#I AM STILL GASPING FOR AIR | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

screampied · 8 months ago

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𝜗𝜚 I CAN MAKE THAT P☆SSY RAIN OFTEN!

☆ sum. they're starving, but they aren't craving actual 'food'. they're craving what's right between your shaky pretty legs. toji, higuruma, choso, gojo, geto, sukuna.

warnings. fem! reader, cúnnilingus, face-riding / siting, eating out through panties, pússy so good he cries (choso), fīngering, unprotected, dirty talk, praise, very pússy drunk men, squīrting, hair pulling, pússy spanks, spīt, dumbification.

☆ HIGURUMA HIROMI.

you tell higuruma that’s he’s got such a rideable face, but he’s never really knew what you meant.

not until he’s buried between your thighs, having a pretty view of you caging him in with your jittery legs. “hey,” he purrs, his voice pouring with such rasp underneath it. a swollen thumb drags down near your sopping cunt and his droopy eyes meet yours. higuruma’s holding you upright whilst his free hand grabs onto your left thigh tightly. “ ‘s okay, lovey. i know you wanna ride my nose,” and his balmy breath grazes up against your slit that was just continuously weeping with saturated slick. you’re whimpering, hovering over his rosy-twitched lips before he kisses near your cracked entrance. “easy, i gotcha. jus’ sit on it, ‘s okay, you can do whatever you want to me, promise.”

and once you finally succumb to his warm filthy words—you plop yourself onto his mouth, instantly moaning at the bumpy bridge of his nose tickling against your clit. “fuck,” and you hear a throaty chuckle leave from his crooked lips. higuruma’s nose, once your pussy rubs up against the hook, you couldn’t help but start to jerk faster and faster. “hiromi, ‘m not suffocating you am i?”

“no, my love,” he whispers, flicking his flat tongue through your sensitive drooling folds. you tasted so sweet and it only left him craving for more, more of you. dark drowsy eyes stares into your eyes before his sloppy licks turn into risqué slurps. “but, i wouldn’t mind it actually. use my face darling, ‘m all yours tonight.”

higuruma’s got a cunning grin that stretches against his lips as your weight relaxes on him. you kiss your teeth, gradually rutting your trembling hips up against his salivating mouth and he groans. your clit rubs itself against his nose and his mouth, the rough rocky texture of the bridge nearly sends you over the edge.

“f- fuck, ‘romi,” you gasp, and your fragile limbs cause you to squat now. the air surrounding you suddenly feels thick and there’s a dry taste filling the inside of your mouth. as candied wanton mewls continue to pry away from your lips, you tug on his ruffled checkered tie that’s tucked underneath his button-down. his tongue that’s lapping against your honeyed flaps with the mixture of his nose sliding up and down your entrance. but you’re now stuck in nothing but a mere stupor. higuruma’s eyes never break contact and you hear the loud sloshes from his lips smack against your pussy from each succulent slurp. “ ‘m gonna cum, not gonna last hiromi.”

“aw, yeah?” he whispers, your own slick smearing against his pursed lips. your eyes roll back once the tip of his tongue thwacks and flicks against that spot, your tender g-spot. it feels gummy and spongy and he feels your quaking thighs come together, clenching a tight squeeze. “ooh, guess she is,” and a hand of his creeps toward the right curvature of your ass. you moan from his touch, weak limbs shivering from his contact. everything was building up at once—like a wave, the calm before the storm. it starts near the very pit of your stomach and it’s fluttering all around you as if butterflies resided in your insides. “there, there. don’t stop, ride my nose lovey. use me, ‘s okay.”

your face twists as he’s still got his tongue attached to your sopping cunt—you’re shaking, and you continue to grind your hips into his face.

higuruma holds you with two strong open palms, trying his best to ignore the growing tent in his business slacks. his hair, thanks to how you were mercilessly dragging his head back and forth against your slobbering pussy, it’s all unkempt and messy. strands of black hair twist and entangle between your fingers as you’re preparing for another teeth shattering orgasm. your ass teeters and twirls in crazed gyrations as the his hooked nose continue to abrade against your swollen folds. “hiromi—fuck, fuck,” you whimper, and the coil buried within you finally snaps. within seconds, you’re cumming hard—all on his tongue and the following noise that flutters past your lips was so pretty. higuruma’s hooded eyes gaze at you as he’s lapping you clean and he’s so in love. your finishing sounds sounding like a mere symphony to him. lewdly melodic.

“that’s it, lovey. oh that’s such a good messy girl, my messy baby,” he sighs, and you feel your tummy cave in at that exact moment. your drenched folds never felt more slick. he’s slurping you clean, proudly with the most tender grin stretching across his face. but that concise moment briefly gets cut short once higuruma groans—feeling the strain in his pants again, fighting the urge to stroke himself. but he can’t, this is about you. you still feel the knobby part of his nose scrape and drag against your pussy and he huskily chuckles. “ah, you’re just obsessed with my nose now, huh?”

“no i—”

“oh, don’t be embarrassed,” higuruma softly teases, his voice a bit gruff and raspy. his lips had a pretty sheeny coat of your own juices and you were still trembling once he gets up. higuruma helps you off of him and closes the gap between you both, leaning in for a kiss. it’s sweet, he moans into your mouth whilst he feels your eager hands tug on his tie. higuruma’s tongue matches your sync perfectly. both dancing muscles tangle together before he aligns himself between your legs, wrapping them around his slim waist.

“my, aren’t you a doll,” he speaks between sultry tender kisses, and his rich cologne scent almost snatches your breath away. from a mile away, you could smell it. higuruma licks the bottom of your chin—keeping his eyes firmly on you until he starts to unbuckle his belt with one hand. “but since you love my nose so much, i think you’ll like somethin’ bigger a lot better,” and you let off a gasp once you’re suddenly now flipped the mattress, and he gives your ass a playful spank. “now, be a good girl ‘n bend over for me.”

☆ SATORU GOJO.

gojo loves more than anything to just come home from dreadful hours of work, of battles—to you.

not only just to you, but the pretty thing that’s between your legs. he’s not one to waste time, and he always gets straight to the point—but in this case, straight to the pussy.

“let’s see how many fingers this time,” he coos, and you’re laid flat against your back, eyeing him. unapologetically, he’s been eating you out for hours like a starved man, drinking out each of your candied orgasms like it was nothing. gojo had a thing for your pleasure—it was far more better than his own. “one,” he whispers, slowly inserting a single long digit inside. you whimper at the immediate stretch. such thick lengthy fingers, they expanded wide throughout your walls and you shudder from his breath whistling against your folds. “twoooo,” he jibes, playfully dragging out his words. your legs were quickly melting like mush, nearly collapsing as he’s toying around the insides of your cunt. “god, she’s got so much ‘ta say today, huh?”

gojo grows quiet at the crying sloshes you make just from his twin digits jackhammering inside of you. in feral awe, he watches as you swallow up both of his long fingers with your greedy cunt, covering them from top to bottom with your slick.

every few seconds, there’s a wet sloppy ‘pop’ and ‘pshh’ that squeals out from your own entrance. “s-satoru,” you whimper and you let off an exaggerated gasp once he flicks his tongue against your throbbing clit. you’re soaked, and his chin was already raining with your juices—his favorite. as he’s got two fingers still buried inside of your gummy walls, he twists them around before he reaches there. your breath gets caught in your throat and you gasp again, letting off a sweet squealing mewl before yanking on his hair snowy white strands. “ngh, ‘toru!”

“ah,” he purrs, bringing a sloppy three second kiss toward your drooling cunt. it’s so pretty up close, he can see how you’re profusely pulsating from the stimulation and it makes a sly smile tweak against his lips. gojo’s digits resume to crimp around inside of your doughy walls before his plump fingertips tickle against your g-spot. oh, you feel static surge and pump right through your veins. the texture was spongey and squashy and he’s got a playful pout. “this is where you’re weak, right angel? mhh, such a sloppy ‘lil thing.”

you’re trembling from his staticky touch and his fingers plummeting in and out of your cunt. the sounds, it’s so messy . . it’s yourself, and you’re just a stammering mess, fumbling over your own pathetic broken sentences. “fuck, please ‘toru,” you whimper out in a sheepish tone. he goes back to running his tongue everywhere against your sopping wet cunt. to him, your folds tasted so sugary, and he’s always been known to have a little sweet tooth. gojo feels himself getting hard the more he plays with you and he lowly groans right against your pussy. the vibrations of his frustrated snarl makes you whine out in ecstasy before your eyes widen. “hnnnm, sato— fuck!”

pretty pristine lashes of his flutter shut before he gradually pries out his fingers. gojo’s so into it, he’s having an entire make out sesh with your pussy, pressing his plump vermillion-colored lips together and lapping up his own sauced saliva.

“atta girl. give it t’ me,” he grunts, and you watch with heavy eyelids just hanging low as his head starts to drag back and forth. he’s devouring your cunt, even going far as to getting nose deep just to steal a smell all for himself. the sweetest, his favorite place in the world would always have to be right between your thighs. gojo even reached down in his pants, past his cerulean blue boxers to touch himself. fuck, he was hard. and it was all because of you. he groans, giving his dick a few solid pumps whilst a callused thumb brushes against a running vein that pulses down his shaft. as his lengthy tongue trails even further, he starts to suck on your clit. he feels the pulse twitch in his mouth and he looks right up at you with the most smug pussy drunken grin. “heh, you’ve got a—”

and abruptly, you end up gushing right out just as he’s speaking. mid sentence too—you sprayed a nice amount of your release just below his chiseled chin and you let off a sweet harmonic screaming orgasm. ripples of pleasure coarse through your veins as you’re riding out your orgasm on his tongue, your body growing limp. every inch of your body though, you felt hot. your legs furiously shook and he’s still got his tongue attached to your cunt. “. . yooou little slut,” he quips with a eyebrow quirking up. gojo’s a bit taken aback but his pretty icy eyes find yours again and you spot his dimples poking near each side of his cheeks as he slyly simpers. “you just squirted on me huh. someone felt sloppy today, yeah?”

“i- i’m sorry,” you moan, still feeling the jarring after effects of your body. your thighs were glued together and you’re still panting—although gojo’s panting just as much as you if not more. despite how you were still aroused, you’ve never felt more embarrassed. thanks to your pussy, you’ve got his face drenched from the mouth down. you’re a mess, and he’s covered all in it. “i didn’t—”

“shhh,” he whispers, and you’re interrupted by a soft spank on your cunt. you whimper at the brief twinge, the unforgettable friction glissading down against your bare exposed entrance driving you more and more crazy. the air felt hot but your body felt even hotter. gojo gives your clit one final sloppy kiss before whispering against your slit. “ah, ah. don’t be sorry,” and with droopy hooded eyes, you watch as he prepares to insert not one, not two, but three fingers inside of your wet puffy cunt. “do it again.”

☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO.

toji never really believed in the saying, ‘you can’t have your cake and eat it too.’

of course, he knows the meaning of the actual common quote but in his filthy rotted brain, it means something else entirely whenever he’s buried between your thighs. toji fushiguro’s a greedy man, especially whenever it came to pussy. he won’t just eat you out, he’ll devour you, including your pretty perky ass.

two callused open palms spread the doughy globes of your ass wide open quickly. you’re whimpering, feeling his tepidly hot breath waft down your bare pulsating cunt before he spits right down the valley of your sopping wet folds.

“gotta get her nice ‘n wet, ain’t that right, baby?” he whispers, watching as his own saliva trickles down your twitching folds. you’re already moist, profusely so and he can see your pretty poor clit throbbing - aching for more. “oh, my,” he tsks, bringing his scarred lips right up to your slobbering entrance. “she’s so fuckin’ beautiful.”

“hngh, toj—”

“baby, quiet. ‘m not talkin’ to you,” he shushes you, and you let off a whine once he gives your pussy a long thorough suck. you hear the echoing ‘pop’ smack from his lips once he pulls back, flicking the cold tip of his tongue against your pearly nub. fuck, once he started it was no prying him off. toji groans, feeling his rickety hips starting to drag themselves against the edge of the bed. his bulge continues to grow in his grey cottony sweats as his lips latch onto your sweet sweet pussy.

he blows against your folds, a thumb still guiding up and down your slit before he goes toward your neglected hole—you whimper once you feel a stringy glob of saliva dribble down until it reaches near your cunt. “fuck, fuuuck,” you hiss, your toes curling up almost right away. he was just so nasty, you could tell toji’s smelling your pussy right from behind you too. he was nose deep and the tip of his nose thrashes up against your clit constantly, making you feel even more sensitive. “ngh, don’t stop, ‘toj. pleasepleasefuck.”

“god, how many times do i have ‘ta tell ya?” the dark haired man gruffs, and you feel a surging wave of tingles ripple through your thighs once he gently swats a hand against your pussy.

it’s a loud ‘smack’ that bounces off the thin walls as you bite down on your bottom lip. your slickness even spurts against his palm and it’s so cute. as he’s steadily munching against your throbbing heat, he slurps you clean again and again. “our conversation’s over,” and his voice gets deeper the faster he sucks. “she’s talkin’ ‘ta me now, not you. don’t be rude,” and toji’s hooded verdant eyes rove towards your drooling cunt as he speaks. it was over the second he’s softly inserting a fat finger inside, feeling your clingy walls accept it right away. “mhm, she’s always got so much to say. pussy’s talkative just like you, princess.”

you moan, feeling his tongue drag up and down against your clit. your mouth can’t help but drop in awe at how thick his finger was. too thick, it’s so good. it’s practically just as big as his cock, and just a single lengthy digit of his was splitting you wide open. you’re squelching and toji purposely grows quiet just to hear it - to hear the ‘words’ of your pussy, which was just the wet sloshing sounds you continue to make as he played with you.

“yeah, i fuckin’ agree,” he hums, a low cackle leaving from his lips as he’s starting to piston his finger in and out, slurping all of your sappy juices. you’re whimpering, and he’s talking over you. your limbs felt weak and you could feel your arch starting to weaken. “she’s such a baby, my baby though,” and once he tongue rummages deeper inside of you, it taps near your clit. it’s a mean tap, scratching such a forbidden itch in your brain and you almost grow stupid. toji feels you about to collapse forward due to your weak frail legs and he chuckles against your pussy. “heh, drama queen.”

you whimper as he stretches your ass more with one hand—he’s leaving all kinds of cobwebs of saliva that glues against both temples of your ass, racing down your thighs. “mmph,” he feels you claw the back of head, shoving him closer towards your pussy. a sly grin spreads against his lips and he slides his finger out, breaking away to taste it. “y’er gettin’ fuckin’ handsy, baby. careful now,” and his tongue slithers back towards your puckering hole. his same thumb pokes against it before he’s just slurping you—loud slippery sounds departing from his lips, devouring your cunt as if he was a starved, starved man.

“toj—fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you blurt out, your grip against his hair loosening. your cheek presses against the pillow as he lies his tongue flat, making sure his tongue wanders everywhere. he lolls it around to where he’s creating all kinds of letters and shapes just from his silvery tongue.

your toes continue to curl as your mouth’s just dangling open, feeling his scar repeatedly scrape up against your twitching clit. unapologetically. he spits on your entrance just to lap it right up, feeling the tint in his pants rise. he’s so hard, so fucking hard and your cute pulsing only made it worse. “shit, shit toji please,” your sweet babbles ring against his ears as he feels the shimmy of your hips. you could never stay still, and that was one of the many things he loved about you.

“yeah, cum on my face. make a fuckin’ mess, make me proud baby,” a low voice grumbles from behind, and his tongue’s still delving in and out of your sappy folds. you’re so soaked, his lips were so loud with how they suction against your slick pussy and you were just dumb. dumbfounded, his tongue had you utterly stupid and you only wanted more. but a hard hand swats against your sensitive cunt, snapping you back to reality. “c’mon, ‘m thirsty. give me my meal.”

gasping for air, you let off a tiny shriek once you finally let go, feeling such intense pressure lift up from the center of your abdomen. you’re frazzled, dewy eyes staring into the satiny cushioned pillow that’s shoved against your face as you burst. “fuck—fuck,” you whine, and it feels like a geyser just erupted. except, the geyser was right between your legs. you’re squirting, and it shoots out so fast, trickling down toji’s chin and even paints his dark stubble a sheeny glistening color. as he’s slowly gliding his tongue against your folds one more time, he blinks thrice whilst a smug grin stretches against his lip.

“well how about that,” toji snickers, and he gives your cunt one more suck, smearing your slick all over his chin. he didn’t care how much of a mess you made - it was his mess too. you can almost feel his lewd gaze bore into your ass before he peels a thumb against your clit. “looks like she’s still got it,” and you moan, feeling him give your pussy a ‘praising’ good job pat. he hums, feeling you throb on his palm. as he’s catching his breath just like you, toji hums, flipping you over. “my girl can’t help but be a fuckin’ super soaker, cute. .”

☆ CHOSO KAMO.

choso was always exhausted whenever he came home, constant battles on a daily would wear anyone out. but it was all worth it because in the end, he came home to you. his pretty girl—but today, today was different.

“i need you,” he murmurs out of breath, and you’re taken by surprise as you lazily flop back against the couch with your legs slightly spread open. the last thing you’d expect was to see choso on his knees for you. he suppresses a whimper that’s so close to flying from his lips before he nips a few wet kisses near your thighs. “ ‘m so starved, baby. been too long since i—” and he cuts off. pretty mahogany eyes of his suddenly widen once you pull down your shorts with one hand, revealing your panties. purple, the lacy fabric decorates the valley cracks of your thighs and shields your most sensitive bits. choso can’t help but pout once you softly grab onto the crown of his head, rummaging your fingers through his loose ravened tresses and tickling his scalp. with a needy pout, he looks at you whilst he’s leaning into your touch. “may i?”

“yeah, but keep the panties on though ‘cho,” you reply in a cheeky tone, watching the frustrated pout on his face grow. but he doesn’t complain, and instead, he inches his face closer and closer and closer, all until he’s eating you out through your panties. “f- fuck.” you’d swallow as a sharp gasp wrenches out of your full heaving lungs.

once he started—there was no stopping.

choso’s whines were muffled as his knees were dug, buried into the furry carpet ground. his pretty lashes flap as his tongue delicately laps around your sopping cunt—oh, you’re such a tease. despite how your underwear was in the way of the part he really wanted to eat, he still tasted how soaked you were. not only that, but he could smell it too. “god, ‘s unfair,” he grunts, swirling his tongue around every part he could get to. your breath hitches and your fingers were still intertwined between his thin strands. “mmph,” and he can’t help but smell your panties. he’s missed you so much. as choso’s soft kitten licks turn into slurps within a soak of just a few seconds few seconds—he glances up at you with a cute frown. panting, he murmurs. “can i- can i touch myself?”

“no, choso,” you tease him some more,” and you spread your legs just a bit wider. with the wide eyed stare he’s giving you and the way his mouth was cutely just dangling open, you’d have thought he was about to drool all over you. so pretty, he almost loses composure once you finally pull a string of your panties toward the side of your thigh. “not yet.”

“so mean,” he cutely grumps, his plump lips curling into another pout again as he’s positioned right between your plush thighs. choso leans into your tender touch though, and he goes back to licking your pussy. he moans, trying to savor your taste as much as he could. choso’s tense arms remain idle—although he’s just itching to touch himself and it doesn’t take long before his chin starts to glisten with slick - your slick. choso couldn’t help himself though, so he starts to find another way to feel.

his rickety hips start to jerk up against the edge of the couch and he’s ruthlessly grinding into the furniture. he’s feral like a animal and heat—all for you - just for you. “mmph, fuck,” he whines, feeling such hot friction bristle against your body and it ricochets onto his. choso already had a boner by just looking at you—but now, he was definitely pent up. the tent in his sweats only grows as he continues to rummage his warm tongue through the corners and crevices of your cunt. gasping, you start to slowly drag his head further against you. “baby, ‘m so hard. so hard jus for you.”

choso was such a messy eater though—he was inexperienced in some areas, sure. but when it came to eating you out, he never failed to please you. he couldn’t get enough of you, especially when you tasted like that. his head can’t help but move around and crazily shift everywhere. he’s devouring your cunt whilst his hips continue to thrust against the edge of the couch over and over and over again.

the snapping creaks get more rowdier before you dig your fingers through his scalp once more. you always tried your best to shower him with praises whenever he was stuffed between your thighs—eating out your precious pussy as if it was the last meal to exist on earth. “ ‘s okay, cho, right there baby. right there, fuck.”

your sweet praises made his ears perk up and twitch and it’s so cute to see. choso’s so into it that he whines right against your cunt, hot breath colliding against your slick flaps. you whine, continuing to guide his face by dragging his head around and against your sloppy entrance. “mmph,” his voice is still muffled as his tongue occasionally rubs against your clit. choso sucks against it hard just to hear you whimper out. his eyes were closed the entire time—but after a while, you hear a bit of a subtle sniffle. you peer down, and it’s choso. he’s sniffling, quite literally getting lost in your pussy. both chubby temples of his face flush as his tongue’s wanders in every neglected corner of your gripping walls. you pause, about to pry his head away and ask what’s wrong before he clings onto your hips, shaking his head firmly. “n- no, don’t move away please. ‘m not done.”

and choso was sniffling solely because of your cunt. it was that good. . he couldn’t comprehend how something from a mere human such as yourself could taste this divine. he’s melting into putty in real time the more he’s slurping your honeyed juices—spitting it all over your clit before cleaning it right back up like a good boy. “fuck,” he whimpers, still thrusting his keen hips into the corner of the couch. he’s so loud, even louder than you and it’s adorable. “baby, i- i love you, i love you s’much,” he starts to babble, and his slurps become more wet and noisy. the lewd squelches from your own pussy bounces and reverbs off the walls and off your ears. your carnal moans only make him more hard as he’s feeling his boner drag itself further against the silky fabric of his grey sweats. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum again, n- not again, ugh.”

he freezes like a deer in headlights the moment the center of his boxers fills itself with damp grey splotches—he felt it, and he moans whilst he’s still got a mouth full of your pussy. “aw man,” he pouts, his chest heaving as he pries his lips away from your throbbing cunt. teary eyed and a cute determined pout on his lips, choso kisses your clit one more time before sighing. “baby, can we retry? i- i’ll do better this time, promise.”

☆ SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

sukuna’s a filthy pussy eater. . he’s fucking nasty.

he’s a demon and he has no shame. eating you out was a mere pastime for him. whenever he was bored, all he’d really have to do was summon you to his royal chambers to ‘entertain him’ in his own words.

of course, whenever this happens, it always escalates to you laid flat on his king sized bed with your legs widely sprawled—having the sukuna ryomen nose deep inside of your cunt. one of sukuna’s favorite things to do was to eat you out directly after he came inside you.

“brat, stay still,” he murmurs to you, but due to the carnally low pitch in his voice, it sounded like a playful warning. your bottom lip gets caught in between your teeth as you gnaw on it, feeling your stomach churn with such excited apprehension. sukuna’s tall frame towers over you and you gulp at the demon right before your very eyes. you take a moment to glance down at his cock, spotting his pink swollen tip that’s profusely all runny and flaccid. you milked him so much earlier, and he groans at the feeling of still being sensitive. back to his own eyes, they gloss over near your stretched out legs and peek right between your thighs. such goopy ribbons of cum ooze out of your pussy and you spot him licking his lips, a single fang cutely poking out near the corner of his mouth. “hn,” he grouses, and with two hands, he scoots your waist up closer to his hungry sheeny lips.

“suku— fuck,” you squeal, and it was so quick. one second he was telling you to stay still and the next, he’s eating his own cum out of you. filthy, the perfect word to describe sukuna. for once, he’s only ever quiet and shuts up when it comes to your sweet pussy - funny. rolling out his tongue flat against your shimmery entrance, his pink thin brows then compress together in obscene concentration. your back rests flat against one of his many cushioned pillows and your jaw dangles open. “fuck, fuck,” you repeat in broken sweet whimpers, now staring to feel his forked tongue roam all throughout your sensitive walls.

sukuna’s ear twitches once he hears a sudden slosh. as if a sudden instinct triggered him, his cold red eyes flicker toward your left thigh. a creamy droplet of cum starts to drip down the side of your leg. “what a sloppy girl you are,” he huffs, and his tongue licks it right up. he’s not even fazed by the bittersweet taste of himself that’s coating all on his tongue. your stomach caves in and out as he continues to feast—every few seconds, the keen sharp edges of his fangs would nip against your clit. your body would arch forward and you’d give him that cute twisting facial expression every time. “just look at this mess,” he speaks through clenched teeth and an even more clenched jaw.

the curse’s stern crimson eyes rove gawk toward your soppy clit as he pries his lips away—his lips were a pearly pink, lathered with your slick and excess amounts of his own forbidden taste. “ah, don’t even think about closin’ these beauties yet,” and you shiver once he presses a kiss near the neglected crevice of your thigh. your head tosses back as you’re just panting heavily, your chest tightening up with each drawn breath. “hm, ‘s still pouring out of you. how uncouth,” and you whimper once he spits right on your cunt, lapping it right up before kissing your weeping folds once more. “taught you all these manners ‘n you’re still just my sloppy girl. ‘s that right, princess?”

“sukuna, fuuuck,” you babble out, and you gasp once he slowly inserts a thick finger inside, hooking the fat digit all throughout your saturated walls.

“little girl, that’s not the answer to my question,” he tsks, and you release another moan at the feeling of his long finger scissoring its way inside of you, swirling all around deeply. sukuna adds even more pressure by sucking down on your achy clit, dampening his own sculptured chin with your slit soaking against the lower part of his jaw.

you are indeed a mess, stammering out the same loop of pathetic cries as he slurps up his own mess out of you. sukuna snickers, bringing a palm toward your pussy just to watch you wince in pleasure. the sting, your legs were on the verge of snapping shut and he knew that. “tell me,” he utters hoarsely, gradually pulling out his finger and licks it slowly from top to bottom. staring you dead in the eyes, he kisses your folds once more. “who’s pussy is this?”

“yours,” you hiss through gritted teeth at the spank. your sobbing pussy’s met with another rude spank and you gasp, feeling your perky nipples poke further against the fabric of your tank top. “s- sukuna.”

with another spank, spurts of your own dewy juices coat the wide palm of his hand and his crimson-velvet eyes narrow at you. “that’s right, pet. all mine,” and for one last time, he brings a sloppy four second kiss towards your runny cunt. sukuna’s lewd slurps echo through his chambers indefinitely. “you know it ‘n she knows it too.”

☆ GETO SUGURU.

suguru geto eats you out like it’s his favorite hobby, call him a professional swimmer because he loves drowning in your sweet sweet cunt. well, minus the swimming part though.

“sit,” he murmurs, and you swallow thickly as you’re hovering right over his face - his pretty emotionless face. geto’s eyes bore into you and he gives your ass a playful pinch. with ravened dark strands still running down both of his eyes, he licks against your thigh. “sit on my face, pretty girl. ‘m fuckin’ hungry,” and you moan once his teeth tug against the hem of your panties. “there we go,” he coaxes—watching as you leisurely start to lower yourself down onto his face. as he speaks, his voice lowers a single octave and it makes you pulse right between your legs - how embarrassing. your weight slowly but surely makes its way toward his mouth that’s seeping with eager drool from the sides before you’re now sitting on his face. then, you’re met with the most smug expression from geto whilst he opens his mouth, parting his thin slick-spit lips. “lay it on me, yeah. good girl. good fuckin’ girl.”

“fuh— fuuuck,” a whine spews from your lips once his tongue naturally lies itself flat against your entrance. his tongue was frigidly cold and you feel it, the brief knobby texture of his tongue makes your toes curl up. geto’s lashes flap close as he’s slurping up all of you, taking long dramatic gulps whilst a hand cups the fat plush skin of your ass. your hips stutter at first — you’re shy a bit at how you’re just sitting on his face, but he then grabs you by the hips, slamming you further down against his tongue. “suguru,” you whine, chewing the inside of your cheek. his eyes were closed and he’s just merrily munching against your cunt as if he didn’t have a single care in the world. spoiler alert, he didn’t. geto’s head though was maddened. it jerks from left to right, and he’s already growing feral within seconds.

“heyy girl,” he whispers in a raspy voice, feeling your nervous hips swerve in cute crazed arcs. for the life of you—you just couldn’t stay still and he found that so adorable. your eyes were looking anywhere but him and his long fat tongue slowly licks around your tender clitoral hood. geto slides two thick fingers down your pussy, feeling you tense up and he hums. “look at me, eyes on me, sweetheart,” he reminds you, and you watch as his lips twist up. even between your legs—he’s so pretty, and stringy glimmering strands of his own saliva starts to dribble down his sharp chin. he was a mess right underneath you and your clammy hands find their way in his hair, tangling through his matted dark locks. “want you to look at me while i make love to my other favorite girl,” he whispers in a rough voice, and you moan once his tongue hastily flicks against your pulsating nub more.

as you’re shaking all from his tongue and his sly wry words, your eyes lock onto geto’s. “fuck, suguru,” you moan, your fingers getting lost in his shaggy jet-black strands. he’s so pretty, he’s got the most unbothered deadpan plastered on his face while he’s eating you out, dragging his long tongue through your treacly sensitive regions. oh, he just couldn’t get enough of you. geto loves to spit all on your pussy just to have it fall back into his mouth, smearing his crooked pink lips all over your puffy soddened folds as if it was his own personal lip gloss. “y- you’re so nasty, sugu.”

“yeah? praise me more sweetheart,” he utters in a husky voice, and you knew he was joking but you throbbed either way. your hips were so unsteady the more you sat on his face. fuck, he’s staring dead at you too, raising a dark brow before laughing against your cunt. cool breath tickles near your pulsating entrance before he blows against your folds. “aw, quiet now huh. ‘s my tongue really too much? maybe i should stop.”

“n- no, please,” you whine, and your hands rigorously pull onto his strands. the dark haired man looks at you with a sleazy grin, such viscous gooey strands of your own slick dripping down his chin. geto was already pussy drunk, you could tell. he loved hearing those sweet whimpers of yours squawk out the back of your throat despite how you’re trying oh so hard to shut yourself up.

geto loved whenever you got loud for him—he didn’t care who heard. but on the other hand though, his tongue was just plain evil, he made sure to spell out all types of letters and shapes on your pussy. he even spelled his name. your pussy was so loud too, the sloshes were so sopping wet that you couldn’t even believe that was coming right out of you. with a quivering bottom lip, you grab him by the hair, pulling his head up a bit so he could look you straight in the eye again. “don’t stop, suguru. ngh, please. need you to—”

“need? oh, girl,” he sassily snickered, and you moan once his palm firmly swats against your swollen cunt. you were wet, shamelessly dripping down and with his hand now smacking against your folds, you were even more soaked. geto’s low voice and the way it pitches makes your thighs nearly give up, on the verge of collapsing. “dumb girl, stop thinkin’ with your cunt when you speak to me. you don’t need shit,” and he playfully nibbles on your clit. “right, pretty girl?”

geto calling you a dumb girl and a pretty girl in the same sentence made your brain ache—

your breath grows significantly shallow as you stare at him and he’s got nothing but a feral hungry glint in his eyes. “i- i want you make me cum, sugu,” you correct yourself, and your cunt’s just desperately throbbing. every nerve stored inside of your sopping clit, you felt it all. just yearning for you to let go—you were right there, you were so close to your release that you could almost taste it. so bittersweet, the pointed tips of your ears grew hot as you started to grind your sloppy hips against his face again. “please, please. make me cum, suguru. want your tongue, pretty please.”

“that’s my girl,” he coos, a thumb gliding down your runny slit. his cold breath wafts against your pussy and you shiver before his nibbles against your sweet cute nub turn into greedy elongated sucks. geto’s head quickly sashays side to side again in a frantic manner before he grunts. “mhm, c’mon then. give it to me, princess. make a mess so i can clean it right up, atta girl.”

a whirling pool of heat continues to stir up inside of you and you that’s when you feel it. the immense intensity of raunchy pressure that’s shocking every part of your body. your knees buckle and you’re already weak but his tongue makes you ten times weaker. you’re defeated, an easy ko—knock-out, all from a simple tongue with the addition of filthy dirty words. the moment you cum, your mind shoots blanks.

“oh, sugu—fuck,” you then squeak once it all pours out of you. it’s as if you’ve been waiting for eons, and you suddenly feel weightless. you’re twitching and even after your orgasm, you still feel the sloppy laps of his tongue—strings of cobwebby spit glossing his lips before he finally departs. “ngh, suguru.” you’d babble as you’re still weakly riding geto’s tongue. the overstim scratches such a carnal itch in your brain and it makes your eyes roll all the way back.

geto’s catching his breath, running his tongue over his dampened lips before he watches you slump back against the cushioned mattress all pretty and breathless. so cute, the way your chest heaves in and out and your thighs still shook with intense elation. “aw, tired already?” and he crawls up beside you, sneaking a kiss near your neck. “but oh, we’re just gettin’ started, princess. that was just a test run, silly.”

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bizarrelovetriangel · 2 months ago

Text

n i g h t m a r e s.

angst with comfort. they have a nightmare where they lost you.

sylus

You were in the N109 Zone for hunters business, and he only found out from Mephisto. Sylus got on his bike and rushed over to your location to demand answers. Why are you there? Why are you alone? Why didn't you tell him anything?

Once he saw you in the middle of a battleground surrounded by unconscious bodies and wrapping a bandage around your left arm, Sylus's breath hitched.

"So the kitten got scratched, despite how ferocious she is." He reached out to help you with your bandage, but you took a step back and frowned at him.

"Don't touch me."

"Oh?" He raised a brow at your cold tone. "Woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, sweetie?"

You gritted your teeth and turned away from him.

"Stay away from me, Sylus."

Confusion flashed in his eyes. You didn't look like you're in a joking mood, and the way you looked at him with empty eyes felt like a stab to his chest.

"What's wrong?" he asked carefully, not taking a single step towards you just in case you start running away. "Have I done something to piss you off?"

"Done something?" you laughed bitterly. "What haven't you done?"

No, there wasn't just emptiness in your eyes. There was disgust. Repulsion, directed at him. You haven't looked at him in that way for a long time, and he was reminded of how much he hated it.

"Sweetie, let's talk -"

He made the mistake of reaching out to touch you, so you slapped his hand away and jumped back.

"I said stay away from me! Don't.... don't talk to me anymore, don't follow me, just don't.... just stay out of my life! I don't want to be with a monster like you!"

A monster.

So, that's what it was.

He can't say he was surprised.

He always had a feeling that one day, you'll come to your senses and ask yourself, how could you ever love someone like him?

Looks like you've finally woken up from whatever spell he put on you. Now, you want nothing to do with him.

"Stay away from me." You took even more steps back, your figure was starting to merge with the shadows. "Goodbye, Sylus."

His feet were stuck to the bloodstained ground as he watched you disappear in his life forever.

Suddenly, he became aware of how cold the air is, and how quiet it is around him. His heart twinged, as if he'd been pierced by multiple daggers. His body felt numb and empty.

Standing became difficult, and his eyes felt like anchors that demanded to be shut. He gasped for air as he feels his chest tightening, but he only felt even more drowned.

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't move.

He wanted go run after you, but bloodied hands had sprung out of nowhere and started pulling his feet deeper in the ground.

"Sylus..."

"...."

"Sylus."

His eyes opened and squinted from the setting sun's light that slipped past the curtains of his bedroom windows.

"Hey. Are you okay?"

He sat up and frantically scanned his surroundings. He ran a hand through his hair and felt all the sweat that were on his forehead.

"Sylus?"

His eyes slowly met yours, and they lingered for a long time. It's as if he's waiting and searching for something.

"You had a nightmare, right?" You looked at him with concern. "Are you okay? I'm gonna go get you a glass of water. I'll be back - "

"No, wait."

Sylus caught your hand as you tried to leave. His thumb caressed the back of your hand and observed it for a moment before taking a deep breath.

"Just stay here with me. I just...need you here."

"Okay." You sat still next to him and let him fiddle with your hands, as it seems to be giving him comfort. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Sylus tangled his fingers against yours, keeping his eyes on your joined hands. "You're not...." He paused for a second as he felt his throat drying up nervously. "You're not repulsed by me, are you?"

"What?"

"You know what l've done.... What I do, and who I am. Do you still... Do you still...."

You were quick to understand what he was trying to ask, and what he might have dreamt about.

"I love you." You looked into his eyes that seems to lack its usual life and confidence. "I know what you do and who you are, and I still love you, Sylus. Whatever happened in your dream.... it's not real."

He closed his eyes and let your words sink in deep in his heart, replaying them to forget about the painful words you threw at him in his nightmare.

It wasn't real.

What's real is you, in front of him, holding his hands and you telling him that you love him.

What's real is you caring about him and sticking by his side even when he's feeling vulnerable.

Sylus' silent reply came with a lingering kiss on your forehead. He wrapped one arm around your shoulders and guided you to lie back down. Once your back is flat against the soft mattress, Sylus pulled you close to him.

Even though he didn't say anything, you felt his gratitude with the way he embraced you with such warm, gentle, and secure arms.

As he closed his eyes, he continued to replay the words you told him.

At last, he was gifted with a peaceful dream.

///////

xavier

Surrounded by speck of lights, Xavier spun you around as you and him dance slowly underneath the stars.

You two were on your way home after a dinner date when you heard music blasting from a nearby concert venue. Live music echoes throughout the park with the big water fountain, completely empty since it's already quite late.

Xavier gazed at the way your face lit up as you laugh after suddenly losing balance and almost stepping on his feet.

"You didn't accidentally drink alcohol tonight, did you?" He held your hands tightly to keep you stable.

"Of course not! I just got a little dizzy, that's all."

"Maybe you just need to sleep more." he says half-jokingly as he rested his hands on your waist. "Instead of leaving the bed so early in the morning, you should just wait for me to wake you up. I'll be your alarm clock."

"Pfft. If that's the case, we might be sleeping forever." You cupped his face with your hands as he looks at you with bright eyes.

"That doesn't sound too bad." he whispers, leaning closely to brush his lips against yours. "I don't mind, as long as you're next to me. We have all the time in the world."

Just as he closed the distance between your lips, you suddenly froze and moved back.

"Hmm? What's - "

You let go of him and put a hand on your chest, right over your heart.

"It... it hurts..."

Your face suddenly turned pale.

"I - can't b-breathe..."

Xavier felt his world stop as your legs gave out. His arms stopped your knees from hitting the ground, and his body became numb after feeling how clammy your skin had gotten.

"X-xavier...."

He found himself struggling to take a breathe, too.

He was petrified.

He didn't know what to do.

It was happening again. He was losing you all over again, just like in every life time he had with you. Just when he thought he finally got it right this time, just when he thought he'd get his happy ending...

He couldn't lose you.

Not now. Not again.

He has to do something.

"Xavier..."

His vision suddenly darkened. You vanished completely, and he couldn't feel your body at all. It's like you'd turned into dust.

"No..."

"Xavier..."

"Where are you?" he cried in panic, desperately looking around for you yet not a single light welcomed his eyes. He called out your name repeatedly, but your voice was fading away.

"Where....."

"Xavier!"

And in an instant, a flash of light embraced him. He opened his eyes and the first thing he sees is you, sitting next to him and looking at him with wide, worried eyes.

You were wearing pajamas rather than the fancy dress he last saw you in. There is no fountain, and you were not at a park. You two are in his apartment, in his bedroom.

"You...." His heart was racing as he looked at you for a long time. "You're..... you're...." His throat felt tight and dry.

You took his hands and held them tightly. "I'm right here, Xavier." You pulled him into your arms and rested his face against your chest. "Everything is fine."

He closed his eyes and exhaled as he heard the sound of your stable heartbeat.

You're here and you're okay.

"I thought...." Xavier groans and shakes his head. He'd rather not recall that nightmare. "I'm... I'm glad you're here."

You held him tighter, feeling his body's warmth returning. "I won't go anywhere."

You took the hint that he didn't want to talk about what got him shaking and breathing heavily in his sleep. Sometimes, it's good to talk about nightmares, and sometimes it's better to just let it fade away.

"It's around five in the morning." you told him. "The birds are gonna start chriping soon. Do you wanna step out with me to see them?

"Yeah." he smiled against your chest. "I'd like that."

////////

rafayel

It was his own fault that you ran away from him. He was feeling sick, particularly due to his Lemurian nature, and he blurted out that he needed some time away from you for a while, right when you were trying to take care of him. He was overwhelmed and frustrated, and he told you something he didn't mean.

And now, you're gone.

The house and the beach have never felt so empty and lonely.

He couldn't recall when was the last time he'd seen you and heard your voice.

Rafayel finds himself sitting in front of an unfinished painting of the one he loves. He'd memorized the expression you wear when you'd admire the sunset with him after collecting sea shells. He painted that precious memory just so he can see your face outside of his head.

He wondered what you would think about your portrait once he shows it to you.

He waited and waited.

But you never came back.

Rafayel couldn't remember. Has it been weeks? Months? Years? Did another lifetime pass? Will he have to search for you again?

Of course, he'd do it. He'll wait for you and search for you for as long as he needs. For as long as he can.

But he really thought this lifetime would be it. He thought, maybe, you won't lose each other this time. He had everything he wanted, and yet...

You left him again. You'd given up on him.

If only he could turn back time, he'll find a way to show his true feelings. He'd find a way to keep you close and never let you go.

If only....

"What a mess you are."

"....huh....?"

That was your voice.

His eyes snapped wide open to see you looking down on him. He was sitting down on a chair and his head was down on a table, on top of the unfinished painting of you.

He had fallen asleep with paint all over his face and clothes, though he didn't care about that.

Was it all just a dream?

Was he given another chance?

"You... Are you really here?"

You tilted your head at the sound of his weak voice. "I am. Mostly, I'm here to check up on you because I thought you wouldn't sleep. I'm glad to learn that I was wrong. You were talking in your sleep."

He was saying some things in Lemurian, so you didn't understand. Though, he clearly looked upset, so you contemplated whether to wake him up or not. Nonetheless, his eyes opened at the sound of your voice, no matter how quiet you tried to be.

"You're here....Even though I...." he looks away, feeling his stomach churning with discomfort. "Even though I pushed you away...." He looked down at the portrait he'd been working on. "In my dream, you left and didn't come back. I was waiting for you, but you weren't coming. I thought I wasn't going to see you again, and I was.... I was scared."

You felt your heart drop as his voice quivered. You stepped towards him and pulled him into a hug, catching him by surprise.

"Rafayel..." He buried his face in your stomach. "I'm not going to leave you. Sure, you can be a little dramatic and moody. Sometimes, you overwhelmed and frustrated. Sometimes, you'd want space, and that's perfectly okay."

He wrapped his arms around you tightly.

"I couldn't resist staying away from you for more than five days." you laughed. "That's why I'm here. To see how you are."

"I..." he looks up at you and flashes you a smile. "I'm feeling better now that you're here."

"Good." You caressed his face and wiped a speck of paint that was on his chin. "Now let's get you cleaned up."

"Okay!"

///////

zayne

Zayne exited a patient's room just in time to hear the commotion out in the hallway. He could hear Yvonne giving out orders. She's trying to sound calm, but he could tell that she was shaken by something.

He took five steps right before an unconscious body was brought in a stretcher.

His eyes noticed the hunters' uniform first, torn and covered in blood. Then, there was the gaping wound on your stomach. Lastly, your cold, paling face.

Zayne dropped the clipboard that was in his hand. His feet acted on their own and rushed to your side, shakily calling out your name.

His hands shook and his vision blurred.

"Doctor Zayne!" Yvonne came up next to him. "She's - "

"I'm her primary doctor. I'll -"

He was stopped from entering the room that you was taken into.

Instead, Greyson came running in, but not before giving Zayne a look of sympathy. "I'll do all that I can to save her."

"I'm going in too."

Yvonne put a hand on his shoulder.

"Doctor Zayne... She's going to be okay. We can trust Doctor Greyson."

His breath comes out raggedy as he tries to calm his pounding heart in his tightening chest. "But I'm her physician. I'm the one that should be treating her."

"I'm sorry, Doctor Zayne."

He knows the rules, yet he found them hard to follow at the moment.

Doctors are generally not supposed to operate on anyone that's close to them, such as a family member or a partner, due to several complicated ethical matters.

But still, he should be the one to treat you.

What was the point of him becoming a doctor if he couldn't save your life?

"Let me...."

"We're losing her!" someone exclaims from your room.

Zayne felt his vision spinning. He tried to get to you, but his legs stopped working.

Why couldn't he move?

He needed to see you. To save you.

Move.

Save her.

There's no time.

Move.

Move, or else she's going to....

"Zayne!"

His body felt as if it had been pulled out of a frozen lake. He gasped and shot up from his seat, finding his legs working perfectly. He's inside his home office and he had taken a nap right on his desk.

"Zayne! Are you okay? I heard you screaming so I -" you failed to finish your sentence as you were suddenly pulled in his arms.

Your feet lifted from the ground while you wrapped your arms around his back. Zayne rested his face against your neck and took a deep breath and a slow exhale, tickling your skin.

From where your hands are, you could feel him slightly trembling. He must have had a horrible nightmare.

"I never want to feel that again." he whispered, pressing you tighter against him. "Please, don't go."

You ran your hands up and down his back. "I'm not going anywhere."

Zayne didn't leave your side for the rest of the night.

////////

caleb

After all these years, he couldn't believe he finally got what he wanted. You're by his side, not just as your childhood friend, but as your lover.

Out of all the people, you chose him.

It felt too good to be true.

And maybe that's why you were once again taken from him.

One day, he received a call from your boss. Apparently, you had encountered someone from Ever and got in a dangerous fight. You were taken to a hospital, so Caleb instantly left Skyhaven to see you.

He entered your room with a basket full of apples. "Pip-squeak, you look terrible."

You stared at him with a deadpanned expression.

You had bandages wrapped around the top of your head, since that was where your main injury is. Aside from that, you had minor bruises and scratches on your arms.

"Tough crowd today." He sat on the chair and held your left hand.

You pulled away quickly.

"Huh? What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

You blinked at him with confusion. "....Who are you?"

"...." Caleb lets out a chuckle, even though his heart had already dropped. "That's not funny."

The look on your face told him that you weren't in the mood for jokes either.

"You.... you don't remember me?"

You shook your head. "I'm sorry, but I can't remember..."

His entire world felt like it came crashing down.

All the memories he'd desperately tried to preserve. All the moments you'd spent together, from when you were kids that were nothing more than lab rats, to when you both started living with your grandma, to when you reunited after the incident, and to when you started to become lovers. All of it is gone.

You're looking at him with nothing but confusion in your eyes.

You didn't even want to hold his hand.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault." Behind his pained smile, he clenched his fists even though he could no longer feel them.

This is all Ever's fault.

He is going to make them pay for hurting you and taking away all of your precious memories, stripping you of your identity.

"While you recover, I'll look after you." he told you while holding an apple towards you. "If you need anything, just let me know."

"Okay."

Despite your reply, you never came to him for help. Even when your injuries got better, you refused his offers to look after you and keep you company.

You never asked about your old memories. You weren't even trying to regain them. It's like you'd turned into a new person, and he had become a stranger to you.

You were his entire world, but he was nothing but a fragment of your past that you no longer know and care for. He was nothing to you.

It should be fine, right?

You're alive. That's the most important part.

You were safe, and he's going to make sure you stay safe, even if he has to stay in the shadows.

So, why does it hurt so much?

Why did getting out of bed feel pointless? Why does he check his phone, knowing he hasn't crossed your mind at all? Why did his shoulders feel heavier and his chest tighter?

He just wanted to see you. He wanted to hear your voice, calling his name to show him something silly so he can laugh with you.

He wouldn't mind if you get angry with him for all the stupid things he'd done. As long as you know he's there, as long as you look at him, that's enough for him.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Caleb almost fell out of bed at the alarm ringing in full blast.

"What....?"

He wasn't in his dark, lonely room in Skyhaven. He's in your bright and colorful apartment, on your warm bed.

And there was someone humming from outside the room.

Caleb slowly got out of bed and followed the source of the humming that had his heart racing and swelling, warming up his body that had been feeling cold and empty just seconds ago.

He enters the kitchen and finds you cooking breakfast.

Suddenly, breathing became ten times easier.

You yelped as you were hugged from behind. "Caleb! Don't scare me like that!"

He smiled against your shoulders. "It's you that scared me to death, pip-squeak."

"Me? What do you mean?!"

"Nothing." He pressed his lips on your right cheek. "So, what's for breakfast?"

It was just a nightmare. It wasn't real, and it's never going to be real. He'll make sure of it. He will never let anything happen to you for as long as he lives.

All he ask for in return is for you to keep looking at him with the same light of love and happiness in your eyes.

5K notes · View notes

humanjarvis · 23 days ago

Text

forever boy

synopsis: you used to tell caleb everything. so why doesn’t he know about your new tattoos?

tags: fluff to angst to fluff, you get tattoos without telling caleb and he freaks out and you argue, he guilts you into showing him, surprise reveal (guess what the tattoos are), references to the fleet stuff and his bionic arm, caleb has nightmares, pathetic puppy caleb is back, he’s in the doghouse (ha get it) for less than a day, groveling, happy ending word count: 2.3k

a/n: i am proud of this i think. i made up some dates bc idk the timeline in this game. i also have no tattoos if you were wondering. there are allusions to a beloved recent drabble of mine in here can you guess which one

“Get off of me!” you squeal, gasping through chortles as Caleb's fiendish fingers dance over your belly.

“No can do, pips. Tickle monster doesn’t let his victims off that easy.”

He’s had you pinned down on the couch for almost 10 minutes now, poking and prodding at your sides until you’d grown nauseous from laughter.

But still, Caleb won’t relent. Each time you swat his chest, try to bring your knee up between his legs—cute—he only moves his hands faster. For all the months he’d spent starved for your smile, he’s making up for lost time, he thinks.

“I’m not…laughing because I’m having fun,” you wheeze, wriggling under him unsuccessfully. “This is basically torture. When I get free…I’m making sure you get a dishonorable discharge.”

“What?” he smirks down at you. “If this is so torturous, why don’t you just push me off? Waitttt,” he gasps, leaning in conspiratorially. “It can’t be because I’m stronger than you, can it?”

As his infuriatingly smug, annoyingly handsome face looms over you, Caleb doesn’t realize he’s flown too close to the sun. Before he can react, you capitalize on the opening. Squirming out from beneath him, you take advantage of his surprise and use the momentum to flip him over, your hips now on his waist in a straddle.

“What were you saying?” you ask sweetly, the triumph in your voice slightly dampened by the way you’re still gulping down oxygen.

“Huh,” he shrugs, voice entirely too cheery for someone who’d just been bested. “I guess I stand corrected. Looks like someone’s been getting their reps in.”

“Won’t you admit defeat, then, Mr. Monster?” you smirk. And as you lean over him to assert your victory, Caleb can’t help but gawk at the way your lips part, your shirt rides up, your tattoo shines in the warm light of the—Wait. Your tattoo?!?

No matter how many times he blinked, there was no mistaking it. There, right on the side of your once-bare ribcage, lies the prominent, pitch-black ink.

You’re still hovering over him, your light, playful chuckles fanning his face, but they slowly fade out when his muscles go rigid. Perplexed, you follow his gaze down your body until you finally spot your exposed skin, and with the way you go rigid, Caleb can tell an argument is brewing between you.

The tense silence permeates the air, as if erasing the precious laughter he’d so giddily won from you just moments before.

Like usual, you break first. You couldn’t stand his silence, you’d said the last time. The way it makes you feel small, like you’ve done something wrong, like you’re in trouble. “So help me God, Caleb, I’m an adult and I can make my own decisions. Whatever you’re about to say, drop it. You can tickle me until my sides bleed, just—don’t.”

But Caleb, as much as he loved hearing your voice, wasn’t listening. While you were begging him to drop it, to leave it alone, he was too busy simmering over you doing something so drastic, so permanent to your body without his knowledge—like you didn’t trust him with the information. Didn’t trust him to hold your hand through the pain, to drive you home from the parlor, to wash and treat your tender flesh.

That awful feeling he thought you’d both moved past—had worked so hard to move you past—made him suffocate in his skin.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” he asks lowly, gravel filling his voice. “Were you…hiding it from me?”

As he rises to lift your shirt and get a clearer view, you intercept his hand in uncompromising resistance. He’d reached for you with his right arm. But somehow, your touch still manages to sting.

It’s Caleb’s turn to laugh, now, but the sound is hollow. “You won’t even show me,” he chuckles humorlessly. “Not even when I already know.” Firmly, but gently as ever, he lifts you off of him and onto the opposite side of the sofa.

You scoff at him, and the look of incredulity on your face would cause a less devoted man to back down. “Don’t lecture me about keeping secrets. I have a tattoo, Caleb. You have a double life.”

“It’s for your own safety that I—”

“Is it for my own safety that you treat me like a child?”

He pauses, and before he can stop it, he feels his face shift into the mask molded for him against his will. The face—his own, but somehow not—that plagues his nightmares. Cold, unfeeling, uncaring, indomitable.

“You don’t have to trust me anymore. But I’d appreciate it if you said it to my face instead of making me believe you did.”

He hears the soft gasp that escapes you, but he refuses to look—too consumed by his emotions, too ashamed to face yours. It’s when he turns to leave that he hears your quick footsteps, and almost immediately, you’re whipping him around to look at you.

Your shirt is raised to the base of your sternum.

And in the warm light of the living room, the soft glow of the summer evening illuminating the streaks on your skin, Caleb sucks in a breath.

VIII IX MMXLVIII

August 9, 2048.

The date your lives had changed. The date he’d broken his promise to always be by your side. The date part of him—physical, or something more—had died.

With a bold, decisive line striking through it.

His eyes dart to the space below. You had another one, he realized. This was the one he’d glimpsed earlier, then—the one that’d made him question your faith in him.

IV XVIII MMXLIX

April 18, 2049.

The date his life had been revealed to you. The date you’d fought your way back into it. The date your shattered souls had met again and vowed to mend each other.

This one is different from the last. The numerals are pure. Pristine, clear, unmarred. Unapologetic.

An insidious, deserved pang spreads through his chest. You’d wanted to remember both dates, to etch them into your skin. You’d needed to move past the first. You’d needed to savor the second.

A space on your sacred body, dedicated to him—to you both. To your tragic end, to your new beginning. Forever.

“Are you happy now, you jerk?” You seethe, yanking your shirt down and snapping him out of his reverie.

And as your voice wobbles, Caleb is anything but.

“Pip-squeak,” he starts hoarsely, feeling anxious bile scald the back of his throat. “I didn’t think…If I’d known….”

“But you didn’t know, Caleb. You didn’t need to know,” you stress. The pained inflections in your voice seem to sync with your steps as you walk to him, your head level with his shuddering chest. “I will bare my soul to you. Happily. When I am good and ready. But forcing me to do it before then? Just so you can convince yourself that I trust you? That gives me all the more reason not to.”

The bite in your tone numbs him to the way you push past him, shoving his shoulder hard enough to bruise. When you retreat to your bedroom, he hears the sharp click of the door lock and allows a wry grin to cross his face at the irony. And he thought you’d been shutting him out before.

You wake up with swollen eyes. An uncomfortable reminder of last night’s humiliation.

With a sigh, you roll your way out of bed, your limbs sore from being hunched in the fetal position for so long. You usually slept with a human-shaped back pillow, but you supposed that arrangement was on pause for the time being.

You wonder how he’s doing. How he’d spend the night, if he’d left in the middle of it. As much as you hate to think it, you wouldn’t blame him.

As you exit—or try to exit—your bedroom, though, it seems your worries are unfounded.

There, slumped against the wooden door, is a sleeping, miserable-looking Caleb. Eyebrows drawn, nose scrunched, hands twitching—he must be having a nightmare.

With a resolute swallow, you push down the pain from the night before and, against your better judgment, prop the door open just enough to slip out.

Kneeling beside him, you stroke his hair gently and hold his left hand in yours. “Caleb,” you call softly. “Wake up, please.”

At the sound of your voice, his eyes flutter open—slowly, at first, until they focus on you. In an instant, surprise, regret, and a flicker of hope flash across his face.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, tightening his grip on your hand. “I shouldn’t have—even if you hadn’t gotten them for us,” he breathes shakily, “I shouldn’t have pried.”

He’s sitting up now, having pushed himself off the door to get as close to you as you’d allow. The next time he speaks, the rasp in his voice suggests he’d slept about as well as you had.

“You should…” he begins, swallowing thickly. “You should only tell me your secrets when you’re ready. I’ll wait. I’m lucky to know anything about you at all.”

Your chest constricts, and the ghosts of mortification and unwarranted guilt are the only things stopping you from forgiving him. With a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, you remove your palm from his grasp, pretending not to notice when he chases your touch. “You should stretch your legs.”

The day is slow and awkward.

Your top-floor apartment is sweltering in the summer heat, so you don a loose crop top—it’s not like you have anything to lose anymore—and Caleb tries not to stare at your ribs.

It’s Sunday, the day you usually reserve for chores, and you try to ignore the way he follows you through every room: dusting your bedroom fan, mopping the kitchen floor, cleaning the bathtub while you wipe the counter. It’s a wordless process, but a seamless one—evidently, even a stalemate can’t jeopardize your synchrony.

He disappears when you’re finishing up, and as you wonder if he’d gotten sick of your anger, the scent of your favorite food wafts through the air. In curiosity, hunger, and abashed dependence—you couldn’t boil an egg without starting a fire—you warily make your way to the kitchen you’d both left spotless.

It still is, for the most part; the only hint of disturbance is the freshly cooked meal sitting on the island. One plate, one glass, one set of silverware. And Caleb sits in the living room, pretending to busy himself with a diagram, forlornly glancing over to you every few seconds. There if you need him, but not daring to intrude.

It’s nighttime when he tries again.

You’re reading on the couch, instinctively avoiding the cursed spot from the night before, when Caleb shuffles into the room. In utter dejection, he makes room for himself on the floor between your legs and hugs his knees to his chest. The action tugs at your dwindling resolve, weakened by the care he’d shown you today, and before you know it, you’re running your fingers through his hair.

He stiffens and relaxes at your touch before leaning back into you, enveloping himself in your embrace. As he presses innocent, lingering kisses to the inside of your knee, you feel the quiet tension in the room begin to build.

This time, he breaks the silence.

“I never would have imagined those days meant so much to you,” he begins softly. “Wasn’t sure if you thought the first was a blessing in disguise. If you thought the second was some kind of curse.” Your hand falters in his tousled locks, and he exhales shakily. “I was just…surprised, pips. And hurt, I guess. You doin’ something so serious without tellin’ me—it never would’ve happened before,” he murmurs. “I didn’t mean to guilt trip you into showing me, I just…”

“I didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed,” you whisper, saving him from the struggle of finding the right words. “Not because I don’t trust you. I do, if you can believe it. More than anyone.”

Caleb stills against you, and you place a hand on his shoulder before continuing with a sigh. “I basically saw those numbers in my sleep, at one point,” you chuckle in self-deprecation. “They flashed in my head over, and over, and over—the day I lost you, the day I found you. So I figured the only way to stop it was to carry them with me, always. And when the clarity hit…I thought I was silly. Immature. Like, I had something etched onto my body for you, Caleb. I felt like I was too attached. Too dependent on you.”

“Is it bad if I say I’d like that?” he quips with a tired smile. “Pip-squeak,” he sighs. “You could never be too attached to me. When I saw those dates—when I realized what they meant,” he swallows, “I wanted to hold you to me ‘til I couldn’t breathe. Wanted to tattoo your tattoos inside my eyelids so I could see them every time I blink,” he jokes, kissing your palm. “That’s too attached, by the way.”

As you giggle at him—your first in almost 24 hours—he brightens slightly. “I really am sorry for forcing your hand. Makin’ you feel like your only choice was to tell me. But, for the record, those are the least embarrassing tattoos I’ve ever seen. Gideon has one of a monkey, you know.”

And after you duck your head into his shoulder to stifle your laughter, you haul him up and into your bedroom—no door for a mattress, this time. You’re both due for some much-needed sleep.

The next day, you stand in front of your bathroom mirror while Caleb hugs you from behind, admiring the inky black lines on your exposed waist. Leaning in to kiss your cheek, he whispers into your ear: “You know, they say rib tattoos hurt a lot. You shouldn’t have had to go through all that alone. Why don’t I get matching ones so we can share the pain?”

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backinmyphase · 5 months ago

Text

"A gift from our village for the king, the great Lord Sukuna!"

There was cheering behind you, firing up the hatred for these people who threw you out for the lion the second their life was threatened. The king was sitting there, chin on his hand as his eyes went over you. You knew he was making out your worth right now. Deciding if you were really good enough for a gift.

He was a strange looking man. Four arms, two different sides of a face, marks everywhere and you could see with just how he was sitting that he had a tall frame.

He was strange, but more like fascinating strange. However, that wouldn't make you hate him any less. After all he was the reason these people, you called your people once, gave you away that easily.

If only he didn't exist.

"You are staring."

His voice is deep but with a tint of mockery. Normally you would lower your head. If you were normal thinking, you wouldn't have risked your head for a snappy comment. No, you would have just kept your mouth shut.

"You are too."

There were many gasps. The strange monk with white hair next to him frowned. But the Lord didn't even raise an eyebrow.

Instead he stood up and you saw you were correct with your assumption, he was towering above everyone here. He slowly made his steps towards you. Now you were realizing how dangerous your action was. Just the way his presence made you want to hide was enough prove that he was danger. He stopped before you, looking down on you.

His hand found it's way to your chin lifting it, so you kept looking at him. You knew you shouldn't move. One snap with his finger and you would be... Oh well.

"I am." he grinned, while meeting your eyes. His were red. So unbelievable red, only blood could be.

"I hope I am allowed."

The silence spoke loud. You knew he was mocking you. He was making out right now if he should kill you or not, you were sure. There was just no way out of it, the decision was purely relying on his mood.

"Of course the king is allowed!" you heard screams from the people behind you.

"Lord Sukuna can do whatever he wants, no commoner can speak with him that way!"

There was loud mumbling of agreement behind you, which made your body stiffen. They were trying to get on his good side, there was no doubt.

"Offering such a pretty flower, just because they heard I was coming. Assuming I would destroy this place." his fingers were slowly caressing your chin. "You must be angry they were so willing to give you to me, are you not?"

You blinked at him, seeing his grin growing.

"Want me to kill them?"

The mumbling immediately died down, the tension now palpable in the air. Sukuna was still staring, watching your every move, even just the glancing of your eyes. You were shaking. But not just out of fear.

"I don't need them to die." You saw how Sukuna raised an eyebrow while there was small sighing behind you, just until you spoke again. "But...

If you did want to kill them, I wouldn't be mad enough to stop you."

The only thing you heard was your own breathing. The people behind you were quiet like they were not even there. You didn't look at them no, you didn't dare to.

Not when the king was looking into your eyes.

Then he let go off your chin and started laughing. Just laughing for an unbearable long time. Time, in which you wondered if you were dead now.

But he just shook his head while his laughter died down.

"Uraume, bring her to the estate." The white haired monk was already by your side. They were looking at him with a curious glance.

"And you my lord?"

"I have a Village to kill."

Part 2

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

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aleksatia · 1 month ago

Text

You went for a drive out of the city, and during a coffee stop, you decided to break the news in a creative way. You had "Best Dad Ever" written on his cup.

🧜‍♂️ Rafayel

The drive is calm. For once, Rafayel isn’t dramatically complaining about how boring the scenery is, nor is he blasting music at full volume just to mess with you. Instead, he’s relaxed, one hand draped over the wheel, sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, humming lazily to himself.

You hand him his coffee.

“Mm, thanks, cutie,” he purrs, taking it without looking, already lifting it to his lips—

Sip.

Pause.

His fingers tighten slightly.

Then—

The car swerves.

"RAFAYEL!"

With zero hesitation, he veers off the road and slams the brakes, the car jerking to a sudden, dramatic stop.

"WHAT THE HELL—" you start, gripping the dashboard.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!"

Rafayel is staring at the cup like it just personally betrayed him. His eyes are huge, his fingers clamped so tightly around the cup that you’re genuinely worried it might crack.

He snatches off his sunglasses, turns to you, and—says nothing.

Just breathes heavily.

Like he’s witnessed something cosmic.

You raise an eyebrow. "Something wrong, babe?"

He flips the cup toward you, jabbing at the words printed on the side.

Best Dad Ever.

"Is this a joke?" His voice cracks. “IS THIS A JOKE?!”

You bite back a laugh. "Nope."

His entire body freezes. His brain disconnects from reality.

Then—

He LAUNCHES himself out of the car.

“RAFAYEL, OH MY GOD—”

He starts pacing.

Wildly.

Hand in his hair, fully spiraling.

"I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN!" He throws his arms in the air. "MY GENES ARE TOO POWERFUL—THIS WAS INEVITABLE—"

You lean out the window, exasperated. "Can you—"

"I CAN’T BREATHE—"

"Then inhale through your nose, genius."

"I AM. IT'S NOT ENOUGH."

He stops abruptly. Whips back toward you. Marches over to the car like a man with a mission, plants his hands on the doorframe, and leans in—

"You’re serious?" His voice is deadly quiet now.

You hold his gaze. “I’m serious.”

For a second, he just stares at you.

Then, suddenly—

He laughs.

At first, just a short breath. Then—full giddy, unfiltered joy. He grabs your face, kisses you sloppy and hard, and laughs against your lips like he can’t believe it.

"I KNEW IT!" He pulls back just to yell into the sky. "I AM ABOUT TO CREATE THE MOST GORGEOUS CREATURE IN EXISTENCE. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? THIS IS HISTORIC. THIS CHILD WILL BE A CULTURAL ICON—"

You groan. "Rafayel—"

“I HAVE TO DOCUMENT THIS MOMENT.”

"—No."

He’s already reaching for his phone.

"—RAFAYEL, NO—"

"WE NEED A PORTRAIT. A MONUMENT. A SERIES OF LIMITED-EDITION ART PRINTS."

You physically reach over and grab his wrist. "GET BACK IN THE DAMN CAR."

He gasps.

Dramatically.

Hand-on-heart levels of betrayal.

"You wouldn’t deprive me of this joy?"

"I will deprive you of seeing your child if you don’t start driving."

Instantly—he’s back in the car.

Straightens his jacket. Adjusts his hair. Puts on his sunglasses.

"Holy sharks," he breathes, gripping the wheel. "I'm gonna be a dad."

You sigh, finally relaxing. "Yeah, babe. You are."

He exhales slowly.

Then, softer this time, he reaches out, brushing his fingers over your stomach—reverent now.

"You just made me the happiest being alive," he murmurs. His smirk is still there, but his voice is completely serious.

You smile, resting your hand over his. “I know.”

The moment lingers—soft, intimate, perfect.

And then—

A wicked glint flashes in his eyes.

“Ohhh,” he grins, leaning back lazily. “This kid is gonna be a menace.”

You groan. "Rafayel—"

"THEY WILL BE CHAOS INCARNATE."

"Stop—"

"WE HAVE A DYNASTY TO BUILD."

And just like that—your entire future flashes before your eyes.

🖤🐦Sylus

It’s been a quiet drive, Sylus tapping his fingers against the steering wheel, humming along to the music. He’s in a good mood. Relaxed. Smug, as usual, but easygoing.

You hand him his coffee.

He takes it, sips, lets out a pleased little hum—

And then—

The car jerks.

You barely have time to register what happened before he slams on the brakes, throwing an arm across your waist to stop you from lurching forward.

“SYLUS—”

"EXCUSE ME?!"

The wheels screech to a stop on the side of the road. A cloud of dust kicks up behind the car, but Sylus doesn’t even look at it. No—his full, undivided attention is now locked onto the cup in his hand.

He turns it slowly, his crimson eyes glowing as he reads the words again. And again.

Best. Dad. Ever.

He blinks.

Then he grins.

Not just a smirk—a full, wicked, teeth-flashing, Sylus-style grin that immediately puts you on high alert.

“Kitten,” he purrs, tilting his head, voice dangerously low. “Is this what I think it is?”

You cross your arms. “If you think it means I’m pregnant, then yes.”

He lets out a low whistle, tapping the cup against the steering wheel like he cannot believe his luck.

“Oh-ho-ho,” he laughs, running a hand through his silver hair. “Oh, kitten.”

“…Why do you sound like you won something?” you ask, already regretting everything.

He takes another slow sip of coffee, relishing it, before placing the cup deliberately in the holder. Then he turns to you.

And just—stares.

His eyes gleam. His smirk deepens. And then—

“You belong to me now,” he murmurs, voice soaked in satisfaction.

Oh. Oh no.

“Don’t—”

“You were already mine,” he continues, ignoring your protest, fingers tracing slow circles on your knee. “But this? This makes it official.”

You squint. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he breathes, leaning in until his nose barely brushes yours. “You are so trapped.”

Your breath catches.

His lips brush your jaw. Soft. Slow. Dangerous.

“Our baby,” he murmurs against your skin. “My legacy.”

Okay, that makes you snort. “Legacy? Are you serious—”

His fingers tighten on your thigh.

“I never joke about ownership, kitten.”

Your stomach flips. “Sylus, I swear—”

“I am,” he continues, voice so dangerously pleased, “about to be the most unbearable man alive.”

“You already are.”

He chuckles, dark and smooth.

Then, with zero warning, he pulls your seat lever—fully reclines it—and cages you in with both arms.

“SYLUS—”

“You think I’m letting you out of this car without celebrating properly?” His knee presses between yours. His lips hover just over yours. “Oh, kitten.”

A smug, deadly whisper—

“You’re not going anywhere.”

And just like that—you are so. Completely. Screwed.

☃️ Zayne

The drive is quiet, smooth, the hum of the engine steady. Zayne is driving like he does everything else—efficiently, precisely, with absolute control. One hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gear shift, his posture effortlessly composed.

You hand him his coffee.

He takes it automatically, barely looking away from the road as he lifts it to his lips.

Then—

The cup stops midair.

His fingers tighten.

His eyes flick down.

The muscles in his jaw shift.

You can see the exact second his mind starts processing.

His lips part slightly. His brows furrow just a fraction.

His eyes scan the words again, like data he needs to verify.

Best Dad Ever.

And just like that—Zayne enters full diagnostic mode.

His pupils dilate. His breathing adjusts. His shoulders tense in micro-movements.

Then, before you can speak, he mutters—

“Seven weeks.”

You blink. “What?”

He doesn’t answer. He’s already calculating. His eyes flick to the dashboard clock—counting back the exact number of days since your last cycle.

“No, wait,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, “six weeks, five days. That lines up better with—”

He cuts himself off, his grip on the wheel adjusting, his mind racing a mile a second.

Then he grabs his phone with one hand and immediately dials a number.

You stare at him. “Zayne, what are you—”

“It’s Doctor Zayne, I need a full prenatal assessment scheduled immediately.”

“What?!”

He ignores you, listening intently. His tone is calm, clipped, entirely professional, as if he’s in the middle of a patient consultation.

“Yes, priority level one.” His fingers tap against the wheel. “Standard screenings plus full genetic panel. I also want a full cardiovascular assessment given her recent—”

“ZAYNE.”

His jaw tightens. He barely spares you a glance, still listening to whoever’s on the other end.

“No, reschedule that for tomorrow, I’ll be overseeing this personally—”

You reach over and end the call.

Silence.

Zayne blinks once, slowly, as if rebooting.

Then he turns his head very carefully toward you.

“…Did you just—”

“Yes.”

His eyelid twitches.

“You,” he says, deadpan, “just ended an emergency medical consultation with one of the most sought-after specialists in the Linkon-city.”

“Yes.”

His lips press together tightly. His nostrils flare just a fraction.

Then—the cracks start showing.

His throat bobs. His fingers flex around the wheel. His chest rises with a sharp inhale—

And then, finally, he breaks.

His entire body sags forward as he presses his forehead to the steering wheel, exhaling shakily.

“…Oh, fuck,” he mutters, voice completely wrecked.

You blink.

He takes another sharp breath, his hands gripping the wheel like he’s stabilizing himself.

“…I was fine,” he says, more to himself than to you.

You stare at him. “No, you weren’t.”

“I was,” he insists, head still against the wheel. “I had a plan. I was handling it.”

You tilt your head. “Handling it like a patient case?”

His fingers flex again. “It’s not the same.”

“Zayne.”

He doesn’t move.

“Zay.”

Nothing.

So you reach out, fingers slipping into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp—

He lets out a breath that absolutely shatters you.

Like something inside him has finally collapsed.

Then—without warning—he turns and kisses you.

It’s not like before. Not calculated, not measured, not careful.

It’s desperate.

Like he needs to feel you, needs to know you’re here, with him, real.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head.

“I can’t…” He exhales slowly. “I can’t lose control of this.”

Your chest tightens. “You don’t have to control everything, Zayne.”

His hand slips down, pressing gently against your stomach. His fingers splay, warm and reverent.

“…You’re right.” His voice is quieter now.

Another pause.

Then—

A tiny, breathless laugh escapes him.

You raise an eyebrow. “What?”

His eyes flick to yours, golden-green and impossibly soft.

“…I’m going to be a dad.”

You smile. “Yeah, you are.”

Another shaky exhale. Then, a full-blown smile—rare, genuine, warm.

“…Shit.” He laughs again, shaking his head. “I should’ve seen this coming.”

You grin. “Should I be concerned that you can predict organ failure before it happens, but not this?”

His hand tightens just slightly over your stomach. His smirk is smaller now, more sincere.

“No,” he murmurs. “Because this—”

He leans in, lips brushing just over your temple.

“This is the best surprise I’ve ever had.”

🍎 Caleb

It’s a perfect drive—at least, for now. The sun is low, stretching golden light across the road, and Caleb is relaxed, one hand on the wheel, the other lazily resting on the armrest. He’s humming to himself, terribly off-key, completely endearing, and utterly oblivious to the bomb you’re about to drop on him.

You hand him his coffee.

“Thanks, pip-squeak,” he murmurs, taking it automatically, his eyes still on the road.

He takes a sip.

Then—

He stops.

His hand tightens around the cup.

His posture locks up.

And just like that, you realize you’ve made a terrible mistake.

The car swerves.

“CALEB!”

With military precision, he pulls over so hard the tires skid, shifts into park, and slams the brakes.

He doesn’t move.

He doesn’t breathe.

You barely have time to process before he whirls toward you, holding up the cup like it’s an explosive device.

“WHAT. IS. THIS?!”

You blink. “Uh. Coffee?”

His eye twitches. His chest rises in one sharp inhale.

Then—his voice drops to a whisper.

“…Are you messing with me right now?”

Your lips twitch. “Nope.”

Silence.

Pure, deafening silence.

Then—

His entire soul leaves his body.

He throws the door open, jumps out of the car, and immediately crouches down with his hands on his knees.

You watch in real time as a fully grown man has a complete emotional crisis on the side of the road.

"OH FUCK. OH FUCK. OH FUCK."

“CALEB, GET BACK IN THE CAR.”

"I NEED A SECOND."

“You’re going to get hit by—”

"I NEED A FUCKING SECOND."

You drop your head into your hands as he rakes his fingers through his hair, muttering to himself like he’s trying to process the meaning of life.

Then—abruptly—he stops.

Stands up straight. Spins to face you.

“…How long?”

You hesitate. “Caleb—”

“HOW LONG?!”

You sigh. “A few weeks.”

His jaw clenches. His eyes dart down, scanning you, like he’s only just now realizing that oh shit, you’re actually pregnant.

Then—he yanks open the car door, sits back down, and buckles his seatbelt like it personally wronged him.

You blink. “…Are you okay?”

“No,” he admits immediately.

He exhales sharply, presses his hands to his face, and just—

Whimpers.

Not dramatically. Not in distress. Just the most overwhelmed, overjoyed, short-circuited noise you’ve ever heard come out of him.

Then, suddenly—he laughs.

Not just any laugh—a helpless, breathless, disbelieving laugh.

“Oh, fuck.” He drags a hand down his face, his grin growing. “Oh, fuck. We’re having a baby.”

You grin back. “Yeah, we are.”

He turns to you, and something changes.

The panic is still there—but beneath it? Something warm. Something so impossibly, devastatingly soft.

Then—he moves.

His hand presses to your stomach.

Just rests there.

Like he’s afraid to push too hard, afraid to shatter this moment.

His throat bobs. His fingers spread slightly.

And then, his voice—softer than you’ve ever heard it—

“…That’s our baby.”

You nod.

His eyes flicker. His entire body tenses.

Then, without warning—

You are no longer sitting.

You yelp as he hauls you into his lap, wrapping both arms around you and crushing you against his chest.

“CALEB—”

“NOPE.” His voice is muffled into your shoulder. “I NEED THIS. GIVE ME THIS. RIGHT NOW.”

You laugh. “You’re squishing me—”

"YOU’RE PREGNANT WITH MY BABY AND I HAVE TO DEAL WITH THIS EMOTIONALLY, THANK YOU."

You let him have it.

For a long moment, he just holds you. His breath is shaky, his grip tight, like he’s trying to memorize every second of this before it slips away.

Then—he shifts slightly.

A deep breath. A pause.

Then, suddenly—

His grip tightens, and he leans back just enough to look at you dead in the eyes.

“…Okay but—what about me?”

You blink. “What?”

His ears start going red.

“I mean,” he clears his throat, gaze darting anywhere but your face now, “what about… you know.”

You smirk. “I don’t know. Clarify.”

He groans, tilting his head back against the seat. “Pip-squeak, come on.”

You hum, trailing your fingers over his shoulders, down his chest. “Ohh. You mean—”

"YES." His grip tightens on your hips. "What happens now? Do I just—" He gestures vaguely between you. "Forget about it? Nine months of nothing?"

You shrug innocently. “Well. There are other ways…”

He freezes.

His eyes darken. His jaw clenches. His fingers twitch.

“…Other ways.”

You nod. “Mhm.”

He stares. Processing.

Then, suddenly—

He grabs the steering wheel with both hands, stares straight ahead, and shifts into drive.

“Okay.”

You snort. “That’s it?”

“I have to drive us home. Immediately.” His voice is far too serious. “This is now a time-sensitive situation.”

You laugh. “Caleb, you are so—”

He shoots you a warning look, eyes still burning. “Do not finish that sentence unless you want me to pull over again.”

You grin wickedly. “And then what?”

His grip tightens on the wheel.

Then, low and dark—

“…Don’t test me, pip-squeak.”

And just like that—

You have created a monster.

☀️ Xavier

The drive is smooth, effortless. Xavier handles the car the way he handles everything else—calmly, efficiently, like he’s already three steps ahead of reality. The road stretches endlessly ahead, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence between you.

You hand him his coffee.

“Thank you, love,” he murmurs, taking it without looking, perfectly composed, as always.

He lifts it to his lips, takes a sip—

Then stops.

His fingers tighten slightly around the cup.

You watch as his eyes flick down to the message.

Best Dad Ever.

For a moment, he doesn’t react. Doesn’t tense, doesn’t flinch. Just…observes.

Then, with deliberate ease, he tilts his head slightly in your direction.

“…Very funny.”

You blink. “Excuse me?”

He gestures toward the cup, lips twitching in amusement. “You can’t fool me, princess. I know you too well.”

He takes another slow sip, entirely unbothered.

“This is a joke,” he continues, matter-of-factly. “You wanted to see if I’d panic. Clever, but predictable.”

You hum thoughtfully. “Oh, yeah? What makes you so sure?”

His smirk grows. “Because if it were real, you’d be significantly worse at hiding your anticipation.”

You tilt your head. “Mm. Maybe.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he shifts his focus back to the road. “You’ll have to do better than this next time.”

You shrug, lifting your own coffee to your lips.

He barely glances at it.

Then—he does a double take.

His brows furrow. His body stiffens slightly.

You see it—the moment the wheels in his head start turning. The moment his brain connects the dots.

Best Mom Ever.

Of twins.

There is a pause. A deep, soul-crushing pause.

Then, slowly, very slowly, he takes one more sip of coffee.

And immediately chokes on it.

He coughs once, hard, sharp. His grip on the wheel tightens so fast his knuckles go white.

And then—he does the single most terrifying thing he has ever done in his entire existence.

He slowly eases his foot off the gas pedal.

Not jerking the car. Not slamming the brakes. Just gradually reducing speed with surgical precision.

His eyes are locked straight ahead, unblinking.

The car glides toward the shoulder of the road in complete, deafening silence.

Then, in eerie, methodical movements,

He puts the car in park.

Takes off his seatbelt.

Reaches over.

And plucks your coffee out of your hands.

You blink. “Xavier?”

He says nothing.

Instead, he places both cups onto the dashboard.

Adjusts them. Lines them up perfectly so that the words are directly facing him.

Then—

He stares.

At the cups.

At the words.

At his entire future.

Silence.

Then, very quietly—

“…Twins.”

His throat bobs.

His hand comes up and presses against his temple.

Another beat of pure silence.

Then—

He laughs.

A single breathless, helpless laugh.

Then another.

And another.

Until suddenly—

He dissolves into a full-blown existential breakdown.

His entire body tips forward, forehead pressing against the steering wheel.

“Twins.” His voice is muffled, bordering on delirious. “I—twins. Two. There are two.”

You bite your lip. “There will be, yeah.”

He lets out a sound that is neither human nor machine.

Then, slowly—he lifts his head again.

His eyes are unfocused, like he’s calculating probabilities of survival in real-time.

Then—

His head turns toward you.

And you swear you see actual panic.

“How,” he exhales, voice quiet, shaky, “do we own two of something when we never needed to own one?”

You blink. “Xav, what—?”

He gestures vaguely at the cups.

“How do we prepare for twins if we were never prepared for a singular baby?”

You open your mouth—

"WE DON'T EVEN HAVE TWO OF THE SAME PILLOW."

You freeze. “What.”

He gestures more aggressively now, looking absolutely unhinged.

“OUR BED.” He waves toward the back seat. “THE PILLOWS. THEY’RE DIFFERENT. HOW DID WE GET TWO DIFFERENT PILLOWS? HOW DID I LET THIS HAPPEN?”

You stare at him.

“You’re spiraling.”

“I AM LOGICALLY PROCESSING THE GRAVITY OF OUR SITUATION.”

“Xavier.”

He inhales. Exhales.

Then, softer now, more real, more raw—

“…We’re going to have twins.”

You nod.

His shoulders drop. His eyes soften.

Then—before you can react, he reaches out, pulls you into his lap, and buries his face into your neck.

For a long moment, he just holds you.

No overthinking. No calculations.

Just you.

When he finally speaks, his voice is low, warm, unshaken.

“…I am never going to recover from this information.”

You laugh softly. “You will.”

He leans back just enough to meet your eyes. And finally—finally—his lips curve into a small, exhausted smile.

“…They’re going to be terrifyingly intelligent.”

You snicker. “Oh, for sure.”

“And devastatingly attractive.”

“Obviously.”

He hums. “I will be insufferable.”

“You already are.”

His arms tighten around you, his lips brushing your forehead.

“…I’m going to be a father of twins.”

“You are.”

“…That’s the most terrifying thing I’ve ever heard in my life.”

You grin. “You’ll be fine.”

Another pause.

Then—

A mischievous glint sparks in his eyes.

“…Twins, you said?”

You narrow your eyes. “Yes?”

His smirk returns, sharper this time.

“So.” He tilts his head. “Shall we test for a third?”

You shove him so hard the car rocks slightly. ****** More stories here: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleksa_Tia

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nightmare-niko · 7 months ago

Text

Blame It On The Rain [Nicholas Alexander Chavez x reader]

Word count: 855

Warnings: oral (m! receiving), rough sex, shower sex, once again completely self-indulgent

A/N: the obsession is going strong hehehe

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

Your boyfriend lay on your bed, scrolling away on his phone. Such a simple task, but he looks so damn good. You lean against the door frame, shamelessly watching your unsuspecting lover.

"Hey, Nick?" You call out innocently.

"Yes, baby?" He looks up from his phone.

"I'm gonna shower."

He looks at you, confused, “oookay..?”

"Join me.”

The corners of his mouth curled up into a mischievous smile, "you askin or tellin?"

You roll your eyes, “Meet me in the bathroom in two minutes!” you turn on your heels and head towards your bathroom.

”Or what?" He shouts, still in your room.

"Or you're not getting head for a month!" You close the bathroom door behind you.

You hastily drop your pants and turn on the warm shower water. You hear Nicholas fumbling around in your bedroom. and you're not surprised when he practically through the door.

"That was like twenty seconds dude,” You feign disappointment.

Nicholas just shrugs, taking off his shirt in one movement.

"The waters not even warm yet!"

"Don't care!" He pulls you in for a rough kiss, tongues fighting for dominance— not like you'd ever win.

You waste no time untying his sweatpants and pulling them down haphazardly. You go to pull down his underwear but are met with bare skin. You pause and pull away, you giggle as he chases your lips for more, “No underwear? what a slut!" You tease.

"Says the one who lured me in here just to fuck me,” he accuses.

You gasp and wrap your nimble fingers around his half-hard cock. "I didn't call you in here just fuck you!" You defend, running your thumb over his slit— he hisses.

”Why am I here then?” His voice is strained.

You hum, pretending to think deeply about his question. letting go of him you take a step back. He whines at the loss of contact, eyes trained on you as you remove your shirt and underwear.

Now, just as bare as him you step into the water stream. you sigh in delight as the waterfalls around you.

Nicholas steps in behind you, “Baby this water is boiling!”

You chuckle and turn around to change the water temperature for him. With for back facing him he wastes no time landing a loud “thwack” on your bare ass.

“Ow!! Nick what the hell!”

“I'm sorry I couldn't help myself!!”

“I'll remember that,” you warn as you pull him closer to you by his waist. “You're so hot,” you playfully bite his chest.

“So are you~” he runs his fingers into your hair and tugs your face up towards him, capturing you in another breathtaking kiss.

His now fully hard cock pressed in between your torsos. Backing up, he pulls you with him until his back meets the shower wall. You recapture his lips in a searing kiss, your greedy hands roaming and feeling his toned body.

You part briefly for air, the both of you breathing heavily. Nicholas’ eyes are deep with desire as he trails kisses along your jaw down to your neck. A soft moan escapes your lips.

As much as you wanted to lose yourself in the feeling of your boyfriend— you had brought him here for a reason. “Let me take care of you,” you offer— pulling back from his grasp.

He looks at you for a moment— pupils blown out in his eager eyes.

He moans pathetically when you finally sink to your knees. “Use me,” you mutter.

“W-what?”

“I want you,” you wrap your hands around the base of his shaft. “To use me,” you kiss up the sides until you reach the tip.

‘A-Are you sure?? I don't want to hurt you!”

“Nicholas,” you state flatly. “I want you to fuck my face. Now.”

He growls, gripping your hair tightly. This is what you've been waiting for!

“Tongue. out,” he demands, you stick out your tongue obediently.

He slaps his red leaking tip on it with his free hand before he presses you all the way down his shaft. He throws his head back and it thumps against the wall behind him as a moan rips through him.

“fuck—” he curses, as he begins his steady rhythm fucking into your mouth.

You run your manicured nails along his toned thighs, leaving red scratches in their wake.

You can feel his cock twitch deep in your throat.

You look up at him through your eyelashes— you moan at his fucked out state. The vibration sends him over the edge as he pulls out of your mouth. The string of saliva connecting your tongue and his tip is downright pornographic. Hot ropes of white cum fall on your face and tongue as your boyfriend shouts obscenities from above you.

You rise from your position on the bathtub floor. You reach up and pull Nicholas down for one final kiss— He whines as he tastes himself on your lips.

You pull away, dopey grin on both of your faces. “See now— that. Is why I called you here.”

Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)

@Nallasstuff @chmpgneprblem @qoopeeya @lilybellalana @sleepysongbirdsings

#friends #mutuals #art #wattpad #writing #original story #fanfic #fantasy #moodboard #fanfiction #nicholas alexander chavez x reader #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #father charlie mayhew #charlie mayhew #charlie mayhew x reader #smut

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littlepuppers · 5 months ago

Text

i really want to go camping. just a nice, solo camping trip to relax and have time to myself :)

I’d wake up and make breakfast, hike up to a different spot, start a fire and forage for a bit, draw or carve something, and setup camp for the night.

i have one pair of pjs with me and my sleeping bag for the night because i don’t have to worry about anyone judging what i wear or asking me for a spare blanket. So i packed just a pair of booty shorts and a smallish tank top. it’s just basic undergarments, nothing fancy, and i would be pretty embarrassed if anyone knew i wore these drabby clothes to sleep.

after i make a cup of sleepytime tea and wait for the fire to die out, i snuggle up in my sleeping bag. it’s a bit chillier tonight but i don’t have any other clothes to wear on top of this since i only brought my pjs and my stinky hiking clothes.

whatever. i drift off to sleep and dream of watching shooting stars falling around me, so pretty. as they crash onto the ground around me i feel the heat from them on my skin. it’s getting warmer, but i also really feel it on my cheeks. like i’m flushed or blushing. i watch the stars spark into flames and die out into embers.

animals start to surround me. deer, rabbits, foxes, and coyotes. they all come up around me and start sniffing my face and body. they start licking my face and neck, i giggle trying to push them away, it tickles. one of the coyotes that’s licking my stomach starts traveling down toward the hem of my shorts. woahhh haha, watch out buddy, i tell him.

Obviously not understanding english, he nudges his snout under the hem and takes a lick on my parts. i push his head away harshly and sit up. Immediately im pushed back down by the other animals and a huge buck comes and steps on my hair and arms so i can’t move.

i know this is a dream but how am i not waking up already???

a rabbit comes and starts pulling my shorts down, the coyote comes back and nudges his snout between my legs, i scream and try to close them but he turns and bites one. fuck, that felt real.

He goes back and starts licking, hesitant at first, just seeing how it tastes i guess. since foraging and meal prepping the smart and healthy way, ive only packed like fruit and stuff so obviously it probably tastes like really fucking good. at least that’s all i can assume from him diving in, licking deeper and deeper. fuck her tongue is fucking huge. it goes in and out fluidly. the slick sounds filling the air along with my whimpers and the other animals breathing and chirping and whining.

i feel it building up in my tummy, something molten. fuck, this is the weirdest wet dream i’ve ever had.

all of the sudden, his tongue dives insanely deep and curls into one of my spots. I wake up with a gasp and shaking through an orgasm. letting out a loud screaming moan, my eyes shoot open as i feel it curl inside me again.

WHAT THE FUCK

a tall dark figure is above me, my sleeping bag is unzipped and this persons hand is between my legs, his fingers curl inside me again. i scream, grabbing his arm and trying to push him away and get his fingers out. he plunges them deeper and uses his other hand to wrap around my neck and push it to the ground, holding it there.

i try to scream but can’t with my minimal airway, so i struggle and whimper, squeezing and trying to tear his arm away from my neck but it won’t budge. his fingers are still thrusting in and out of me, sometimes slowing down to explore and prod at my spots. i really cant help but shiver from the stimulation and orgasm from earlier. but who the fuck is the guy and how did he get in here and find me?!?

he finally speaks, moving his fingers to slip out a bit. “you weren’t this wet the whole time darlin’, my friend had to help you out to start, could barely get him off’a you. but i can’t blame him…” the dark figure takes his fingers out slowly with a shhlickkk sound, putting them up to his mouth, “…because you sure do taste fucking heavenly.” he leans to the side so i can see behind him something moves, a fucking dog. what the fuck. i thrash and whimper. “don’t fucking move. he bit you once, he’ll do it again.” I freeze, the bite, the dream, fuck it was all real.

the dog starts whining and tries to come up to me but the man pushes him back. he pushes his fingers back into me and starts moving them again, fuck i’m so overstimulated it almost hurts. “fuck, he’s eager. do u mind if he goes for a second course?” “fuck you,” i strain out. he opens my legs barely and the dog jumps over me sniffing and licking as deep inside as he was in the dream. fuckkk this is horrible i could get a disease or something, he needs to stop licking at my fucking spots it’s really too much.

the pressure starts building again. oh no, no no no no. please god i can fucking cum on a dogs tongue. opposing to my thoughts, my body gets closer and closer and- he stops. i freeze and tears start flowing from my eyes. from relief his contact from me is gone and because my body is so worn out now.

SHITT, something scrapes at my hips, the dogs paws, what the fuck is going on?? “sorry darling, he needs a little help, do you mind?” the man takes the pillow out from under my head and harshly lifts my hips, placing it underneath. he takes his hand off my throat finally, i gasp for air and can barely speak through my damaged vocal chords, “fuck you asshole.” “uhh yeahhhh i won’t, but he’s about to.” he nudges the dog forward. the man stuffs my shorts into my mouth so i can’t scream. how the fuck is this happening.

the dog immediately scratches at my hips again and starts rutting his hips toward me. FUCK NO. i thrash around but feel something poke my neck. it’s the man holding my wood carving knife i. his hand against my neck. “move, and I’ll fucking slit your throat.” tear start flowing from my eyes. how did i ever get in this position. i feel something scortching start to poke at my entrance, fuck please no please please please no…

the dog edges toward me more and suddenly plowing himself so deep inside me, how the fuck did i think doggy dicks were small??? this feels fucking huge, it fucking hurts. he’s thrusting in and out and an inhumane pace. his huge red doggy part pushes every single one of my spots and i can’t think anymore, i can’t even move. it’s like he’s going through me i can almost feel it in my stomach. he starts growling and i feel it get bigger. no way, this dog is not gonna knot me. please god. he can’t fit it in thank god.

“aw cmon buster, you can do better than that,” the mysterious man says before pushing the dogs backside against me and i feel it force inside me FUCK.

fuck that’s huge, i can’t fucking move because i think im gonna break. help please someone help me god…

i feel it. the flooding of molten liquid filling me. all i can do is whine through this soaked through fabric. i’m such an idiot for getting myself in this stupid situation, for not bringing a gun, im so stupid. there’s nothing i can do now except stay still while this dogs huge knot presses on my spot and his cum dumps into my cervix. i feel it dripping out. all over my sleeping bag and the floor of the tent. “how’d that feel hun? seems buster loved it, did you?” he takes his finger and wipes from the base of the dogs cock, bringing the liquid up to my mouth and smearing it all over my lips. i feel it leak down into my mouth and i’m utterly repulsed.

the dog breaks away with a POP and my legs and hips and whole body goes lax. the man chuckles and puts his hand down there again. oh no please don’t, and he doesn’t. instead, he scoops up the dogs cum and pushes it back into me. “good girl keep it in ok? the scent of it will help him track you down again.” i groan weakly and my vision begins to go blurry. the last thing i see is him throwing a stick outside the tent and the stupid dog running off after it to fetch.

fuck camping.

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pjmxtra · 18 days ago

Text

over power! ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

paring: 니키 x fmr!

Warning: Smut! Reader is described as fragile, easy to break, reade has itty bitty titties •͈ᴗ⁃͈⊹ size kink, big dick riki

an: before any more people ask if I stole the fic I did not!! It was my old account l0vely4ly! I got t worded so went back to this account! Idk how to prove it but I have the other 2 fics I posted and will be posting them on here for you guys to enjoy! Mwah

The air between you was thick with tension, your close proximity only making it worse. Your breath came in quick, uneven puffs, but you refused to let it show that he had any effect on you. A teasing chuckle slipped past your lips as you tightened your grip around Riki’s wrists, straddling him with all the confidence you could muster. His broad frame lay beneath you, his toned arms flexing under your hold, but you pretended not to notice. Instead, you tilted your head, a smug grin pulling at your lips.

“See? I’m so much stronger than you,” you taunted, sticking your tongue out playfully as you wiggled your hips in victory. A low, almost imperceptible groan rumbled from Riki’s chest, his dark eyes flashing with something unreadable. He rolled his eyes at your childish display, yet the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips told you he was enjoying this just as much as you were.

“Whatever,” he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. “I let you win, you know that, right?” His cocky expression made your nose scrunch in irritation. Huffing, you retorted, “No, I won fair and squa—”

Before you could even finish your sentence, the world tilted. In a blur, Riki’s wrists twisted out of your grip with ease, and in one swift movement, he flipped you onto your back. A startled gasp left your lips as your body met the plush mattress, the air momentarily knocked from your lungs. Your hands instinctively reached out to push him off, but it was useless—he was already caging your wrists above your head, his fingers wrapping around them with little effort.

Your heartbeat stuttered, your body suddenly feeling so much smaller beneath him. Riki loomed over you, his frame casting a shadow over yours, his weight effortlessly pinning you down. His long fingers, once restrained, now held you in place as if you were nothing more than a plaything in his grasp. His expression was unreadable, but there was an undeniable flicker of satisfaction in his darkened gaze as he took in the sight of you beneath him—wide-eyed, breathless, utterly at his mercy.

“Fair and square, huh?” His voice was a deep murmur, laced with amusement as he dipped his face closer to yours. His lips curled into a smirk, his head tilting as he studied your expression.

You fluttered your lashes, still trying to recover from how easily he’d turned the tables on you. The power dynamic had shifted so suddenly, so effortlessly, that it sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re a cheater,” you whispered, brows furrowed, a pout settling on your lips.

Riki only chuckled, his grip tightening slightly as he leaned in, his breath ghosting over your skin. “Am i?” he murmured, his voice dangerously smooth.

You writhed beneath him, stubbornly refusing to accept defeat even as your strength dwindled against his grip. Your breath hitched as you twisted your wrists, but it was useless—Riki was bigger, stronger, and effortlessly holding you in place. A frustrated sigh left your lips, your chest rising and falling rapidly. “Let me go,” you whined, a last-ditch attempt at regaining control. “I already won, cheater.”

Riki only chuckled, low and mocking, his head tilting as he looked down at you like you were nothing more than an amusing little thing beneath him. His fingers flexed around your wrists, pressing them deeper into the mattress, his weight keeping you trapped beneath him. “No can do, pretty,” he murmured, his voice dripping with amusement. “I like it this way.”

A shiver ran down your spine as one of his hands moved, trailing down to the hem of your oversized shirt—his shirt. The fabric bunched beneath his fingertips, and your breath quickened, panic and anticipation tangling into something dangerous. His other hand remained wrapped around your wrist, keeping you caged, helpless, completely at his mercy.

“Riki,” you whimpered, jutting out your bottom lip in a weak attempt at garnering sympathy. “This isn’t fair.” His dark eyes locked onto yours, sharp and unyielding, amusement dancing within them as he took in the sight of you—pinned, squirming, utterly powerless. You swallowed hard.

He looked like a predator toying with his prey, dragging the moment out just to watch you suffer.

His lips curled into a smirk as he leaned in, his breath ghosting along the shell of your ear. The heat of him was suffocating, and then— “Yeah? What’s a pathetic little slut like you gonna do about it?”

A sharp gasp left your lips, the crude words sending a jolt through your body. Your thighs pressed together involuntarily, seeking friction, seeking anything, and Riki noticed immediately. His gaze flickered downward, catching the desperate movement, and his large hand landed firmly on the curve of your thigh. His fingers dug in, gripping.

You whimpered at the degradation, your body betraying you, heat pooling in your core. Riki chuckled at the sound, at how easily you crumbled under his touch. He shifted, his lips dragging along the curve of your neck, leaving teasing, feather-light kisses that had you trembling. You squirmed, another weak attempt at pulling away, but it only made him tighten his grip.

His hand moved to your face, his fingers tracing the shape of your cheek with deceptive gentleness. And then, without warning, he tilted your chin up and crashed his lips against yours, rough and eager. The force of it stole the air from your lungs, and when his hand came down on your thigh in a sharp slap, you gasped, giving him the perfect opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth.

The sounds that filled the space between you—breathless whimpers, the slick slide of lips, the faint rustle of sheets—only added to your growing desperation. When you finally managed to push him back, a thin string of saliva connected your lips, and your chest heaved as you stared up at him, pupils blown wide with need.

Riki watched, eyes dark, unreadable. Then, slowly, a wicked grin spread across his lips. “Pathetic,” he mused, his voice dripping with satisfaction. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when you were so wet for him.

He let go of your wrist, and your arm dropped limply above your head, the skin flushed where his fingers had gripped you too tightly.

Riki leans back against the headboard, his long legs stretching out effortlessly. He watches you with hooded eyes, dark and hungry, his fingers tapping against his thigh—a silent command.

Without hesitation, you crawl toward him, the sharp edges of your collarbones shifting beneath your skin with every movement. His sheer size overshadowed you, his frame broad and solid against the plush bedding, while your own body feels weightless in comparison.

His hands are on you the moment you settle onto his lap, large and warm as they trace the ridges of your ribs beneath your oversize shirt. He moves slowly, deliberately, lifting the fabric over your head.

His breath hitches as he takes you in—your delicate frame, the lace bralette barely concealing your small, perky breasts, the hollow space between your thighs as you straddle him. His fingers ghost over the jut of your hip bones, circling them like he’s mapping out something precious, something his.

“Stop being mean,” you moaned softly, barely above a whisper, hoping—praying—he would take pity on you. But Riki thrived on this—on control, on watching you struggle against the inevitable.

“You really don’t get it, do you,” he murmurs, voice thick with something possessive. His hands slide lower, gripping your waist with ease, thumbs pressing into your skin like he’s testing how much you can take.

“I could do whatever I want to you right now,” he said, almost to himself. His voice was flat, but there was something predatory beneath it, like he was marveling at how easily you crumbled. “And you couldn’t stop me if you tried.”

You whimpered—half in fear, half in want. You grind your hips instinctively, knowing what he wants before he even has to say it.

His touch is rough but reverent as he strips away your shorts, leaving you in nothing but lace and vulnerability. He takes his time, gaze dragging over every inch of you, savoring the way you look beneath him—fragile, breakable. His expression darkens.

Wordlessly your fingers find the hem of his shirt. You’re barely able to pull it over his head before he discards it entirely, revealing a body carved from sheer strength. Your smaller hands press against his abdomen, tracing the hard lines of muscle, feeling the power beneath his skin.

His hands tighten around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You feel the hard press of him through his sweats, a sharp contrast to your softness. His lips brush against your ear, voice dripping with control.

“You’re so delicate,” he breathes, rolling his hips up just enough to make you shudder. “So easy to ruin.”

A whimper escapes you, and he chuckles—low, deep, indulgent. His fingers tilt your chin up, forcing your gaze to meet his. His thumb presses against your lips before trailing down, tracing the column of your throat, pressing lightly against your pulse.

“You want me to wreck you, don’t you?”

Your breath hitches, and he smirks, already knowing the answer. His smirk deepens as he watches you struggle to speak, your lips parting, breath shaky. His thumb lingers at the base of your throat, pressing just enough to remind you of the difference in your sizes—the way his hand alone could encircle your fragile neck with ease.

“Use your mouth,” he murmurs, his voice a dark velvet command.

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of his gaze, the way he drinks in every little reaction from you—the way your ribs shift with each uneven breath, the way your thighs tremble despite barely moving. Your fingers curl against his stomach, gripping onto anything solid as you force yourself to answer.

“Yes, Riki. Want you to… ruin me.” you whisper, your voice small, a stark contrast to the overwhelming presence of him.

“Good girl.” The praise is low, rough, laced with something dangerous. There was no warmth in the way he looked at you. Only possession. He shifted, dragging his sweats down just enough to free his hard on. You froze. The size of him—it was almost intimidating.

You swallowed hard, already aching from how full you knew you were about to be. He grabbed your hand, wrapped it around his cock. Made you feel how hard he was. How ready. He didn’t ask if you wanted it. You already said enough.

His grip tightens at your waist, the muscles in his arms flexing as he lifts you effortlessly, positioning you exactly where he wants you—like you weigh nothing at all. He’s toying with you, rubbing himself across your socked folds. He enjoyed the contrast, the way your tiny frame fits so perfectly against him.

His free hand trails down your back, fingers tracing the delicate bumps of your spine before gripping onto your hip, pressing his thumb into the sharp dip. He tilts his head, studying you like he’s figuring out just how much you can take.

His hands move lower, gripping the backs of your thighs, spreading them wider as he keeps you balanced in his lap. He lets out a low chuckle as he glances down at the space between them, his gaze flicking back up to yours with amusement.

“This little gap between your thighs…” he muses, running his fingers along the inside of your leg, barely touching, teasing. “So small… how are you supposed to take me, hm?”

You whimper, pressing closer, wordlessly begging for more. His fingers dig into your skin in response, a silent warning.

“Patience.” The word is firm, dripping with authority.

His other hand slides up your side, thumb grazing the faint outline of your ribs. His gaze darkens. “I can feel every inch of you.” He leans in, lips grazing over the thin skin just beneath your jaw, a barely-there kiss before he bites down, enough to make you gasp. “So breakable.”

Your fingers tighten around his shoulders, nails sinking into his skin, desperate for something to ground you. He’s all around you—his voice in your ears, his hands on your body, his heat sinking into your bones.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs, each word a slow, deliberate promise. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

His words settle deep into your bones, a dark promise wrapped in velvet. Riki takes his time, reveling in the contrast—his sheer size against your fragile form, the way your thin body fits so easily in his grasp.

His dark eyes trace over you, drinking in the sight of your sharp collarbones, the delicate outline of your ribs, the soft expanse of your stomach. His lips curl into something possessive, something dangerous.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice thick with hunger. His thumb trails down your sternum, pressing lightly against the hollow between your ribs. “So tiny… like you were made to be handled like this.”

A whimper escapes you, your body trembling slightly under his touch. You know he feels it—feels how easily he could control you, how effortlessly he could shape you to his will. His grip tightens in response, and he smirks.

“You like it, don’t you?” His voice is low, teasing, his hands guiding you down until the heat of him presses flush against you, sending a shiver up your spine. He doesn’t move any further, just holds you there, watching, waiting.

You let out a desperate little noise, shifting slightly, but he doesn’t budge. His fingers flex against your hips, keeping you still. “Say it,” he commands.

“I—I like it,” you breathe, barely above a whisper. His smirk deepens. “You like feeling small? Like knowing I can do whatever I want with you?” Your head nods instinctively, but it’s not enough. His hand is on your jaw in an instant, tilting your chin up so your eyes meet his. His fingers press in just enough to part your lips.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes,” you whimper. “I love it.”

A satisfied growl rumbles in his chest. “That’s my girl.”

And then he moves.

His hands guide you down, inch by inch, stretching you out, making you take every part of him. A broken moan slips from your lips, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body struggles to adjust. The sheer size of him against your delicate frame makes your breath hitch, makes your mind blur with the overwhelming sensation of being completely filled.

His head falls back against the headboard, a low groan escaping him as he watches you struggle to take all of him, your tiny body trembling against his. His hand moves to your stomach, pressing down slightly, feeling the way he stretches you from the inside. His dark eyes flicker with something primal.

“Look at that,” he murmurs, almost in awe. “So small, yet you’re taking me so well.”

You can’t think, can’t breathe—all you can do is feel him, everywhere, inside and out. Your hands clutch onto him for support, your head falling forward against his shoulder as he finally starts to move, slow at first, savoring the way your body reacts to him.

The pace doesn’t stay gentle for long. Riki’s control snaps as he grips your hips and starts pulling you down harder, faster, setting a brutal rhythm that has you gasping for air. His lips are everywhere—brushing over your throat, your collarbones, your shoulders—biting, marking, claiming. Each thrust sends a shockwave through your body, his strength overwhelming, consuming.

“You feel that?” he growls against your ear, his hand pressing against your stomach again. “I’m so deep inside you… I can see the way you stretch around me.”

Your vision blurs, pleasure and pain mixing into something intoxicating. Your body feels weightless, completely at his mercy, lost in the feeling of being utterly dominated.

“You’re mine,” Riki breathes, his voice rough with possession. His fingers grip your chin, forcing your dazed eyes to meet his. “Say it.”

“Y-Yours,” you gasp, barely able to form words. Eyes rolling into your skull, mouth hung open.

A dark smile plays on his lips. “That’s right, baby.” His pace quickens, sending you spiraling, your body breaking apart beneath his hands. “And I’m never letting you go.”

Your breath comes in sharp moans, body trembling as his fucks himself ruthlessly into you. Riki doesn’t slow, doesn’t ease up—his grip stays firm, controlling every movement, every reaction, molding you to his will.

His hands, large and warm, slide down your back, pressing against the delicate ridges of your spine, keeping you flush against him. The heat between your bodies is overwhelming, a stark contrast between his strength and your fragility. His lips ghost over your jaw, brushing against your ear as he speaks, voice rough with control.

“You feel that?” he murmurs, his fingers pressing lightly into your stomach. “Feel how deep I am?” You were full—stuffed to the edge of what you could handle.

Your body shudders, head tilting back as your hands grasp at his shoulders, seeking any form of stability. His grip tightens.

“Look at me,” he commands.

It takes effort, but you meet his gaze—dark, hungry, filled with something possessive. His thumb drags along your cheek, his touch deceptively gentle as he watches you struggle against the overwhelming sensation of him.

“So small,” he muses, almost to himself. His hand slides back to your waist, fingers spreading wide, nearly spanning the entirety of your narrow frame. “Yet you take everything I give you.”

He thrust up into you with sharp, brutal rhythm. Each movement knocked the air from your lungs, sent sparks through your spine. His hands guided your body like you were nothing more than a doll—something soft and weak and pliable in his grip. He watches you with dark amusement, watches the salty tears falling down your face.

Riki doesn’t stop—he keeps you right where he wants you, controlling every movement, every sound that leaves your lips. His strength is overwhelming, his presence all-consuming. The way he holds you, the way he moves, it’s like he’s claiming you over and over again, leaving no part of you untouched, no space between you unfilled.

Your body trembles, struggling to keep up with the pace he sets, but he keeps you steady, his grip firm, unrelenting. His fingers press into your hips, guiding you effortlessly, making sure you take every bit of him.

“To fucked out, baby?” His voice is thick with something dark, something possessive, as he presses a hand to your stomach again, feeling the way your body stretches around him. “To full to even think huh.”

Your head tilts back, eyes fluttering shut as the tension coils tighter and tighter inside you. His breath is hot against your skin, his lips tracing the slope of your neck, biting, marking, making sure you’ll feel him even when he’s not there.

“Look at me,” he commands again, his tone leaving no room for disobedience.

Somehow, you manage to lift your head, your dazed eyes meeting his. His gaze is molten, burning with something intense, something primal. His hands slide up your sides, thumbs tracing the delicate lines of your ribs before gripping your waist again.

“You’re mine,” he growls, his voice low and rough, his movements growing sharper, more desperate.

Your body is already teetering on the edge, every nerve alight, every part of you wound tight and ready to snap.

“I-I’m yours, Riki.”

And that’s all it takes.

A deep, satisfied groan rumbles in his chest as he finally lets go, filling you up to the brim. his grip on you tightening as he pulls you against him, holding you there as waves of pleasure crash over you both. Your body trembles in his arms, your mind blank, lost in the feeling of being completely his.

Riki keeps you close, his breathing heavy, his hands trailing soothing circles against your back as you come down from the high. Your small frame is limp against him, exhausted, spent. His lips press gently against your temple, a stark contrast to the dominance he held moments ago.

“You did so good for me,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, laced with something almost tender.

Your eyes flutter shut, your body sinking into his warmth, completely safe despite the intensity of what just happened. His arms tighten around you, pulling you closer, as if he has no intention of letting you go—not now, not ever.

And as sleep pulls you under, the last thing you hear is his voice, a quiet promise against your skin.

“You’re mine.”

heyyy hope you enjoyed! my requests are open and i’m officially back! i just forgot my password sorryyy

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