Cry more. Did you know your walls get warmer when you’re aroused?”

It was hard to describe the feeling. The median between pain and pleasure was the closest example you could liken it to. The grazing of his fangs added to the burning sensation that you had all over your body as if fire was ignited to light up all your nerves. 

Your hand latched onto his shirt before his body collapsed on top of you. With your legs spread wide, his head hung low on your neck—still and unmoving, strangely like he had fallen asleep. 

“Sylus.” You tapped his arm through the heavy rise and fall of your chest.

And before you could move away, he shot straight up and looked at you with those foxy incarnadine eyes that were now in the shade of deep crimson. Eyes that were wide and full of horror as he looked around the cathedral before he slowly realized what he had just done. 

“Y/N,” he said your name regretfully, pulling your dress down to cover your exposed parts, “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, I did this—? I don’t—” 

Long dried were the tears on your cheek. As you two scrambled to fix your clothes, you pulled him into a hug while he murmured endless sorry’s to your ear. At least, for now he was back. That was the most important thing with all the sanity you had left. 

“Just get me out of here, Sy,” you said, back into the arms of your human lover. 

~~

You’ve always wondered why Sylus often slept during the day. Or why his normal heartbeat was at the pace of someone who was having a heart attack. Or why he could get serious wounds but managed to heal himself fast. Sometimes he would disappear from your sight and transport himself into another. Sometimes he would see and hear things a thousand times clearer than any other person could. 

For almost a year of dating, these questions only came up to you without much of an answer. You thought that you were simply theorizing over things that you shouldn’t. Why does Sylus always wear that cross around his neck? At the back of your head, you were always intrigued. 

You didn’t find out about the real reason until two months ago when you finally met ‘Lucifer’ out of nowhere. If Sylus was Jekyll, Lucifer was his Hyde. It was his way to allow you to form a dissociation between the two beings in one body. 

You never believed in devils until Sylus showed his demonic face to you one night while you were supposedly peacefully sleeping. You recalled the screams that you released when you found out that Sylus was the fallen angel all along. That the rosary around his neck was meant to seal his dark side, the side that you still didn’t know much of. Up until this day, he didn’t provide a concrete answer as to why he needed to seal himself. He was taciturn about the topic of his other self despite you bringing it up every now and then. 

But because you loved him, trusted him, and believed him when he said that he didn’t plan to hurt you—you stayed. You knew his human side better than the monster within him, so you told yourself that you could stay for him. You just needed to learn more about him. 

There were still moments where you felt cautious around him, but when you looked to see his softened expression, you were comfortable at seeing the Sylus that you knew. 

“Y/N,” he broke the silence that lingered between you two as you walked around the city, “I’m sorry.” 

You tugged at his hand in reassurance. “It’s okay, I just...” As flashbacks of the earlier events returned to your head, you felt ashamed at having done such dirty deeds at a holy place. “He always gets what he wants.” 

Because you let him. 

“I can’t do anything when I’m trapped,” Sylus mumbled, keeping up with your footsteps as you strode along the street. 

Your curiosity bubbled from his statement. “What happens when he’s taking over?” 

This time, Sylus didn’t shy away from giving an answer while he interlaced his hand with yours. “I can hear everything, but I can’t feel or see. It’s all black, like I’m in a dark void.” 

“Like comatose?” 

“You could say that.”

How could a rosary seal his other self? How come he had two versions of him? 

“He’s obsessed with you,” he admitted, frowning at the thought as you passed rows and rows of boutiques and restaurants. “Your soul, your scent, your body. That’s probably why he always has the urge to come out.” 

The thought of it permeated heat on your cheeks even when it shouldn’t. Sylus had always been sweet and loving with his intimacy with you, but his other side was rough and sadistic. He liked tormenting your innocence with his immorality. 

“You said the rosary was meant to seal him, but how come he keeps on—”

“It doesn’t work these days. Only my father can help, but I don’t wanna go that far just to tell him about this.” 

Father. It was the first time he had ever spoken about his father in your twelve months together. Or did he mean father as in God? “Where’s your father, Sylus? Or the rest of your family? Are the other archangels roaming on Earth, too?” 

You could see it in his saintly face that he was about to give an answer and you anticipated it, not until the nearby catcalling distracted you two. 

“Nice legs, gorgeous,” whistled the man who was leaning by the street railings with a cigarette in his hand. The man was probably in his mid-40’s with disheveled hair and unshaved face. You sent him a glare but a crude wink was returned. 

“It’s a bit rude to ogle at my woman in front of me, don’t you think?” was Sylus’s warning, the tendrils of his black-red mist extending to surround the man.

You could hear the man hooting again, unaware of what would become of him. “Ha ha! You punk. I’d spread those legs in a heartbeat.” 

While Sylus’s eyes were deepening into a darker hue, you knew you couldn’t risk seeing him release his demonic side again. It was a dangerous gamble. And the city could become a bloodbath. So, in your insistence, you told your lover to just leave it be.

“Sylus, let it go,” you gently asked, tugging at his arm softly. You wanted to avoid confrontation and just continue walking with you until you could reach your destination. “It’s okay.”

~~

“Happy anniversary to my favorite couple!” 

The clinking of glasses was followed by cheers on the booth where your boyfriend and your friends sat together. It was Avery’s idea to celebrate the special day two days prior as an excuse to hang out and drink. Luke and Kieran, being Sylus’s minions, were very much willing to join. 

“It’s not until Wednesday,” Sylus corrected with a smile, sipping on his pint before putting an arm around you. He gestured towards Avery and Luke with a knowing look. “Now you two should date each other.” 

You giggled at the thought. “Yeah, I totally support that.” 

Instead, the two of them reacted heavily against it—faking a gag, making a face, name it all. They were adamant on showing how disgusted they were at the thought of dating each other and it was quite a hilarious sight to watch. 

“Boss, come on,” Luke replied in outward distaste. 

Avery, on one hand, was rolling her eyes. “You wish I was interested. I’d rather do Kieran than you.” 

Kieran was Luke’s twin, the less obnoxious and more empathic one. But when those two were combined, their level of mischief wasn’t really any different from each other. 

“Picking Kieran is the most insulting thing you can say to me,” huffed Luke, earning yours and Avery’s chuckle. 

After an exchange of playful banter and teasing remarks, the conversation was redirected back to you and Sylus as Avery curiously brought up how you first met your boyfriend. It was only a year ago and the memory was still vivid in your head. 

“Oh my God. I remember how Y/N first saw you at this auction,” she gushed towards your boyfriend while you blushed, gripping his arm closer, “and she’s acting like she just saw her soulmate.” 

Kieran decided to chime in, “Boss was looking at her too, though. He may look tough, but he’s a hopeless romantic deep down—”

“Enough,” Sylus warned before sipping on his glass. 

You rested your head on his shoulder and relaxed against him. “Next thing you guys know, we’re living together.” 

Frankly, everything was normal until Sylus showed up. 

“What do you like most about her, Sylus?” Avery egged on with a grin spreading on her face. 

Your boyfriend didn’t even take a second to answer, “She’s cute like a cat,” he said, caressing your hand with his thumb from under the table, “and smart, and caring. Can get spicy, too. It won’t end.” 

Sylus was the same, if not better. You didn’t have much experience when it came to dating, but you were surely on top of the luck department for being blessed with a man like him. He was the most protective person you knew, the most affectionate, the most thoughtful. Sylus was the moon that illuminated your dark nights. You could even remember how he would wait outside of your workplace to pick you up in his motorcycle—those were the little things that lasted for a lifetime in someone’s memory. 

“She’s also a nun.” 

The sudden panic in your eyes came simultaneous to the fast beating of your heart. You swiftly whipped your head to look at Sylus who was now displaying a deriding smirk across his pale face. Oh, were you doomed. The ruby eyes and the stony face was clear confirmation that the demon had taken over him. Twice in the same day. 

Even Avery was surprised by his word of choice, but nonetheless found it amusing as it was rare for them to see Sylus acting bold. You were grateful for her obliviousness because you didn’t know how else you could explain the situation at hand.

“She’s a what, boss-man?” Luke jeered, chugging on his pint and looking at his boss in his newfound entertainment. He was among the very few people that knew Sylus’s true nature. Because the twins were demons like him.

“A nun,” Sylus answered, sending a look of mischief your way. You were deeply panicking that you had to squeeze his hand in hopes of stopping him from showing his true colors. “What? Don’t be shy, kitten. Didn’t we have fun in that church?”

You quickly shook your head and denied it in front of your friends. “We didn’t. Don’t believe him.”

Avery was unbelievably taken aback. “Wow,” she held back a chuckle, “I didn’t know Sylus has a vulgar mouth.” 

~~

The night carried on while the downpour engulfed the streets heavily. Your desperation to leave the dinner earlier than intended was solely because you weren’t comfortable at having Sylus around other people. The man was clearly enjoying the embarrassment that he was putting you through. And you, you were only being cautious. Who knew what things he could do to Avery while in his other form? 

You didn’t want things to end up where Sylus would be ostracized by the people who knew him just because they couldn’t understand that he was completely harmless in his benevolent self. 

It took a lot of effort to finally make an excuse of getting home early while the skies have temporarily calmed down. However, as you two strolled across the street, Sylus wouldn’t stop blabbering on and on about how you should have stayed more to talk about how prudish you were. 

“I’m not in the mood right now,” you spoke in a detached voice, moving away from him as you walked together. Because you ruined it, you wanted to add. The cold breeze kissed your face through the dark. 

Sylus only moved closer to you. “You shouldn’t be so uptight,” he countered, “Is that how kittens should act? Or do I punish you back at home?”

Punishments. You didn’t wish to go through another round of his ‘punishments’ because you weren’t certain at how creative he could be at delivering them. There was no doubt that a man who traversed the ages would have seen enough torture devices used during the earlier times. Perhaps he could get inspiration from those. 

“I just wanna go home,” you muttered, almost inaudibly had his heightened hearing senses not worked. 

“Good, then I can have fun with y—” Sylus halted from his words as his face froze at the sight in front of him. His body had completely gone stiff and his jaws were clenched. You would have thought that he was angry until that evil upturn of his lips came to show. 

“Sylus...”

Following his sight, he was all eyes on a man from a distance before he dashed towards the stranger, leaving you utterly stupefied from where you stood. What’s he on about? You rushed as your heels landed in lightweight steps across the sidewalk while you watched in terror how Sylus mercilessly throttled the man by the neck and dragged him into a dark alleyway. 

“Sylus, stop!” 

As you reached him with a panting breath, you realized that the man he was holding high up against the wall was the same person that catcalled you earlier. The man was wriggling away from Sylus’s tight grip, only to be asphyxiated harsher than before. 

“Wh-What’s your problem?” The man struggled to breathe due to the strangulation and you were pulling Sylus’s other arm to stop him. 

At the sight of Sylus’s crimson eyes and vicious stance, you knew there was nothing much you could do to prevent harm. He was determined to do what he wanted without paying attention to his surroundings. 

“You’re fantasizing her, huh?” Sylus taunted with a sinister undertone in his words. “You wanna spread ‘em open?” 

Recalling the very words he spoke, the man saw you with frantic eyes as his face was reddening from the lack of oxygen. With a rushed shake of the head and a face that was begging for sympathy, he tried to break free. “N-No, no. She’s—haaa! She’s all yours.” 

“Sylus, stop it.” You grabbed his arms and attempted your best to pull him away despite the trepidation that caused you goosebumps. “Please stop, you’re gonna kill him.” 

Every time you saw this demonic creature, you were learning new things about him and most of those things were of the worst kind. Not only was he possessive—he was diabolical, potentially obsessive, and a cutthroat sadist who wouldn’t even blink before ending someone’s life. This was the true nature of a demon, not some silly fantasy that today’s pop-culture portrayed them to be. 

He was a body without a soul.

Unfortunately, you should have thought twice before choosing to get involved with him. 

“That’s my plan, sweetie.” 

[pedrospatch]

fall into temptation | three

Jackson! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter Reader

series masterlist

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56). several mentions of religion and religious symbols, reader has a father and two sisters, all who come with names, reader gets put into a a very uncomfortable situation, insecurity, anxiety, Seth is an asshole, protective Joel, he threatens to break someone’s jaw which is a warning in and of itself. SMUT. loss of virginity, reader is inexperienced but not totally clueless, oral (both m and f receiving), risky unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it up), lots of praise and pet names (baby, babygirl, honey, you know, the works), Joel gets a teensy bit rough, creampie, hint of aftercare, ends with a cliffhanger, but also not really if you think about it?

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 10k

a/n: it was not my intention to post this on jesus day, but here we are. this took forever and a day considering the second part was posted back in september, but i am so so proud of myself for finally completing a wip i could cry. i did a bulk of the editing while i’ve been sick and in all honesty i probably should have asked someone to beta for me because i think i coughed out like 90% of my brain cells this week, but i think it turned out okay. ish.

Somehow, even over the volume of the live music, you could still hear their hushed, astonished whispers.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Is that Joel Miller with Pastor John’s daughter?”

“What’s she doing holding his hand?”

“He’s got to be at least twice her fucking age—”

Throat bobbing anxiously, you glanced up at Joel.

His shoulders were squared back, his head held high. 

Solid. Steady.

Joel couldn’t seem to care less about the bewildered stares, the judgment that was being flung his way. Not once did he seem to waver. But you?

Oh, you were already starting to crumble underneath it all, on the verge of falling apart right before everyone’s prying eyes. Shame sat heavily inside of your chest, the weight of the feeling suffocating you, making it harder and harder to breathe as it prevented air from reaching your lungs.

It had nothing to do with Joel. Of course it didn’t. It had all to do with you and with who you were. Their beloved preacher’s sweet, innocent young daughter. 

His youngest daughter. 

Suddenly, the whispers were no longer whispers.

“Oh God, she’s not going home with him, is she?”

“That’s not right! Someone should say something!”

“Pastor John would never allow something like this.”

“Poor thing’s naive—she doesn’t know any better.”

Hot, stubborn tears of frustration glazed over your eyes and threatened to spill. It was as if you were a child who didn’t know any better, a gullible, clueless little girl with nothing in her brain who needed to be rescued—saved from the bad, bad man before he did bad, bad things to her.

Had it been anyone else, no one would have batted an eye. No one would have noticed, let alone cared. But it was you that Joel Miller was leaving the bar with in the middle of the night and it was you whose hand he had clasped in his own. That is what made it wrong. That is why it was a problem.

Everyone’s concerns had nothing to do with him at all, they had everything to do with you. You, you, you. You were the sole reason why it was a problem, the reason why he was being perceived as the Devil himself, horns out as he dragged the poor little unsuspecting angel down to the fires of Hell.

“Joel?” Overwhelmed, you instinctively reached for his arm with your free hand. Cold and trembling, your little fingers curled tightly around his bicep, digging into the firm, bulging muscle through the thick corduroy fabric of his sleeve. You whispered his name again. “Joel—”

“S’alright, babygirl,” he reassured you quietly over his shoulder. He gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “S’alright. Just keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You just keep on lookin’ right at me, okay?”

Nodding, you inhaled deeply and focused on him. Only him. The broadness of his back and his shoulders. Tufts of hair that curled over the collar of his shirt. Only him. He’s what mattered. He’s all that mattered.

“Almost there,” Joel murmured, squeezing your hand again as the door came into view. “Breathe, baby. We’re almost there. I’ve got you. You’re alright. Ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you. Promise I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t until his fingers wrapped around the old, brass handle that you finally exhaled the breath you had been holding out in utter relief, though it was very, very short lived. Just as Joel pulled the door open, you felt a hand wrap around your arm. Dry, slender fingers dug into the soft flesh above your elbow as an attempt, and a feeble one at that, was made to tear you out of Joel’s grasp.

The music stopped and the bar fell silent. Everything and everyone came to a sudden standstill, freezing mid dance, mid drink, mid bite, mid gossip.

Shocked, you glanced over your shoulder. “Seth?” you squeaked his name. “What—what are you doing?”

Seth didn’t acknowledge you. His focus was on Joel.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Miller?”

Joel’s anger couldn’t be seen, but it could be felt. So palpable you could have wrapped your fingers around it. It radiated off of him and loomed over the entire bar like an incoming storm cloud. Threatening. Dangerous.

“Where are you taking her?” Seth demanded, his other hand curling around your wrist as he tried, but failed, to snatch you from Joel’s side once more. “Let the girl go! You let her go right now, you hear?”

Caught in between the two men, you nervously turned to look at Joel. Nostrils flared, jaw clenched, seething eyes that did the talking for him. His message was loud and oh so abundantly clear.

If Seth didn't take his hands off you, he wasn’t going to have any hands.

Not after Joel Miller was through with him.

Blazing heat flooded your face. As if it couldn’t possibly get any worse, everyone had now gathered around you to watch the tense encounter, eyes wide, brows raised and jaws practically on the weathered, hardwood floor.

Tommy Miller stood among the crowd, subtly shaking his head, his lips pressed together in a tight, thin line of disapproval as he glowered at his older brother. Would he be looking at Joel like that had it been Esther in your place? If she was the one he was taking home? Would any of this be happening if it was her instead of you?

“Seth.” Uttering his name, you shifted your attention back to him. You sounded calm and collected, despite feeling anything but. Joel’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you steady and grounded. His touch was the only reason you hadn’t yet spiraled into a state of panic. Clearing your throat lightly, you spoke again and tried your hardest not to waver. “Please let go of me.”

Still fixed on Joel, he spat, “I’ll be damned if I let him take you anywhere.”

“He’s not taking me anywhere, Seth.” Without thinking, the words came tumbling out of your mouth—loud and clear for everyone in that room to hear. “He isn’t forcing me to go with him. I’m making the choice to leave with him. Out of my own volition. Please let go of me.”

Finally, Seth looked at you. His old, worn features were twisted in disbelief. “What?”

You swallowed dryly. Part of you wanted you to shrink away, curl into yourself. Instead, you straightened your posture, forced yourself to stand a little bit taller. Willed yourself to have a backbone for once in your life.

“You heard me,” you said, lifting your chin in defiance. Several onlookers gasped in surprise at your rebellion. Where had this insolence come from? “I’m choosing to leave with Joel. Now, please let go of my arm.”

Behind you, Joel stood silent and still. 

Watching. Observing. Waiting.

He wanted nothing more than to intervene. Rip you out of Seth’s hands and shatter each and every last bone in all ten of his fingers for putting them on you. Had Joel not realized that this was probably the first time in your whole, entire life you’d mustered up the courage to use your voice, he would have easily given into the urge. He wanted to protect you. He needed so badly to protect you. Yet, he knew you weren’t helpless or incapable of standing on your own two feet. He knew you deserved the chance to stand up and speak for yourself after a lifetime of being silenced, a lifetime of being forced to stay in your place, seen but never heard.

“Seth, let go of my arm,” you repeated. It was no longer a polite request. It was a demand.

He scoffed. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you leave with somebody like him? You think I’m just going to stand back and let him take advantage of you?”

Oh, you hadn’t liked that insinuation, not one bit. 

It caused something inside of you to finally give way.

Snap.

The blood in your veins boiled, ran hot enough to make you feel like you were about to burn from the inside out. “Joel isn’t taking advantage of me! It isn’t like that,” you seethed, furiously. The quiet, well mannered, obedient good girl everyone in Jackson knew was gone. And she could stay gone. In your periphery, you could see Leah elbowing her way through the sea of people to the front of the crowd with an incredulous look plastered on her face. She stood there beside Tommy, who appeared to be just as incredibly bewildered by your outburst. “Don’t treat me like I’m some child who doesn’t know any better! I’m an adult and I’m old enough to make my own choices, okay?”

For a moment, you had forgotten it was Seth standing there in front of you.

“I’m capable of making my own decisions! I don’t need you to dictate my life. I don’t need you to tell me what is and isn’t good for me—controlling what I should and shouldn’t believe in.” Your voice trembled as emotions you’d been suppressing for years bubbled their way up to the surface. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Joel squeeze your hand again, as if silently encouraging you not to lose your nerve. He was your anchor, the only person who could keep your world from capsizing. You knew he wouldn’t let you drown. Not even God, who you had always been forced to believe was your pillar of strength, had ever made you feel this protected. Safe. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live and much less when it’s the end of the world.”

It wasn’t Seth you were addressing.

It was your father.

Your father, who controlled every last thing, from what you would eat to the way that you dressed and how you wore your hair.

Your father, who refused to let you have a mind of your own, who simply could not bear the mere thought of you thinking for yourself.

Your father, whose love felt like shackles, heavy, rusted metal restraints that had been digging into the flesh of your wrists for far, far too long.

“You need to let me go now,” you said, swallowing back the lump in your throat. Once more, you caught Leah from the corner of your eye, your heart lurching in your chest when you noticed her desperately trying to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. She was the only person in the room who understood how you felt. Her rebelliousness only ever masked the pain of knowing her father’s love came with terms and conditions—and the fear of knowing what would happen if those terms and conditions weren’t met. For several weeks, you’d gotten a taste of what she went through everyday, how her fear of putting her foot down led her to run around in secret and live a double life. “Just let me go.”

Seth firmly shook his head. “No! I’m not letting you go anywhere with him. I don’t know what the hell he did to you, but he’s clearly got you all fucking brainwashed.”

That was fucking enough. Joel stepped in, lowering his voice as he said, “Y’know, I’ve just ‘bout lost count of how many fuckin’ times she’s asked you to let her go now and it’s really startin’ to piss me off.” Raising an eyebrow, he laid his offer out on the table. “Here’s the deal. You let go of her right now and I won’t shatter your fuckin’ jaw into pieces. That seem fair enough to you?”

“No.” Seth gripped your arm even harder, prompting you to let out a little yelp as his nails dug painfully into your skin. Though it’d been accidental and he hadn’t meant to hurt you, it didn’t matter. He’d just set off the ticking time bomb that was Joel Miller.

Furious, Joel snatched a fistful of his shirt with his free hand—the other still held yours. Gentle, despite being mere moments away from beating someone to within an inch of their life.

“Joel! Stop!” Tommy’s voice broke through the tension as he approached. His footsteps were slow—careful and cautious, as if he was afraid to make any kind of sudden movement. “Joel. Hey. C’mon now, let’s not do this, alright? Ain’t gotta handle things this way. We can talk it through. No need for anyone to wind up bleedin’ in the fuckin’ infirmary tonight, so just take a breath and let him go.”

Blatantly ignoring Tommy’s attempt to keep the peace, Joel tugged Seth forward, yanking him closer. “Listen to me and listen to me good ‘cause I ain’t gonna fuckin’ say it again. You’d best take your fuckin’ hands off her right now unless you wanna spend the rest of the night sweepin’ up your teeth off the floor of your own fuckin’ bar,” he threatened, his tone enough to send a chill up anyone’s spine, even your own.

“You wouldn’t dare, Miller.” Somehow, Seth managed to keep a straight face, but you could see it so clearly in his eyes and in the tremble of his lower lip—oh, he was terrified of Joel and rightly so. “Not in front of all these people. Not in front of your brother. That wouldn’t be a smart move considering you’re already on thin fucking ice for what you did to that boy’s face, now would it?”

Joel tugged him closer. “Test me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Go on. Fuckin’ test me.”

His challenge was immediately met with a pathetic look of defeat. Seth dropped your arm and he was released.

“S’what I fuckin’ thought.” Without another word to the man, Joel whirled around and roughly pulled the door open, leading the way outside. As you both descended the building’s old, creaking wooden steps, you began to shiver and he suddenly remembered he’d left his jacket behind inside the bar. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “C’mere, my little dove,” he murmured as he tucked you against his side for warmth. “I’ve got you.”

The first thing he did was light the fireplace.

“Should start warmin’ you up, sweet girl,” he’d said to you over his shoulder. He tossed a log into the blaze as you sat perched on his couch rubbing your bare arms with your hands. “M’gonna go upstairs and find you a blanket, alright? You stay put.”

“Okay,” you’d mumbled, knowing there was no point in telling him not to fuss over you.

Even with the soft, fleece throw blanket he had draped around your shoulders and the warmth of the flames in front of you, you continued trembling. Subtle, but he’d noticed it, felt it when he had sat down beside you and pulled you close against his side. “Oh baby, you’re still shakin’?” That was when he realized you weren’t cold. Frowning, Joel rose to his feet and disappeared down the hallway. He came back to the living room a minute later with a glass of water in his hand. With a small, labored grunt, he dropped to one knee in front of you and held it out. “Here.”

“No, thank you.” You shook your head. “I’m not thirsty.”

“Maybe not, but I’m kinda worried you could be in a bit of shock right now,” he stated, the creases in between his brows deepening as he observed you for any other physical signs of distress. Carefully, Joel lifted the glass to your lips, gently coaxing you to take a drink. “C’mon, darlin’. Think you can be a real good girl for me and at least take a couple sips? Hm?”

Sighing softly, you nodded and did as he asked of you, taking a small sip of water. It soothed your dry mouth and throat and you took another one. Maybe you were thirsty after all.

“Little more, now. Little more. That’s it. That’s my good girl.” Once he was satisfied with how much you’d had to drink, Joel set the half empty glass down on the oak coffee table behind him. He turned back to you, placing his large hands on either side of your thighs below the hem of your dress. He started tracing soft, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. “M’real proud of you for standin’ up for yourself back there, sweetheart. Took a whole lot of fuckin’ courage to do that, y’know.”

You glanced down at your hands in your lap. “Mhm.”

“Baby. Hey. Look at me.” One of his hands abandoned your leg and he reached up, delicately taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. He tilted your face upwards, his worried gaze meeting your own. “Talk to me. M’right here.”

“That—that was a lot,” you admitted meekly, shoulders sagging as the adrenaline started wearing off and your body slowly came down from the peak hormone rush. “It was a lot.”

Sighing, Joel’s hand fell away from your face. “Yeah, I know it was a lot, babygirl. I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No.” You were quick to cut him off. “Don’t be sorry.”

His chest heaved with another sigh, this one deeper, heavier, bearing the weight of his guilt. “Well I am,” he said. He planted his hands on either side of you on the couch and lightly shook his head. “Didn’t even fuckin’ think twice when I pulled you outta that fuckin’ supply closet and took your hand in front of all those people. I was so fuckin’ hellbent on showin’ everybody you were mine that I didn’t even stop and think ‘bout what all it would mean for you. It was selfish of me. Real fuckin’ selfish. And I’m sorry, little dove.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked, quietly.

Joel chuckled in spite of himself. “M’pretty sure I’m the one who should be askin’ you that question, darlin’,” he remarked. “Tell me. Do you regret it? Do you regret me pullin’ you outta that closet?” He momentarily paused. There was a stutter in his heartbeat when you dropped your gaze away from his, silence your only reply. “Do you regret me takin’ your hand in front of everyone?”

Of course not.

You wanted to be his and you wanted everyone to know it. There was no regret, none. 

Still. 

The consequences that you would undoubtedly have to face in the morning were overwhelming. Daunting.

Surely, by then, your father would know about you and Joel. When he came downstairs right after sunrise and he discovered you weren’t in the kitchen helping Lydia prepare breakfast, he would question where you were and make some kind of remark about how you should not be sleeping in this late. He would tell her just how irresponsible it was for you to ignore your duties and obligations to him and the family. Sloth was one of the seven deadly sins, after all. He would make her trek upstairs and wake you, and when she did, your sister would find your bed empty.

Meanwhile, there would be a knock at the front door.

No stranger to having members of the congregation show up on his doorstep when they were in need, be it of prayer or comfort, your father would answer it only to find someone, not in need of solace, but who felt that it was their responsibility and moral obligation to inform him that they had seen his youngest daughter leaving The Tipsy Bison with Joel Miller in the middle of the night, hand in hand.

He wouldn’t believe them.

“Now, that is simply not true,” he would say, offended that anybody would have the nerve to show up at his door and accuse you of something so vile. “That’s not possible. I know my daughter and she would never do such a thing. It must have been someone else that you saw with him. Someone who looked like her, perhaps.”

Then, Lydia would descend the staircase and tell him you weren’t in your bedroom. “She must have gone up to the main street as soon as she woke up,” she would suggest with a shrug, not yet privy to the events that had taken place the night before at the party you and Leah had snuck off to. She never had to worry about you, the good one. “I did notice we were running pretty low on eggs. Sugar, too. She probably wanted to be the first in line at the pantry to—Papa? What’s the matter?”

The color would drain from your father’s face when the realization slowly sank in. No, you weren’t out on the main street picking up eggs for breakfast and sugar for his tea. You were lying up in Joel Miller’s bed—defiled, impure, and with the curse of Eve on your flesh. Even after dedicating his entire life to making sure you did not stray from the path of righteousness, he had failed. You had fallen into temptation. 

There was a chance he would have mercy on you. All you had to do was beg and plead for his forgiveness—and more importantly, for the forgiveness of God. “Vow to atone for your sins,” your father would say, his gaze fixed on the Holy Bible in his lap. He probably wouldn’t be able to look at you, not after what you had done. “Repent. And swear to me, child, that you will never so much as glance in that man’s direction ever again.”

No. That’s not what you wanted.

You wanted Joel and the freedom to be with him. 

But that freedom came with a high, high price.

You were willing to pay it, but you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to navigate the consequences. Then again, was there really any way for someone to prepare themselves to be shunned by their own father?

“I can take you home,” Joel offered quietly, the sound of his voice taking you out of the future and bringing you back into the present.

“What?”

“I can take you home,” he repeated himself. “I can take you home right now if that’s what you want, sweet girl. Won’t give you any kinda grief ‘bout it.”

Confused, all you could do was stare at him.

“Listen to me, baby. You mean a lot to me. More than I can even begin to explain,” Joel reassured you before any kind of doubt could find its way into your mind. “I want you to stay with me. There’s nothin’ on what’s left of this fuckin’ earth I want more than for you to stay here with me. But what you want matters to me a hell of a lot more than what I want.” He reached up, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you decide you wanna go home and go back to your family—back to your old man—then that’s where I’ll take you. Okay?”

Your father would give you an ultimatum. But Joel? He was giving you a choice. And he’d respect that choice.

“I wanna free you from your cage, my little dove. But I think we both know you’ve gotta make the choice to fly outta there on your own.” He lightly swept his thumb over your quivering bottom lip, his eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “Door’s wide open for you. What you do next is all up to you.”

“I’m afraid, Joel,” you confessed. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye and rolled its way down the side of your face. He was quick to wipe it away, along with the others that followed. “I do want out of my cage. I really, really do. But I’m terrified. All I have ever known is my family and my faith. I have never been apart from my father and my sisters.”

His expression softened. “I know you’re scared. Can’t promise you things will be easy, but there is one thing I can promise you.”

“What’s that?” you questioned, then waited with baited breath.

He gingerly cupped your cheek in his large palm. “I’ve got you,” he swore to you, just like he had done so back at the bar. “If you decide to stay, I promise I’ll take real, real good care of you, alright? For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. You won’t ever have to worry ‘bout a thing with me by your side. Swear it on my life.”

Warmth blossomed in your heartspace and finally, you stopped trembling. Lifting a hand, you curled your fingers around his wrist as your gaze fell to his mouth. “Joel?”

“What is it, darlin’ girl?”

“Kiss me. Please.”

With a gentle nod, Joel’s other hand found your hip, the warmth of it seeping through the cotton fabric of your dress. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against yours. It was a chaste thing, soft and innocent until you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you. “Babygirl,” he mumbled against your lips. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue through your parted lips and into your mouth. He tasted like bold bourbon and citrus beer. There was a faint hint of tobacco too—you recalled him admitting to you one night in the church house that while he wasn’t all that much of a smoker, at least not like he used to be when living in the zones, he would occasionally partake in the habit if he happened to come across a pack of cigarettes while out on patrol, pairing the nicotine with a drink. He tasted delicious. He tasted delicious because he tasted like yours.

You sank back into the worn, supple brown leather of his couch, tugging him forward so he sank in with you. Over you. Releasing your near death grip on his collar, you managed to wedge your hands in between your bodies and began to claw furiously at the buttons of his shirt, your fingers shaking out of pure desperation to feel him. It wasn’t until you were halfway down that he finally noticed what you were doing and leaned back, catching both of your wrists.

“Baby, wait,” he panted, shaking his head. “Don’t think now’s a good time for that—”

“Joel, please,” you pleaded, the intense ache between your thighs almost too much for you to bear. “Please. I want it. I want you.”

“S’been a rough night for you.” Joel’s voice was hoarse—strained, like he was aching just as much, if not more. “You’re real emotional right now. Vulnerable. Last thing I want is to take advantage of you at a time like this.”

You frowned. Had Seth’s words gotten into his head?

“You’re not taking advantage of me.”

“Darlin’ I just don’t think we should—”

“Joel, please,” you begged him again. “I was so good for you, was I not? Wasn’t I patient, just like you asked me to be?”

His lips thinned into a tight line. He wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. You, his beautiful little temptress of Eden.

“I waited for so long,” you reminded him. “I’ve been so, so good for you. Please, just make me yours already. I don’t want to think about anything else right now. I just want to be with you. Please, Joel. I need you so badly it hurts.”

Christ.

No man could stand it. No man could possibly have the strength to deny you.

With a look of utter defeat, he folded. Before he could say another word or make another move, your greedy mouth was on his, and you kissed him with fervor, with urgency, as you finished the task of unbuttoning his shirt. Pushing it off of his shoulders, the corduroy fabric fell into a crumpled heap behind him, nearly knocking the glass of water off the coffee table. You broke away from him and shamelessly marveled at his mouth watering form—you admired the way miles of smooth, tanned skin stretched over his wide shoulders, broad chest and soft, soft belly. Arousal pooled between your legs and you reached out and raked your fingers down his chest, and over his stomach, going lower and lower, following the trail of coarse, dark hair that led you to his brown leather belt. You clumsily started fumbling with the brass buckle until he caught your hands once more.

“Slow down, my little dove,” he murmured. “No need to rush this. We’ve got all night.” He stood up and held his hand out to you. Time blurred a bit—maybe it was your nervousness mingled with the eager anticipation of what was to come, but there seemed to be a small gap in your memory, a blank space that spanned from the moment you rose off the couch until the moment you found yourself standing in his bedroom where you were about to answer to the call of the flesh.

Dropping your hand, Joel switched on the lamp on his bedside table and kicked off his boots before taking you into his arms. “C’mere, honey.” He nuzzled your cheek with the tip of his nose as he spoke, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheek. “Couple’a rules, sweet girl. I do somethin’ that you don’t like, you tell me. You want me to stop, you tell me to sto—”

Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto the floor and knelt at his feet with purpose, as if kneeling before an altar, a sacred, holy space. Though you felt anxious, you were eager to worship. “I haven’t forgotten about what I said earlier tonight,” you cooed, noticing the mild look of surprise on his face. “I said I’d make it up to you and I intend on keeping my word.”

All the blood in his body rushed south to his cock and it strained painfully against the crotch of his jeans. “Baby, I—” Again, he was cut off, only this time by the sound of his own groan when your hand brushed up the front of his thigh and over his growing bulge. He glanced down, his heart thrumming painfully hard against his sternum as he watched you reach for his belt buckle.

With all your might, you willed your hands so as not to tremble. It was self-explanatory, what you were about to do, but your total lack of experience sowed seeds of doubt into your mind—you wanted to make him feel good, just like he had made you feel good outside of the church house during services. Just how you knew he would make you feel tonight.

Hand still over his buckle, you pressed the tenderest of kisses to his bulge through his jeans. Then, turning your head, you rested your cheek on one of his thick, blue denim clad thighs and peered up at him through your eyelashes with a small, nervous smile as you confessed what he already knew. “I’ve never done this before.”

Oh, how sweet and endearing you were. Joel reached down and smoothed your hair back and away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “S’alright, honey,” he crooned, grazing the silkiness of your cheek with his index finger. “I’ll walk you through it. Teach you how to be a real good girl and suck my cock just the way I like it. That what you want, my little dove?”

His filth made your cunt clench hard around nothing.

Slowly lifting your head off of his thigh, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and managed a clear, consenting nod as your hands fumbled with his buckle, the clinking sound of metal ringing loudly in your ears. You undid the button on his jeans and pulled down his zipper, your throat drying when you saw the outline of him, his size intimidating even behind the cotton fabric of his faded, black boxer briefs.

With a harsh swallow, you glanced up at him, silently asking him for his permission to continue.

Such a polite little thing, Joel thought to himself. “Go on, sweetheart,” he encouraged.

You tugged his jeans down to the middle of his thighs and hooked your index fingers underneath the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down and freeing his cock. There was a deep, swooping sensation in your belly as you watched it slap up against the lower part of his abdomen. After many nights of sitting in his lap, feeling him through his clothes, grinding your cunt down onto him, you thought you’d at the very least had an idea of what you would be in for, but oh, how wrong you had been. He was so much bigger than you could have imagined, and your stomach swooped again when you realized he was not going to fit. Anywhere.

Licking away the dryness of your lips, you take him in one of your hands, feeling the heaviness of his length in your palm. He was so long and so, so thick.

“Oh fuck,” Joel hissed the curse through gritted teeth, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as your touch sent a charged jolt of electricity shooting up the length of his spine. He looked down at you, his pupils blown wide with arousal. Christ. You hadn’t even done anything to him yet, but seeing you sitting so prettily at his feet was almost enough to make him come on the spot.

Delicately wrapping your hand around him, you found yourself almost in awe at the way your fingertips barely, just barely, touched. The sheer size of his cock dwarfed your hand, and made it seem so much smaller than it really was.

“You’re so big,” you murmured, echoing your thoughts. You licked at your lips again, suddenly feeling ravenous, an appetite that had seemingly come out of nowhere making you salivate. The tip of him was flushed red, slit already glistening—how badly you wanted, needed a taste. Never, ever, did you think you would be down on your knees for anything but prayer, but there you were, starved and desperate to bite into the forbidden fruit.

“What’re you waitin’ for, darlin’ girl?” he croaked.

“Permission,” you replied, sweetly.

“Go right ahead, baby. S’all yours—I’m all yours.”

Yours.

Yours, yours, yours.

Finding your first push of courage, you leaned forward and so carefully swept your tongue along the tip of his length, collecting the slight saltiness leaking from the slit and getting your first delectable taste. With your hand still wrapped firmly around his base, you looked up, your eyes locked on Joel’s face as you flicked your tongue up against the rigid underside of his cock.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned, all of the muscles in his stomach already pulling taut when he felt you dragging your tongue in a slow, purposeful lick along the length of him. “Babygirl.”

“Is that good?” you asked him, sounding hopeful. “Am I doing good?”

“Doin’ so, so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart. Look so fuckin’ pretty down on your knees for me.”

Pleased, you wrapped your mouth around the head of his length, pressing forward and taking him in as far as you possibly could—which, in all fairness, wasn’t very far. At least not as far as you would have liked. Another groan tore itself from the depths of his chest as your plush, plump lips sealed around him, your tongue warm and wet on the underside of his cock. Moving both of your hands to rest on the sides of his thighs, you began to move your head back and forth, following what felt most natural to you. The nerves you initially felt slowly but surely dissipated, vanishing one by one with every curse, every tremble, every sharp breath.

Joel resisted the urge to buck his hips forward, fought the desire to feel himself at the back of your throat. He needed to be gentle, so careful with such an innocent, pliant thing who had much, much to learn. “Sweet little fuckin’ mouth feels so good around my cock, baby, just like I fuckin’ knew it would. Y’think it can take more of me, little dove? Hm?”

You hummed, the vibration intensifying his pleasure.

“Yeah? Y’trust me?”

Your reply came in the form of a muffled, “Mhm.”

Joel reached down and cradled the back of your head in the palm of his hand. He carefully guided you further onto his throbbing length, slowly feeding you one inch at a time. Your fingers dug into the denim of his jeans. He was much more than a mouthful for you, and you could only take about half of him before he hit the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him. Drool dribbled out from the corners of your mouth and down the sides your chin, dripping onto your lap.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, that’s it. Little more now, honey,” Joel encouraged. He bucked his hips forward, his head slipping further down your throat. Just when you felt like you were about to choke, he pulled out and you tried your hardest not to cough and sputter as you took in a much needed, precious breath of air. He gave you a few seconds or so to finish catching your breath as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs further down his legs. He stepped out of the articles of clothing and kicked them somewhere off to the aside, standing before you completely bare. “Open up.”

Your absolute devotion to him bred sweet submission, so as worried as you were that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, you nodded obediently and very willingly did as you were told. 

He guided himself right back into your waiting mouth, pressing deeply. You tried to relax your jaw, reminding yourself to breathe in and out through your nose. Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you did your best to forestall another gag. “Little bit more,” he said, thrusting his hips in a slow, steady controlled rhythm. He advanced even further into your mouth—trusting he wouldn’t suffocate you, nor push you too far past your limits, you opened up wider. He moaned, “Yeah, baby. That’s my good girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

With a bit of newfound confidence, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him. You swiped your tongue along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock, earning yourself more of his sweet, sweet praise.

“Fuck, yeah, suck me off, sweetheart. This pretty little mouth was fuckin’ made for sin,” he breathed, guiding your head back and forth with a firm, but gentle hand.

You moaned, the noise muffled around his length. Slick soaked through your panties and coated the insides of your thighs. With another moan, you tightly squeezed your legs together, inwardly reminding yourself that patience was a virtue.

Noticing the way you had shifted, Joel moved his hand from the back of your head, lightly curling his fingers around your jaw. He pulled you off of his cock, a loud, lewd popping sound bouncing off the sage green walls of his bedroom. “C’mere, baby.” He grabbed your arms, effortlessly hoisting you up to your feet.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned him worriedly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Chuckling softly, he brushed a finger along the strap of your dress. You could do no wrong, his perfect, perfect girl. “Of course not, sweet girl. You did so fuckin’ good for me,” Joel reassured you, lightly tracing along your collarbone with his finger and making your flesh erupt in goosebumps. He leaned forward and feathered a kiss onto your lips, murmuring against them, “Are you wet, little dove?”

Before you could even process the query and generate some kind of coherent response, he dove his opposite hand between your thighs, cupping your warm heat in his palm. At this, your weak knees buckled, prompting you to reach out and grab onto his arms to hold steady and keep yourself from falling into a helpless heap on the floor.

“Oh, honey. You’re soaked. That what sucking my cock does to you?” he cooed. He peppered another kiss, this one onto the corner of your mouth. His voice lowered another octave. “Poor little thing. She needs me, don’t she? Needs me to take care of her?”

You whimpered. “Yes.”

“Manners, babygirl,” he reminded you, skimming your cheek with his nose. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

Humming in approval, Joel withdrew his hand from in between your legs and guided you backwards towards his bed. “Sit,” he commanded gently, bidding you to let go of him. “Arms up.”

Reaching for the hem of your dress, he took great care in pulling it over your head, then discarded the vibrant yellow material over his shoulder, leaving you in nothing but your cowboy boots and thin, cotton white panties. Without a word, he knelt before you and pulled off one boot, and then the other, setting them both aside. He hooked two fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your underwear, coaxing you to lift your bottom off of the bed, just long enough for him to pull them down and slide them down your legs. He was so tender in the manner in which he undressed you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, beautiful girl,” Joel praised. His dark gaze dragged down the length of your body as you sat before him wearing nothing but the delicate, gold chain around your neck. The holy cross nestled between your supple breasts gleamed in the light of the lamp on the nightstand. He would leave it on until your decision was made, set in stone. “My pretty little dove.”

“Joel.” You whimpered his name, hands curling around fistfuls of his dark blue sheets. You were drenched now, in dire need of some relief. If he didn’t touch you where you needed him most, you would surely lose your mind.

Desperate, you leaned back slightly onto his bed and parted your knees, your folds glistening as you showed him just how badly you needed him.

Joel groaned, almost visibly salivating at the sight. The blazing heat in his eyes sent ripples of desire coursing through your body, straight to your throbbing core.

You opened wider. “Please.”

“Christ, babygirl. Already soakin’ the sheets.” Sliding a finger up along the seam of your pussy, he grazed your clit, the touch light, but somehow still enough to make your hips arch off the mattress as white-hot pinpricks of pleasure danced their way up your spine. He lowered his head and leaned in, your sweet scent drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Just when you were about to start pleading him for more, he dipped his face into the apex of your thighs, his mouth finally, finally, meeting your wet heat.

“Oh!” you gasped, your head falling back. “Fuck!”

Against you, his lips curled upwards into a wicked grin. He’d never heard you curse before, not until now.

Joel took his time devouring you, savoring the essence of your cunt with each broad stroke of his tongue. Sealing his lips around your clit, he flicked the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again, eliciting from you some of the sweetest noises that he had ever heard in his entire life. In preparation for what you both knew was to come, he pushed one finger inside of you, the invasion causing you to fist his sheets even harder. He then slipped in a second finger, groaning in sheer, carnal bliss at how your walls squeezed them, at the mere thought of them squeezing his cock in the same manner. How was it that you felt so much tighter this time around?

“Oh God.”

You shouldn’t be saying His name. Not like this.

Not when something this sinful was being done to you.

Hungrily, Joel lapped at you, curling both of his fingers in an upwards motion to hit the perfect spot. He knew you were close, felt it in the way that you squirmed and writhed. Draping his arm across your hips, he pinned them down onto the bed, holding you still as he chased your high as if it were his own.

“Joel,” you chanted his name over and over again in a fevered prayer. Releasing the sheets, your hands found his hair, tangling themselves in his curls. Your head fell back, and you cursed at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Joel—”

Pushing onto his mouth, you came, moaning his name so loudly you were certain the whole neighborhood was getting an earful.

Joel pulled back, his beard and mustache slicked with your spend. “S’right, honey,” he crooned, his digits still buried to the knuckle as he helped you to ride out your wave of ecstasy. Eventually, when he pulled them out, you tried closing your shaking legs. He tsked and shook his head, wrenching them open further. “No, no, baby. Keep those pretty thighs open for me. Wanna see her.” He admired his work, his cock twitching at the sight of your pussy, swollen and shining, and ready to take him.

Like earlier, there was another brief skip in time.

Mind still in a haze, you hadn’t even realized that he’d risen to his feet and guided you further up onto his bed, not until you were lying on your back with your head on his pillow and he was hovering over you, his hard length brushing against one of your messy, inner thighs when he settled himself between your legs. 

Your heart began to pound in a mingle of both fear and excitement.

Joel’s eyes met yours. His pupils were blown so wide, there was not one, single trace of brown anywhere to be seen. “Y’absolutely sure about this, little dove?”

Your response came without hesitation. “Yes. I’m sure.”

He pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw. Your submission was a gift, and he would cherish every last second of your surrender to him, savor it for as long as he possibly could. His lips, soft and warm, skimmed along the column of your throat, leaving a trail of fresh goosebumps in their wake.

If, by some chance, you decided that you wanted to go back to your father and to your faith, Joel didn’t know how he would find it in himself to let you go, not after this. Of course, he would have to let go, though.

The last thing he wanted was to help free you from one cage just to stick you right back into another. While he was no stranger to loss, he had to admit to himself that to lose you would be a knife to whatever was left of his heart.

Shoving the thought out of his mind, he reached down and gripped the base of his cock, pumping it in his fist before running the leaking head along your puffy lips, coating himself in your wetness with the hope it would ease some of the pain you were bound to feel. “Ready, babygirl?” he asked you, lightly teasing your entrance. “Might hurt a bit. M’gonna go slow. Just need you to relax for me, alright?”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got you,” he promised.

You nodded, saying softly, “I know.”

Though he knew he had all of your trust, Joel could still sense your anxiousness. He reached out for your hand, lacing your fingers together with his own as he gingerly pressed forward and eased himself into you, taking the very innocence you had been taught your entire life to preserve, one slow, careful inch at a time.

“Oh—Joel!” You cried loudly at the initial stretch, your pretty face scrunching in discomfort. Tightly slamming your eyes shut, sparks flew behind your eyelids when he finally bottomed out. The burning sting in between your thighs was too overwhelming, almost impossible to cope with. He felt so enormous within you, you could have sworn he was in your belly. Another broken cry fell from your lips and he swallowed it with a comforting kiss.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed against your lips, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, neck, and chest. He wasn’t sure where he found the strength, but he suppressed his urge to thrust. Instead, he dropped his face into the hollow of your neck and waited, giving you the chance to adjust to him. He mumbled against your skin. “Doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. Y’know that? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”

Even in discomfort, you preened at his praise.

He squeezed your hand, and after a minute, he gave an experimental thrust of his hips—and then another and another before he ceased his movement once again. He was so big and you were so deliciously full of him.

Eventually, the pain subsided, and you found yourself asking, no, begging for more. “Move.” Your other hand found itself cupping the side of his face, coaxing him to lift his head and allowing your gazes to meet. Your soft, plush thighs parted further to help accommodate the breadth of his hips. “Please, Joel. I need you to move—I need you to fuck me.”

Surely, you would be the death of him.

He drew his hips back with cautious, tender care, then advanced in the same manner to fill your precious cunt all over again. He did it over and over, your pleasured moans encouraging him to begin picking up the pace. He drove his cock in and out of your weeping pussy, the slapping of flesh against flesh, the lewd, wet squelch of you around him inspiring him to fuck you harder, faster. And the noises you were making?

There was something oh so beautiful about your cries, sweet raptures of submission as you laid there beneath him, all too graciously taking everything he had to give you like the good, good, good girl you were for him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” Joel rasped. “Look at you—look at the way you take my fuckin’ cock, honey.”

And you did.

Glancing down, your gaze fell between your bodies and you watched in awe, openly marveled at the way Joel slid in and out of your cunt, how he knocked hard so deeply inside of you, driving himself as far as he could possibly go.

“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna—” You tried warning him as the pressure in your belly neared its peak, but you tumbled over the edge before you even had the chance to finish your sentence. Arching up off off the bed, you pressed your chest against his, your fingers squeezing his own so hard you feared you might break them.

“That’s it babygirl, let go,” he grunted, speeding up his thrusts. “Squeeze my fuckin’ cock—just like that. Good girl. My perfect, perfect girl.”

You didn’t quite get the chance to let the praise sink in.

Joel pulled himself out of you, and with ease, he flipped you over onto your belly. His hands gripped your hips and pulled them up off the mattress, his fingers moving to firmly knead the fleshiest part of your ass. He leaned over you, the head of his cock nudging at your hole. “Y’think you can handle a little bit more, sweetheart?” he whispered the question into a tumble of messy hair, the delicate scent of the lavender shampoo you used to wash it filling his senses. “Answer me, little dove.”

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly with a nod. “I can.”

With a satisfied hum, Joel sank into you, this second stretch not quite as overwhelming at the first, but still intense. “Relax,” he murmured, hunching further over your quivering back. He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and then leaned down to brace his hands on either side of you. “Need you to be sweet for me just a bit longer, okay, baby?”

“God,” you whimpered when the heaviness of his balls came to rest on your sensitive clit.

It was the second time you’d uttered His name.

Joel almost grinned at the irony. He found his rhythm, groaning in gut-deep satisfaction with each snap of his hips—each smooth stroke in and each smooth stroke out.

“Oh fuck, sweet girl.” Heaven was indeed a real place, and Joel Miller was buried in it to the hilt, right at this very moment.

He was getting closer and closer.

Maybe it was your eagerness to help him reach his own release mingled with the pride you knew you would feel once you did that gave you a second wind, a fresh, new burst of energy. You planted your hands firmly on his pillow. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you curved your spine and pushed back onto Joel with purpose, meeting his thrusts halfway as you rode his aching length to the satiation that waited for him at the end.

“There’s my girl,” he rasped. “Oh fuckin’ Christ—”

No way he could live his life without you now.

He needed you.

He needed you so much more than you needed him.

Joel slipped an arm around your shoulders, across your chest.

“Oh!” you gasped as he then yanked you back, pulling you flush against him. The rough crash of your back against his chest, combined with the angle in which he was fucking you knocked the wind out of your lungs.

His lips were at the shell of your ear. “Stay,” he panted, his breath hot against your cheekbone. He wrapped his other hand lightly around your throat. Relentless, were his hips now—his movements had become frantic. Desperate. “Stay with me, baby.”

Even as you fought to catch your breath in the position he had you in, you picked up on the fact that he wasn’t asking you of it, nor was he demanding you of it.

He was begging you.

Him, the most feared man in this town. Begging you?

“Joel,” you choked.

“Please, my little dove,” he pleaded, turning your head towards him. His mouth was then on the corner of your own, his beard roughly scratching the soft and delicate flesh of your cheek. “I need you, babygirl. Stay with me. Please, just fuckin’ stay with me.”

Your hands curled around his wrists. “Yes, I’ll stay,” you moaned. “I’m yours, Joel. I’m all yours. I—I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll stay with you.”

A low, guttural sound rumbled through his chest. Joel firmly took hold of your cross, and without so much as a warning, he ripped the chain from around your neck and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. He heard it land on the hardwood floor with the tiniest, faint clink the moment he spilled into you, ropes of warm release coating your fluttering walls. Curses and groans spilled from his lips and into your neck. Your cunt clutched at his pulsing cock, greedy for every last drop of his spend she could get.  

Once you were filled, you both collapsed beside each other on the bed, heaving to catch a steady breath.

“Y’okay, sweetheart?” Joel managed to ask, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.

Exhausted, all you could do was nod and utter, “Mhm.”

He exhaled an amused huff through his nose. “C’mere.” He reached for you and pulled you against his side. He draped an arm around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as was possible. “Y’did so good, honey.”

Your mouth curled into a small, contented smile.

Several minutes had passed by, and despite telling him that you were too tired to even think about moving, Joel made you get up and use the bathroom, and while you did so, he ran a clean washcloth under warm water. “Here, darlin’. Let me clean you up,” he’d said, his lips meeting your forehead in a loving token of affection before he sank down onto one knee and ran the damp cloth along the insides of your thighs. He took extreme care when he wiped at your swollen folds, knowing you were still sensitive to the touch. “There we go. All done, now.”

Not long after, you were both back in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets.

Yawning, you nuzzled into bare his chest, your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier with each and every second that ticked by. You’d started drifting off when you heard his voice.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” you answered sleepily, eyes still closed.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Mean what, Joel?”

There was a brief pause. “Y’know, when you said you’d stay with me.”

Snuggling closer to him, you mumbled, “Mhm. Of course I did.”

“S’not gonna be easy,” Joel murmured into your hair.

“I know.” You yawned. “But I have you.”

“You do. You’ve got me—and I’ve got you, babygirl.”

“Mm. I know that too, Joel.”

You felt him kiss the top of your head and then fell fast asleep in his arms.

The sun bloomed over the Grand Tetons.

Your father would wake soon, that’s to say if he wasn’t up already.

The nerves began to set in.

Joel must have sensed it. “Breathe, baby. S’gonna be okay,” he soothed, squeezing your hand.

With one of his warmer, heavier jackets that normally didn’t see the light of day until winter season draped around your shoulders, the two of you made your way down the road and towards your house. Or better said, towards your father’s house. Because after what you were about to do, that yellow and white cottage would no longer be a place you could call home.

He led you up to the porch. “Y’sure you don’t want me to go in there with you?” he asked, quietly.

You could have laughed. You almost did.

“Do you believe that to be a wise choice?”

“No, I reckon it ain’t the best idea,” Joel admitted with a sigh, raking his free hand through his unkempt, salt and pepper hair. He looked up at the house, then back at you. “Look, little dove. No matter what happens in there, just know that everythin’ will be alright. M’gonna take care of you. For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. I’ll try my hardest to be everythin’ you need.”

“You already are, Joel,” you said, your gaze earnest.

His chest swelled with warmth.

Truth be told, Joel didn’t know how he had managed to defy the odds—how he, of all people, had managed to make his way into that sweet, innocent, beautiful little heart of yours, but somehow he did, and he would not take this responsibility lightly.

He brushed your lips with his and promised, “Gonna be waitin’ right here, okay?”

“Okay.” Inhaling deeply, you willed yourself to let go of his hand and took a step back. You then started up the porch steps on wobbling legs. When you made it to the top, you glanced over your shoulder at Joel, who gave you a subtle nod of encouragement. Exhaling slowly, you reached for the knob with trembling fingers and turned it, opening the door. You stepped inside, your heart dropping into your stomach when you saw your father sitting there at the foot of the staircase, as if he’d been waiting for you. He had been waiting for you. Fully dressed, he sat on the second to last step with both hands folded on his bible in his lap, a rosary clutched between them. “Papa?”

He said nothing. Instead, he silently observed you—his eyes glazed over the men’s jacket and the short dress you wore underneath it, the disheveled, loose hair and kiss swollen lips. Your holy cross nowhere to be seen.

“Papa.” You swallowed harshly and shifted your weight anxiously from the heel of one boot to the other. “We, um—we really need to have a talk.”

He peered around you, catching a brief glimpse of the man standing outside, waiting for you at the foot of the porch.

He cleared his throat, lightly. “Yes, child. I suppose that we do.”

Nodding tightly, you turned around and slowly closed the door. Joel’s words rang in your mind over and over, giving you the push of strength you knew you would need.

I’ve got you.

divider credit goes to @saradika 🤍

[bokunoheros]

"katsuki...!"

CHARACTER: KATSUKI BAKUGOU GENRE: SMUT, angst if you squint TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab (katsuki calls you princess once and it’s in mocking), swearing (obvi), hate/angry sex, reader and katsuki are childhood friends (to enemies) to fuck buddies, y’all’re in your 3rd yr of highschool, drool/spit, impact/quirk play, pussy spanking, mentions of blood,  WORD COUNT: 3.6k SUMMARY: you never seem to have a problem calling katsuki by his first name — except for in the bedroom, and he’s finally had enough of it. 🦊’s A/N: this is a repost bc i didn’t like the way this performed the first time // if you’ve read this before, no you havent

     one thing katsuki bakugou hated about you was the way you refused to call him by anything other than his first name—hell, you wouldn’t even call him kacchan, a name he had learned to barely tolerate without popping a blood vessel. 

     another thing he hated even more about you was the fact that whenever you two finally got over your horrid, god-awful sexual tension that the entire class was sick of, was the way you suddenly refused to call him katsuki. no, whenever he found himself fucking you in the dorms while everyone else is asleep, it was all you could do to whimper “bakugou—”, which pissed katsuki off to no end. the bedroom was the one place where you should be calling him by his first name and yet… you completely and utterly refused to do so! simply for the sole purpose of pissing him off and riling him up. 

     “ba–baku—ahh!” you cry as he shoves your face down into the mattress while giving your ass a hard smack. “christ!” you whine, voice muffled by the plush bedding. 

     “that’s not—m’fuckin’ name, and i think you know that, sweetheart.” his voice is overflowing with frustration and condescension as his hips smack against your ass repeatedly, heavy balls smacking against your throbbing clit.  

     “it— it’s lit–literally your name,” you correct him, arching your back deeper and wiggling your reddening rear. “fuck’s got you—ah!—all worked up, huh, bakugou?”

     he feels his eye twitch at your words, and he lets out a deep, frustrated growl before he’s smacking your ass again, this time with the addition of his quirk popping off once his large and very calloused hand came into contact with your bare, sweaty skin. 

     “fuck! goddammit!” you whine, hands desperately grabbing at his black sheets. “baku–gou!”

     “just—say my name fucking properly, dammit!” he demands, panting heavily as he continues to thrust his awfully girthy cock in and out of your snug little cunt. “you never seem to have a problem with it any other goddamn time!”

     “i— i dunno wh–what the fuck you’re talkin’ about,” you quip back, turning your head to the side in attempt to look back at katsuki — he doesn’t let you, though, as he shoves your face further into the bed, squishing your cheeks in the process, and you try to fight back against his grasp, but he’s just simply too strong for you to stand any real chance. and that pissed you off like nothing else. 

     katsuki could act the way he did because he had the firepower and skills to actually back his words. this always resulted in him absolutely dominating you in the bedroom, naturally. sometimes, you were able to give him a run for his money, but ultimately, he beat you out everytime, sexually bullying you into submission — physical submission, at least. you always had something nasty to spit out at him, regardless of the position he had you in or how meanly he was fucking into you.

     “sure, bitch,” he pants out, landing another cruel quirk-based impact to the tender flesh of your ass, and it’s all you can do to bite the pillow to keep from crying out. 

     “f-fine then, kacchan,” you smirk to yourself, beyond pleased with your answer. “‘s that bet—aa-ow! fuck! ba–bakugou!” you sob as he brings his right hand down hard against your asscheek, his quirk literally popping off as his calloused palm makes contact with your sensitive skin before he stills himself inside of you entirely.

     “alright—you wanna act like a brat? i’ll treat you like one then,” he says, eerily calm all of sudden. that wasn't like him. not at all. 

     oh, you were in trouble for real this time.

     the realization is slow to dawn on you, but once it does, you find your body moving faster than your brain can process, trying to scramble away from your fuck buddy, just for you to freeze at the feeling of him jerking you back by you hair, pulling you onto your knees and your naked back against his equally bare chest. one strong hand snakes down to between your soaked inner thighs and presses the calloused pad of one finger directly against your achy clit as his dick twitches deep inside you.

     “ba–baku—”

     “nuh-uh, say it properly,” he hisses, suddenly bringing that same hand down against your poor cunt.

     “ah! fuck!!” you cry, thrashing in his grip, hands coming up behind you to tangle into his spikyass hair. “you cunt!” you spit at him, tugging harshly at his roots, hard enough to tilt his head back, and this is where katsuki really begins to lose whatever little patience he had left. snatching your slimmer wrists in one large and rough hand, he pins them behind your back before he goes to bite at the junction of your neck and shoulder.

     “i’m the cunt?” he actually laughs in your ear before bringing his free hand down hard against the mound of your pussy, and you whimper like a bitch, squirming desperately in his grasp. “no, i think you’ve got a couple things backwards, honey,” he chides, voice gruff as a shit-eating smirk spreads across his unfairly handsome face. 

     “fuck, i can’t stand you,” you whine out, still struggling against katsuki’s all-too-tight grip. “l-let go, fuckface!” 

     rather than dignifying you with a verbal answer, bakugou simply strikes his palm against your bare cunt again, thick, calloused fingertips landing onto your puffy clit, causing you to hiss and bite your lower lip harshly to keep from squealing the way you knew he wanted you to. 

     “oh, don’t be like that,” he grunts, licking a hot stripe up your neck before sucking and nipping harshly at the skin there, sloppily laving his tongue over a few particularly sensitive spots before biting down cruelly against them. 

     while katsuki was not a sloppy person by any degree, he was stupidly messy when it came to his behaviors in the bedroom — he didn’t care where his spit or drool got, or even yours for that matter, where he came on you, none of it really mattered so long as he washed his sheets prior to sleeping in them. one thing he couldn’t stand was sleeping in a mess the two of you had made….. which was odd, because that’s often what he found himself doing..! absolutely crashing after fucking you almost to the point of going non-verbal before subconsciously cuddling you closer, just for you to be gone in the morning, like you were never there to begin with. 

     truthfully, he would find his heart aching ever so slightly at your absence before he quickly swallowed down whatever feelings that may have tried to well up to the surface before telling himself to get his fuckin’ shit together and going about his day — usually being the first to wake, yes, even before iida, so he could wash his sheets in private without any nosey extras around to ask stupid questions.

     but back to the topic at hand, getting you to moan his goddamn name!!

     “baku–gou!” you whine, hips squirming as your cunt flutters around his thick cock. “jesus christ!” 

     “huh? somethin’ the matter, princess?” he asks in that ever aggressive tone as the hand that had just spanked your now throbbing cunt comes up to meanly pinch one of your stiffened nipples. 

     “fuck—you!” you spit out, arms straining in his heated grasp.

     “that’s—shit, you’re so fuckin’ tight—exactly what ‘m doin’ right now, and you’re still bitchin’!” he hisses, grip on your wrists tightening substantially — so much so, you were sure there would be bruises in the morning. simultaneously, the feleing of his pelvis smacking against your sore ass as he began to pick up the speed at which he was fucking you had you groaning in pleasure.

     “god–dammit! bakugou!” 

     katsuki could not, for the life of him, understand why it was that you absolutely refused to call him by his first name in bed but in every other aspect of your lives! ever since you two were children, you always called him by his first name — never bakugou, never kacchan, always katsuki, or maybe some other variation of his name like katsu or tsuki if you really wanted to mess with him — so when you two Finally hooked up for the first time at the beginning of your third year of highschool, he definitely noticed when you called him by his surname for the first time since???? he can ever fucking remember. 

     what katsuki didn’t know, however, was that it was just far too intimate for you to call him by his first name as he fucks into you like there’s no tomorrow — for you had maybe have had a small crush on him when you two were in elementary school still, and then you had a massive falling out in middle school due to his, erm, prideful, arrogant, stick-your-nose-up, i’m-so-much-better-than-you attitude and god awful anger issues. 

     and then, once your first year of highschool rolled around, you were horrified to discover that you two would be in the same class together. …if only you could have predicted developing another stupid crush on bakugou, you never would have gone to u.a. — you should have just gone to shiketsu like your gut originally told you to. 

     because now here you were, being absolutely fucking railed during your senior year of highschool by somebody you’ve known most your life who you currently found yourself obsessing over in the worst possible ways. you found that your mind was always wandering to him when it wasn’t preoccupied with something else, and even when it was, it still found someway to link it back to katsuki fucking bakugou! how terrible it is to be in a love-hate relationship with someone you wish could love you back—instead, you were sure katsuki held only hatred and anger towards you, the same way he did with izuku back in their first year and all of middle school. but, ….so much. has happened since then, so surely, maybe, he might feel something for you too? 

     he did, in fact, feel so, so much for you, that he physically could not bear the weight of his emotions—the only way he seemed able to relieve any of them was when he was drilling into you like he fucking hated your guts, and even then, they only intensified and chipped ever so slowly away at his hardened heart that was secretly tender on the very inside because of how you denied him any real intimacy.

     “just say my fucking name, goddammit,” he growls, pulling out of you entirely and releasing your arms for but a moment to flip you around and onto the mattress so that you were laying on your back before grabbing the backs of your knees and simply folding you in half as he looks down between your bodies, lining his thick, throbbing dick up with your drooling slit and bottoming out in one go.

     the sudden change in, well, everything, leaves you disoriented, and just as you go to whine and bitch yet again, katsuki impulsively cuts you off with a kiss, breaking the one rule that he had set up before this whole arrangement began!! 

     “mmmh!” you squeal as the tip of his cock hits your cervix, but your noises are muffled by the way katsuki kisses you — hungrily, like you were a meal he didn’t know he had been craving for years, and he was finally getting to have to it for the first time. 

     in truth…. this was actually bakugou’s first kiss — he could never have been bothered with dating or showing any sort of romantic interest in anyone when that would just get in the way of his goal to become the number one pro hero, and yet…. here he found himself, hopelessly in love with you when he wasn’t even consciously aware of it, kissing you with a startling amount of passion and tongue and teeth. not that he didn’t know how to kiss, per se, he had seen plenty of fuckass movies that featured kissing, and he has to be the best at everything, of course, so it didn’t take him very long to figure out what he was doing. 

     with your legs thrown over his shoulders and spread apart, he was almost laying on you as he fucked into you fluidly, hips snapping back and forth, and it isn’t long before you find your arms wrapping around his neck and reluctantly kissing him back. you had to admit, the feeling of his plump lips felt nice against yours, and you had dreamt about kissing him for so long..! 

     nipping at your lower lip, katsuki’s tongue darts out to lick its way past your slightly parted lips and into your mouth, licking around the insides of your cheeks and over the grooves of your teeth. it’s aggressive and rough and brimming over with passion — everything you had imagined your first kiss with him to be and more. 

     “mmh, katsuki,” you mindlessly hum against his lips, too caught up in the moment, in the feeling of katsuki fucking bakugou initiating a kiss with you!, to realize just how intimate your current predicament was.

     katsuki, however, pauses in all that he was doing as his eyes fly wide open. 

     “what the fuck did you just say?” he asks, voice uncharacteristically quiet, as if he were scared the scene he found himself in would shatter before his very eyes—as if he could break it all, somehow. he was awfully good at breaking things, after all.

     “huh?” you yourself weren’t even aware of what you had said until a few moments later when it actually dawns on you. “oh. my god,” is all you’re able to say as your mind quickly begins reeling with too many overlapping thoughts for any of them to be coherent. 

     without saying anything else, bakugou resumes the way in which he was thrusting into you, kissing you feverishly once more. had he known that a little kiss was all it took for you to call out his name while he fucks you into next tuesday was all it took, then he would’ve kissed you the moment you two began hooking up.

     “b–baku—gou! slow down!” your request is swallowed whole by katsuki’s hot mouth as his tongue slips back into yours, teasingly swirling around your own wet muscle before he begins to suck on it, making you whimper and whine at the combined feeling of his dick pounding into you and this… tongue torture! (it wasn’t, actually—it felt a little too good if you were being honest; so good you were struggling to think.)

     “god–dammit!” he hisses when you call him by his surname again. nipping at the tip of your tongue so hard you swear you can taste blood, he brings one hand down in between your legs to aggressively rub at your pulsing clit. why? why can’t you just say my fucking name! he thinks angrily as he fucks you like there’s no tomorrow. 

     “mmh—aa–aah! mmfhgh—” it’s all you’re able to do to moan as your mind melts away while katsuki applies a little too much pressure to your poor little bundle of nerves. “shit–!” despite the firmness of the circles he was rubbing against the bud, it still felt so good—so good that your back arched deeply off his memory foam mattress and you were unable to contain the string of soft moans that left your throat at the sensation. 

     pulling away from the kiss, breathless and a little drooly, bakugou’s free hand comes up to squish your cheeks harshly, causing your lips to part.

     “stick out your tongue,” he says gruffly, and for once, you actually listen to him, which comes off as a bit of shock to the man currently on top of you, but he easily plays it off, before taking aim and spitting in your fucking mouth — directly on your already slick muscle!

     “fuck—” he rasps out, watching your tongue retract back into your mouth as you wordlessly swallow his saliva while looking up at him with half-lidded, hazy eyes. as a result, he was physically unable to help the way his calloused fingers moved to pinch at your sensitive clit or the way his mouth quickly reattached to your neck to begin biting and sucking at the skin there all over again. 

     “ka–katsuki—!” you whine as he bites a little too hard, and suddenly you feel something warm sliding down the length of your neck. had he drawn blood? no… surely not…… 

     his hips react on their own at your pitiful cry of his name, and he groans against the column of your throat, teeth now poised over your jugular before he bites down again — much gentler in comparison this time, but still hard enough to elicit a squeal from you. 

     your hands fly up to grip at his hair, burying themselves in his roots and giving a firm tug.

     “say it again,” he growls, pulling off your bruised skin with a wet pop! so he could meet your lustful gaze. ….god, his eyes looked so vulnerable right now; so glassy, with burning red irises and a glassy reflection, you can’t help but comply with his demand. you had never seen him like this before, so raw, dripping with (sweat and) passion as he hovers over you, narrowed eyes boring into yours. 

     “ka–katsu–! –ki!” you cry out when he begins rubbing circles into your clit again after giving it another rough pinch. “fuck! katsuki!”

     “that’s right–!” he grunts out, hips snapping against your as his cock throbs inside you. he’s getting closer to an impending orgasm and he needs you to cum first — it just went with his personality of “having to be the best at everything.” so, by extension, this included sex and his partner’s pleasure. mostly because the first time you two fucked, you absolutely did not get off, which you made very apparent to katsuki, who took it Personally (especially since you had called him useless for not being able to make you cum), and made it his mission to give you at least two different orgasms the next time you slept together—something he was rather successful in.

     now, he had half a mind to fuck you until your creamy little pussy was raw and he couldn’t cum anymore, just so you wouldn’t have a chance of forgetting tonight—the first time you called him by his first name in bed (which would ultimately end up being a monumental stepping stone in your future relationship development).

     pulling him in for another kiss, you whine incessantly as you roll your hips up, cunt fluttering around him as an uncomfortable knot begins forming in your tummy, and you can’t help but squirm beneath him. 

     unfortunately for you and your diminishing bratty resolve, it wasn’t much longer before you were cumming with a cry of katsuki’s name, his first name, as your back arches, pressing your chest flush against his, as one large and calloused hands of his comes to press against the small of your back, holding you in place as you cream all around his achy cock, and before he knows it, he’s cumming too, just barely managing to pull out of you as hot, sticky cum lands on your lower stomach and you groan at the nasty feeling. 

     “jesus—i don’t understand why you can’t just wear a condom,” you complain, panting heavily, unwrapping your arms from around his neck.

     katsuki only rolls his eyes at your complaint before telling you “it’s because he doesn’t like the feeling” of it, when in reality, it was so he could be that much closer to you… whether he would even admit it to himself or not. 

     with a heavy sigh and tired legs, you get up and out of his bed and make your way to his bathroom to clean yourself up before picking your clothes off his dorm room floor and getting dressed and leaving without a word, only sparing katsuki a parting glance as he recollects himself on his bed. 

     he doesn’t understand why his heart feels so goddamn heavy as he watches you leave soundlessly, and it feels like it takes him a million and one years to fall asleep, because whenever he opens his eyes, it had gone from 2am to 5am, and he bitches out a groan before getting up to do his fucking laundry before anyone else decided to get up. as he does, though, he can’t help but think about you….. why? what was it about you that caught his attention? why couldn’t he just ignore these feelings? jesus fucking christ, he needs professional help. 

     and so, katsuki spends the time it takes to wash his sheets thinking of you, much to his chagrin, but… he just could not get you out of his mind, for better or for worse. fuck. maybe he would have to call off this whole ordeal. maybe that would fix him? ….fuck, his head hurts. stop thinking so much, idiot, it’s too early to get caught up in your feelings, he mentally berates himself, even though for him, it was always too early to get caught up in his feelings. whatever.

      after pulling his sheets from the dryer, he silently walks back to his room, passing yours in the process, where he stops and stares for a very brief moment, almost, almost contemplating knocking before he quickly carries on back to his dorm where he makes his bed in record time before going the fuck back to sleep. ….where he still thought about you. god save him.

K. BAKUGOU M.LIST

[hihomeghere]

Dreams | Arthur Morgan/Reader

Word Count : 1.1k Summary : Arthur starts having dreams of starting a family with you Warnings/tags : Cursing, fluff, mention of infidelity, just Arthur being a sweet guy <3

He knows he shouldn’t feel like this. Shouldn’t be having these thoughts, because all they are just dreams. They’re never going to become a reality. Not when they’re constantly on the move, running from place to place. He sees the way it affects Jack, poor kid, not knowing what the hell is going on. And his daddy doesn’t exactly help him understand. 

He can’t even say he would be a better father, he wasn’t before. 

Hell you two ain’t even married yet, and he’s not that much of a fool. Not anymore. His regret for not marrying Eliza weighs heavily on him most days, even if he didn’t love her in that way. Now you on the other hand, he loves you more than anything. More than this stupid gang, more than life itself. He would happily lay down his life if he knew you would be happy, safe. 

When these thoughts enter his head, he can’t say. His days sort of blend together, making it hard to pinpoint. Although seeing you interact with Jack doesn’t help. 

You are so sweet, so motherly, hell you even mother the younger folks in the gang. Soft touches, kind words, but internally strong. You have all the qualities he finds attractive in a woman. Somehow you fell for him just as hard as he fell for you. 

But he ain’t a fool, he knows this ain’t the right time or place. So instead he writes down all these dreams in his journal, his safe place. The place where he can say anything without being judged. He dreams of little girls, he didn’t know how to interact with Isaac. Too afraid of being his own father. Girls seem less daunting, and a little you would be perfect. He already has one angel, what’s one more?

He comes up with the name while north of Brandywine Drop. The bright purple flowers caught his eye just off the trail.

Violet.

Violet Beatrice Morgan.

His heart sings, scribbling the name down in the margins of his journal. He finds himself writing VM in his journal, smiling foolishly to himself. It’s beautiful, his precious flower. 

It’s not like you meant to snoop. You were looking for Arthur, since he was nowhere to be found. You entered his tent, which in reality wasn’t much of a tent at all, finding his journal open. You walked over to it, looking over the worn page. There were the normal doodles he drew, along with his flowing hand writing. But one thing stood out to you, a pair of initials circled by hearts. VM.

You furrowed your brows, you couldn’t think of anyone you knew with the initials VM. Those definitely weren’t your initials either. 

With your curiosity peaked you flipped through a couple more pages. VM was written everywhere, along with those damn little hearts. 

You felt that little green monster grow inside you the further you looked into his journal. Biting your cheek so hard you could taste blood. It did nothing to quench the fire inside of you. 

“Darlin?” Arthur called walking into the so-called tent. You dropped the journal back onto the table, turning to face him. “There you are.” He grinned walking towards you.

“Here I am.” You said forcing a smile.

“Hosea said you were looking for me.” He said softly, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, "Anything you need?”

“Must have forgot.” You said with a noncommittal shrug, “I ought to get back to work.” You nod walking past him. Arthur furrowed his brow at your attitude. Did he say something to offend you?

Then his eyes fall onto his open journal. His stomach drops at the sight. Jesus, you saw. You saw all of it. You were probably thinking the worst, seeing the initial surrounded by hearts. How was he gonna fix this?

You stomped off to the edge of camp, trying to wrack your brain as to who this VM could be. And why was Arthur drawing hearts beside the initials? Maybe you had this all wrong, Arthur would never do anything to hurt you. He was a good man, a man you could trust. Wasn't he?

“Y/n!” He called trailing behind you, a crestfallen expression on his face. You stopped at the tree lining, biting your lip as you turned to face him. “I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can.” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I-“ He sighed looking down, pinching the bridge of his nose as he let out a low curse. 

“Who is she?” You asked clenching your jaw. He furrowed his brows looking up at you.

“What?” He asked, his hands settling on his hips.

“VM, the girl you keep drawing hearts around. Who is she?” You were blunt, something he loved so much. Always telling it like it is, never leaving him to guess your feelings. A small smile spread on his face, which only made you more mad. “Seriously, you think this is funny?” You hissed, taking a step towards him. Arthur only had one choice, to tell you the truth. 

“Violet.” He said softly, reaching for you. “Violet Morgan.” You let him wrap his hand around your forearm, pulling you close to his chest.

“Who is Violet Morgan?” You asked, swallowing thickly. He sighed, looking off to the side, wetting his lips.

“She’s uh-“ He shook his head, a nervous smile on his lips. “She’s not exactly real, not yet at least.” He said. 

You shook your head, brows knitted together, “Not real? The hell you mean, not real?”

“I-“ He rubbed the back of his neck looking down, “It’s uh- shit.”

“Spit it out Morgan.” You huff throwing your arms up. 

“I thought of a name,” He explained, “A name for a girl if we- if we have one some day.” He said with a shrug, his cheeks flushed, almost as though he had been in a scuffle. 

Oh.

If we have one some day. 

“Oh Arthur.” You said softly, a smile spreading across your face. Feeling suddenly very foolish for doubting your man. “That's so sweet.” You took a step forward, tilting his face up to look at you. 

“Yeah?” He asked, looping his fingers in his gun belt. 

“Yeah.” You repeated, nodding. “Jesus you had me scared you were gonna tell me you found someone else.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Never. There ain’t no one else in this goddamn world that could replace you.” He said his hand reached up to cup your face. “You’re uh- you’re it for me darlin.” His bright blue eyes peered into yours, love and affection pouring out in his expression. 

“When we have our girl.” You said brushing away a stray strand of honey brown hair, “Violet will be a perfect name.” He grinned, wrapping a hand around your waist.

“Guess it’s settled then.” He said as he leaned down to press his lips against yours.

[bunnys-kisses]

the dnf club (vol. 2)

franco colapinto

tags: smut/pwp, brazil gp '24, rough sex, frustration, rough sex, modified doggy style, semi-public/closet sex, quiet sex

a/n: this is a little series of one shot fics because these poor guys all got dnfs at the brazil gp! this one in particular was inspired by an ask i got in my inbox after the gp! so thank you lovely anon! <3

carlos edition // alex edition // lance edition // nico edition

franco knew that his seat was still hanging in the balance. it felt like formula one was going through drivers faster than anything. one wrong move and they were out, replaced with another hopeful, who may or may not yield the same results.

it left the argentinian in a state of anxiety. after talks with the team you came over to him with a frown on your face. you weren't upset that he had to sit out of the race. but rather upset that he was upset. and when you collided into him and wrapped your arms around him tightly.

he simply held onto you a little tighter.

you ended up in the supply closet close to the williams garage. you ended up up against a wall of shelves with your skirt pushed up to expose the roundness of your ass.

"franco." you swallowed as you heard the unzip of his uniform. you couldn't see him, but you could only imagine the look on his face. you knew he was riled up, beyond upset at his weekend.

you believed he was a future champion, a hopefully for 2025. you knew he beat himself up a little more than more established drivers. he was still a small fish in a big pond. any dnfs could hinder a promise of a career.

"please." he said, "let me." his hand grazed the roundness of your ass before he took your panties and pulled them down to your ankles, "nothing more i need right now than you, my love." he then kissed the center of your clothed back.

you were in a williams t-shirt tucked into your skirt, not to mention the bracelet you made from plastic beads that spelled out his name. you looked like a real fan girl, and in fairness, you were franco's number one fan. (on top of being his girlfriend).

he admired your backside, as much as he would've loved to get you full undressed and admire your naked beauty. you two had to be quick. he could admire you when you got back to the hotel room.

"you're so beautiful." he admired as he ran a hand up the side of your thigh, "i want you so badly. i always want you." he shuddered with want as he sank his cock into you with heated affection. fucking with his driver's suit still on was a bit of a challenge as his fireproofs stuck to his skin as he got hotter.

you replied, "you always have me, franco." you quickly covered your mouth with your hand as to not be too loud. you didn't want the team to find your boyfriend's cock inside of you.

franco felt better when he started to move against you. with the thump of his chest as he battered his cock against your sweet core. he pressed his cheek up against your back as he moved your foot up against a lower shelf to get the best angle of your sticky sweet cunt. he panted heavily against your clothed back as he continued to rut against you.

"you'll win it next time, my love." you said with a bit of strain in your voice as he moved up against you. you felt a swirl of hear in your head as he moved up against you. you loved the feeling and the risk of being caught only added a rush to your system.

he kissed your back before he rested his cheek against your once more, he had you positioned in a way that allowed him to sink his cock into the deepest parts of you. he could feel your racing heartbeat against his back and it made his cock twitch. he needed you, he wanted you, every way he could have you. he was still wound up from the dnf, but being with you alleviated a bit of the emotional pain.

how could he upset when he had his lovely girlfriend's pussy to fuck?

you were trying to hold onto the shelves for some sort of leverage, you felt the hammering in your chest as the sounds of sex filled the small space. you felt heated, your hair stuck to places you didn't want it to. you covered your mouth once more to keep from being too loud. the waves of heat across your skin as the two of you fucked like rabbits in a supply closet.

you squeaked a little when you heard people walking by. their voiced muffled by the door, and you squeezed your eyes shut to keep yourself quiet. franco only fucked you harder, bouncing you up against his cock with a heated want. you felt the pleasure flood your brain and when the people on the other side of the door were further away, a stray moan left your lips.

franco groaned a little bit against your back, "when we get back to the hotel room." he whispered, "i want you screaming with how good i make you feel." and that only made you wetter.

you nodded and held onto the metal shelves a little tighter. you could feel something made of plastic dig into your skin. but there was little time to worry about that. franco decorated your neck with kisses, when his lips grazed the back of your neck you felt your nipples grow hard, they rubbed up against your bra which only fueled your pleasure.

while this wasn't the ideal place to fuck, it was something exciting. which only spurred you both on. franco's pace became brutal as he whispered in your ear, "all mine." he said, "you know that. no one else would let me take out all the anger out on them. all my frustration. that's why you're my number one. i love you more than anything." he wrapped his arms around your middle and bounced you onto his cock, "only you."

a few things clattered around on the shelves and you let out a moan, you almost made you lip bleed as you bit down on it as to not be painfully loud. even though there was more commotion outside, you didn't want to draw attention to your sexual escapade in the supply closet.

you prayed that no one needed an extra rag or a spare wrench while franco's cock was buried into you. at least your lover had the decency to lock the door. allowing a bit more privacy. regardless of it all, you felt the immense pleasure in your core. you felt the heat between you two.

your noises were muffled, and your breathing got heavier. franco's pace staggered and the two of you were rutting against one another with a frantic need for climax. you could find soft intimacy somewhere where curious eyes won't listen in.

his strong arms around you as he thrusted up into you made you feel protected. you felt the swim of pleasure in your core as the two of you continued to move against one another. it was a heated euphoria that soon found its climax.

you clamped a hand over your mouth once more and squeezed your eyes shut, your entire body tensed and you almost lost your balance as you came around his cock. franco could make out you saying his name which only encouraged him to keep fucking you.

his cock was slick with your wetness, sticky to the touch as it dripped down to the base of his cock. he knew the front of his driver's suit was a mess. he'd need to change before he got shoved in front of the press. with a few more heavy strokes he finished inside of you. his jaw tense as he tried to keep himself quiet from the gut punch of pleasure.

you rested further against the shelves and franco against your back. it wasn't long before he pulled out and tucked himself back into his suit. with your panties back on and your skirt straightened out. you turned to your lover and kissed him deeply on the lips.

"all better?" you asked softly.

he held you by the hips, his smiled bright as he said, "of course, you make everything better, my love." then kissed you once more. the frustration had melted off of his skin. he felt almost renewed, that the next race would be better.

you two kissed a little more before you both slinked out of the closet, thankful not to be caught. however franco would overhear later on about the smell in the supply closet. he grinned at the rim of his water bottle as he heard, "yeah, it smells like sex in that." <3

[2knightt]

Do you think u could write abt the gang being (separately) absolutely obsessed with the reader. Like they adore everything she does, they can’t get enough of her. To the point where the rest of the gang starts releasing them abt it, meanwhile reader is like completely oblivious lol

୧ ׅ𖥔 ۫ heaven and hell were words to me.⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH! the greasers are totally obsessed!

tags/warnings: no confessions—just the gang having a crush, gang being literally whipped, them being a little odd, kinda toxic!johnny LFMAO, nothing else to my knowledge

ೃauthor notes⁀➷ i’m just working…working hard so i can please you.(shout out to ema/corvyes/loml for that ref.) but if i get a req asking me for like the gng confessing to you—i will do it. trust.

Dallas Winston

WHEN HE’S DRUNK, YOU’RE ALLLL HE TALKS ABOUT LMFAOOOO

“i’m tellin’ you—there ain’t a girl like her.”

dallas would repeat after what felt like this 5th drink of the night. buck is sick of him, two-bit regrets dragging him along, and dallas just wants to tell them how good you looked today.

when he sees you walking home, to school, or to work he WILL tag along. HE DOESN’T GAF IF YOU TELL HIM TO TAKE A HIKE!

actually, he kinda does. you’re like the only person he listens to.

LMFAOOO THE GANG THREATENS TO CALL YOU OVER WHENEVER DALLAS IS DOING SMTH STUPID

like whenever you threaten a kid ur gna tell santa.

“dallas, i’m gonna tell y/n what you did last week.”

“??if you do, i’ll beat your head in, soda.”

“YIKES..i’m gonna have to tell her that too…”

“…don’t, she’d be so mad at me😔😒.”

THE GANG TEASES DALLAS THE WORST(besides ponyboy) ABOUT YOU LFNAOAOAOAO

like they’re shoving him toward you, nudging him at even the slightest mention of you, giggling as they tell him they seen you today.

“look, it’s your girlfriend.”

“steve, shut up! she ain’t deaf!”

—

“GO SEE HER!”

“OW—i mean—hi, y/n.”

“did you…trip? or did you mean to bump into me?”

“yeah, sorry or whatever. some IDIOT back there pushed me.”

—

“guess who i saw..🥰🥰”

“who?”

“your wife…”

“can you NOT.”

despite all that, you somehow, still don’t know how he feels about you. how? we’ll never know. it’s beyond the human mind.

his friends try and hint at you that the big, bad greaser has a school girl crush on you. do you get what they’re trying to say? no. but that’s okay, you’re just a girl.

lowkey pisses dallas off but that’s okay cuz he prefers admiring from afar. DOES HOWEVER ASK YOU TO HANG OUT AND CONSIDERS THEM A DATE IN HIS HEAD TO KEEP HIM SANE LFMAO

“you wanna go see this drag race tomorrow?”

“sure! i don’t have work then. uhm, pick me up at my place!”

“alright, cool.”

‘yeah..,it’s date🥱😍’ — dallas’ brain.

Johnny Cade

‘johnny, if you even fucking stutter when you talk to her today—you’re gonna have to drink pickle juice.’

“oh, hi. i didn’t see you there, johnny. ‘m sorry.”

“o-oh—it’s alright.”

‘well, shit.”

he thinks he looks like such a fucking loser when he talks to you omfg😭😭

the gang tries to tell him he might have a shot but he thinks they’re just telling him that because he’s their friend. :(

HEAVILY admires from afar. like seriously he’s a fucking stalker

WAIT LMFOAOO HE’D BE THE TYPE OF GUY TO ACCIDENTALLY STALK YOU LIKE HE’D FOLLOW YOU PLACES FROM AFAR LMFAOAOAOOAOA

what a little freak

anyways

he accidentally lets things slip to let you know he’s better than any other guy trying to go after you. like if you had a shitty ex—he’s preaching that he’d ‘never treat you like that, he can’t imagine that a guy with a brain ever would.’

johnny does everything to keep your attention on HIM and nobody else when your friends try and talk to you when you two are out together. like you could be having a conversation with him and he’d be just pouting in the background with his arms crossed.

“y/n, look. they got that shirt you was talkin’ ‘bout. let’s go check it out. c’mon.” “oh—alright! bye, viv!😊” “yeah, bye viv.😒”

side eyes the gang whenever they bring you up in conversation

“johnny and y/n sittin’ in a tree—“

“😒🤨”

“alright.”

he tries to subtly hint that he really likes you and that you’re his type but it’s not subtle at ALL.

“y’know, if i were to have a girlfriend, i’d wish she was like you.”

—

“my type? uhm, it’d probably be someone-“ and he goes on to describe you.

Ponyboy Curtis

‘holy fuck that’s literally y/n walking towards me??!! does she know i’m here—does she even know me-wow she looks good in red. i mean—SHE’S WAVING OH MY GOD.’

HE IS SUCH A WRECK I CANTTT

ponyboy is the type to stare off into space in your direction and dream about how well he’d treat you if he was your man!!

yk how bitches be like ‘my man, my man!’ whenever they talk about their crush?? he’s all ‘my girl, my girl!’ WUAGRMRNEE

the gang was so confused on why he was so eager to go to school all of a sudden?? and why he cares about his appearance just slightly more than usual?? …is that soda’s shirt he’s wearing?-

two-bit was the first one to realize what was happening when he seen ponyboy and you talk in the halls. that wasn’t the giveaway, though.

it was the way he stared at you like you were the only girl alive and everyone else was just gone. two-bit was almost moved to tears to see ponyboy all grown😞😞!!!

“is tha’ your girlfriend? that why you couldn’t wait ‘til monday?”

“shut up!”

“ouuu, wait until the gang hears ‘bout this!”

“YOU AIN’T TELLIN’ ‘EM NOTHIN’!”

ever since — it has been hell on earth for ponyboy. dallas brings you up every time ponyboy gets smart, johnny giggles at every kissing scene at a movie nudges him, soda and darry had to give him ‘the talk,’ (soda just made it worse by making snide remarks.) and steve never stopped poking fun at him.

two-bit tried to get you to spill the beans on how you felt about him, but all you’d do was huff and ignore him. FINE THEN😒!—is what he always thought.

soda, johnny and two-bit all let ponyboy rant about you.

“LIKE, BRO. my girl, my girl! she’s so cute and smart. LIKE SHE’S TOTALLY MY DREAM.”

—

“that’s so cute ☹️” - soda

“SHE WANTS YOU SOO BAD” - two-bit

“just go tell her, man.” - johnny

does everything to impress you stoppp 😭😭!! pony is trying harder in school, using less hair grease, wearing darry’s cheap cologne when he’s not looking, etc.

HE’S SO SILLY I LOVE HIM!!!

Sodapop Curtis

delusional king!!! yes soda, let the voices in your head tell you that she wants you so bad!!🫶🫶

swear to goddd he thinks y’all are meant to be. you tipped him when he was working at the cash register and he was sooo in love

sorry in my head he’s a hopeless romantic

cause a) you were gorgeous, b) kind enough to tip him, and c) most likely rich💯💯

when he seen you at random places with your friends—soda would get so excited LMFAOOO

STOP HE’D HOUND PONY FOR YOUR NAME

“bro they probably go to your school—just lemme look at your yearbook!”

“no??? you weirdo???”

“please??!! i’ll do the dishes or something!”

“….get me a pack of cigarettes and i’ll tell you.”

“OKAY🥰🥰”

stole them but pony never said how to get them so who gaf!!!

SODA WOULD TOTALLY WRITE YOUR FIRST INITAL + HIS LMFAOOAOAOAOAA

or he’d see who’s last name went best with curtis or your last name!!!1!1!1

he’s crazy insane over you did i say that already

whenever you come by the dx—he’d give you shit for free while you insist to pay.

“jus’ take it.”

“i can’t—i’d feel terrible.”

“it’s alright, no one has to know. right?”

he’d flash his million dollar smile, pushing your coke and chips close to you, inciting you to just take the food.

WAJENEDKD he wants u so bad it’s. so terrible.

steve hates his rambles

“YOU SHOULDA SEEN THE WAY ME AND HER WAS TALKING—SHE’S SO INTO MEEEE”

“yeah, she wants you!!! shut up now!!”

Darry Curtis

nobody knows. it’s like a top secret only darry knows. the gang has their suspicions but they can never really know why darry is suddenly so adamant on going to go get him, soda, and pony’s hair done at the salon.

they alllll can see that he only really talks to you—but at the same time he does that weird ass dad stance where they stand with their arms crossed and legs far apart LMFAOOOOO

darry thinks you’re like…model fine btw.!!!!!

BROOO WHEN YOU LIKE UNCONSCIOUSLY MASSAGE HIS HEAD WHEN YOURE CUTTING IT—HE’S SOO READY TO JUST ASK YOU OUT

darry doesn’t know what it is but goddamn!! you have him in a spell!!

“c’mon—we gotta go to the salon again.”

“….we just went?”

“TWO WEEKS AGO. it’s about time we go AGAIN.”

does in fact work a little extra just so he can see you. he’s that much of a loverboy i fear.

HE DOES ACTUALLY NOT WAIT TO ASK YOU OUT

like, among all the gang, he’s the only one mature enough to actually flirt with you properly & to ask if you’re single.

darry’s fucking down like that.

AWWHHH HE TOTALLY BUYS YOU FLOWERS AS A ‘THANK YOU’ GIFT LOL

flexs his strength around you to prove he’s worthy !!! DARRY LOVEEESSS SHOWING OFF WHEN YOU’RE LOOKING

megara + hercules methink…..

you two probably started hanging out as ‘friends.’ …yeah right!!!!

he’s driving you around as you be his pretty little passenger princess, he’s offering to buy you things when you two are out, etc, etc.

darry might not know how to show that he likes you, but trust me, the second that you look a little too far into his actions—it gets obvious.

like maybe too obvious idk.

Steve Randle

HELLLOOOO??? HE IS TOTALLY SHOWING OFF HIS GYMNASTICS MOVES AROUND YOU

“bro, bro! (yes he’d call you bro. idgaf.) watch what i can do!!😊😊” “wowwww, steve that’s so cool.”

geeks out near you. when you aren’t around the average person would see him and go ‘jesus christ, he literally might beat my ass.’ but when you’re around, they might think, ‘why is that scary looking guy talking about cars and comic books rn??’

you bring out the nerd in him in the best way possible🫶😊 BECAUSE THAT MEANS HE LIKE LIKES YOUUUUUUU

and it’s so obvious to the gang bc wdym steve told you all about DC comics while all they got was a ‘yeah, it’s alright.’ …hm…..

soda NEVER shuts the fuck up and him and his little girlfriend. NEVERRREE

“why’re you so pouty today? y/n ain’t say hi?”

“bro, shut up!”

steals for you and gives them to you all proud like he paid for it LMFAO

tries to be sooo cool around you but the second you bring up the latest batman comic he’s all “OMGOMGOMGOMG IT WAS SOO GOOD!! DID YOU SEE THE-“ he’s a loser what can i say.

dallas totally flirts with you in front of steve just to piss him off LOLLL like when he sees dallas twirling your hair around his finger steve is just all “???🤨🤨😡😡”

and then becomes your knight in shining armour and swoops you away as he glares daggers at dally!!!!<3

Two-bit Mathews

he becomes the funniest man on the planet i’m not joking

he says jokes that anybody and everybody will laugh at. just because he wants to see you laugh at what he says for his delusions

two-bit thinks like ‘she laugh=she likes me’

he’s not the brightest but it’s okay

HE MAKES IT SOOO KNOWN THAT HE LIKES YOU LFMAOOOOOO

“you’re lookin’ pretty? who’s the fella?” / “gee, i didn’t believe when they said they seen an angel walkin’ around until now.” / “well, now you owe me dinner.”

shit like that

two thinks he’s soooo smooth…smh.

DALLAS AND PONYBOY SO BADLY WANTS HIM SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY ABOUT YOU LMFAOOO

they keep on telling him just to confess already but then two gets all giggly and shy and goes “omg guys noooo🤭🤭🤭🫣🫣”

just coincidentally runs into you everywhere you go!!! (literally has eyes everywhere. he’s weird. he’s odd.)

follows you around like a lost puppy and lowkey kinda gossips. idk.

[inevesgf]

UNDER THE LIGHTS • LANDO NORRIS

catching lando norris' eye at a halloween party isn't the best of attention you could ensnare, especially when you're masking your not-so-innocent personality with white wings and a halo.

content + warnings: 18+ smut with plot, p in v, female!reader, swearing, dirty talking, semi-public sex, no strings attached, mentions of alcohol + drinking, slightly intoxicated sex, clitorial stimulation, teasing!reader, mentions of bruises, unprotected sex. word count 2.5k.

even though lando isn't one of my favorite drivers, damn he is so fun to write for. if you would like to be tagged in upcoming works from this special, click the link here ⋆·˚ ༘ * notes + reblogs are heavily appreciated and don't forget to tell me your thoughts via comment, reblog or ask.

as you entered the party an intoxicating mix of laughter and music filled your ears, the bright lights casting shadows that danced upon the wall. light smoke filtered through the air, adding to create the perfect atmosphere as your friends piled in behind you. 

dressed in a flowing white gown that draped elegantly on your body, you looked like a vision of light — an unexpected twist for someone who usually wore their sarcasm like armor. oversized wings – feathered and slightly askew – fluttered behind you as you glided into the crowd. a halo perched atop your head, glimmering with an almost mocking brilliance.

you were beyond the frame of innocence or elegance, which almost made your costume all the more perfect, masking your true nature. even though you had thrown the outfit together with items from your closet, eyes hungrily fell onto you as you made your way deeper into the party, a certain pair catching your own gaze with a look of mischief.

it wasn’t until you looked forward and saw lando with his jaw slightly slack that you knew that you had picked the right costume. besides his external shock, there was a hint of a smirk that formed on his lips, his eyes hungry for something that made your stomach turn in excitement.

floating through the crowd, you swiped a shot from the tray a wait-staff member held above their shoulders, you pulled the glass to your lips, quickly downing the alcohol inside.with a satisified hum from your lips, you began your advance towards lando, the amber liquid swirling inside you like a tiny storm as you discarded the empty shot glass onto a nearby table.

“an angel at a party full of sinners,” lando’s voice erupted over the pounding sound of the music, “that’s pretty ironic. couldn’t find a better costume?” a roaring laugh fell past his lips, causing you to playfully roll your eyes before scanning his body. “i could say the same for you – you look exactly like how you dress everyday. it’s a little souless.” you teased, sucking your bottom lip under your teeth as a look of mischief decorated your face.

lando grumbled, taking a sip of the murky gin and tonic that he held lazily in this hand, taking a step closer in order to hear your voice better over the loud music. “i’m a vampire, duh!” he jokingly grumbled, looking down at you with a hint of admiration in his eyes, though his words didn’t show it. “it’s a funny act you got going on, yknow – dressed all innocent, but everyone here knows you’re anything but that.”

you forced out a dry laugh at his words, adjusting the halo that sat above your head as if to mock him. the playful banter between you two was barely audible over the blasting music, but then tension in the air was palpable. “next year, i’m going as the devil. much more fitting, don’t you think?” you cocked, the same stupid smirk decorating your face as if to egg him on with your words, itching to get under his skin.

“definitely,” lando snickered, leaning in just a tad more to the point you could feel the heat radiating off his body, “because right now you’re not fooling anyone.” a satisfied hum fell from your lips, knowing his words were mostly correct. your eyes pooled into his hazel ones as if to undress him simply with your gaze. with hungry eyes, you looked over his costume, his slightly unbuttoned white button-up working perfectly as it fit snug upon his triceps.

“do you bite? since you’re a vampire and all..” a teasing tone poisoned your words, a challenging look decorating your visage. lando chucked dryly at your words, a smirk of surprise coming to rest on his face. he took a small step forward, bringing his head down so he could whisper in your ear, “only if you want me to.” the words sent a shiver down your spine, the smitten look that laid upon your face only growing larger.

you brought your finger to your lips, shushing lando as you pulled him by the collar into the bar bathroom, locking the door behind the two of you. almost immediately, lando’s calloused hands were on you, his fingers carefully trailing down your body as his lips met yours. the kiss was sloppy and hungry, your bodies pulled tightly against each other as the alcohol only suited to broaden the moment. 

lando’s hands came down to grip your ass, pulling the hem of your dress up slightly as he squeezed the flesh, eliciting a soft moan from your lips into the kiss. his touch all over you made you feel dirty, and you loved it, your previous sexual tension now finally able to have a place to release itself.

as lando began to pull the hem of your dress up, bunching it around your waist to reveal your lacey thong, you laughed into the kiss, your lips briefly detaching from his. “so eager, huh?” you teased, yet your fingers found themselves delicately coming to unbutton his button-up, your gaze eating him up like a full course meal.

“only for you,” lando growled, his hands lazily resting up your hips as you began to undress him, “especially when you dress like this – all sweet and innocent when i know deep down you’re so dirty.” you laughed sweetly, letting his shirt fall off his shoulders and onto the bathroom floor as you brought your soft lips to his jawline, placing a delicate kiss on his cheek.

“wanna find out?” you breathed against your skin, your manicured nails eagerly finding their way to undo his black dress pants. lando’s breath caught in his throat at your confidence, the usual dominant man melting in your touch. “i’d be sick and twisted to say no,” he smirked, letting your hands dance all over your skin.

as if to regain any bit of dominance he could have had, lando picked you up, his strong arms wrapping around your thighs as he set you onto the sink counter. a small giggle escaped your mouth before you bit your bottom lip, tangling the flesh under your teeth. landos lips immediately landed on your nip, licking and sucking sweetly at your soft skin as he stood between your legs, spreading them with his action.

as he peppered your neck with kisses, his teeth joining in on his movements as he marked your skin, his fingers hooked under the waistband of your thong, eager to rid you of it. a soft moan escaped your lips as you let your head rest on the mirror behind you, yours eyes closed as your breath became labored. “mhm, yeah, take them off, baby,” you hummed, spreading your legs even more before propping your heels up onto the table you sat upon.

lando didn’t waste any time pulling your thong down your legs, discarding it on the floor with his shirt and the white halo you had lazily pulled off your head. his eyes danced around your body as your cunt was revealed to him, your core glistening with your arousal from lando’s lingering gaze and passionate touches. 

“so fucking wet f’me already,” lando growled, one of his hands coming to rest on your inner thigh as he whispered into your ear, “want me to touch you, huh? make you mine, pretty girl?” his erotic words sent a shiver down your spine, your body finding itself on a euphoric high from his touch.

“yeah, fuck me like i’m all yours,” you moaned back, your voice low and sultry as one of your hands found its way in his curls, twirling them slightly between your fingers. lando groaned at your words, your actions only serving for lando’s boxers to tighten more at his arousal.

his fingers danced up your thigh, getting closer and closer to your cunt that throbbed with need. the tension in the room was palpable, the sweat beading across lando’s forehead only displaying to dire need between the two of you as his fingers continued their travel, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. 

when his cold fingers make contact with your clit, you let out a satisfied moan before reconnecting your lips with lando’s, kissing him feverishly. lando reciprocated, kissing you as if you were the only source of oxygen left on the planet – like if ge didn’t kiss you, he would die. his fingers worked magic around your clit, rubbing tight circles that had your mouth widening against his lips, impatient moans slipping through.

“you like that, huh?” lando teased, his voice escaping at a low growl as his lips brushed against yours, his fingers starting to pick up the pace. you squirmed under his grasp, whines that lando would call pathetic and needy escaping your mouth as you bucked your hips into his touch.

“fucking love it,” you grunted through heavy pants, small little moans escaping your parted lips, “fuck me.” the melodic noises that escaped from you sounded like music to lando’s ears as he chucked dryly at your whiny plea, the vibration sending a tingle straight through your body. 

lando was incredibly turned on by everything about you. from the way you teased him, to your moans and your beautifully wet cunt: it was all so perfect to him. he quickly finished undressing himself, pulling his boxers to his thighs to reveal his painfully hard cock, the tip flushed a deep red as precum leaked from it.

the sight was beautiful, your eyes scanned his tone abs and his hard-on as it took center stage. your panting picked you, your body desperate for any form of touch as lando neared you, your legs spreading even more to reveal the mess between your legs. “so beautiful,” lando hummed, positioning himself between your thighs as his hazels eyes looked down on you, his gaze dark and hungry.

his tip teased your entrance, rubbing smooth circles around your clit which dragged a small moan from your lips. the loud bumping of the music could be heard outside the stuffy bathroom, but the sound only continued to drown out as lando pressed into you, your head spinning at the contact.

pushing his hard, thick cock into you, lando grunted, starting to thrust at a pace that was slow enough to already have you begging for more. whines and whimpers left your lips as lando grunted, the deep gaze of his eyes never leaving yours despite the fact you struggled to keep yours open.

“i didn’t know you were so sensitive,” lando cocked, a teasing tone dripping from his words as he fucked harder into you, your knuckles turning white as your fingers dug into his shoulders, “so messy already and i’ve barely begun yet.” his words had you reeling, your clouded mind hardly pushing out a reaction, yet your body jerked, your highs pushing up to meet his thrust. 

“you fuck like a mad-man,” you groaned out, hooded eyes staring into his as his dick twitched inside you, your tight cunt holding him snuggly between your walls. lando chuckled dryly once more, your words only suiting to egg him on more as his thrust grew more rapid, sloppy.

lando licked his lips, sweat beading at his forehead as he tried to regain rhymatic thrusts, the tip of his hardened cock never falling to slam into your g-spot as he gripped your thighs. you couldn’t help but let out borderline pornographic moans as you swallowed his cock whole with your cunt, the air in the room stuffy and hot with the aroma of lust.

lando adjusted his angle, his cock only fucking harder into your pussy as erotic words oozed from his mouth, “spread your legs wider, baby.” his tone came out commanding, your fucked out mind too full of bliss as you mindlessly obeyed him, widening your legs to reveal more of your cunt – red and abused from the prior attack of his fingers. “that’s it .. wider,” lando grunted like an animal, his words coming out in huffed sighs as his cock throbbed in your tight pussy.

loud whines and moans fell from your swollen lips, the sound of the music completely drowned out inside the bathroom and replaced with the hums of the ecstasy of pleasure. “look at you,” lando purred, “such a needy girl.” his condescending words pulled you closer to the edge, your cunt sucking him in deeper as the eye contact remained.

“you can do better than that,” the words feeling from your lips between pants, your hooded eyes trying their hardest to not close tightly shut at the pleasure you ensnared, “fuck me harder, lan.” lando grunted at your command, your words sending a shutter of gruff desire through his body that slowly began to grow tired.

another dry chuckle fell from his cracked lips, the action sending a vibration through your body as his thrusts didn’t slow nor quicken. “you’re in no place to tease, baby, look at you,” he mocked, his calloused hands gripping your thighs harder as he now quickened the thrust of his cock into your tight cunt. your head rolled back in pleasure, the grip your hands had on lando’s shoulders only tightening, sure to leave little bruises in their wake. his condescending words did a number on you, your stomach tightening in pleasure as his cock battered harder in your poor cunt, making your body feel weak yet beautifully pleasured. 

“so fucking good–” you moaned out again, little ah-ah-ahs falling so carelessly from your parted lips. lando smirked in satisfaction, your praise only suiting him more as he fucked into you vicariously, giving you his all as he felt his climax rapidly approaching.

your stomach began to spin, your walls clenching around lando’s cock that still pumped into you, the vibrancy of your pleasure radiating off you as your moans sang together like an erotic duet. “yeah, cum for me, baby,” lando grunted, panting and heaving as he egged the two of you closer to your orgasms. your body shook with pleasure, your cunt throbbing as a pleasurable warmth flooded over your body.

before you could come to gather your actions, your climax hit you like a train, smalls moans of lando and little oh fucks falling from your reddened lips. quickly after, as if he was so sweetly waiting for you, lando finished. a guttural grunt fell from his parted lips as he did, thick beads of cum spilling onto the finger-printed skin of your thighs, lando’s fingers having left small bruises upon the flesh.

the two of you slowly came down from your high, the air smelling of whiskey and sex as the two of you gathered your senses and began to catch your breath. lando’s eyes never left yours as he slipped his clothes back on, bending his frame down to the ground to pick up your lazily discarded halo.

a satisfied hum escaped his lips as he placed it back onto your head, a smirk decorating his visage as his cheeks remained flush from the extertion. “see,” lando whispered as if to tease you, “i knew you weren’t all that innocent, angel.”

© inevesgf do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or claim any of my works as your own. notes + reblogs are heavily appreciated! ⋆·˚ ༘ * find my other works here.

[v1x3n]

H A T E S E X

satoru gojo x reader ⸝⸝ navigation kinktober masterlist

୨୧ synopsis : you go down to satorus dorm to shout at him for a rumour you knew he spread round, who knew that it would end up with your legs spread??

୨୧ tags : smut - hate fucking (obvi), spanking (once), degrading, hair pulling, choking, praise, slight breeding kink mention, unprotected, p in v, cumming inside, perv!satoru, pantie stealing.

“Shut the..fuck up” you groan, pushing satoru into the door as you two angrily kiss, his hands fall down to your waist, gripping harshly onto youre skin as he moans into your mouth. His tongue forces itself into your mouth while your hands move to his chest, slipping down his covered body. 

You whine when he swings you around by the waist, shoving your back into the door, replacing him, “make me?” he suggests, grunting, his deep voice sending heat straight down to your weeping pussy. Satoru pulls on the buttons of your shirt and huffs, the heat of the moment making him unable to concentrate on undoing them so instead he rips it open, buttons fall to the floor and you gasp at the air hitting your chest. Breaking the kiss and he almost growls, his large hand grips tightly onto your left breast, he holds it over your bra and his mouth moves down your neck, you moan at the teeth that nip onto your sensitive skin. Hands wrapping around his shoulders and your fingers move up into his hair, twirling the strands around. 

His hips pin yours against the door and you feel his boner covered by his pants rub against your stomach. His eyes meet with yours as he breathes heavily, needing a minute to let himself have a breath. “Fucking hell” satoru groans, pulling his face closer to yours, feeling his hot breath on your face, you close your eyes, he grinds his hard on into your stomach and he whines. Yeah, he fucking whines. 

How the fuck did you even end up here? 

What happened was, you were pissed, beyond belief. He had been teasing you and testing you all fucking year, you and him barely spoke before that. Petty fights, mean comments and times where you ended in the hospital were normal for the two of you. He would snicker with his friends, looking towards you, you could hear your name pop out the conversation, their - well mostly satoru - voices grew louder when they - he - realised you heard. 

Satoru was coming up to you, mocking you for everything and anything, it pissed you off, he was so fucking annoying and you started hating him more each time he did something.

So anyways, you had stormed into his dorm after you heard a rumour about yourself spread around, the cute rumour was that you had slept with one of the teachers to get higher grades. Bull fucking shit. As soon as you heard the gross rumour you knew who had said it, who else would even think of shit as gross as that? Who else would hate you enough to even bother? 

But as soon as you storm into his dorm, luckily for you he had forgotten to lock his door, satoru jolts up and a pair of panties fall from his bed, landing on the floor. You scowl at this disgusting man, your eyes move from the piece of fabric to the man on the bed. “What the fuck!” you grumble, loud enough for him to hear you but quiet enough for it to not be classed as shouting. “Ugh why are you here” satoru groans, standing up from his bed and bending down to grab the lace underwear. You take the chance he looks away to look over at him, his white shirt slightly scruffy, his sleeves rolled up - showing off his biceps as they flex, his black trousers slim to his muscular legs, his tie which was forgotten on the floor and his messy hair which made him look like he had just woke up. Despite you hating him you couldn't deny that he was attractive. 

Maybe you thinking that he was attractive got to your head because not even 10 minutes later your face was smushed up against his bedroom door, your skirt flipped up, showing off your plush arse and your smooth thighs, most of your clothes forgotten about on the floor. Shirt ripped apart on the floor, bra hanging off of the door knob of his bedroom door - right beside you as he smacks your arse and finally your panties ripped apart and discarded somewhere. Your tight cunt on display for him as he bends your position. His hard length bounces in and out of your pussy at a speed which was brutal. Satorus grip on your head as he shoves your cheek into the wooden door was making wetness grow down below, all of his movements were rough. Was this just how he was during sex or was it because you two hated each other? 

“Fuck!” he groans, the free hand of his tightly grabbing your waist, helping his sloppy movements grow steady (ish). Your moans quietened as you realise if anyone passed in the halls they would probably hear the squelching and the moans coming him inside satorus room, and what would be even worse is if they heard your voice. Way to beat the slut allegations, huh?

Your teeth clung onto your bottom lip, trying to stop the loud noises that spew out of your mouth, satorus cock slung in and out of you slowly, clearly teasing you. “This what you wanted? Huh?” he almost chokes out as his hips jitter, “wanted me t’ treat ya like the- hah- slut you are?” he whispers, it seemed like he wasn't even speaking to you at this point. His voice was barely audible, he knew you heard him each time he spoke due to your sweet cunt clenching around his aching cock everytime he muttered something disgusting. “Fuck!” he groans, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling you back, your arch growing slightly straighter as he forces your face closer to him.

He whispers in your ear, “so fucking good” you mewl at his praise while his hand moves from around a clump on your hair to around your neck then it holts, staying in that spot. His grip grows stronger as he chokes you lightly. You felt a wet splotch splat onto the back of your neck, before you could react then a tongue licked it up from you, licking your sensitive flesh and biting softly, your moans louden at his actions. The pace of his hips picked up, the new position had your knees buckling, nearing the edge.

Your walls clench against him, your mind removing all thoughts and clearing into a blank void as your breath hitches with his every thrust. Your mind focusing on everything going on for just a second. 

His rough grunts with every drag of his cock. 

His tightening balls hitting off you.

His harsh grip on your hip that would leave bruises.

His hand around your throat, slowly tightening as he got closer to cumming.

Your mind refocuses on the known pain deep in your stomach as he grinds into you, trying to reach further than before and luckily for him - he could get deeper. your eyes squeeze tight together as he hits the small part in you that made you squeal and whine every time someone touched it.

The man that you swore you hated 's cock filled you up so good, your brain was only thinking about him, he had done it, fucked you dumb. And he knew it, “not fucking speaking no more?” he huffs into your ear before licking your ear lope, biting the flesh. You whine out, “s-satoru..” barely heard, a light whisper of his name. 

His cock deep in you almost spasms in your cunt at you mewling his name, he wanted this for so long. I mean what was it all for? The teasing, the crude comments, the rumours? All he wanted was this. He wanted your tight cunt wrapped around him, he wanted your soft moans dripping from your mouth, he wanted to cum so deep inside of you so that you could feel it for days, he wanted to constantly fuck his sperm into you, see you swell with a round stomach and it all being his fault.

Satoru thrusts deep into your arm cunt, his eyebrows knit together when the coil far into your stomach twists and twists - begging to unwind. “Please” you beg for nothing, your gasps hitch when his hips shift just slightly and his balls slap against your neglected clit, “please!” whining as satorus movements slow, wanting to fully hear your begging. “It's okay, you're oka- ah! You're okay, baby” he coos into your ear, his hand trails from your neck down to the other side of your hips, your body drops back down to the door. Hands gripping onto the wood as he pounds you into it. The thumping of the door sounding out every whine and small grunt. 

A cold breath blows onto your neck as satoru huffs, the wetness from his saliva growing cold on your skin which makes a shiver trail down your body. “Im so close, sosososo close” satorus voice slowly turns unintelligible as his leaking tip kisses your cervix over and over again, “please please, so fucking- fucking close. Let me, p- please” 

Whilst you were cock drunk, he was clearly pussy drunk. 

You nod, not even knowing what you were agreeing to but satoru takes it as a go ahead, a deep, long yet slow drag into your warm pussy, his balls hitting off of your sensitive nub made your eyes roll to the back of your skull. “Oh!” you gasp-moan. 

Satorus grip tight on your waist slips slightly when his movements grow weak, he takes a minute to actually look at you, realising he didn't really take in the full picture yet, he needed to take it to memory because who knows if this was the last time you two would do this. 

Your arched back, your arse that jiggled with every thrust, fuck! Why did he focus so much on your cunt wrapped around him that felt like heaven when he could've been focusing on all of this at the same time. His mind almost goes numb when he hears a guttural moan sound from you when he unexpectedly cums deep inside of you. Filling your insides and spurting into you, you start to become undone on his length right after feeling him squirt his warm liquids into you. You moan, eyes squeezing shut while you squeeze tightly around his dick - almost cutting off the blood circulation. 

“Fuck!” satoru moans heavenly in your ear, your hands try to grip onto the door but due to the door being a solid wall you cannot, “im c- cumming!” you whisper but he still hears your whines.

“Cum f’ me, cmon, shit” his tight hold on your waist becomes looser when he pounds deep into you, his fat tip bouncing off of your cervix again and again, making stars float across your vision. After a few more belts to the cervix, you release on his fat cock, a ring of cum could be seen at the base of his dick. Your legs spasm, going weak and numb, flopping down so the man who slowly pulls his cock out of you when you're done dripping white liquid all over him, he huffs, “h-hah-” you couldnt tell if he was breathing really heavily or laughing, you look up at him as he throws you onto his bed. 

Your eyes wander over him as he grabs your panties from the ground, the ripped fabric bringing a small frown to his face, “well, you aren't gonna be able t’ wear these are you?” satoru hums to himself, you could clearly see him thinking. Then for a second his eyes light up, thinking of an idea. Satorus large hand moves to the pair of panties that had fallen from his bed around half an hour ago when you first came in. he picks them up and shows them off to you, the lace… the fabric… the cute bow…

These look familiar. “Here! Wear these, i needed t’ give them back anyways!” satoru had a disgusting smug grin plastered on his face as he smooths his hand over your legs whilst helping you put on the underwear, “you're gross” you point out, a scowl on your face but satoru could help to find it cute with the droplets of sweat from your forehead and the flushed expression clearly imprinted on your face. 

He helps you put on the panties, that he stole from you, with a stupid smile over his face. “Fucking hell” he chuffly speaks, looking you up and down, satoru winks at you, “you should come by t’ shout at me again”