#I feel like it would be too rough with over the shoulder ones
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Mind of Mine // i just want to watch you take it off - joel miller
Joel Miller x female! reader
read on AO3 here.
summary; "You got 'nother one, sugar?"
Joel knows exactly how to get you wetter than ever. or this is the work you get when the author listens to the song 'TiO' off of the album 'Mind Of Mine' on repeat. for five hours.
warnings; smut (MDNI); unprotected p in v; oral (f receiving); mostly soft!joel; actually all soft!joel, so much praise
word count; 1.3k (it's my first joel fic, ok?)
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You’re swaying to the music while Joel’s behind you, cooking as always.
He usually ignores you – not because you’re necessarily a distraction – but instead, because giving you the attention you crave doesn’t end well. For either of you. Last time he gave you attention, your wrists were secured to the headboard as he fucked your brains out, giving you too many orgasms to count and forgetting about the food.
Oops.
You live to be a tease, though.
It excites you too much to stop.
Mainly because it lets him plan how he’s going to punish you. Or praise you.
Whichever he’s in the mood for.
Based on his current mood – which is subject to change – he’s most definitely going to praise you.
And after the day you’ve had, it’s definitely what you need. Working for a publishing house can be stressful. And today was one of those days.
Good thing Joel loves to make you feel light – weightless, actually.
Not to mention how safe you feel. And when you feel safe, the softer side comes out.
Like all relationships, you just need to feel safe to show it.
“Darlin’,” his rough, Southern drawl interrupts your music, and you turn it off.
“Yes?” you ask, teasingly. Trying to rile him up.
But you never succeed. He knows you too well for that.
Turning away and holding a hand out, he murmurs a simple, “C’mere.”
So, you take it, letting him drag you and lift you up – right into his arms. Bridal style, of course.
You groan as your thighs clench, trying to hide your soaked cunt.
“Poor baby,” he murmurs, kissing your forehead.
“Fuck off,” you mutter while he carries you to the bedroom. Since he insists, he needs his fill of you before he can think about anything else – or dessert, as he likes to call it.
He kicks the door open and lays you down, playing with the hem of your skirt.
Your hips buck into his touch. He’s teasing you – you realize.
“Joel,” you moan as he hooks his fingers into your waistband, pulling your skirt down, and revealing the soaked black lace covering your cunt.
He pulls the lace aside, running his fingers against your swollen pussy, and he groans deep in his throat. “You’re fuckin’ soaked, pretty girl.”
Your brain goes blank as his index and middle finger both sink inside you, curling towards your g-spot.
“Fuck, sir.”
“N’ne of that sir shit tonight, baby.” He grabs your ankles, placing them on his shoulders as he sinks to his knees and licks a stripe up to your swollen - and aching - clit.
Your head falls back as your eyes roll into the back out your head. “Fuckk.”
You’re so close. If he would just curl his fingers against your g-spot just one more time, you’d be there.
He lets out a gruff chuckle that reverberates though your body as his other hand finds you shirt, pushing it up to find your nipple, pinching it.
That sends you over the edge. “Fuck, Joel,” you moan as the orgasm hits, crashing you into waves with each one more intense than the one before it.
His tongue doesn’t stop lapping at your clit even as you try to buck him off. “I can’t. I can’t- “
He cuts you off before you can repeat it again, “You can and will give me ‘nother one, sweetheart.”
“Fuck,” you groan as he pulls his fingers out, thrusting them back in while your back arches.
In. Out. In. Out. Your fingers curl into the sheets.
His fingers thrust faster as your thighs start to wrap around his head, trying to keep him there.
The second orgasm is faster than the first. You let out a silent scream as the waves rush into you for the second time in less than ten minutes.
“Good – fuck – good fuckin’ girl,” he groans, his tongue still swirling around your clit as the waves subside.
The strength from earlier leaves you almost immediately, making your legs fall. You’re boneless, but you also know he fucks you regardless of just how boneless you feel.
“You got ‘nother one for me, sugar?”
He slowly pulls his fingers out of you and brings them up to your mouth, “Taste yourself.”
You happily oblige, opening your mouth to take his fingers and tasting your cum mixed with his skin in a fucked up symphony.
His groan reverberates off the walls as you suck on his fingers – the same way you always have his cock. That’s when he starts to pull your panties down your legs, giving him better access.
Since that’s what this is all about, of course. And better access usually means better orgasms.
Speak of the devil – that shit must hurt. He looks painfully hard.
He interrupts your staring. “You like what you see?”
You slowly start to nod, but he slowly pulls his hand away, fingers leaving with a pop.
He leans down towards you, as you lean up and play with the hem of his shirt before you decide to pull it off.
Next is his belt as you hurry and rip it off, trying to get to his jeans.
“Woah,” he lets out a low chuckle, “’u’re a feisty one tonight, aren’t ya, beautiful?”
“No,” you whine as he starts to stop your frantic hands. “Just need you,”
“Where ya need me?”
“You know where,” you sass with everything you can muster.
“Need to hear ya say it, baby.”
“Fuck,” you moan as his jeans lightly graze your cunt. “Need you in me – fuck – now.”
“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters, pulling his jeans and boxers down – as fast as he can. “’U’re g’nna be the death of me, pretty girl.”
“I – fuck –“ His thrust cuts you off as he bottoms out. “I live to please.”
“So I can tell,” is the hiss you get back while he waits for you to adjust.
“Move already,” you whine before you can stop yourself. “Break me for all I – fuck –care.”
He slowly finds the pace you’re accustomed to – hard and fast.
“Look at ‘cha. You’re takin’ me so well.”
Your cunt clenches around him as he continues. “Aw, does my good girl need to be reminded of how good she feels?”
“You-“ you start, “you keep doing that and I’ll finish faster than I ever have.”
“Good girl,” he purrs. “Is that a promise?”
“B-better be,” you stutter as his thumb finds your clit. Again.
“Fuck.” Your head falls back again. Everything is sensitive.
You’re not even expecting the orgasm when it washes over you.
“Good – fuck. You’re such a good girl f’r me, sugar,” he praises, not taking his thumb away.
“Fuck.” It’s somewhere between a moan and groan. “Fuck, everything’s so sensitive.” Now that’s definitely a groan.
He ignores you, continuing his praise. “Fuck. Good girl. God, Good fuckin’ girl.”
You softly whine as he slowly speeds his pace up, trying to find his own orgasm.
After more futile moans, whimpers, and whatever else he can pull out of you.
“Fuck, you’re g’nna make me cum so fuckin’ fast, pretty girl. Goddamn-“ And that’s when you feel his orgasm crash into him – violent and unforgiving.
The orgasm lasts so long that neither one of you can keep up with how much time has passed. It isn’t until he flips you two over, so you’re on top and he’s not crushing you, that you know it’s done.
“Fuck,” you softly laugh, pressing your ear to his chest and listening to his heartbeat as he holds you tightly. You kiss his chest while he hums.
“Poor baby,” he murmurs kissing your forehead, “u’re all fucked out, aren’t ya?”
“Maybe,” you tease while he gives you a look.
“Don’t lie to me, sweetheart.”
Eventually, after Joel made sure you were okay in every aspect, you two make your way back into the kitchen, attempting to get your appetite back after all that.
You’re standing behind him with your head laying on his back when you murmur, “I love you forever and always, baby.”
You can hear the soft smile in his voice when he says, “I love you more than anything else, darlin’.”
#joel miller smut#joel miller#ao3 fanfic#smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x f!reader#dom!joel miller#praise k!nk#reader insert#soft!joel miller#inspired by a song
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No thought, head empty. Just daydreaming about coming home after a long day and getting face-down ass-up railed by Spencer because he knows you’re at your happiest getting your guts rearranged and your brain turned to mush.
*Sigh* this is what reading American Jesus does to a mofo… Think you straight up altered my brain chemistry with that one. If you wrote something for my little daydream I might actually pass away.
🙏 i will forever write spencer as a pleasure dom, that man would do anything to make sure you feel good, and he's so good at knowing what you need, when you need it.
i hope this satiates your little fantasy <3 thank you for the love on american jesus.
cw; +18 minors dni, fingering, pleasure dom!spencer, eating it from the back, taking it from the back, semi-rough spencer, unprotected p in v, aftercare
You’re exhausted. You drag yourself home after what feels like an eternity since you last saw the sun, the weight of your bag pulling on your shoulder as you slump against the wall and wait for the elevator.
It takes forever to arrive. You stare at the numbers as they flicker up the board and sigh. It’s not that you’ve never felt this tired before, but tonight it’s more than your body feels tired, it’s your mind.
You step into the elevator when the doors finally slide open and lean against the back wall. You let your eyes fall closed for a moment, letting out a soft sigh when you feel the cool air on your face, your skin. Your hand goes to the knot on your tie and you yank it loose, pulling it from around your neck and stuffing it in your pocket.
The elevator jolts to a stop and you step out into the corridor, running a hand through your hair when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror at the end of the hall. You look tired. Your eyes are sunken, the bags underneath making your eyes look darker and bigger.
You start down the hall, coming to a stop outside your door. You’re distracted, staring at the floor as you fumble with your keys and you don’t notice when the door opens, not until Spencer steps out and you nearly run into him.
“Hey, baby,” he says. “Long day?”
He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead. You melt against him, sighing happily when you feel his hand slide up to cradle the back of your neck. His grip tightens a little when you moan into his kiss, tilting your head and pressing closer to him.
He pulls away for a moment, studying you. You smile weakly up at him and he frowns. “Did you eat?” he asks, his brow furrowed. “You look exhausted.”
“Yeah,” you say, running your hands up his chest and wrapping your arms around his neck. “I ate at the office.”
He eyes you for a moment, and you know he doesn’t believe you. But he doesn’t press the issue. You’re so tired that you don’t even care when his hands move from your waist to grip your ass. “Bed, then,” he says.
He tugs you forward, kissing you again as he steps into the apartment. You follow him, letting him guide you through the apartment and into the bedroom. He pulls you close to him, kissing your neck as you reach for your shirt.
You shiver, letting out a low moan when he bites at your skin. You press your hands flat against his chest, shoving him back against the bed. He grins up at you as you strip your shirt off and then his, kicking your shoes off as he does the same.
“Take the rest off,” he murmurs, tugging on your belt as he reaches for his own.
You unbuckle it and push your pants down to your thighs, stopping when Spencer grips your hips and turns you to face away from him. His fingers press into your skin, sliding down over the curve of your ass and slipping between your legs.
He presses a kiss to the small of your back, his breath hot against your skin as he lets out a soft groan. “I love you so much,” he murmurs against your skin. “You have no idea.”
You shiver, letting your head fall forward. “I love you, too,” you whisper.
He laughs. “I know,” he says, nipping at your hip. “I know you do.”
He pushes you forward and you go easily, your hands coming to rest on the bed as he pulls your pants the rest of the way off. He runs his hand over your ass, then slips between your legs again, spreading you open with his fingers.
“Spencer,” you murmur, rocking back against him.
His tongue is hot and wet on your skin when he drags it up your inner thigh, nipping at you and making you squirm.
He presses his thumb against your cunt and you cry out, shuddering when he finally slides it inside. Your hand flies out behind you and you grab his hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt.
“Spencer,” you plead. “Please.”
He kisses his way back up your thigh and you whimper when he stops, his breath hot on your hole. “Please,” you beg again, pushing back against him.
He growls softly and presses forward, his tongue dragging over your skin. You cry out again, your fingers tightening in his hair. “Spencer,” you say again. “Please. I’m begging you.”
He laughs softly and slides his thumb from your body. “Shh, baby,” he murmurs. “Don’t beg. You don’t have to beg, never have to do that with me. Gonna give you whatever you need.”
He pushes your legs open further, his breath hot on you as he presses inside. You arch up, crying out when he starts to fuck you with his tongue.
“Spencer,” you moan, pressing back against him. “Oh god, Spencer, I need you.”
“I know,” he murmurs against you, tongue slick against your wet folds, his voice vibrating through you and making your stomach clench.
You feel him pull away and you can’t help but push back again. He groans and then you’re being pushed forward. Your hands go to the bed and you feel Spencer’s hand curl around your hip.
“Fuck,” he grunts, yanking you back against him. You let out a cry of surprise when his cock slides into you with a small stretch, his fingers digging into your skin. He starts to move, pushing in deep before pulling out and slamming back in. “Fuck,” he pants again, his hand going to your back between your shoulder blades, pushing you down further, making you cry out when his angle changes.
His hips meet your ass with a soft smack every time, fingers dig into your skin and you can feel his nails bite into you. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growls, his hand moving to wrap around your throat. “Like this. Fucking yourself on my cock.”
You moan, pushing back to meet his thrusts. He lets out a sharp groan and then he’s shoving you face down on the bed, holding your wrists behind your back with one hand as he fucks you into the mattress.
“Spencer,” you cry out, arching up under him. “Oh fuck, Spencer.”
He growls and starts to fuck you harder, his thrusts becoming wilder and faster as he grinds into you. His hand slips between you and the bed, his fingers brushing over your clit.
“Spencer,” you sob. “I’m gonna cum.”
He lets out another sharp cry and then his mouth is at your ear. “Don’t you dare,” he growls.
You let out a frustrated noise, trying to pull away from his hand. He holds tighter and fucks you harder, grinding into you. “Spencer,” you whine, trying to writhe under him. “Please, please. I need to cum.”
“I said don't fucking cum,” his voice harsh in your ear.
“Spencer,” you scream, shoving back against him as he fucks you.
His hand slides back between your legs, his fingers circling around your clit. “Now,” he growls. “Cum for me, baby.”
You let out a loud scream, your body shaking violently as you come. You can’t hold yourself up anymore, collapsing face down on the bed. But Spencer doesn’t stop, he doesn’t slow. He keeps fucking you, grinding into you until you feel him shudder over you.
You moan, turning your head to look at him as he comes. His lips parted, eyes scrunched shut as he rocks into you.
He falls forward, pressing his weight into you. You gasp, but it’s not uncomfortable. It feels good. He kisses your cheek and then pulls away, flopping down beside you.
You turn to look at him, reaching up to touch his face. “I love you,” you say softly.
You’re still on top of him when he wakes you a few minutes later, gently rolling you over to your back and then sliding off the bed.
You blink your eyes open, watching as he disappears into the bathroom. You’re about to close your eyes and drift back to sleep when you hear him say, “Cmere, baby.”
You blink your eyes up again and look towards the bathroom. Spencer is standing in the doorway, a warm washcloth in his hands.
“Here,” he says again.
You get up, stumbling a bit on weak legs as you make your way to the bathroom. He takes your arm when you get closer, pulling you into the bathroom and then pushing you down to sit on the toilet. He kneels in front of you, gently pushing your legs open.
You close your eyes as he presses the warm cloth to you, biting your lip softly. “That feels nice,” you murmur.
Spencer hums, his hands soft as he cleans you. He’s so gentle and caring when it comes to you. He’s not a dominant person in most of your day-to-day life, but when he does get like that, you always know it’s because you need it.
He’s so good at reading you, at knowing how you need to be touched and taken care of. You’re always so happy and content when he’s like this, because you know that he’s giving you what you need in this moment.
He starts to clean his own body, but you reach out and stop him. “Let me,” you say, smiling softly as you pull the washcloth from him.
He smiles back and leans forward a little as he lets you wash him. Your fingers move across his body, running up his thighs to his cock. It’s soft and sated, but you still press your lips to it as you drag the cloth over him. Spencer lets out a soft hum and his fingers slide through your hair.
“Thank you,” he says as you finish up.
You smile and lean forward, pressing a kiss to his mouth. “I love taking care of you,” you say. “Especially after you treat me so well.”
He laughs and leans in, kissing you again. “I love that about you,” he says. “I love everything about you.”
You smile and kiss him again. “Come back to bed,” you say, climbing to your feet and then holding your hand out to him.
He takes it and stands, pulling you to him for one last kiss. “Of course,” he murmurs.
#missarchive#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds x reader#bau x reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds
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𝐒𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 + 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐜 𐙚🧸ྀི
ft. No eul (guard 11) + Se mi (player 380) separately
warnings: suggestive themes but overall fluff
author's notes: thank you guys for the support!! I'm not even a good writer, but I'm glad you guys enjoy my work ♡
𝐍𝐨 𝐞𝐮𝐥 ִֶָ࣪☾.
{Sfw}
𐙚 No eul was hesitant to date you at first, not that there was anything wrong with you specifically. She just didn't want to disappoint you as she has trouble expressing herself. But you reassured her that it was ok to open up to you. It took a while but she eventually did and you two couldn't be happier.
𐙚 You guys obviously met at the amusement park that she used worked at duh. At the time you worked as a kinder garden teacher , bringing the kids to watch the parade. You had lost one of the kids and No eul had found him for you, he was a crying mess but safe nonetheless. Wanting to repay her you suggested to take her out to lunch the next day. She refused at first but soon agreed after you kept on insisting.
𐙚 No eul is pretty protective over you, not that you need it but she feels content on keeping you by her side. Always looking out for you ,if any creepy guy tried flirting with you she'd give them a stern glare and tell them to f off. If they still persisted, que No eul dragging his ass to a dark alleyway to beat him up.
" You didn't have to go that far," you say as you frantically looked around to see if there were any witnesses. "I know , but he deserved it," she simply stated while she headed towards the direction of your shared apartment to blow off some steam.
𐙚 pda isn't really her thing unless she's really pissed at someone flirting with you that she loses her cool and would dead ass look the person in the eyes while kissing you. Other than that she likes holding your hand and giving you small pecks on your cheek/forehead throughout the day.
𐙚 Dating spots/ideas: libraries, your apartment rooftop, cute cafes or sometimes you guys would travel to the countryside.
{Nsfw}
𐙚 oh boy, she's rough and assertive during intimacy. This is mostly due to her personality but she also likes your cute reactions whenever she goes down at you. She's open to anything as long as your OK with it. Lots of bandage and maybe gunplay if she has one. But if you just wanted to go slow and gentle then she will do so.
𝐒𝐞 𝐦𝐢 メ𝟶メ𝟶
{Sfw}
𐙚 Let's be honest , you fell for her first, but she fell for you harder. Se mi's the one who asked you out first cause she found you cute and endearing, something that she's needs in her dull life.
𐙚 A group of gangsters who tried stealing from you which Se mi had noticed when she went by with her motorbike (yes she owns one its canon yall). She stepped in to save you and they ended up in a dumpster. That day was the day you felt a small spark between you both and Se mi felt it too.
𐙚 Omg you guys would definitely go to the nearest animal shelter and adopt a black female kitty. Her name would be Noir cause why not, also she reminds you so much of Se mi. The way the both act and look so similar baffled you but you didn't complain.
𐙚 Se mi would occasionally bring you bouquets of your favourite flowers and would gift you small presents/trinkets that remind her of you. One time she bought you her perfume that she wears so you would smell of her while she was away. Or you'd just steal her clothes (she smells of cherries/smoke).
𐙚 Big fan of pda, she'd have her hands all over you. Whether it was holding your waist/hand or resting her arm over your shoulder, bringing you into her chest. Totally would be smug about it whenever she'd see how flustered you were. If you didn't like pda then she would respect your opinion and stick with just holding your hand.
Dating spots/ideas: motorbike rides. I repeat motorbike ridess. Y'all would deffo be freaky on the bike but you didn't hear that from me. Beach dates, music festivals/concerts, funfairs and rides around the city. If Se mi wasn't broke then she'd take you to fancy restaurants, because you deserve all her love.
{Nsfw}
𐙚 Lordd, she's amazing in bed. Literally knows how to make you come undone with just her tongue and fingers. Would definitely lock eyes with you the whole time she's eating you out. She'd make you have eye contact with hers the whole time otherwise she won't let you cum. Has all sorts of toys to test on you and a special black dildo just for you. Shes never really gotten to this point with other partners so consider yourself lucky. Omg the piercing would just turn you on even more like hello?? She'd use it to her advantage.
"You slut, look at me not the ceiling" she'd drawled, making you whine and forced yourself to look back down at her. She had that damn smirk on her lips while she trusted her fingers into you hitting the right spot , making you squirt all over her face.
Ps. Let me if you guys want more hc's and send more requests if you like my work <3 also like, reblog or follow if you like my content ♡
#squid game#se mi x reader#no eul x reader#squid game season 2#player 380 x reader#squid game fanfic#squid game x reader#ang3ltine
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「 ✦ pinks and neons ✦ 」
Jinx x ballerina!reader / modern AU
─── ballerina masterlist ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ // second position
summary: Your friendship was a delicate balance, like a tightrope stretched between two distant worlds. One night, Jinx led you away from the soft glow of your studio and into the neon chaos of her underground. But a hand lingered too close, a grin cut too sharp—and her storm broke loose. In the quiet aftermath, something between you began to shift.
contents: modern AU, opposites attract, harassment
author's note: posting two days in a row? diva.
Jinx still didn’t know how it happened—how someone like you, with your soft eyes and even softer voice, had become part of her world.
But it started with quiet evenings in the studio, watching you twirl and leap with a precision that made her mind spin. She would sit cross-legged on the scuffed wooden floor, doodling nonsense in her notebook, stealing glances at you as if afraid to blink and miss something, occasionally tossing out commentary that made you groan and smile in equal measure. You, in turn, would sit beside her as she tinkered with gadgets, your steady presence anchoring her in a way nothing else ever had.
You found yourself lingering after practice, not just because Jinx made you laugh, but because she made you feel—alive, seen. Somehow, the girl with the blue hair and reckless grin was both a storm and a shelter all at once.
You had learned to laugh more, to let yourself be carried by the unpredictable current of her energy. Jinx, in turn, softened her sharp edges for you, learning how to sit still, to listen, to care. You were still opposites, but in the way day and night needed each other or how silence made music more profound. You weren’t something yet, not exactly, but you were more than nothing—there was something blooming there, something unspoken but undeniable.
The city breathed in rhythms you were only beginning to share. Somewhere, between pristine ballet studios and street corners sprayed in neon, your lives had started to intertwine.
And so, nights in the studio gave way to walks along the city’s edges, where she would point out graffiti tags like old friends, and you would listen, laughing at the outrageous stories behind each one.
But tonight was different.
“Alright, ballerina,” Jinx announced, her voice crackling with excitement and swinging an arm over your shoulders as you stepped off the subway. “I’ve been playing nice in your world long enough. Tonight, you’re coming to mine.”
And tonight your worlds collided at an underground party.
Deep in the industrial district, tucked inside a forgotten warehouse, brought to life with neon lights and the pounding rhythm of heavy-bass music. It was a riot of color and sound—Jinx’s natural habitat. You, however, stood near the edge of the chaos, wide-eyed and out of place.
“Are you sure about this?” you asked hesitantly.
“Relax, you’ll be with me,” she reassured with a wink. “C’mon, live a little!”
She led you inside, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. You passed dancers, graffiti artists tagging the walls, and a makeshift bar. You tried to ignore the eyes that lingered on you—a soft, pink-dressed figure standing out in this world of spikes and leather. You stayed close to Jinx, who didn’t seem to notice or care about the stares as she grabbed a couple of sodas, handing one to you.
“See? Easy. Just stick with me, and you’ll have fun,” she promised. “I’ll make sure no one bites.”
You took a sip, trying to focus on her energy rather than the overwhelming scene. The party was wild, unapologetic, just like Jinx—a far cry from the orderly beauty of the studio. And you, for all your nerves, wanted to trust her.
The music pounded, electric and deafening, a rhythm you couldn’t quite follow—too fast, too rough. She grinned as she pulled you toward the center of it all. “Dance with me!” she shouted over the noise.
“I don’t know how!” The statement was so foreign to you. You laughed, only half-protesting, but she just spun you in a clumsy circle, her energy infectious.
It wasn’t long before you began to relax, your body finding its own rhythm amidst the chaos. For a moment, you felt free, unbound by rules or technique, lost in Jinx’s world.
But then the spell broke.
A man approached from the crowd, his steps slow and deliberate. He was taller than the blue-haired girl, broader, of course, with a slimy grin that made your skin crawl.
“Hey,” he said, his voice heavy with the slur of alcohol. “You look a little lost, sweetheart. What’s someone like you doing here?”
You came to a halt and stiffened, slightly out of breath. “I’m fine. I’m just… here with a friend,” you managed, your voice soft but firm as you took a step back.
The man leaned closer, his grin widening, and it almost felt like a wolf was snarling right down at you. “A friend? Come on, doll. Let me show you around. This isn’t your kind of scene.”
He reached for your arm, but before you could respond, a figure slid between you like a blade—sharp, deliberate, and impossible to ignore.
Jinx.
Her grin was gone, replaced by a dangerous glint in her eyes.
“Touch her again,” she began, her voice low and cutting, infused with a subtle warning, “and you’re gonna wish you hadn’t.”
The man raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “What, you’re her bodyguard? What’s your problem?”
She smiled, but it wasn’t friendly. “My problem?” she echoed, cocking her head like she was genuinely thinking about it. Then she leaned in, her voice dropping to a stage whisper. “I don’t like people who don’t know how to take a hint. Makes me itchy. You don’t want to see me itchy.”
He straightened, frowning. “I was just talking to her.”
“Yeah? Well, now you’re talking to me,” she retorted, her grin all teeth. “Lucky you.”
There was something in her eyes—something wild and unhinged—that made him hesitate. His bravado faltered, but he tried to recover. “Look, I was—”
“No, no, I get it,” Jinx interrupted, nodding earnestly. “You see a pretty girl, you do the whole caveman thing. Real classic. But here’s the thing—” Her hand suddenly dropped to her side, where her fingers twitched like they were itching for a fight, wrapping around the neck of an empty bottle. “She’s not interested. And if I have to explain it again, I’m gonna get real creative.”
The man hesitated, clearly sizing her up, but her sharp confidence didn’t waver. When he finally muttered something about “crazy chicks” and stumbled off, she turned to you, her expression softening instantly.
“You okay?”
You nodded, though your hands trembled slightly. “I didn’t know what to say. He just—”
“You don’t have to explain,” she assured gently, her hands brushing your shoulders. “This was a bad idea. Let’s go.”
Without waiting for a reply, she laced her fingers with yours and pulled you toward the exit. You emerged into the cool night air, the noise of the party fading behind you. The sudden quiet was jarring, but it felt like a relief.
Jinx kept walking, unusually silent and unaware of the way she still held onto your hand. Or maybe she just liked it too much to let go yet, enjoying the feeling of your soft skin beneath her thumb as it brushed over your knuckles.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you here,” she eventually spoke up, her voice uncharacteristically vulnerable. “I thought it’d be fun, but I didn’t think about… well, that.”
“It’s okay,” you said, glancing up at her. “I wanted to see it. I wanted to see… you.”
Her steps faltered, her blue hair catching the glow of a distant streetlight. A flicker of something you didn’t quite recognize flashed in her eyes. “You don’t need to do that. You don’t have to dive into my mess just to understand me.”
You just smiled, soft and warm. “I want to.” The statement is simple—too simple even. But you had said it so naturally, with so much conviction, that she couldn’t bring herself to argue against it. “And… Thank you for defending me, by the way,” you added, quieter this time, more sheepish than usual.
She laughed, a low, breathy sound. “Yeah, well, somebody’s gotta keep you safe, ballerina.” Jinx wasn’t the hero in anyone’s story—far from it. But, much to her surprise, she wouldn’t think twice about being the biggest, fattest hero the world has ever seen for you.
You started walking again, your pace slower now, the city stretching out before you. Her world was chaos, yours was order, but in this moment, you were somewhere in between.
“Next time,” she began, “we’ll stick to your studio. Just you, me, and some boring classical music. Deal?”
You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Deal, powder keg.” It slipped out teasingly, a way to get her back for “twinkle toes”, but her reaction wasn’t quite what you expected.
Jinx froze for a fraction of a second, her breath catching in her throat. Powder. The name clawed its way out of her past, dragging memories she didn’t want to touch with it—volatile, destructive, dangerous. You glanced at her, your doe eyes holding concern at her sudden change of demeanor.
You thought you had said something wrong—and in a way, you did, though you didn’t know what. But before you could take it back, she just tugged you closer, swinging an arm around your shoulders, the movement so familiar you relaxed instantly.
“Come on, ballerina,” she simply said, steering you down the quiet street. She didn’t correct you, didn’t explain the weight behind the name you had just so casually given her. Instead, she let it sit there, unspoken but not unbearable. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as it should’ve—not when you said it. For once, the name didn’t feel like a weight on her shoulders. It felt… lighter, almost. “Let’s get you home.”
And somehow, tonight, the distance between your worlds felt smaller than ever.
—dedicated to my helpful softies .ᐟ.ᐟ
@jinxsbunny // @luckybunny555 & @ladey 𝜗𝜚˚⋆
#arcane#arcane netflix#arcane league of legends#arcane jinx#arcane jinx x female reader#arcane jinx x fem!reader#arcane jinx x reader#jinx#jinx arcane#jinx x f!reader#jinx x female reader#jinx x fem!reader#jinx x y/n#jinx x reader#jinx x you#jinx arcane x female reader#jinx arcane x fem!reader#jinx arcane x y/n#jinx arcane x you#jinx arcane x reader#jinx league of legends#jinx league of legends x reader#modern au#opposites attract#ballerina au#lesbian
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Dexter, Angel, Brian, and James with someone who has a baby face w/ a deep voice
head cannons, male reader, reader has high moans, brian is a freak, doaks is secretly a freak, being way too curious with someone, they don't realize it's cause they're turned on and have a thing for you, spanish speaking reader on angel, kinda based off me, reader can be shorter or taller i really don't care
— didn't expect that out of you, by any means. you were the person who had called him to the crime scene, and since he had never really met you, he didn't expect to see that you're the one behind the call.
"There any blood?"
He meant to speak to angel, yet you answered right behind him and scaring the hell out of him.
"It's over here." He caught himself looking around, that couldn't have come from you? Could it? You had the face someone would steal a lollipop from.
"Uh..yeah, lead the way." He was so fixated on your face. Big, doe eyes your pretty soft lips parting at every 'ah..' of understandment. His mouth went dry even looking at you, why hadn't he noticed you before?
— When the two of you got together, it was very clear he had a thing for your voice. Especially whilst having sex, and he surely didn't expect your moans to be so high? Guess something made up for that pretty face of yours.
— Each time he was inside, he loved the way low groans turned into such needy and whiny moans for him. It turned him on when you talked him through, slow sex had him crumbing to you.
"Fuck..Dexter.." He thrusted inside slowly, taking in every single 'yes' and 'so good' Dexter himself wasn't at all a quiet person in bed, grunting and groaning along with you letting your own voices mix. He was so damn lucky.
— Yeah, you creeped him the fuck out.
— He wasn't one to care on people's voices, but damn did you get surgery or something? He might have called you 'kid' or something if you didn't sound like death crawling from hell itself.
— He was told to go to you for some sort of files, finding you at your desk.
"You the one I'm looking for? I need those files." He couldn't lie, his heart almost melted at the way you looked up at him. Was his voice too rough? Did he hurt your feelings? Damn.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Holy fuck.. nevermind.
— He made a rule for you not to sneak up behind him and to randomly start speaking. Scared the shit out of him when you did that.
"Right, Morgan said the victim had put up a fight before she was hit in the head, and—"
"What happened?"
"Oh my God— never again! Never do that again."
"Hm? What did I do?"
— He weirdly liked your face. Well, the cheeks of your face. If you did something dumb you would feel his fingers harshly punch at the soft skin of them. It was cute, he wouldn't lie about that. Your face stretching out as you whined for him to let go. It made his day, it really did.
— Now sex on the other hand, he would never reveal that to anyone. He was a professional, but on his own he would think of it from time to time. The way you would moan out his name, making that voice of yours crumble just from slipping the tip inside of you. His head would be on your shoulder, his own voice soft and talking you through it. He did that on purpose, so his ear would be close to your mouth. He desperately needed to hear it.
(he's so glorious i love him.)
— Debra was having another situation in which a witness couldn't speak English well, or understand it too much and he had been busy with someone else. So they called you over instead.
"Entiendo señora, haremos lo mejor que podamos pero por favor debe calmarse." Damn. He got distracted, drowning out the voice of who he was supposed to be listening to. Watching your face go into a look of understanding as the woman in the front of you hyperventilated, your voice so deep yet so calming as you rubbed her back and soothed her the best you could.
— He loved when you spoke spanish, whether it be small curses, or exclaims of excitement. He loved it all. But when you were speaking to him, he went all still. He could admire your voice from afar, yet right in front of him? No, absolutely not.
"Morning Angel," He froze up, snapping out of it quickly so he could at least muster up something back. "Yeah.." Yeah. Yeah? Was that the best he could do, jesus..
— Never had he expected to get with you. Let alone be able to fuck you. He was nervous at first. What was he supposed to do? He knew what to do, but he didn't at the same time. It was mostly a matter of being nervous rather than you being the first guy he's done it with.
"This feel good?" Paying attention to every single sound or movement you made, looking at you as if you were the light of his life. Your little 'Mhm' as he held your body close, going inside slowly and letting his hands squeeze at your hips and waist, soothing them.
"Oh, Angel.." Your accent made him shiver, his eyes fluttering shut and rolling back the more he thrusted inside. "Perfect.." He muttered, kissing your skin softly. "So perfect."
— Overtime, he would develop a weird liking to your throat. Everytime you spoke, he'd pay attention to your Adams apple and watching it bob as you spoke. He just wanted to choke you.
— Though first hearing you, he didn't know whether or not to be surprised or turned on. He found you weirdly unique, obsessed with your voice and always gave you reasons to talk. He would learn about your interest, just to make you talk even more.
"Oh, and my favorite actor had played in this movie and I feel as if.." and blah, blah, blah..
"Mhm..yeah,"
— He was listening, he swore it! And if he wasn't listening he had gotten some sort of recorder, just so he make use of it later on.
His cock leaked the more he moved his hand up and down. Trying to force himself to be quiet enough so that he could hear your voice clearly.
"Fuck.." Imagining you riding him, moaning like you depended on riding him and like you absolutely needed him. Voice wavering to whimpers and high moans— hell, he needed that so badly.
— Next day, he'd face you like nothing happened. Greeting you with a smile as you walked through the station.
"Morning Rudy!"
"Morning.."
#bottom male reader#dexter x male reader#dexter morgan x reader#dexter x reader#dexter moser#dexter#bottom reader#brian moser x reader#brian moser#james doakes#doakes x reader#james doakes x reader#janes doakes x male reader#angel batista#angel batista x reader#angel batista x male reader#brian moser x male reader#brian moser x you
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fairy of shampoo — ryomen sukuna.
“No, I doubt that.” he murmured, his voice dropping further as his eyes trailed over you, taking in every detail of his creation on your body. “I didn’t outdo myself. You did. You made it come alive. Well, you always have.” He reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of the fabric near your shoulder, the touch light yet searing. “This was always meant for you. No one else could’ve worn it like this.” There was a beat of silence, heavy and charged, before he added, “Do you know how hard it was to sit out there and watch everyone look at you like that?” You raised a brow, your smile teasing now. “Jealous already, ‘kuna?”
GENRE: alternate universe - fashion world au!;
WARNING/S: afab! reader, love at first sight, co-workers to lovers, romance, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, rough sex, fingering, p to v sex, backstage/greenroom sex, orgasm, humor, pet names (angel, sweetie, etc), devotion, possessiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, fashion designer! ryomen sukuna, super model! reader;
WORD COUNT: 5k words.
NOTE: i wrote the first part of this while on instagram live and continued to write, but then i forgot to do a live about this again and passed out from more cold medicine. the cold weather isn't really helping my case either. but im feeling much better now!!! though, i kept changing titles too, cause im indecisive. but of course txt saves the day with fairy of shampoo.
i adore this song a lot. also, if you are curious, this was something i was imagining for a while as an au to concubine reader and sukuna. like in another live, he would be a former underground fighter who fell for model reader. in any case, i hope you enjoy it. i love you all!!! see you on the 10th!!!
masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
HE DOESN’T THINK HE’S EVER SEEN SOMEONE LIKE YOU BEFORE. He felt his breath hitch, the steady rhythm in his chest faltering as if the very air had thickened, demanding more effort to draw in.
The crowd was roaring around him, but the noise seemed muted, far away, like a distant wave crashing on an unseen shore. All he could focus on was you, the commanding force you carried with every step.
It wasn’t just the way you moved — it was the raw, magnetic energy emanating from you. Each step struck the floor like a declaration, a drumbeat echoing through the cavern of his mind, drowning out every other thought.
He tried to remind himself to blink, to exhale, to ground himself in something other than the overwhelming pull of you, but it was no use. When it comes to you, there was no winning.
When you reached the center of the stage, you turned slowly, your gaze sweeping over the audience like a stormfront rolling in. Then, for the briefest moment, your eyes landed on his.
He felt like a man struck by lightning. The fire in your gaze seared through him, sharp and unyielding, leaving no room for the walls he’d so carefully built. He was laid bare, every defense stripped away, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t mind.
As quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and you turned your attention elsewhere, leaving him in the wreckage of his composure. His heart was racing, pounding against his ribs like it was trying to escape, and he could only wonder how someone could hold so much power without even trying.
Control? Composure? He realized now how fragile those concepts truly were.
Everything about you screamed majesty. It was obvious you knew what you were doing and it was obvious that you were doing it with so much passion, so much pride, so much expertise. If it was not clear now, it would be obvious to all now that it was you who ran this world.
And you had no problem trying to show that to everyone. Everything about what you were doing could only exude wonder people cannot explain. Especially when you walked. Ryomen Sukuna knew this from the first time he saw you walk.
He could somehow remember the first time he’s seen you walk on a runway. He wasn’t yet the person he was at this time. Ryomen Sukuna remembers that he was a rough man, a brutish man. Someone whose hands were at one point made for destruction more than they were for anything relating to creation.
These hands were born for nothing good at all. These were born from nothing and then for violence. For most of his life, he was sure that they were made for nothing else but pouring blood on the concrete in rough fistful bouts than they were for wanting to understand the language of fabrics and colors.
Sukuna was all too certain that he wasn’t someone who he himself thought was even worthy of being in your presence then. You wouldn’t have liked the man he was then.
If he didn’t, then you would certainly not like him too. But he liked to think that this was the moment his life changed. He could remember it so very clearly, that moment.
He could recall it all, if you asked. Every little detail. His bloody hands fumbled with the remote control, the echo of his fingers pressing the buttons whiplashed as he tried to find something worth watching. Nothing was worth watching, nothing was worth looking forward to. One after another, the button pressed only to lead to disappointment.
Then, he stopped.
You were the first thing he saw. He blinked as he found himself staring at this moment. It was like you owned the runway. Your long silver stilettos click and clack across the steps,the fine texture of the shimmering silver dress blossomed like moonlight right in front of him. It was like an epiphany when he watched you come towards him through the screen.
Your bright blossoming eyes narrowed sharply as you stopped at the center, posing masterfully for the audiences and then for the cameras. He could feel the hairs on his body stand up as he walked closer to the screen. Almost a second after, you had smiled at the crowd.
For a moment, Ryomen Sukuna had thought that this belonged to him. Your smile, your gaze, your pose. He had felt like you had been longing for him. Calling for him to come and join you. Beckoning him closer by your side. Almost as though you were commanding him like the goddess of the moon you were in that moment.
He wished that moment had lasted much longer. But as you finished your moment, it was your turn to walk away. Disappointment slowly seeped into him as he watched you go, the train of your metallic silver gown flowing behind you like moonshine withdrawing from the slithering darkness.
You were so beautiful, so bright and gorgeous. For a moment, he didn’t even think you were real. He couldn’t believe that such a being like you could ever exist. He couldn’t believe that such a being like you could ever bless him with your wonders, even for just a moment. From that moment, he was awestruck.
But it’s not like Ryomen Sukuna could not help himself in wanting you. You were life itself for him from that moment. And he couldn’t help but live in the world you made. He could not help but want to know you. To know more of your wonder. To be there in the room where it happened, watching you command the world with each and every step only you could make.
One could call him insane for believing that this was the moment that changed his life. That you, who he had never known, would ever change his life. Yet, it was true. You had made him your most adoring servant.
And he had made you his master, his lifelong muse. He knew that he didn’t have any skills to dress you, his goddess, just yet. But if there was something Ryomen Sukuna knew, it was that everything can be learned. And you would guide him how.
He could recall how he stood up from his couch that night and washed his bloody hands on his sink. He cleaned every bit of it. By the time he finished, he found his hands clean enough. And with that he felt satisfied.
He dried his hands with the dry cloth, watching the bloody water drain down the sink. He knew that he had to have clean hands, for you. He can’t dress you if his hands are dirty with blood. He won’t soil you. No, he won’t soil his goddess.
The click of the cameras brought him back to reality. You stopped at the center of the runway and posed. You look at the side dramatically, your jaw sharp against the glow of stage lights. You had fun as you brushed the loose hair back on your ear, trying to showcase the fine sapphire earrings encrusted with diamonds.
People were in awe as you stood there, the leather covered fingers tracing your beautiful face as you showcased the fine red silky flow of the shimmering strapped dress bejeweled in fine rubies and sapphires and its majestic slit at the hem forcing your fine leg forward, the heel of your shoe just as magnificent with its intricate design.
Everything about it was a perfect fit — as it should. Ryomen Sukuna could only think to himself about how proud he was that it looked good on you. Red was certainly made to be your color. The color he had so loved, the color he knew you had come to love just as much when you looked into his scarlet eyes too.
Sukuna’s smirk deepened as he watched the crowd, their collective awe painting a smug satisfaction across his sharp features. They didn’t just see a veteran model on the catwalk; they saw his vision, his devotion, his muse brought to life. They saw life form before their eyes.
It wasn’t just about the clothing, no. It was about you, his precious muse. You carried his work like no one else could, not just wearing the piece but embodying it, giving it a presence that no other model could match. Every step you took whispered of elegance, screamed of confidence, and radiated the unshakable power he had designed into every stitch.
He leaned further back in his chair, one leg draped casually over the other, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against his arm. Sukuna’s mind flickered back to the nights spent creating the masterpiece you now wore. The hours he poured over sketches, fabrics, and details, all with you in mind. The fire in his chest when inspiration struck, always tied to the thought of you — your silhouette, your essence, your wonder.
It was a dangerous thing, he knew, to let himself feel this much for anyone. It was even more grievous when one thinks about how crazy he is, obsessed with you. But as he watched you claim the stage as though you owned it, as though you owned him, he couldn’t bring himself to care. If anyone deserved his best, it was you.
And now, seeing you carry with pride what he had envisioned, the culmination of his work, his smirk twisted into something softer, something almost reverent. His scarlet eyes could only glint with a mixture of pride and possessiveness.
Because this wasn’t just a fashion show, not to him. This was his world laid bare, his unspoken devotion stitched into fabric, and you, his muse, standing at the center of it all. And he could care less about anything else. This was what mattered. Nothing more will satisfy him than you.
Let them look. He thought, his scarlet gaze darkening further. Let them be captivated.
But they should know this — the vision, the brilliance, the art?
It was his. And so were you.
And you just as well knew it too.
He was yours too, after all.
The moment the show ended, Ryomen Sukuna slipped through the mass of the crowd, his stride purposeful as he made his way backstage. The buzz of the event, the voices, and the clinking of glasses faded into white noise as he navigated through assistants, models, and photographers.
They all parted instinctively for him — whether out of respect, fear, or both, he didn’t care. Why should he care at this moment? He had something else much more important in mind, after all. Nothing can compare to that, to you.
He found you standing alone, the chaos of the backstage swirling around but never touching you. You were a picture of composed beauty, your magnificent features illuminated by the soft backstage lighting. The masterpiece you wore still clung to you, the fabric shimmering as though it held its own light.
You didn’t notice him at first, too engrossed in adjusting one of the intricate details of the outfit, but the shift in the air told you he was there. You looked up, your tender gaze locking with his, and in that instant, the world seemed to narrow in this cage you had always made for just the two of you. Your lips perk up into a small sly smile.
Sukuna let the door swing shut behind him, the sound muffled by the hum of the outside world. The room felt smaller now, the space between you crackling with an intensity that mirrored the one you’d commanded onstage. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms casually, though the smirk on his lips betrayed the hunger in his gaze.
“Stunning, as always.” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “But then, you already know that.”
You tilted your head, meeting his smirk with a soft smile of your own. “The design does most of the work. You outdid yourself, Sukuna.”
His smirk deepened as he pushed off the wall, closing the distance between you in a few slow steps. You shake your head at him, your smile getting bigger too. He was about to have another one of his antics, for certain.
“No, I doubt that.” he murmured, his voice dropping further as his eyes trailed over you, taking in every detail of his creation on your body. “I didn’t outdo myself. You did. You made it come alive. Well, you always have.”
He reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of the fabric near your shoulder, the touch light yet searing. “This was always meant for you. No one else could’ve worn it like this.”
There was a beat of silence, heavy and charged, before he added, “Do you know how hard it was to sit out there and watch everyone look at you like that?”
You raised a brow, your smile teasing now. “Jealous already, ‘kuna?”
His chuckle was dark and low, the kind that sent shivers down your spine. “Jealous? Maybe. But more than that…” His hand slid from the fabric to your jaw, tilting your beautiful face up to his.
His scarlet eyes burned with something raw, something possessive. “I just wanted to remind you to come by and tell you, like I always do. All of this, the applause, the stares, the admiration... none of it matters. Because at the end of the day, you’re mine. No one else can have you but me.”
The air between you thickened, you could feel your pulse quickening as his blunt words hung in the space. His thumb brushed against your tender cheek, and soon enough, his face echoed a small smirk against his beautiful lips, one that you were certain was softer this time. But of course, you were just as certain that it wasn’t less intense.
“And don’t you dare forget it, hm?” he added, his voice barely above a whisper, before leaning in to close the distance between you.
“I will never forget.” You hummed back to him, just as sweetly. Just as venomous. “Just as you never forget that I am the only muse for you, hm?”
He laughs, the tone rich and eager as his eyes narrowed at you. “And when have I ever forgotten that, hm? Ten years of my life given to you so far, and you’ll have the rest of it too. You don’t have to worry about me leaving you.”
You couldn’t help but laugh aloud this time. “Hm, then you are my prisoner now.”
“I always have been….. I am always willing to be, sweetie.”
He grabbed your hand, his grip firm but not forceful, and guided you through the bustling backstage chaos. You followed without question, the dress flowing into the brush of wind as you made your place elsewhere. You could feel your heart racing as he weaved through the narrow halls with singular focus, while still holding onto you, no matter what.
He didn’t stop until the two of you reached your green room. With a swift glance to ensure no one had followed, he shut the door behind you, the lock clicking into place with a finality that made your breath hitch. You looked at him and then he looked back at you, almost as though time had frozen between the two of you.
The room was quieter here, dimly lit and far removed from the noise of the show. The faint hum of the loud music leaked through the walls, but it only added to the charged atmosphere between you. Ryomen Sukuna took a breath before starting to get closer to you, his intense scarlet gaze pinning you to the spot.
It was as though your throat had all but closed. You felt yourself standing there as he made his way to you and then stopped. The space between the two of you had all but evaporated into nothing. You pursed your lip into a line and then shook your head into a small smile.
His scarlet glint lingered, locking with your gaze, a mischievous gleam dancing within his eyes. Slowly, he lowered himself before you, hands deftly reaching for the ties that bound you to your heels. The heels he had designed just for you.
You knew you could do it yourself. But he refused to let you do it, even when he has to get to you later on, he would get some sort of way when he didn’t do it for you. For so long now, you have never been able to take your shoes off by yourself. He wouldn’t allow it.
After all, it was a ritual he insisted on. It was something he had done even when he was first designing clothes tailored just for you. And you had long stopped having any qualms about it.
Every time he did this for you, whether after the runaway or some time else, there was always this calm. It was always a quiet moment of devotion woven into the fabric of your bond each and every single time.
An angel like you shouldn’t have to stoop to something like this, sweetie. He had said back then, his lips curving into a playful smile as his attention remained on your feet. Only devils like me should kneel, taking on tasks as lowly as this.
Now, as his fingers worked to free you from the delicate binds, he couldn’t help but hum. You could feel his mumblings be rough and edged with something untamed and all at once, the warmest of spring days and tenderest of breaths. You obediently look upon him as he carefully removes them from your feet.
“You’ve been driving me insane all night, sweetie.” He set your shoes aside, tucking them where they wouldn’t catch another soul’s attention. His scarlet eyes roved up to yours, filled with longing. “Everything you do, even now... You just woo me to no end.”
You shivered under his gaze, feeling the intensity of his words wrap around you like a warm, intoxicating haze. His hands, calloused yet deliberate, brushed against your ankles as he adjusted your footing, ensuring you could stand without strain. Even in such a simple gesture, his care for you felt all-consuming.
“You have always imprisoned me, you know that? But tonight…..you really have mastered it.” he snickers, his tone dipping lower, velvet and gravel in equal measure.
“I have.” You muttered back at him, smiling at him as sweetly as you could. “Don’t you like it that way? Your muse gives you everything, artist of mine.”
“I did. I always do. I loved tonight most, I should say.” His lips curled into a smirk that sent a rush of heat through your chest. “Every glance, every move—it’s like you’ve cast some wicked spell. And here I am, completely at your mercy.”
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, his hands still lingering just a moment too long on your legs. The proximity was enough to make your heart race, yet he stopped short of closing the distance, his teasing nature keeping you on edge.
“And the worst part?” he added, his voice softening but losing none of its weight. “I don’t even mind. Your devil craves more—he begs, over and over, to be your fool willingly.”
He stood, fluid and graceful, the motion commanding yet intimate. Your eyes blossomed as you looked towards him, unable to move. You felt as though you were being consumed by him. You felt like you were consumed by his wonder, by his soul, by his everything. Like you always have been. Like you always want to be.
His fine lips hovered near yours, daring but unyielding, as though he relished the tension he had so masterfully wrought. Every second seemed to stretch into eternity, leaving you breathless, waiting, wanting—until finally, he whispered back to you.
“Tell me, my angel... How long are you going to keep me like this?”
Before you could respond, his calloused hands were on you. One sliding around your waist, the other cradling the back of your neck. His precious lips crashed against yours with a hunger that left no room for hesitation. It was a kiss that demanded everything from you, one that poured out all the frustration, admiration, and possessiveness he’d kept in check throughout the show.
You melted into him, your tender hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his coat and then his shirt as you kissed him back with equal fervor. His touch was everywhere, his hands tracing the curve of your waist, the line of your back, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t stand even an inch of distance between you.
The kiss deepened, his lips parting yours as his tongue sought entry, exploring, claiming. You gasped against him, and he took the opportunity to tilt your head back, giving him better access as he pressed you against the cool wall, pinning you against it.
“You were perfect, sweetie. You truly are.” he muttered against your lips, his voice a gravelly whisper. “You have no idea how you burn me alive.”
Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling slightly, earning a low growl from him that sent heat pooling in your stomach. “I think I’m starting to get the whole of it, ‘Kuna.” you teased breathlessly, your words cut off as he captured your lips again. “But….I wouldn’t mind knowing more about it.”
The air around you was thick with the scent of him, a mix of that one of a kind expensive mint cologne and a little bit of cinammon, something he had become fond of because of you. Everything about it was unmistakably your Sukuna.
The world outside the green room ceased to exist — no crowd, no cameras, no responsibilities to the world. It was just the two of you, tangled together, consumed by the fire you’d stoked in each other. Consumed by the very word that both of you couldn’t fathom saying to the other.
When he finally pulled back, the string of your connection bellowed you in parting. You looked at him intently as you gathered yourself. Both of you were breathless, wanton in your desire. You found your lips swollen and your heart pounding to no end.
Soon enough, he drew you closer and let his forehead rested against yours intently, his hands still firmly on your waist, holding you as if he feared you’d vanish.
“You’re so ardently beautiful, angel of mine.” he said again, his voice a husky promise. “Always. My only muse.”
“And you’re just as cunningly sweet, devil.” you replied, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. “You’re the only one who can be my artist.”
“You’re quite possessive tonight, aren’t you?”
You hummed back to him. “Don’t you already know that I am vile when it comes to you and smiling at other women?”
His smirk returned at your words. You rolled your eyes at his smirk, but your own eyes were too playful to suggest anything else. Your lover’s smirk turned softer soon, as your hands rested around his neck. But it was obvious that it was just as dangerous. Soon enough, he leaned in to kiss you again, passionately slower this time, as if savoring the moment.
The green room felt impossibly small, the charged energy between you crackling like a live wire. Sukuna’s hands roamed your body with a confidence that left you breathless, his touch igniting a fire in your veins. His lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, down the curve of your neck, leaving a heated path in their wake.
Your back pressed against the cool wall, a small breath releasing from your lips. You could feel the difference when you pressed against his body, though. Now more so when he had all but taken everything off, naked as the day he was born. It was truly a stark contrast to the endless heat and pleasure just radiating from his body and onto yours.
He held you firmly, his strong calloused hands gripping your voluptuous hips closer as though grounding himself in you. His hot breath was heavy against your skin, his sharp teeth grazing the sensitive spots on your skin that made you shiver and arch into him.
"’kuna, you….." you whispered, your voice trembling with both anticipation and need.
He chuckled darkly, his lips curling into a wicked smirk against your neck. "Say it louder for me." he demanded, his voice dripping with authority and raw desire. “I love hearing from you.”
You barely had time to respond before his hand slid lower onto your body, finding the silky fabric in his way. His brow raised for a moment. He had put himself in a conundrum, at times. He likes dressing you in everything he thinks of and creates. And yet, he just as much loves to see it off your body.
With a swift, deliberate motion, he tugged at the silky material, his eager movements ever so impatient yet precise. When your lover found your bare skin, you couldn’t help but gasp, throwing your head to the side slightly, clutching onto his shoulders for support.
It didn’t take long before your lover found himself pressing himself closer, the thick heat of his touch teasing at the warmth of your entrance. He paused, his warm scarlet eyes locking with your own, searching for permission in your gaze. Even when he leads, he knows an angel will always be the one on top, not him, not the devil.
You nodded, your bruised lips parting as you whispered back at him. "Please. Please, my devil."
From there, you could only find that the tension had all but snapped. He pushed into you with a slow, deliberate force that had you throwing your head back against the wall. A loud pleasured cry escaped your eager lips as his throbbing tip pressed against your walls with such a mean, unrelenting precision.
You could only ever feel so full with the way he was easily stretching you in a way that was both overwhelming and intoxicating. He always knew too well how your body would react to him, wantonly eager to capture him in this desire. Just as much as it was willing to follow him, like he was its very own pied piper.
His rough and yet gentle hands gripped your hips tighter against him, steadying you as he slid into you deeper, filling everything inside to the brim. Your lover’s breath could only feel ragged, his jaw clenched and tightened as he fought for control, his sweating forehead resting against your own, now too drenched in desire.
"You take me so perfectly, don’t you?" he growled, his voice low and filled with unrestrained hunger. “Too good.”
Your fingers found their way to the small of his back, nails painted crimson now stained deeper as they dragged across his skin, leaving raw, bleeding trails in their wake. You clung to him desperately, adjusting to the fullness of him, each deliberate motion sending shockwaves through your body.
The initial sting of his girth soon melted into a searing pleasure, a molten heat pooling deep within you as he buried himself further, again and again. Each thrust forward in this pandemonium of pleasure was deliberate, unyielding, designed to elicit the loudest, most unrestrained cries from your lips.
Even against the sound of music outside these walls, your pleasure was even louder. Not that Sukuna minded. If anything, that had just made him more eager for more. The air in the green room grew dense and feverish, charged with the mingling of your ragged breaths, the rhythmic slap of skin meeting skin, and the guttural curses that spilled freely from Sukuna’s lips.
He shifted slightly, tilting your hips with a nearly brutal precision, each movement driving him deeper and deeper into you. It was raw, primal—his intensity teetering on the edge of brutish animalism. The cool wall at your back pressed harder against you as he pushed closer, his heat overwhelming, searing into your already burning skin.
From then on, your lover found himself thrusting against you in a new angle. Almost instantly, you found yourself unraveled entirely, tearing cries of unrestrained ecstasy from your lips over and over again, layered in different pitches one after another. Your body arched instinctively, meeting him halfway, desperate for more as he kept you teetering on the precipice of bliss.
Again and again, your lover gleefully pushed you closer to that feverish edge, his swift movements unrelenting, even as his own breaths grew rough and uneven, the sound of his hunger matching the rhythm of your shared passion. You could feel your slick sliding down your crevices, as much as drool was falling from your lips.
“You feel that?” he growled, his voice low and ragged, thick with possession. His lips found the curve of your neck, teeth grazing your skin before biting down lightly, claiming you in a way that sent shivers down your spine.
You groan against him. “You take me so perfectly… even now, in this dress I made just for you. Look at how it clings to you, ruined. It’s just like I wanted.”
The shining silk fabric of the dress bunched at your hips, a masterpiece he had poured his craft into, now crumpled and wrinkled between your sweating, mangled bodies. It was too intoxicating, the way that the waves of wrinkles formed on the fabric as you moved against him just as intensely. It was such an art. It was an art that only belonged to you and him. No one else can ever see such marvels like this.
The bright satin straps had all but slipped from your shoulders, exposing more of your gleamingly red and marred skin to his roaming calloused hands and greedy scarlet eyes. His long fingers gripped the delicate material, rough and unapologetic, as though the dress itself was just another part of you to dominate.
Your response was but a strangled moan as his brutishly eager hips snapped forward, the force of him driving you harder against the wall. The burn of skin against skin, the body against the cool wall — it has overtaken you whole in many fits of groans in pitiful harmonies of pleasure.
The cool surface contrasted with the molten heat coursing through your body, heightening every sensation. Your nails could only continue to claw at his shoulders, leaving streaks upon streaks of your touch across his skin, marring him, as you fought to keep yourself grounded. He could only smirk at that.
“Look at you now.” he murmured darkly, his scarlet gaze piercing into yours. “Still wearing this dress like a goddess, and yet, you’re falling apart for me. Do you have any idea how maddening you are? How irresistible?”
His hand slid between your bodies, teasingly brushing over the intricate folds of the fabric as his fingers found the heat pooling between your thighs. “Tell me, angel… do you want me to ruin this dress too? To ruin you completely, so no one else can ever have you?”
“Yes, my devil.Yes.” you gasped, your voice shaky but unyielding, the word spilling from your lips like a prayer. “Only you.”
His chuckle was dark, wicked, and utterly consuming, the sound of a man reveling in his victory. “Just how I love it, then.” he whispered, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear, his breath warm and teasing. “Because I’ve made you mine in every way that matters.”
His pace quickened, the power of his thrusts leaving you breathless, and yet, the dress still clung to your frame, a tattered proof to his desire and your surrender. Every stitch, every detail he had meticulously crafted was now a witness to the unrelenting passion that coursed between you, its perfection crumbling just as you were under his touch.
“You’re so beautiful like this.” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion, even as it trembled with raw hunger. “My perfect angel. My creation. Mine.”
The dress clung to you, its delicate fabric now rumpled and damp with sweat, a stark contrast to the pristine masterpiece it had been when he first slipped it into your body hours earlier. His hands roamed freely now, rough fingertips tracing the paths of the seams he had stitched with care.
Each touch of his ignited sparks across your glowing skin, a searing reminder that every detail of the garment was crafted with you burning the thoughts he had mind—and now, every thread bore witness to how completely he had unraveled you bear to him.
“Do you feel how perfect this is?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as his voice dropped to a rasp. His hips surged forward again, drawing a gasp from your lips that echoed in the small room.
“Every part of this, of you, was meant to drive me insane. The heavens planned for that, don’t you think? An angel to save the devil from sin.” He lets out a small choked chuckle, feeling sweat permeate from his neck.
His words were almost worshipful, though they carried the dark edge of his hunger. One hand slid down, gripping your thigh through the bouncing fabric, pulling you impossibly closer as he pressed harder against you. His other hand tugged at the hem of your dress, teasingly smoothing it back down only to push it higher again.
“You don’t even know, do you?” he continued, his scarlet eyes locked onto yours, holding you captive as easily as his body did. “How beautiful you look like this—wrapped in something I made, only to have me ruin it.”
His lips curled into a smirk, wicked and proud, before he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. The kiss was all-consuming, his teeth grazing your lower lip, his tongue invading with the same urgency as his movements against you. When he pulled back, leaving you gasping for air, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath mingling with yours.
“Say it again. I wanna hear it again.” he demanded, his voice thick with need. “Tell me you’re mine.”
You could barely form the words, but they tumbled from your lips without hesitation. “I’m yours. Only yours.”
His eyes darkened further, a victorious glint sparking within them. “That’s right.” he growled, his pace quickening, his grip on you tightening as he drove you higher and higher. “You’ll always be mine, angel. No one else will ever have you like this. No one else will ever love you like I do.”
The intensity of his words sent you over the edge, your beautiful cries mingling with his animalistic groans as he followed you into an oblivion together. The air around you was heavy, thick with the scent of desire and the echoes of your shared release.
For a moment, neither of you moved from the bliss of the high. The only sound that mattered to the two of you was the ragged cadence of your breaths. His hands, once rough and relentless, now moved with never ending tenderness, smoothing the crumpled fabric of your silk dress as if trying to restore its dignity.
As if trying to hide the ruin and depravity that he feels only belongs to you and him. No one else can see it, no one else can know about his depravity. Only you, only you were the spectacle of any wrinkle in his composure. Your lover smiles at you. His lips brushed your forehead, a soft contrast to the ferocity of moments before.
“You’re perfect, as always.” he whispered, his voice low but steady, carrying a rare, vulnerable warmth. “In every way.”
You couldn’t help but smile at him. “So are you.”
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen x you#ryoumen sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna smut#jjk smut#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna ryomen#jjk sukuna#kayu writes ! ! !
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good luck on your exams! would love to hear some vi or sevika yandere headcanons
thank you so much!! my exams are starting this week and i’m pretty nervous >.<
i won’t go into too much detail, so if you’d ever want smth more detailed just drop an ask and i’ll (eventually lol) get to it :3
Yandere!Vi
one of the more ‘sane’ yanderes
tries her best to avoid kidnapping you; whilst her feelings for you are anything but normal, she still wants to feel like she’s in a relatively normal relationship with you
charms the pants off you with no trouble at all
you genuinely wouldn’t know anything was wrong with her - she seems so put together
you say yes to being her partner and that’s when you notice how controlling she can be
vi is smart enough to make sure that her less desirable tendencies don’t show up until you’re deeply entrenched in the relationship
it’s all peaches and cream until she’s punching the wall next to your head because you dared to talk to that guy at the bar
then all of a sudden you’ve got a curfew and can’t go anywhere without her
and before you know it you’re trapped inside your house because “it’s not safe out there in the lanes”
makes you get a tattoo with her name over your heart (she does the same)
however, if you’re somehow not charmed by her, she decides to turn to more…unorthodox methods
hires a street gang to rough you up a little - not enough to seriously hurt you, no, vi could never do that to you; just enough to knock some much needed sense into you
i mean, how can you not like her back???
she swoops onto the scene to save you and ensures you’re caught in her snares
the happy ever after you both deserve <3
Yandere!Sevika
sevika is an interesting yandere
she probably comes off as more of a stundete at first - she’s not the most expressive when it comes to showing romantic affection like some of the other yanderes
she keeps tabs on you, a regular at the bar, all the time but you’re convinced she hates you and must think you untrustworthy
why else would you be on her radar?
in reality her checking up on you, making sure nobody tries to be funny with you is her way of showing interest
don’t get me wrong, she can make a nun blush with her flirting skills but she’s never felt so obsessed with anyone before and doesn’t know how to process it
it all comes to a head when she has a particularly rough day at work, a few bourbons deep and she decides to take you
quite literally hooks her arms around you and carries you over her shoulders
it doesn’t matter how much or how loud you scream, it’s hopeless
she’s so much stronger than you and onlookers that watch your struggle don’t even dare to move an inch - sevika has a fierce reputation and nobody would want to anger her
can be very threatening and acts that way often at the beginning of your captivity
scolds you often and when you go on a hunger strike she rolls her eyes and force feeds you herself
you don’t see this coming but she makes you kiss her cheek before she leaves every morning and when she comes back at night
she doesn’t care if you look like you’re on the brink of tears doing so, to sevika it’s only fair she gets this when she’s busy protecting you every day
has you help her clean her prosthetic arm in pure silence
her favourite part of the day/week <3
she may be angry but at the end of the day every cruel and calculated thing she does is for your sake
#arcane#vi x reader#sevika x reader#yandere vi#yandere sevika#yandere vi x reader#yandere sevika x reader#yandere#arcane headcanon#request#arcane request
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This bug needs to be closer
It seemed that today you could barely function. You just need to be attached to one of your caregivers for the whole day. You tried to do work, tried to read some of the mission papers but your eyes glazed over and by the fifth time you reread the same sentence, you gave up. The words didn’t make any sense and your patience is too short to push through. You know Price is in his office and Simon is overseeing some sort of training. You just need to be close to them, feel their warmth, soak up their attention.
When you hear footsteps approaching you lift your head from where you are miserably lying on the couch. Kyle pauses in the doorway and gives you a concerned look.
“What’s wrong bug?” The question makes you tear up, and you turn to shove your face in the couch cushion. You let out a sad drawn out whine, which feels childish but it was all you could get out. You feel the thumps of his steps get closer to you. He starts stroking your hair and all you do is lift your head up slightly to wipe your tears with your hands. “What can I do for you hm?”
“John.” You couldn’t hold back anymore, all you want is to be held.
“Ok sweetheart let’s go see Price.” You nod and get up, wobbling slightly but Kyle reaches out to put his arm around you. You're grateful for the stability and comfort. Thankfully on your way to John’s office no one else is in the hallway, you don’t need the embarrassment of someone seeing the tears running down your face.
It's a short walk and then Kyle is knocking a few times on the door. There's a “come in” before he twists the doorknob and pushes the door open. You see Price look up from the papers on his desk, glasses sat low on his nose and his favourite pen resting in his hand. You can’t stop the new flood of tears at the sight of him and rush to him. He quickly sets down his pen and opens his arms. You fall into his arms and your shoulders shake with the intensity of your sobs.
“Oh love.” He had noticed your low mood in the morning but didn’t think it would be this low. He mumbles a quick “thanks” as Kyle shuts his door on the way out. John turns his attention back to you, rubbing your back with one hand, and types out a quick message to Simon with the other. He figures you’d appreciate him being there as well. About ten minutes pass before Simon enters the room. Your breathing has slowed, only the occasional sniffles, and you are tucked into John’s chest. You open one eye to look at Simon as he rounds the desk and crouches in front of where you are curled up.
“Rough morning bug?” You give him a small nod and then seem to think for a moment before you reach out for him. He stands and lifts you into his arms with ease, something both you and him enjoy greatly. He loves that he can hold you the way you so desperately need. You wrap your legs around him, and your arms circle his neck securely. He sways back and forth slightly but when he walks to the couch you whine and stick a hand out to Price.
Simon sighs softly before shifting to hold you with one arm and then drags a chair over to John. It wasn’t as comfortable as the couch but when he sits down and you see that you are close to Price, you settle against him and close your eyes. John looks over at the two of you and smiles softly. He is close enough that he's able to reach out and rub your back before going back to his paperwork. Simon leans his head against the wall behind him and closes his eyes as well. He might as well enjoy a break, not that he was complaining.
first fic that I've posted! little nervous about it! I got some more 141 stuff cooking up but I've also been thinking about doing some cg!frank castle, cg!stucky, cg!logan howlett stuff too. lmk if you have any situations you'd like to see!
#little!reader#little reader#cg!simon riley#cg!john price#reader is a part of 141#agere fic#sfw agere#i don't know how the military works so i tried my best
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Starscream is given a bath, Part 5:
1083 words on this one. Had it done for a few weeks, only now posting it. Sorry for that delay, folks! The last part is MOSTLY done too, I just need to read it again one last time. Then I’ll have a vote on what Starscream thing to write next.
Part 4: here
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The…
wings?
“If you’re alright with that?” She added, and Starscream flinched, those very wings pricking up as he returned to reality.
“You’re- you’re really dedicated, aren’t you?” He smirked, slowly but gradually shedding the panic from the vent cleaning and returning to his usual self.
“Hmm, yes. I think I will allow you to.”
Starscream, seemingly fully embracing the fact that he was being given a spa day and that he totally deserved it for some reason, sunk back into the water lying on his cockpit. His arms were crossed under his helm, knees bent back so that his lower legs sticking out of the water.
The human about to climb over the tub suddenly stopped, contemplated logistics, and decided she was too tired to care if this was weird before promptly climbing onto Starscream’s back. The seeker’s wings fluttered and he made a sound of surprise when she settled between them, but he did not protest. Lifting his head he tried to look over his large shoulders, quickly giving up and returning to his previous position with a sigh.
“There ya go, stretch them out.” The human instructed as she gently brushed her hand over the length of one wing to guide him, having to lean over to actually reach all the way to the tips.
“Don’t tell me what to do.” Starscream muttered back, although there was no real bite to his voice. He seemed almost sleepy again.
They felt very solid, smooth as they glided under her fingers. Barely any seams or imperfections sticking out. Not even the fastest human-made aircraft had wings this smooth. Weighted and rigid in her hold, yet with an elegance about them at the same time. She moved her fingers all over the surface, being firm but not rough while trying to spread soap all over the jet’s wings, coating them in white and bubbles. As for Starscream, the worst of his tension seemed to have melted away. It had been a long time, and he was annoyed to admit that this touch made him feel almost nostalgic. It was difficult to give his wings a through clean, without a trine to help him tend to them. As proud of his frame as he was, this was something he would not entrust to, or ask of, just anyone.
“Why don’t you extend your flaps too?”
“Excuse me?” He replied, lifting his head out of the water, brows furrowed.
“Want me to get everything, don’t you? Come on, quit holding out on me.” She grinned, patting him on the back. He could tell there was a personal fascination mixed in with her desire to clean him up. This human was a flyer, after all.
“Hmph.” His wings flared back in exaggerated offense, sending bubbles flying around.
“Hey!“
“Who do you think I am? One of your common ‘training aircraft’? Asking for my wing surfaces so casually.” He questioned, head propped up on one arm and tapping a talon on his cheek. “A word of advice: You really should stop taking this view for granted, pilot. Don’t think your choice of seating has escaped my notice.”
That made her chuckle, and he chuckled too. Starscream shrugged and quickly admitted mock defeat, keeping up his smug tone.
“But, I suppose since you’re so desperate and eager, I will take mercy on you.” His words were emphasized with the fluttering of his wings, and he gave a pause for dramatic effect.
Finally, with a sly grin and a satisfied expression, the seeker relented and held his wings up high. His high-lift devices extended swiftly. It didn’t feel mechanical at all, the way he moved them. There was no delay, no struggle, only a slight click when they locked into position. They moved just like any other part of his body, and that reminded her just how alive Starscream was. Flaps trailing from the back, and slats from the front. Except since the wings sat inverted on his back it was actually the other way around. They looked bigger now, the new pieces fitting seamlessly with the rest of the surface.
“Thank you, my Lord.” She replied without taking her eyes off him, and it made the seeker feel proud despite knowing she was only joking. The human resumed her work now that she had access to the entirety of his wings, scrubbing, every now and then moving her hand lower to scratch at the base where they would connect with his back. She took notice of how the jet shivered when she did that. Ailerons twitching in a way that she likened to feeling tickled. Wings tensing, shaking ever so slightly.
“You really do have some beautiful wings, Starscream.”
If Starscream himself was aware of it, he was too relaxed at this point to care. His frame was vibrating so faintly she would’ve missed it if she hadn’t been sitting on his back, and the soft purr of his idling engine was nearly drowned out by the rush of the water she was rinsing him with. But it was there, unmistakably so.
“Of course I do.”
The seeker allowed her fingers to stick into the joint where his wings met his back without much more than a startled hum, burying his face into his arms as he felt her rooting around in search of debris.
“You’re not completely terrible at this, you know. You’re obviously unfamiliar, but considering you’re a human… you’re not bad at all.” His voice was soft. Unguarded.
“You think so?”
“Hmmm, yes. I do.”
The seeker stood up, albeit slowly, allowing her to safely slide off his back.
“In fact, I think I’ll return for another wash sometime.” He added with a cheeky grin.
“Hang on, I’m not done rinsing the soap.”
“That’s alright, I will manage.”
He shook his wings gently, the movement brushing off most of the remaining bubbles and water- part of it raining onto her- before he leaned down to awkwardly give her a pat on the head. This was definitely the calmest she’d ever seen Starscream.
“You’re leaving?”
Starscream hesitated, wings twitching as his expression turned to one of contemplation. He’d intended to do so on autopilot, but hadn’t given it enough thought whether that was the best course of action.
“It is best if I do, yes.” he finally replied, stopping as if he wanted to say more.
“Thank you.” He looked down at her and forced the words out. They felt awkward out of his voicebox. Unfamiliar.
#Spif writes#starscream bath#Starscream#tfp starscream#starscream x reader#starscream tfp#transformers x reader#tfp x reader#cybertronian x human#transformers#transformers prime#tfp#tf fanfic#tfp fanfic#fanfics
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Making a villain
You know the saying ‘Villains aren’t born, they are made’? Well, how do you pull it off? (There are some sensitive topics here, so TW for any and all mentions of neglect, abuse and torture)
Sow the seeds early
Repeat after me: I will NOT have my character turn out of the blue. I WILL let the story of their fall be laid bare for all to see.
- Have their design contrast with the other characters. Dark colors, sharp angles, spikes, all can make a character stand out. Be as subtle or as dramatic as you want, but know that the latter may get you panned by critics and readers if they feel you are using the trope as a crutch or a stereotypical shorthand.
- Give them a troubled backstory. Perhaps the character grew up in a rough neighborhood, or be overshadowed by a ‘more gifted’ sibling. Maybe they were the kid that took things too far. Have them not be too troubled with lying and stealing, as they had to do that in order to survive.
- Give your character a chip on their shoulder. Have them always strive to prove themselves and seek approval and acceptance. If you make them a POV character, show their innermost thoughts; the hunger in their eyes, the thoughts of jealousy and envy, and the justifications for their actions and beliefs.
Push them to the limits
Now that your character is established, you will next have to push them down the path the villainy.
- Put them in situations where they question if they are on the right side. Have the ‘good guys’ come up short, be too extreme, or favor only a few over the many.
- Have their past come back to haunt them. Someone they once knew now denounces them, or maybe the ones closest to them are now ‘enemies of the state’. Any signs of a rebellious nature or questioning of authorities can be used to undermine your character. Have it be made clear that the authorities, and even their teammates/ friends/ allies don’t trust them fully.
- Let the nagging doubts in their head have free rein. Let them never be satisfied with their lot. Let them compare themselves to others, and let the worst thoughts build and simmer.
- Have them find out their cause is built on a lie.
- Have them be captured. Have the whumper(s) break your character physically and/or mentally.
- You can also do the opposite, and have someone on the opposing side become a parent figure to your character. The feelings can be genuine or feigned, but leave no doubt that your character feels like they finally understood, that they are accepted.
The point of no return
Your character was at their lowest point. Now they are on the ascent again. Only this time on the side they were initially opposing. Time to seal their fate.
- Make the character burn the bridges. Out of a desire to please their new friends, or as a final test, have your character commit acts they would never do at the beginning of the story.
- Confront their former allies. Try and have your character convince them to turn, or have them killed for committing (at least in the mind of your character) so many crimes and atrocities. Your character’s philosophy could be ‘an eye for an eye’, or ‘I have to stop you before you cause any more harm’. It can even change depending on who they are facing and how far down the villain arc they are.
- Again, if they are a POV character, let them justify themselves. Make them and the audience believe that they are doing the right thing, that they are the ones who broke the wheel.
- How irredeemable they are is completely up to you.
#writing ideas#writing inspiration#writing prompts#writing tips#writing#creative writing#writer#writers#writers and poets#writing community#writer on tumblr#writeblr
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⋆˚🐾 the wolves & the lamb
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ .
{summary: sofia muses over her relationship with rafe and barry, and if she should really feel safe around these two ruthless men…}
{warnings: graphic violence, sexual harassment [not by rafe or barry]}
{a/n: rafebarrysofia nation i did it!! this was all inspired by the pic i saw that day on pinterest}
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ .
They were so different. Yet so strangely similar.
One with dark curls, dark eyes that mirrored her own. The other with a golden mane and blue eyes, the boy from the other side of the tracks.
They were also both taller than her. Stronger. Sharper teeth and an even sharper wit– they did spend most their time laughing after all.
She supposed she was somewhat a distraction to the two, a displacement to the wildness which swirled in their pupils– a whorling, fervid wolfishness.
She saw that ferocity when they kissed– it was all canines clashing, tongues lapping for dominance, claws gripping for control. It was violent. Brutal. Animalistic.
They were no longer men– their eyes changed, irises seeping into the white sclera, becoming black tar (even the baby blue ones).
Sofia was enamoured. It was beautiful to her.
In Barry’s trailer, away from the clamour of the country club, the disorder of her home, she could just breathe. They let her exist without care.
“You’re so soft,” Rafe would murmur against her skin, half panting, half praying.
“You’re so warm,” Barry would rasp, nuzzling into her arms.
Her lithe fingers scraped the shorn buzzcut, scratching softly, inciting little moans. She’d sink her palms in dark tresses, tugging slightly as he’d hiss.
They were so different.
Barry smelled of smoke and detergent. He was slower, more gentle– as if afraid she’d get hurt.
Rafe was sweet like cologne and cedar wood. She’d been with him long enough for him to he know her limits, know how rough she liked it.
They’d kiss her. Softly at first, their lips supping gently at her exposed flesh. She’d dig her nails into their shoulder blades. A silent plea: Harder. Faster.
They’d comply.
Sofia marvelled at their different touches. Barry’s fingers were soot stained and rough. But they’d caress her skin in a careful manner, becoming silken. Rafe’s fingers were slender and even. But he had a coarse dexterity that traced over Barry’s gentle grazes.
She’d watch them sometimes, when she lapsed in and out of sleep (she always fell asleep first). They spoke as if they’d known each other for centuries.
Sofia didn’t know everything about them; she could taste the clandestine in their kisses. She knew they were dark creatures. There was something violent in their blood and in their past. They were careful to keep that hidden from her, as if she was too fragile, made not of flesh and bone but paper and china.
She’d asked about it once. Rafe stayed silent, his jaw tensing. Barry had chuckled lowly, eyes becoming glossed over:
“What you don’t know won’t hurt you darlin’….”
In the wry drawl of his.
Sofia tried to ignore the stirring disquiet in her stomach. What the fuck did that mean?
She wondered if she was safe, pressed against the bodies of these two men. They often shared Barry’s bed, especially when it got cold. Her head rested atop Rafe’s biceps, Barry’s arm haphazardly draped across her midriff. All three of their legs were in a messy tangle, Sofia pulled and tugged between the two as the night passed.
She felt safe…But was she?
Her question was answered for her that night.
Finishing her shift, Sofia rolled her shoulders slowly, a days worth of knots and tension settling in her marrow. The sky was dark, rife with grey clouds and a peppering of stars.
She fished her phone out of her purse only to be greeted with a perpetual, black screen. Great– her battery had run out.
She was going to call Rafe to ask him where he was. But she already knew the answer– Barry’s trailer. The place had become like a second home to the two of them.
So she made her way down to The Cut, ready to collapse on to the couch and be doted on.
But when she pulled up to the grassy embankment, her eyebrows cinched in confusion. Usually it was only Rafe’s red Harley that was parked there. But today there was an unfamiliar car with blacked out windows that she didn’t recognise.
Sofia parked up, wondering if she should just leave. But her curiosity got the better of her, so she got out and headed to the trailer door.
That’s when she heard the muffled yell of a stranger’s voice, sending chills slithering down her spine. What had she walked into? Suddenly all the questions that lingered around Barry and Rafe like thick fog, rose and clogged her throat.
What were they hiding? What happened to them in the past? Why were they so afraid of hurting her?
Sofia stumbled back– she’d just get back in her car and drive home and call and check up on them from the safety of her four walls. That’s what she told herself.
Just as she was about to make a beeline for the vehicle, keys clutched tightly around her sweaty palm, the trailer door swung open, revealing an unfamiliar man, cigarette between his lips, lighter clicking between his greasy fingers.
She swallowed a mouthful of dry air, her throat pitted and closed up.
It was like her body could already sense something was wrong.
She ignored him, continuing to scamper with her keys in hand, but the man suddenly darted towards her, in long, irascible strides.
“Who the fuck are you?” He shouted, tone biting. Sofia didn’t say anything, her back pressed against the cold metal of her car.
“I’m no one– just took a wrong turn,” she quickly added, when she realised he was still waiting for an answer.
His leering eyes lapped her up, scanning the name tag on her chest.
The cigarette was discarded and his hand suddenly jumped up to grip her arm, the jagged edge of the lighter pressing into her soft skin.
She let out a pained gasp, terror enveloping her in its thick, slippery hold.
“Sofia huh? Pretty little thing,” the man mused, his hot, ashy breath hitting her face, “shame you’re a lying bitch– Get inside.”
Sofia bit back a whimper, her mind hurtling. Her phone was dead– she couldn’t call anyone. She still had her car keys, but how was she going to escape when his meaty, unyielding hand gripped her like this?
Panic began its foray, slamming into her chest, making her heart race and skin sweat.
She was pushed through the trailer doors, stumbling into the living space unceremoniously, the looming presence of her captor right behind her.
“Found this little lamb outside– said she took a wrong turn boss.”
Sofia surveyed the scene before her. Rafe was leaning against the kitchen counter. His fingers were playing with the gold ring on his finger– in the way he always did when on edge. Barry was sat on the sagged couch, leaned forward, different from how he usually sat–he was no longer sprawled like water across the weathered leather. Before them, sat on the arm chair, (covered in the crocheted shawl Sofia brought to hide the cigarette burns and peeling fabric) was another man she didn’t recognise.
He was tall and burly, dressed in leather and snaked with tattoos. Rafe and Barry being beside him made Sofia realise just how young they looked in comparison.
One seeing Sofia enter the trailer, her eyes frantically darting between Barry and Rafe, teeth caught between her bottom lips (if she bit down any harder, she would’ve drawn blood), Rafe lifted himself off the counter, his hands falling to his sides. Barry’s spine straightened, his jaw ticking restlessly as he eyed Sofia. Neither said a word.
“Wrong turn huh? You sure you don’t know these little boys here, doll?” The man chuckled, not getting up from his perch on the arm chair.
Sofia just shook her head, her chestnut curls falling into her watery eyes.
“Barry? Rafe? You know her?” The guy said, his amused drone becoming pointed when he talked to them.
Sofia stilled her hyperventilating breaths. Well, she attempted to at least.
“Nah Lance, she said she took a wrong turn didn’t she? Let her go.” Barry answered coolly, as Rafe’s hands balled into fists at his sides.
‘Lance’ stood up, the man behind Sofia also moving away so he was beside her instead. Slowly Lance began to approach her, Sofia feeling minuscule stood between two behemoth men. The thought of how easily he could snap her wrists with those hands of his passed through her brain, making her shudder.
“You don’t know her? She just drove up to this dead end trailer park on a whim?”
Barry and Rafe remained poker faced, offering only a slight shrug of their shoulders.
Lance grinned wickedly, “So you wouldn’t mind if I took a little taste then?”
Sofia froze, her heart sinking into her chest. She was suddenly acutely aware of the predicament she was in, Lance’s gaze feeling piercing and poisonous. The way he relished her image, lascivious pupils honing in on her short skirt, the swell of he breasts. Sofia was going to be sick.
She looked over to Rafe and Barry, her gaze pleading and helpless. Rafe’s face contorted, his lip twisting in ire. Barry’s indifferent facade crumbled to give way to a stony disquiet.
“Look..I’m sorry for intruding, I’ll just go home.” Sofia stuttered, her hands fumbling for the door handle behind her.
Lance just slowly shook his head, “no you’re not. I tell you what you can do.”
Sofia held her breath, eyeing Lance like a deer. A moment passed. 1. 2. 3.
Lance glanced up at his friend. That meant he wasn’t watching her. That meant she could make her move.
Sofia took her chance, swinging the handle down and slipping out the door in a single swift, fluid, motion, half spoken prayers caught in her throat.
She moved like a hare, spright and nimble, the cold of the night flooded in her lungs as she sped toward her car, keys in hand.
Behind her, the clatter of the door hurtling open, slamming against the metal wall of the trailer and a stream of expletives rushing out of Lance’s mouth could be heard.
But she paid no heed. She was right there– escape was on the tip of her tongue, before she was yanked from it by a pair of stout, thuggish arms.
She let out a frustrated squeal, her abdomen pressed down on like it was between a vice, as she was hurled in the air, her legs frantically kicking in protest.
Dragged back into the trailer, Sofia struggled to piece together what was going on.
The man who’d initially yanked her inside, deposited her down on the carpeted floor and then suddenly all she could see imposing her vision was Lance’s terrifying face.
In what felt like a flashing moment, his cold, ring clad knuckle, backhanded her straight across her cheek.
Joder. That hurt. Her head rang, her vision blurring as water instinctively fought to well in her tearducts, the side of her face doused in fire. The grooves of Lance’s fingertips squeezed into her cheeks, heaving her in the air so that her toes grazed the floor.
Barry and Rafe were both on their feet in an instant. Sofia struggled to keep track of the events that followed, her mind resounding from the hit. But she heard Barry yell.
“You fucking piece of shit.”
The words a guttural snarl.
She fell away from Lance’s hold, stumbling on to the floor and crawled away from the brawl, on her hand and knees, reaching the corner on the room. The taste of coppery, slick blood on her tongue made her nauseous.
Rafe had pulled out a gun, pressing the metal barrel against Lance’s head, as Barry kneed the other man in the chest.
Sofia watched, entranced at their sudden switch into severity. The way they both flashed their teeth, baring growls, biceps tensing and bulging as they threw punches. The way they paid no heed to the bones crunching discordantly. Or the wails of pain coming from the other two men. It was like they became distilled into the most bestial versions of themselves– pure, unadulterated rage and brute force.
Rafe spotted her in the corner, plastered against the peeling wallpaper.
“Get inside and lock the door,” he instructed, pupil-consumed eyes softening when they fell upon her.
And she did, waiting inside the bedroom, pacing and praying as the sounds of violence outside continued. She willed them to stop, her hands automatically flattening against her eardrums, muffling the echoing thuds and jarring yells.
Eyes squinted shut, she tried to steady her swaying body, brain still ringing from Lance’s punitive hit.
The trailer door slammed open once again, its ancient hinges creaking. the floor beneath her teetered as someone left. Sofia stumbled towards the window, opening a slit in the blinds to peek out and see Lance and the other guy retreat to their car. A breath of relief escaped her.
Just as she was about to turn around and find Rafe and Barry, a clatter of successive knocks came from outside the bedroom.
“Sof? Open the door,” Rafe’s voice instructed.
She complied, the door barely being opened a crack before Rafe flooded into the room.
“Fuck are you ok?” His hands suddenly scooped her face, examining the striking red mark on cheek.
Barry followed suit, pushing Rafe away. He had a first aid kit in his hands that he left on the dresser, as he carded his deft fingers through her hair, examining her ears and eyes, with a tautness in his face she’d never seen before. Usually he was all easy smirks and quirked up brows. Now his mouth furrowed into a discordant line, brows creased in tension.
“Your vision alright?” He asked, words clipped and gruff.
Sofia nodded, hand reaching up to meet his. Rafe hovered nearby, nervously chipping at his nails.
“No numbness? Anywhere on your body?”
She shook her head.
“Use your words darlin’…”
“I’m fine, I promise, it just stings a bit.” She rubbed a consoling thumb across the ridges of his veins.
“I texted you to stay away Sofia,” Rafe said, running his hand through his cropped hair.
“I’m sorry, my phone died.”
Barry had retrieved the ice pack from the first aid kit, handing it to her.
She pressed the cool plastic against her cheek.
Sofia’s eyes glazed over both their fists, covered in blood, skeins of dark red threading over ivory skin.
Barry sighed, running his blood stained hand through his hair. Slipping past Sofia, he took a seat on the edge of the bed. “Y’all should leave, take her back to Tannyhill.”
“I’m not leaving you here Barry, he could come back now that we’ve pissed him off.” Rafe’s voice had a protectiveness to it, a rare moment of his love for the man shining through. Both of them were usually so restrained with one another.
“Who were they?” Sofia asked, vision flitting between the two.
“Some sharks chasing up on interest.” Rafe answered.
“I’m so so so sorry,” Sofia avowed, head hanging low. “I messed things up for you.”
“No, I’m sorry Sofia. Fuck,” he let out an exasperated mutter. Maybe it’s best you don’t come back over here again,” Barry suggested, running a weary palm over his face.
Sofia blanched at that idea, looking at Rafe for back up. But he just gazed at her with the same, dejected expression.
“You guys can’t be serious? I’m literally fine.”
“It’s not about that though, we’re supposed to protect you. And you were hurt on our watch,” said Rafe, nearing her with tentative hands, resting them in the curve of her hip.
“I’m not some child ok? I’m not going to let you shut me out– I thought we all were equal, I though I was with you guys?” It was hard to hide a the hurt in her voice.
Barry and Rafe exchanged a look, almost pitying. Sofia struggled to hold back the tears. Rafe bundled her up in a seal tight hug, his hands going to cradle her soft hair.
“There’s no need to cry darlin’ ,” Barry murmured quietly, the bed squeaking as he stood up. He walked slowly to her, her back slotting against the wall of his chest, as he stroked a consoling hand up her body.
“You say you wanna protect me, then protect me then– I’m not leaving you both,” Sofia murmured against Rafe’s chest.
That night when she slept between the two, she realised she was safe. Their ferocity could never hurt her. When they attacked like dogs and fought like wolves, they became something other. But when they were with her, Barry and Rafe softened, her touch taming them.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ .
With Sofia’s slumbering body pressed against each their chests, Rafe and Barry stirred restlessly, sleep finding neither easily.
“You up, country club?” Barry whispered, listening to Sofia’s soft, sleepy breaths.
Rafe simply hummed in response.
Barry glanced over to his silhouette in the dark. “You ok?”
“Yeah– you?”
“I’m fine.”
They settled into silence.
“It’s my fault. I should’ve gone over to the club myself when she didn’t reply to my text– made sure she was far away from all this bullshit.” Rafe pierced the noiselessness, his words subdued and hoarse.
“There’s no point in beatin’ yourself up about it now. And besides, our girl took it like a champ.”
Rafe chuckled, playing lightly with the strands of Sofia’s hair.
“Do you think this is selfish of us?” Barry pondered, trailing his eyes over her angelic face, lit up by the moonlight filtering in through the blinds.
Rafe was silent for a while, listening to the faint whir of the extractor fan melding with the dull warble of cicadas outside.
“She’s tougher than you think Barry.”
“Hmn, maybe.” Barry considered, “she’s just so…delicate, you know? Like with you, I can rough you up and know you can take it. With her I’m scared sometimes.”
“Me too to be honest.”
“Fuck,” Barry laughed mirthlessly, “what the hell are we doin’ country club?”
Rafe let his eyes fall shut, “she’s ok. We’re ok. It’s chill Barry.”
“I’m just thinkin’ about the future, is all– one of us has to.”
“Well cut it out. You’re making it out like we’re gonna hurt her.”
Barry shut up knowing that he’d never. He hoped the same was true for Rafe. But after seeing how…vicious…the boy got sometimes, especially before he’d buzzed his hair off, Barry couldn’t be a hundred percent sure.
“We’ll be fine,” Rafe said in the semi darkness of Barry’s bedroom. “We’ll keep her safe.”
Rafe’s hand moved over to rest atop Barry’s, which was already resting on the crook of Sofia’s hip. He slipped his fingers in between Barry’s own, touch faint and soft.
“Yeah…we will.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ .
#outer banks#rafe and sofia#sofia outer banks#rafe x sofia#rafe cameron#sofia obx#rafe and barry#barry outer banks#barry obx#rafe x barry#rafe barry sofia#rafe x barry x sofia#rafe cameron fanfiction#sofia outer banks fanfiction#barry outer banks fanfiction#outer banks fanfiction#༊*·˚syren
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iris & bb adessa
ok @penfoldx asked about iris (bc i've only ever mentioned her) so i scoured my files and found an ANCIENT prompt fic that i started writing for @sweet-suzume TEN YEARS AGO and never finished
shad adwater from Whoever Needs Charity
The boy on screen turns his blood-smeared face to the camera, wide eyes shimmering with damp in the green-tinted night vision. Below him the final tribute gurgles and twitches as the blood leaks out too slowly for a quick, clean death, but Shad Atwater of District 4 appears not to notice, wiping blindly at the tears and muck that coat his cheeks.
Adessa stirs, and Iris glances down at her Victor, barely a year out herself and glued to the recap after having been denied the daily coverage. Onscreen the blood is black under the odd lighting, shining like an oil slick, and it’s been months since Iris caught Adessa in the woods examining the insides of squirrels trying to discover the future in their livers as she’d read in a book sometime, but this is more death and suffering than the young Victor has been permitted near since her own win.
“This isn’t right,” Adessa says. She sits primly as always, but now her knees twitch upward as though she’s fighting the urge to draw them up and hug her legs. The final tribute thrashes, exhales a final, shuddering breath as the boy from Four inhales one of his own, and at last the cannon fires. “This shouldn’t have been allowed to happen.”
Adessa is the first of them raised to volunteer from her earliest memories — her parents helped to found the Program and worked to recruit weapons-masters from all through the district and the veteran forces from the Capitol — and she never wavered in the Arena, not once. Iris hoped to avoid this, but it’s one thing to cause death and feel a modicum of control; it’s something else to watch it happen and see the brutality for what it is. This twitching, tortured child would be enough to turn anyone’s stomach.
She clicks her teeth hard, and Iris readies the speech she’s practiced since this year’s Reaping — about honour, and sacrifice, about their necessity whether it’s pretty and noble or not — except that Adessa cuts her off, voice unsteady. “He won’t stop crying. It’s — shameful, it’s not right. He’s the Victor, why is he weeping? Why did they allow this?”
Iris closes her mouth and studies Adessa truly. Her posture is tight and she’s actually fidgeting, which for Adessa is tantamount to near breakdown, and she draws her lower lip between her teeth and chews on it despite that being a forbidden mannerism in front of cameras or audiences. And yet it is not the death that has unsettled her, not the blood soaking the concrete and pooling sluggishly around the body; no, it is the tears of this year’s Victor that have peeled back her armour.
“Everyone wins differently,” Iris says as the recap ends and the cameras turn to Shad Atwater in the flesh, sitting onstage with his head; in his hands, shoulders trembling violently.
Adessa presses her hands flat over her knees to hide her shaking fingers. “They should let him go home,” she says decisively. “This isn’t appropriate viewing. No one should have to see this.”
Iris sighs and shuts off the television. “Come on,” she says, and Adessa springs to her feet with too much energy, muscles coiled tight. It will be a rough match today, but honest blood and solid violence is what her Victor needs. “Choose a weapon and let’s head outside.”
Adessa picks a curved dagger nearly the length of her forearm, lovingly turning the blade over in her hand, and Iris chooses a short sword. Soon Shad Atwater and his tears are forgotten in the clash of metal, and they do not speak of it again.
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A close up of Psykés trains.
Such a nice train design, but I do like the rainbow colours of the original Schwarzkopf ones.
#psyké underground#rollercoaster#walibi belgium#schwarzkopf#shuttle loop#glad that Gerstlauer kept the lapbar restraints#I feel like it would be too rough with over the shoulder ones#it’s already an intense ride!#image from google
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JUNO, YOU KNOW! k. nanami
☆ sum. last thing nanami would expect was to get struck by a “fatal” love curse during the very end of no nut november. you tease him even more by saying one of you is cute….but two though?
wc. 8.1k
warnings. fem! reader, husband! nanami, unprotected, sēx pollen, mentions of pregnancy, fluffy smut <3, handcuffs, brēeding, cunnīlingus, him finishing too quick, cowgirl, praise, soft dom! nanami, cērvix mentions, size kink, he's soooo whipped n in love w youuu, (bless his dad's genetics), boob obsessed nanami, aftercare, petnames.
an. my entry for @luv-lies's yummy nnn collab! ❤︎
november 29th, 2024. 6:09 P.M.
december was right around the corner - but oh, was nanami kento fuckin’ screwed.
“nanamin!” satoru—his colleague hollered, speedily rushing over to him. they’d just defeated an unarmed A-cursed spirit unlike any they’d ever seen before. it was quite strong, but it was nothing the pair couldn’t handle. satoru glances down, extending out his hand. nanami grunts, swiping a hand over his sweat-glossed forehead before sighing. he’s a bit roughed up but takes satoru’s cold palm with an irked grumble. “you alright? that was quite the hard hit.”
“ ‘m fine, gojo,” he grouses, readjusting his glasses. with a swift hand, he fixes his crooked tie. “just hah- underestimated the opponent. don’t fret.”
he wasn’t ‘just fine’ though. nanami felt his entire body starting to arise with scorching temperature within a matter of seconds. he’s boiling hot- and it felt like his heart was pounding straight out of his chest. perplexed, satoru furrows a snowy brow at his comrade once he notices his awkward body language.
“what do you need? tell me- maybe we can-”
nanami was clenching his chest with one hand, panting heavily before letting off a raspy huff.
“i need . . my wife.”
the car ride home was silent.
satoru offered to take him home, wondering just what really happened. nanami was as stubborn as a mule though, so he didn’t question it further. he’d rather not get scolded. his head rests against the tented window as he stares outside.
driving through the rutted bumpy roads of tokyo, nanami’s droopy eyes occasionally drifted away from the bright street lights that merely blinded his naked eye from gazing a bit too long.
as usual, the city was packed, dozens of cars zooming by with the flashy beaming store signs. in the background, some random song was playing. it was pop—and of course, satoru was loudly humming along to the catchy poppy melody.
the lyrics were quite . . vulgar though, but nanami still remained quiet, focusing his eyes on the streets.
skrrrrrrrt!
satoru’s breaks eventually come to a stop. it was about maybe a good ten-minute drive and he arrived at you and nanami’s cozy minka. the light was on so he assumed you were probably still up. placing the rusty shift in the park, the white-haired sorcerer turns to nanami with a cheeky grin.
“take it easy, alright? ‘m sure the curse will wear off at some point,” and nanami scoffs once his palm pats his shoulder. reaching for his seatbelt, the blond click it off before unlocking the door. “oh! and tell your wifey i said hi!”
“sure thing, gojo.” nanami stops himself from rolling his eyes, reaching near the backseat to retrieve his dusty suitcase. with a loud vroooom, satoru’s aqua-blue convertible takes off and nanami starts to make his way toward the door.
glancing down, he fishes for his keys in his pocket, grumbling under his breath.
god- he feels so damn hot. even hotter than when the attack occurred..
was this supposed to be normal?
all he knew was that he wanted, no- he needed you.
something in his body . . whatever it was, was direly aching for you.
the entire car ride, nanami’s mind was entirely flooded with thoughts of you, you, and only you.
whenever he had missions, he’d always think about you, sure. but this time- this time was far, far different.
he felt like he was gonna melt right away if he didn’t touch you, if he didn’t smell you-
“ken…to?” you murmur with a quirked brow, standing behind the tall sliding door. nanami stiffly stood at the doorway, keys still idly in hand with the most dumbfounded look.
oh- he was so kept in his thoughts that he didn’t even realize you had already slid the door open.
you looked so pretty though. nanami could feel his face softening once his eyes locked onto you.
it was pretty dark at night but like always, he could make out your gorgeous physique as clear as day. you were actually wearing one of his business shirts with what he hoped were panties underneath once he took a glance between your bare thighs.
his fawn eyes continue to trace down every exposing inch of your skin, and he snaps back into reality once he feels your palm cup his cheek.
“hi, baby. how was the mission?” you hum.
“not hah- that good,” he pants, and you furrow your brows once he steps inside, sliding the door closed and tossing his suitcase to the floor. it lands with a banging thud, and nanami pulls you into a hug.
a coy smile goes against your lips, wondering why he’s being more clingy than usual, but nanami rests his face right on top of your chest. letting off a smoky sigh, he roughly grumbles, gently rubbing a thumb against your hips. “mmf- i missed you, sweetheart.”
with a soft expression, you comb a few tangled fingers through his blond tresses. “i missed you more.”
“no- i really missed you,” he protests, and you can see a bit of a pout forming against his lips. nanami’s drowsy eyes trail down at the bit of skin that shows through his shirt. it was a bit loosely oversized, and you smelled just like him. his cologne was good on you. so good.
uh oh- he was starting to feel even more hot.
just resting against your chest had him hearing the repetitively unsteady beats of his heart through each of his sensitive pointed ears. “at the mission today . . i got struck by a curse.”
with a worrying look, your face shifts into a look of concern. “a- are you okay? what happened?”
“ ‘m fine,” he lets out a muffled huff of reassurance. nanami breathes against your skin, sweetly planting kisses against the cotton fabric that shields the entirety of your chest. “i feel really hot though.. everywhere- not just my head,” he speaks once the back of your hand lands on his forehead, checking for a temperature.
indeed, he felt hot.
sepia-colored irises flicker up toward you before he shivers. “when you . . touch me, honey- it makes me feel weak. hah- like i feel-”
“aroused?” you finish his sentence, your concerned look slowly disappearing.
oh.
thankfully, it wasn’t anything serious . . or was it?
nanami stares at you with a cute head nod being his answer as you press a kiss on his warm forehead. “so was it some type of love curse?”
nanami’s breath becomes deeper as he takes a minute to formulate words in his overstimulated brain. “m- maybe. all i know is that i just- i want you…i need you,” and he sighs deeply, eyes lowering. “you look beautiful tonight by the way.”
“it’s still november, baby,” you tease, knowing exactly where he was going with his gruff words. nanami had a feral hungry look in his eyes, and it looked like no other expression of his you’ve seen before.
he lets off a frustrated groan at your words, remembering the little ‘challenge’ you both agreed on once halloween ended.
ah- ‘no nut november’.
where men have to apparently abstain from masturbation and cumming—according to you, specially for the entire month of november.
not that nanami necessarily minded, he had a pretty good tolerance, actually.
but today, of all days?
he felt like he was about to break. being so close to your proximity had nanami’s head spinning.
his face - it’s overly flushed. a pretty tint of pink starts to slowly paint his face as he pouts at you.
you don’t think you’ve ever seen your husband like this—let alone pout. “we made a deal, remember?” you continue, caressing a thumb across his cheek. his chin was still resting on your chest and you could see the frown marinating against his features. “december first.”
“but-” he grunts, watching the smug grin spread across your glossed lips. nanami gets sheepish, tilting his head down. “sweetheart- i know that, but you’re bein’ pretty cruel right now, no?” and you glance down, feeling his lips collide against the skin that briefly exposes your tummy. “do you always wear my work shirts when i’m not home?”
“yeaaah,” you admit, letting off a tiny snicker. nanami feels your shoulders slacken once you release a single breath, and you stare straight into his eyes.
his eyes however, never left yours, not for a millisecond. as the gaze continued, you could see the beads of sweat starting to race down each side of his forehead.
oh-
maybe the curse was serious. getting an idea you decide to amp up your teasing just a bit. “do you wanna know what i was doing earlier while wearing your dress shirt?”
nanami places chaste kisses between the valley of your breasts. “uh huh. tell me, wifey.”
“i . . might’ve been playin’ with myself,” you sweetly speak, and he could hear the tease lacing underneath your sentence.
the more you spoke about what you were doing, nanami was starting to feel even hotter-
and the pure image of you touching yourself with his button-front shirt on, engulfed in nothing but his musky cologne made him groan. it was clear you weren’t wearing panties. he couldn’t help but peek, and sure enough—you were going commando.
nanami keeps his lovingly longing gaze and slowly, he raises his head from between your chest, raising a brow as if silently saying, ‘continue.’
with a cheeky smile, you wrap your arms around his torso. “i couldn’t make myself finish though. my fingers aren’t as long as yours. so, i ended up falling asleep and i had a dream. about . . us.”
“i see,” nanami huskily utters, sinking his head into your left shoulder. you just smelled so so sweet — sweeter ever, and you could see nanami trying to restrain himself. clearing his throat, nanami invades an entire side of your neck with wet, loving kisses. “what was the dream, princess?”
now it was your turn for your heart to start racing.
it was quick, beating at such high beats per minute. with an impish expression, you cup his chin and make him face you.
tenderly rubbing a thumb over his lips, you finish what your cute, lewd admission. “i…uh- dreamt about you retiring as a sorcerer. or you have a safer job that makes you less stressed. we finally . . settled down, and we um . . ended up having kids.”
“kids, huh,” he whispers, dragging a hand through his blond strands. you could feel his feverish heat radiate against your skin and you were surrounded by his balmy warmth.
he wasn’t exaggerating—nanami was truly, truly burning up. the buds on his tongue sizzle each time he takes a fateful second to swallow, salivating the more his eyes focus on you. nanami ponders for a moment silently, and before you know it, he’s picking you up.
you let off a cute surprised gasp, hurling your arms around his neck before watching him sigh. “ah- don’t get shy, my sweet. keep going.”
nanami continues to walk with you in his arms, going up the creaking, wooden stairs and you run a few fingers down your exposed nape.
“we . . had about maybe two or three. you even started growing facial hair too,” and nanami’s grip on your hips softens. he raises a blond brow before trodding inside the quiet bedroom. “you’d make a good dad though, ken,” you purr, running a finger down his amber-dotted tie. “could you imagine though? one of me is cute, but two though?”
“honey-” he cuts off, lying you flat back against the mattress.
with a split-second glimpse underneath the oversized formal shirt you wore—indeed, you weren’t wearing any panties. he had to check just one more time.
nanami starts to pant heavily, watching as you playfully lift your leg, throwing it over his shoulder. “is that- is that what you want? to settle down?”
“only if . . you want to.” you murmur in a soft tone, deeply getting lost in his golden-hour gaze.
nanami’s eyes were bright, shining with nothing but love and adoration for you - always.
if you squinted just enough, you could see his pupils forming into cute-shaped hearts.
grabbing his hand, you place it on your tummy, sliding it underneath the buttoned shirt.
“i want… you,” he huffs, his voice turning from tender to raspy within seconds. nanami leans in and presses his lips against yours. his dimples happily curve forward once you immediately return the gesture, cupping his face with both hands.
right away, nanami moans against your lips as his hot tongue blissfully shoves itself inside your mouth. minty peppermint — it’s exactly what he tasted like, and his cool breath running against your tongue only made him taste sweeter.
nanami couldn’t help but roll his hips against you with his sweaty forehead softly pressed on top of yours.
each popping smack of hungry lips got louder, and he heard the faint clanks of his belt shuffling. you slid a hand down, reaching for the middle part of his pants. you’ve shared many kisses with nanami, but this one seemed different..
a current of chills ran down your spine as he deepened the passionate kiss as the callused tips of nanami’s fingers unbuttoned his shirt.
speaking of his shirt though—he just couldn’t get over how much his shirt was just prettily glued against your skin.
“god- this month’s been torture, sweetheart,” he’d breathe between nearly suffocating kisses.
nanami’s lungs were full, and he’d sometimes even forget to breathe. such full lungs of his were heaving in and out continuously, desperate for any sort of puffs.
they had to find air, they just had to..
but nanami didn’t care about breathing, not when he had his lips ardently locked against yours.
“couldn’t- stop- thinkin’- ‘bout- you-” he grunted in a hoarse tone, sweetly sucking against your lolled tongue. its mushy warmth invites him to continue, and you briefly open your lashes to stare straight into a very needy nanami’s eyes. “hah- you were all i thought about at work today.”
“mhm, breathe, kento,” you whisper, feeling your lips swell the minute he pulls away.
a web of gluey saliva leaves from both sets of puffed lips and he breathes like you said. with a looooong inhale, nanami then exhales before grunting. you simper, tugging on the hem of his beige boxers. “maybe i can . . help with that curse?”
and you did.
in more ways than one, really.
to be brief, nanami kento was a feral man-
he felt himself turning into a brand new man the second his tongue graciously rolls itself flat against the flatness of your pretty twitching clit.
a sharp gasp winds straight out of your lungs as you’re sat with your legs obtusely spread to a wide degree.
with your hands burying themselves underneath your plushy tits as he devoured you—you couldn’t help but toy with yourself for a bit. moaning, a thumb trails its way down against one of your puckered nipples that poke through the fleecy blue dress shirt.
“k- kentooo.” you’d hum out a whimper, a hand finding its way near the top of his head.
he’s slow… badly wanting to savor your sweet taste on his tongue while eating you out like the starved, starved man that he was.
wisping a bundle of fingers through his blond locks, you continue to cup one of your tits with one hand. long, thirsty sluuuurps exited from nanami’s lips as you watched his head frantically shake from side to side.
your tummy was already seizing, and the heel of your ankle started to guide its way down his back. wet, sloshing noises ricocheted against nanami’s lips as his eyes periodically averted back towards you.
he’s giving you the ‘i wanna marry you again’ stare, no doubt. even with his mouth stuffed, nanami kento’s never felt more in love—
maybe this love curse . . pollen, whatever it was was a secret blessing in disguise.
the panicky, racing beats of nanami’s heart never slowed, and a hand of his then grips your thigh. tenderly, you feel the tip of his tongue dipping its way in ‘n out — wetly lathering his pink twitching muscle with your sweet slickness.
your eyes remain on him the entire time, getting forevermore lost in his crave-like gaze. “shh- talk later, princess. promise.” he whispers against your cunt, delving his tongue in swerving, wide circles.
those wide circles eventually curve their way into hearts, though. a whine sobs its way from the back of your throat as the grip on his hair tightens.
you felt the scaly, hot of his tongue create the perfect heart . . even spelling out the simple eight letters of ‘i love you.’
your legs couldn’t hold still, they just couldn’t- and you could feel the skittish smile forming against his lips, tickling against your pussy.
you were drooling from your entrance, right from the puffy slavering slit down. you’re flooded, soddened with such amounts of dewy dewdrops that form into strings, and in a way though, it was pretty.
nanami was just struck in awe at how much you were just profusely leaking. like the gentleman nanami was though, he lapped it right up. his rose-swollen lips cupped everywhere, smothering the crevices of your sheeny thighs with his many, many kisses.
“r- riiiight there, ‘ken,” you’d mewl out a desperate plea, slowly dragging his head against your cunt. it’s moving around in a hypnotizing circle, but if it was anything that was leaving you in a mere trance of a state, it was his tongue.
nanami explores through every puffy wet corner, sloppily slotting his tongue in between your pudgy folds. he grunts against your throbbing heat, feeling the weight of his impatient boner prodding beneath his cotton-made boxers. “mngh- gonna cum. ‘m gonna cum, kento.”
“do it for me,” he soundlessly says, vertically smearing a fat thumb down your slimy pussy.
your entrance was soaked-
tearing away with drooling droplets of slick. every time. he was so enticed that he had to take a minute to just stare at your cunt—admiring how wet his pretty, perfect girl was - just for him.
nanami was entranced once he moved his face closer. the tip of his button nose then literally starts to drag itself down your sobbing slit and he moans, taking in your natural scent. “hah- c’mon, sweetheart. give it t’ me,” and he brings his ring finger right up against your core.
it’s a lanky finger that starts to bedaub against your cunt, feeling you writhe at the sensitive contact.
you whine, feeling his ring finger rub its way against your heat before poking your tongue against your cheek to silence yourself.
as you watch, his digit gets covered with your mess almost immediately, and you shudder at the cold band of his ring toying with your salivating folds. “pretty please-” and oh- he’s begging.
a blond brow of nanami’s quivers as his lips attach back to your cunt. sticky, glistening strings of arousal rills straight down his forward-pointed chin as he continues to rub the back of his wedding ring against your pulsating clit.
it’s icy cold.. you felt him keep up the pace as the material of the band smears itself around in circles before feeling a coil in your tummy tightening.
the pressure makes you see stars for a hot second—and you’re met with a bundle of nerves trying to introduce itself to the lower depths of your stomach. “ ‘m cumming!” you’d blurt in a staggering wail.
the crashing wave of endorphins made you exhale a cute sigh as your legs started to get more and more numb.
you felt like you were floating on every single cloud, including cloud nine - especially cloud nine.
nanami’s tongue still slid its way in between the slot your sappy folds, feeling the cute twitches of your throbbing clit against his bumpy tastebuds as you start to spasm. “fuh- fuck! ‘ken ‘m sensitive, baby.” and your words turn into a mere hush once your body started to limp its way onto the sheets.
your thighs locked around his neck, and you still had his hair in a firm grasp, digging your fingers deep into his roots and scalp.
with widened doe-eyes, you glance back down toward your husband who’s merrily licking you clean without a single care in the world.
if the beats of your heart was a car, you’d be speeding.
it’s beating so fast out of your chest that you can barely keep up. your legs felt like mush as your neck finally gave up, collapsing back against your pillow.
“mmh- should’ve just stayed . . hah- stayed home today,” he grumbles, giving every glossed part of your exposed cunt individual kisses. nanami starts at your pretty clitoral hood, sprightly nibbling at the tender fold of skin. you whine, yanking his head forward before nanami pats your pussy. “could’ve been playin’ with her a- all day.”
“you’re here now.” you speak out of breath, pulling his head back up. once you do so, nanami looks at you with the most pussy drunk expression.
his lips were all plump and red, lashes merely sticking together, and glossed sleek streams of slick racing down his chin. nanami leans into your touch, sitting up before leaning in to kiss you.
again- his tongue sloppily carved a wet trail through your mouth, and you moan once you feel the tint of his boner press up against your bare cunt.
he’s so hard, you wondered if it was painful. you swallowed each grunt of his in your mouth, feeling his body hungrily rock against yours.
a few ash tresses stick against his forehead as his lips violently crash onto yours—creating an impactful collision.
as dancing tongues swiftly twisted and spiraled around each other in sync, you hear a bit of shuffling again.
nanami's reaching into his boxers, grunting against your lips once he feels the anchoring weight of his heavy cock lie flat against his palm. “m- mhm, sweetheart.” he throatily groans, feeling your hand slip inside of his boxers too.
you feel a lightning-shaped vein shoot down his skin and he grunts. nanami was as sensitive as ever, and with your hands softly tracing circles over his bulky triceps, he knew he was in trouble.
deep, deep trouble..
“it’s okay, ‘ken,” you whisper, letting off a sharp inhale once his fiery hot tip smears its way on your cunt.
it’s almost flat out rude at first—with the way it smacks against your folds, creating a wet splash that lands right on his bulbous crown.
from the stout tip that’s round at all thick corners, nanami’s leaking.
milky, pearls of whiteness dribble from the fleshy sides of his fat cock and he grunts once he feels your shaky legs caging him in again.
god- you looked so pretty like this..
just laid back, wearing nothing but his business shirt. all the buttons were unbuttoned so now—it was just you, breasts cutely sprung out and all.
gently grabbing his face once more, you mumble against his flushed temple. “inside, it’s okay. go inside,” and your sweet words were like a chant.
he’s slow-
carefully aligning his maroon tip between your syrupy slit, feeling it clumsily slip out every few thrusts.
you even reached between your legs with a single hand, spreading your pussy open right before his eyes. “don’t be… shy, she doesn’t bite, kento.”
“hhh.. woman- you’re gonna be the death of me,” nanami gulps, openly staring at the slippery heat stick between your legs.
he didn’t know which action had him feeling hotter. your filthy words, you, or the way you spread yourself open for him with just two, cute fingers.
two twinned digits pried your lower lips apart, and he grunts once the swollen head of his cock snugly pops its way past your gummy barrier.
“hngh,” nanami sucks his teeth, pressing his forehead against yours. his palm rests on your tummy before he gives you a tender glance. “is this . . alright?”
chewing on your lip, you moan out a, “y- yeah.” before touching the back of his hand.
nanami’s face softens before he eases himself further inside, squeezing past that cute ring of your entrance that’s just always oh-so tight!
nanami was as round as a teddy bear. a few years into your loving marriage you noticed how he started growing a soft bear-type body, especially with the winter rolling around.
not that you minded, he was the perfect subject for cuddling. in this case, though, he was perfect for gradually placing his weight on you—to which you always ended up loved.
with his dress shirt all wrinkled and unkempt thanks to you, nanami sheathed his face inside of your neck. “g- goddd, ‘s like when i’m inside i feel even hotter.”
the love curse ran through all nanami’s veins, including invading near his bloodstream and every jabbing axon that continued to pulse through his achingly, hot skin.
eventually through . . after a very long three minutes, his gravelly pants started to turn more and more raspy.
browned eyes of nanami’s turn tender at your gaze once you grab both sides of his face, rubbing circles around his hollow cheeks with the soft tips of your thumbs. “don’t hide, look at me.”
“heh- yes ma’am.” he gruffly whispers, tilting his cheek, leaning into your touch.
nanami was on top of you, glued to you entirely as if both bodies were made of pasty adhesive. with your ankle running down his back, it took everything within him to not moan.
every part — every single part of his body felt insanely sensitive to your touch.
nanami would occasionally bite his lip, finding his eyes rolling upward or even letting off a ‘phewww’ just from being a few inches inside of your intoxicating cunt.
as his cock’s driving its way inside at a slow pace, you watch nanami’s blond brows twist into a furrowing curve.
he’s sucking in every breath that tries to escape from him, groaning at each inch that sloppily disappears between your puffed folds. without even taking a glance—nanami could feel how wet you were, and not only were you preparing to milk him dry, but you were also drowning every girthy inch of his cock with all slick amounts of your pretty mess.
he didn’t have to look down because he could just feel – feel your compellingly, vulgar squelches, feel each slosh that sobs between your cunt folds, feel each pulsating throb that would convulse against your clit.
you’re just so damn pretty though..
staring back at him as he’s trying to make his way inside, nanami ends up getting lost in your gummy orifice that’s desperately clinging onto him as if its life depended on it. it’s almost cute..
“f- fuuck.” you’d whine, tugging at his ruffed-up cerulean collar. peering your eyes a bit, you see a bit of faded lipstick marks that were from you earlier this morning.
you smile to yourself, knowing nanami would always proudly show off those marks to any woman who dared look in his direction.
within a few inches deep, nanami’s creating an unforgettable gap that stretches your cunt fully open. he keeps his hooded eyes on you, pressing a few encouraging pecks near your plump, kiss-bitten lips.
he’s never felt so hot..
nanami snaps his hips into you once- just once, and he lets off the prettiest moan.
it sounds more like a whine—it pitches a bit higher than usual and he falls face flat into your chest.
you get sheepish, wrapping your arms around him before feeling him grunting between your breasts. “honey, i think i just . . came.”
“oh,” you breathe, and sure enough, you felt a lukewarm batch of cum starting to pool its way inside of you. your legs remained snaked around his waist and you could feel nanami’s ashamed pout stretch against your chest. you pat his head, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “it’s . . okay, ‘ken.” and he’s kissing all between the slope that runs down your soft tits—his comfort place.
you hum, lifting his head and watching him grumpily pout with loose blond strands running down his eyes. “i can always take the lead if you’re too sensitive.”
“please..”
♡ ♡ ♡
nanami looks up at you with a timid expression, his hands restrained at each side of the bed. gulping deeply, he watches as your slick-glossed cunt just barely floats over his creamy white tip. from the coral-colored sides, it’s a blushing pink…itching for you to be inside again.
just a single inch or the mere feeling of you swiping your entrance back ‘n forth against the peeling hood of cock makes him groan. “handcuffs, honey? this is quite…eh- kinky, no?” nanami raises an ash brow with a weary smile, soft, dusky eyes never leaving yours.
in fact—each time you run your hands down the open slit of his shirt that exposes his blond growing chest hair, he shudders.
just a few fingertips of yours alluringly ghosting down his skin was enough to make him melt. through semi-blurred peripherals, he spots a bright color that sticks against his wrists. “they’re . . pink,” he chuckles, “and fuzzy.”
“it came in the mail yesterday,” you coo at his observation, inching your face closer and starting to kiss down his neck. nanami inhales before sighing in rapture, positioning his head to the side so you could have a better angle and it’s unintentionally sexy. “it’s not too tight…is it?”
“it’s fine,” nanami shakes his head, preparing to take another deep breath once the opening of your pussy starts to sloppily split its way ajar.
you’re sinking on his shaft and he lets out a husky grumble—bulky muscles flexing through his biceps as his arms stretched across both sides of the leather headboard. “mmgh- atta girl. like that- like . . that.” and his voice seductively lowers an octave at every inch.
it was almost hypnotic at how much you were soaking him. truly, you were already soaked but now that your cunt was accepting his vast tip that was descending its way further inside of you, nanami wasn’t sure how much longer he’d last.
profusely, your pretty pussy was drowning him. nanami’s muscles continued to bulge through his shirt as he slouched back against the mattress, watching your hips starting to moderately pick up.
“s- sooo big.” you moan, the stretch wholly expanding through your walls. sometimes—you don’t think you’d ever get used to nanami’s size, let alone his thick, parting stretch.
clicking his tongue, nanami takes every second he can just to stare and openly admire your body.
effortless, you were just effortless with every moment you did.
every twirl, every toss and dip of your hips had him hungry for only more – more of you.
as your pace maintained its rocky rhythm, his eyes found themselves trailing further down, pausing between the crack of your pried-open legs.
seconds pass and they’re now leisurely making their way up your chest, pausing right between your plush rounded mounds.
you still had his business shirts as you rode him, and your tits freely sprung as your hips started to grind quicker. as your hips pathetically stuttered, so did the wooden legs of the bed. “hng- puttin’ me in handcuffs just so i can’t touch my hah- pretty wife, hm?”
nanami tries to joke, but you could already see him breaking a sweat once his cock explores deeper inside of your cunt – zigzagging a bumpy pattern all through your inside.
it’s making sure every part of you from the inside memorizes his hits, sloppy thrusts and all, and fuck- were you about to collapse right then and there.
the sides of nanami’s forehead were already heavily covered in perspiring sweat. with lush tears dribbling down every crevice and corner, nanami starts to huff.
“but baby, you always touch me,” you lively tease, tossing both arms over his tense, pent-up shoulders.
the bed lowly creaks every second, constantly dipping from all the constant movements and pounds that jolt against the rickety aged boxspring.
its constant croaky groans sounded almost painful—and the quicker your hips swerved around and bounced, the louder it cried in the background from both jerking bodies.
nanami pouts, shaking his head and you make him nod by cupping his chin. “yeah, you do.” you then surprise a part of his neck with wet, balmy kisses.
nanami gruffly grunts, desperately wishing his hands were roaming down every part of your body. tending to every part, allowing his fingers to explore every part.
he’d caress circles around your ass—guiding his callused, rough fingers up up up before they eventually reach near your waistline.
with a clingy grip, he’d start to rock your hips faster into him, making sure he pumps all nth inches deep inside until you’re babbling out incoherent cacophonies of his name and how you’re just so full..
but you noticed—nanami’s eyes were only focused on only one thing. your soft, perked breasts that bounced at the exact second your body did.
at each powerful hop and slam of your hips, they playfully jiggled, flopping against your chest. they were nearly smushed right in his face, and oh- he could feel his mouth shamefully watering at just imagining them being in his mouth.
“closer, sweetheart,” he grunts, tilting his head down since he couldn’t exactly use his hands.
you were riding him at such godly speed, swerving your hips at such frantic intervals while wetly clamping down on his cock.
nanami always filled you to the brim with all of him, poking right through your slickly dripping orifices with every bouncy thrust.
once more, it makes his head spin, but all he’s focused on is your chest that was staring straight back at him. “f- fuuuck, ‘m still h.. hot. i think- i think suckin’ on them will help me cool off, sweetheart.”
saucily cooing, you lick a stripe down his neck as your hips accelerated. as you continued to speak, your voice started to get a bit bumpy from the unsteady movement of your jouncing ass.
“oh- is that what you wanted all this time, ‘ken? to suck on these?” and he watches as you lean back, cupping your tits with the smuggest smile plastered on your lips.
your hands sneak down between your unbuttoned shirt before you silently mewl, giving them a nice good squeeze. “imagine jus’ how plumper they’d be after i have your baby, kento.”
“h.. honey- you’re lucky ‘m handcuffed.” bronze eyes trace down your skin, stopping at your perked nipples.
they were oh-so-perfect.. and as you’re straddled over his lap, nanami couldn’t help but let his mind wander just a bit. he couldn’t help but allow his mind to wander near the very lewd lobe of his brain.
the mental image of you baring his child . .
his wife, you.
nanami grunts at the thought, wordlessly gasping in multiple honed breaths at the fierce clashes of sharp skin.
your hips were disgustingly brutal, and with the way your thighs clung onto him, you were nearly akin to a magnet – forevermore sticking against nanami, never wanting to let go.
“c’mooon,” the blond playfully whines in a gruff voice, his cock stiffening inside of you. “don’t hah- make me beg, sweet girl.”
“you make me beg,” you chaff, slowing your hips down just a bit. nanami grunts at your catty truth, feeling the weight of you gradually hover before you roughly buck right into him.
using all of your core, his leaking tip smears its way against your clit in an almost pretty heart shape and you stutter out a moan.
your syllables of each broken moan were a bit choppy as you were shooting blanks, arching your back against him. even as you’re still riding him, putting all pounds of movement from your body into your sprawled knees, you kept touching yourself.
seeing you guide your hands all over your body in such a sensual way, made nanami kiss his teeth.
in envy though - those should’ve been his hands..
“allll. the. time.” you finish your sentence in a spirited whisper, whispering against the twitching left side of his ear.
each thrust becomes increasingly sloppy with your grip getting more slick ‘n wet — glossed which such sticky amounts of your tangled juices.
each squashing slop! that squelches from between the arc your legs get louder, causing your thighs to nearly clamp together from the tender stimulation.
cupping your tits again, you bring them up to nanami’s face. “go ‘head.”
“woman.. you’re evil,” nanami muffles, getting a face full of your breasts. you hold onto them tight, watching as nanami brings his face closer until he’s shoved right between them. a sweet crooning groan slithers from his lips as his tongue fervently curls its way down toward your nipple.
sloppily, you feel him casually swirling greedy circles around your pulsating gland before switching to the other one.
nanami’s lashes close as you’re still rocking your hips forward, nearly riding him into utter ‘n erotic oblivion..
at this point—you thought the bed was about to break, devastatingly snapping into two due to how good you were putting your hips to use.
“mmpf- so pretty. all mine, m- mine,” he rasps between wet slurps, his wrists still trapped in pretty pink handcuffs. the woolly fur tickles against his skin as his tongue continues to rove shapes around your nipples. “need to get these girls plump… quickly.”
your tits remained grasped in your hands as you’re moaning from nanami’s tongue, and you now start to rut into him at a much more hurried pace.
nanami hungrily drives his cock all through your core, creating a near race-track path that smothers invisible kisses all against your g-spot.
every inch, he’s fat- and his even lengthier girth nearly makes your brain short-circuit for a minute. every wild jam of your hips feels like its last, and nanami’s already drooling.
treacly, sweet saliva pours from the corners of his lips as he’s sucking on each of your tits, muffled gargled moans and whines vibrating against your tepid flesh..
your body had adapted to a more steady rhythm, but you could feel his dick eagerly twitch inside of you every few rushed seconds.
a bit of drool ends up running down his mouth, landing on his polka-dotted tie, creating a gray dampening spot. it’s cute, and you rub a thumb over his thin lips, watching his tawny, soft eyes flutter back open.
it’s the look of love- and nanami could feel himself heating up more once your gaze meets his again.
for a moment, he had completely forgotten about the dumb curse because he was too busy lost in your gaze.
but his temperature started to increase. you let off a bundle of whiny mewls once you feel him nip the top row of his teeth against your nipple.
“s- so cute,” he purrs lowly, feeling your knobbly thighs get closer and closer to giving out. just a few more thrusts and you’d probably be done for.
“mmp-” he pops out your left nipple with his swollen wet lips, glancing at you. nanami looked like he’d just run a marathon with blond strands glossing strips across his forehead. grunting, he starts to pant like a greyhound, sliding a tongue over his lips. “you’re close, honey?”
“m- mhm!” you’d reply, your voice turning raw at each straining moan that leaves from your poor chords.
his cock was massaging everywhere, it didn’t miss a single spot. it’s tip was widely turgid, angrily crimson-red, and leaking from all veiny sides while narrowly delving into you raw.
nanami’s kneading through your guts, tending to each gummy part of your entrance to make you whimper out his name. from every deep, vigorous pump that profoundly batters inside of your pussy, your eyes cross.
you’re dumbfounded—dumb in general too from the way he facilely located every sensitive spot with just the stubby tip of his shaft.
including your pretty cervix - nanami made sure his cock smacked its way there a few times.
the deep pressure pounding inside of you, greeting every single spot inside of your pussy never failed to make your knees quickly buckle.
“f- fuck, fuck there ‘ken, theretherethereee,” you start to babble, the bumps of his tip making your jaw goofily hang. “ ‘m cum- ‘m gonna cummm.”
“haah- together, sweetheart. can you . . finish with me?” nanami murmurs in a throaty voice, kissing your neck.
he tried to lift his head but got slightly pulled back from the fuzzy handcuffs.
he’s molding your insides fully with his cock, squinting a bit at the crescent-shaped moon that hides behind the violent bed curtain.
that view was nice but the view currently in front of him, riding him.. ‘curing’ him from whatever curse this was was far a better sight.
you.
with a whine preparing to squeal from your throat, you give him a nod.
nanami tilts his head, tsking impishly with his smacking lips despite how he was just as sensitive as you. “ah- you know how i feel about head nods, princess. i wanna hear those pretty words.”
“y.. yes ken, ‘kentoooo,” you moan, gasping once you feel two things at once. your stomach tightly seizing and your sloppy cunt restricting around his meaty, stocky length.
it’s so good, soso good that you softly bite into nanami’s shoulder. he hums, groaning right with you before you continue. “ ‘m cummin. ‘m fuckin’ cumming, kento.”
“i know.. i know, c’mere, girl,” he whispers, his face softening once your eyes immediately lock with him. “my sweet… girl.” his pitch lowers, and you decrease the distance between the two of you.
once again, your lips meet nanami’s but this time, it’s far more aggressive and less passionate.
it’s only one word and it’s – sloppy.
your body’s weakly rolling against him, losing its rhythm as the two of you end up finishing together, competing with each other’s inevitable high.
it all felt like a slow … rush.
as you were both drinking each other’s never-ending moans and grunts, the puddled, gooey mess began.
at the same time though, your legs ended up finally collapsing as your swollen, plump lips attacked against his - harshly.
nanami’s lips were almost competing with yours, mashing against your lips with the occasional rows teeth of teeth clash clash clashing away.
it’s loud, sloppy, messy..
the peppermint taste that still lingers in his mouth travels against your buds and you moan. nanami groans, spraying a geyser of bittersweet strips of hot cum inside of you as both tongues continue to explore each other’s mouths.
it’s a straight shot—it travels deep, introducing your womb with a fresh amount of cum as you end up letting go at the same time.
both sets of hearts fluttered as you pressed against his chest, racing frantic beats per minute as you melted the dozenth kiss he presented to your lips.
it’s hot- nanami’s rawly plunging into you as you whine against his lips, barely feeling your hips rutting into him anymore.
you’re just straddling him now – yet he’s still plugging you full with such massive inches of cock, with the addition of his creamy, gloopy seed that drizzles a sloppy white ring around his base.
your fingers wisp down his undercut, as he continues to quietly ravage your walls. it was a slick, slimy knot that buries itself deep inside of your pussy.
you’re moaning, slowly breaking away from his mouth that had strings of saliva clinging near the bottom of his glossed lip. panting heavily, you crane your head, taking a quick peek down at your ass.
it’s a mess, and as his carmine-colored tip slips out of you, it lightly smacks against his tummy.
ribbons of cum paint near the very undersides of your thighs, pouring out between your syrupy slit in such a slow yet filthy manner. time nearly stood still, and nanami went silent, staring at the gooey wads ‘n wads buttery cum that oozes out of your pretty, fluttering cunt.
“are you okay?” nanami sighs, feeling you reach for the handcuff key that rests near the rosy nightstand. you remove them, and he twirls his wrists in a circle before looking at you with kind eyes.
“ ‘m okay.” you reassure him, cupping his face and kissing the right side of his cheek.
nanami’s exhausted—especially after how good you just rode him.
your dripping cunt hovers against his happy trail and sheeny clenched abs as he lazily lies back, finally grabbing your hips. “good . . good,” and with a huff, he sheepishly smiles. “i guess i . . hah- failed no nut november, huh.”
“eh- there’s always next year,” you bring a chaste, sweet kiss to his quivering, pouty lips.
♡ ♡ ♡
surrounded by nothing but bodies of water featuring sods of glittery clear bubbles, you now found yourself lying against nanami’s broad chest. burly, swole arms envelope around your body as the two of you were in the ivory, spacious bathtub. as the water ran against your skin, soothing your aching muscles—you let off a sigh once he finished washing you off.
“i think it wore off,” his warm voice tickles against your skin. nanami kisses down your nape, reaching near the side of the tub where a bowl of fresh muscat grapes lies. tearing a few off the vine, he brings them toward your lips. “the curse . . pollen, whatever it was.”
“mmpf- did it?” you eat from his hand, feeling his wet palm softly rub against your chin. the smell of rich jasmine hits your nostrils as you let off a satisfied hum at the sugary sweet flavor. nanami’s body held you close, feeling your damp body lightly plop against his chest. you feel a bit of his chest hair land against your skin before you swallow. “do you still feel hot?”
nanami pops another grape into your mouth, then into his. “no, sweetheart. i’m fine now, thanks to you,” and you feel his left arm hook around your waist. the blond reclines back against the tub’s icy marble-made wall before sighing. “how do you feel, though? any cramps or body aches i should be aware of?”
with a content suspire drifting away from your parted lips, you move a bit in the calm, lukewarm water — closer toward the back of his chest.
“i’m okay, kento. althooough,” and you give him a playful nudge. “my legs still feel sore.”
“forgive me, honey,” nanami rests his chin against your shoulder. there was a bit of jest in his tone, and you could hear him trying not to snicker.
again, always the gentleman though.
“i’ll give you a massage once we get out of the tub, my treat.” and you let off a sigh, feeling him creep a few fingers up your thigh.
“hmm, okay,” you comply with a sight sigh, sneaking a kiss near the edge of his lips. nanami blinks thrice, his face flushing a bit before you cup his face with wet hands.
“i was serious you know. about . . what i said earlier. us settling down and–,” and nanami deeply stares into your eyes as you speak.
you rub a wet thumb against his sharp cheekbone before continuing, abruptly cutting your cute rambling short, ending with a sincere, “i love you, kento.”
tilting his head against your palm, leaning into your embrace, nanami brings you toward him before kissing the crown of your head. “and i love you more,” and as you felt butterflies party in the lower pits of your stomach, nanami brings your hand up to his lips.
gently, he aligns his mouth perfectly near your fourth digit before giving you another kiss, this time—on your ring finger. “mrs. nanami.”
but oh- he wasn’t done..
as you’re feeling a wave of tenderness overwhelm your heart, nanami leans a bit down before kissing the center part of your tummy that drips with teary droplets.
his wetly compressed lips give it a quick peck and ‘mwah’ before keeping his head lowered. “i love her too.” you raise a brow, glancing as nanami’s chin hovers over the bubbles of water.
“her?” you lift a brow as he whispers multiple ‘i love you’s’ against your stomach as if he was already talking to something – or someone..
“yes, her,” nanami repeats, giving your tummy one more kiss before sitting back up, rubbing his palm over the center of your belly.
looking up at you, he notices your confused expression and smiles to himself. “oh, just a little hunch,” and you gasp once nanami picks you up softy, carrying you out the wet tub, the both of you soaking wet.
“now, how about that massage? i’m quite good with my hands, especially when it comes to my woman.”
#★vegasbaby.#nanami smut#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami kento smut#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#female reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujustsu kaisen x reader
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Know You're Enough
Toji can't ignore the sounds of your moans and whimpers through the wall. He's sitting on the couch, in the living room, unable to do anything about it, because you're still mad at him, and he's frustrated as hell, because he's so painfully hard, that he can see his dick twitching against the front of his sweats. He refuses to take care of it himself when he knows you're only a room away. To his convenience, you're already in the mood—clearly—but to his inconvenience, you're punishing him. You're scattering his name into your moans to throw salt in the wound, to really make it unbearable, and truthfully, it's getting to him.
Toji reached his limit when he heard you let out a sharp gasp, followed by the sound of those cries you let out when you cum hard. He strides over to your shared bedroom, opening the door to reveal your naked lower body, and your tank top scrunched up over your chest. His breath hitches, the throbbing in his pants intensifying as he rakes his eyes over your frame and absorbs the entire sight of you.
"You're really gonna get yourself off to the thought of me, when i'm right outside?" His incredulous tone doesn't do a good job of hiding the desperation that led him to barge into the room where you're splayed out so indecently.
"Mhm..." you hum, blissfully. You release a heavy, satisfied sigh. "That's exactly what I just did, 'cause you're on a time out," you say, tugging your shirt back down and pulling up your underwear, before sitting up to search for your shorts. "Don't worry. I finished. I'm done torturing you."
He can't let it be over. This normally wouldn't be enough to satisfy you. From what he heard, it seems like you only came once.
"Baby, no," he almost whines. He's outwardly desperate for you, having gone way too long without being allowed to touch you intimately. "Let me. Please," he says, climbing onto the bed. His hands make contact with the skin of your bare legs and glide over the length of your shins, continuing their way up to part your thighs to make room for him to wedge himself between them.
"I did what you asked of me. Said I was sorry and repeated after you to call myself dumb." It was such a silly moment that made the storm in your mind subside for a minute or two.
Toji resists the urge to smile when he sees you suppressing the curl of your own lips. His hands go to your waist, not stopping there. The warmth of his palms travels up your edges, meeting the sides of your breasts and briefly palming the tops of them, in order to get to your shoulders. He grips your shoulders, using them as leverage to guide you back down to the bed. Focus is embedded into his features as he takes the thin material of your shirt between his rough fingertips and peels it off your skin until he reveals the gorgeous view of one of his favorite parts of your body.
Like a domestic cat, he lays his body on you, and plants his face between your breasts. It doesn't take long for him to begin appreciating your chest, pressing multiple slow kisses to your skin. He's basking in the softness you withheld from him.
"What else do you want from me, doll?"
You let out a small, quiet sigh, through your nose. You feel a little irritated with yourself for not even putting up a fight against his affection. You always say you're not going to let him touch you for a certain amount of time, as punishment for the dumb things he does, and yet somehow it always ends up this way—him nuzzling into your chest.
"I want you to stop being a jealous maniac," you say, the words coming out softer than you intended them to, as you welcome defeat and run your fingers through his soft, dark locks.
"Mm-mm, anything but that," he responds, muffled by your warm skin. His hands caress your body, rubbing your waist and massaging your hips in a manner that would induce relaxation under different circumstances. You can't let yourself fall into that comfort until you've talked things out.
"Toji, you flashed your gun at someone who mistook me for somebody else." You attempt to keep yourself composed in order to communicate the issue efficiently. There's no need to raise your voice when you have him right there, lying comfortably on your chest.
"Mhm, I did that," Toji confirms, before planting a soft kiss on the inner side of your right breast. "The dickwad must have been real blind if he had to get so close." He feels your chest rise with a deep inhale, then hears you let out the breath. With that, he knows you're still upset and he has to further elaborate on his actions. "He had his filthy paws on you and everything. I did what I thought was best to get him to fuck off."
You hum in mere acknowledgment. "Uh-huh, that's definitely the way to go about it. God forbid you verbalize your discomfort before threatening to use a bullet."
You feel a warm puff of air on your chest, similar to the sigh you let out, but less audible, and then a kiss directly between your breasts.
"I was right next to you, ma. He was looking at you in a way that he shouldn't have been. He looked at you the same way that I look at you. You don't need that from anyone else. And that stupid ass thing he said about supposedly feeling like he's seen you somewhere? He clearly said it to get a good look at you from up close."
"You really are insane, aren't you?" You ask, rhetorically, stilling the hand that's on the back of his head.
"Doll, I hate the idea of pulling the gun out in front of you. I don't ever wanna have to use it and scare you in the process, but he was actively trying to steal you from me. If he were just ogling you from afar, I might've acted differently, but he touched you. He fucking touched you. Who does shit like that?"
Toji can feel his blood boiling again, so he refocuses on your chest. He doesn't want to think about what happened anymore, when he's in his happy place, where he knows he belongs.
"Alright, Toji. Take a deep breath." You softened your voice to simmer down his emotions. You resumed the movement of your fingers carding through his hair, aiding him in calming down more.
He does as you say and releases a heavy breath. It's riddled with his discontented feelings. "You're supposed to be mine," he mumbles, before finally latching his lips around your nipple.
Toji needs reassurance, too. Him being an attractive, enormous, hulking man, has nothing to do with how secure he feels around you, his lover. It's easy to think that because he manages to turn heads wherever he goes, that he'll be fine when you get those same reactions, but the way you have him now, is proof that insecurity can reach even him. He needs to know that he's not going to lose you so easily, especially to someone as ridiculous as the man who managed to unsettle him.
You look down at him as he takes all the comfort he needs from your chest. "I'm all yours, Toji. You're the only one who will ever get a pass for that kind of psychotic behavior."
He hums, releasing your breast, before resting the side of his face down on your chest. "You make it sound like i'm toxic towards you."
Your chest jumps as you laugh, a gesture that makes Toji lift his gaze to look at you. Your expression managed to make him lighten up a little more.
"You're crazy, but I love you, regardless."
He groans, the sound cushioned by your soft skin. You're the one thing that holds up his sanity, yet somehow you're also the one who tests it by saying things like that to him.
"Let me have you," he says, his kisses beginning to trail up, towards your neck. "Please, let me have you, mama."
"Are you gonna keep threatening people when you get jealous?" You ask, your lips curling as be continues to kiss your delicate skin.
"Mhm," he confirms. "Like I said and you said," he speaks, into your neck, "you're mine. If people don't know it, i'll make sure they get it on the first go. There's no need to make mistakes."
You laugh. "Your possessiveness is intense."
"You're not a joke, to me," he says, looking at you. His expression is as serious as what he just said.
You grab the rolled up fabric of your shirt, with the intention of covering yourself. The ambience has gone more serious and it feels wrong to be so exposed in the moment.
"Don't cover yourself, yet. I want you, baby. Please." His knuckles graze your cheek, affectionately. Despite your chest being out on full display, his attention is centered on your face. He's reading your expression. You were laughing a few seconds ago and now you're as still as him.
"Be nice to me. I don't want you to be rough, this time." It's back to back gentleness with the way your voice reaches him and your smile manages to soothe the remaining sting he's feeling. It's like you're showing him the way you want him to handle you. "I'm yours, Toji. No amount of speed or aggression from your body against mine, will have an impact on the fact. Okay?"
He keeps his eyes on you for a couple more seconds, like he's letting your words sink in and fully envelop him. He repositions his hand, so that he's cupping your cheek, and a couple slow strokes of his thumb against your skin gave him the courage to lean down and kiss you. The second his lips meet yours, he wants more. Infinitely more. He's chasing kiss after kiss from you, utterly drunk on the feeling of your hands pulling him closer by his shirt. He'll consume you, at this point.
"Hm?" You hum, still awaiting his response.
"Got it, baby," he says, before connecting his lips to yours once more. He peppers the rest of your face with kisses, luring giggles from you at the barrage of affection.
This isn't the first time Toji has been revoked of his 'you privileges', and gotten them back, instantly. This has occurred many times in the years that you've been together. Going into a relationship with him, you never thought he'd be the jealous type, much less the type who would threaten someone's life over getting overly cozy with you. The first time he pulled something similar to this, it was a little frightening. You knew he kept a gun on him sometimes, but you figured it was strictly for life or death situations.
You were wrong.
Some weirdo was getting too comfortable with you, hand wrapped around your wrist and all. You clearly remember Toji being visibly bothered, because someone thought they could just swoop in and steal your focus from him. He watched for a minute or two as the man took in your beauty and complimented you on every aspect of your appearance. He really did his best to get you to follow him to his table, and though Toji thought the whole thing was a pathetic attempt, he couldn't help the feelings that began to bubble up as the man squeezed your arm. Toji did a dog whistle to grab the man's attention, and when he looked, he lifted his shirt, just enough to show the grip of his gun. Your stomach twisted and you felt like your heart was going to lurch out of your chest. The stranger just stood there for a second, looking at Toji, condescendingly, as if to insinuate that he knew he was bluffing, and when Toji reached for and grabbed ahold of the gun's handle, that same cocky man paled. He didn't even have to pull out the whole gun—the man had walked away by the time he had the grip in his hand— but you remained worried that he would notify someone about what happened, so you and Toji left.
To this day, Toji still scares people that way when he notices them invading your space in a manner that doesn't sit right with him. You're not scared anymore, when he does it, but the frustration of having to ditch wherever you are, in fear of being ratted out by whoever Toji threatened? It's still there, and you feel it every time. You know he does it out of love for you, but sometimes you wish he would take a second to talk to you, before he even thinks of hurting someone.
Toji has kissed your entire torso, by now. Your chest wasn't exempt from his attention, despite the amount of time he already spent on it. If anything, he refined the love he gave it with purposeful movement and significance towards every spot his lips brushed.
He nears your lower abdomen, wet kisses placed beneath your navel, going lower and lower until you can feel his breath being filtered through the front of your underwear. His hands go beneath the elastic band, cupping your hips without restriction as he kisses your clothed pelvis.
Your breathing picks up the slightest bit when his lips meet your slit through the thin layer. His tongue comes out and he does an experimental swipe of it against the fabric. You feel the space immediately heat up, from your arousal and from the warm wetness of his tongue, itself.
"Stay still for me, mama," he murmurs, kissing your inner thighs after spotting the quiver in them. "You nervous?" He asks, with a small curl of his lips.
"Of course, I am." You look into his eyes as you confirm it. You love him so dearly, that even after the years you've spent together, you still feel lightning coursing through you when he has you this way. This electric feeling doesn't prevent you from letting yourself enjoy what he gives you, nor does it hinder you from touching him and making him feel good. You don't become more hesitant towards him, because by now, you're well aware that your love for him coexists with butterflies. They reside in you, and are able to be lured out by him at any instant, despite your knowledge of the fact that he would gladly be someone's cause of death if they don't keep themselves in check around you.
"Love you," he says, kneading your hips as he leans in to press a few more warm kisses to your thinly veiled cunt. His eyes dart up to your face when you don't respond—he's a little lost on why you didn't say it back— until he sees how despite the way you just admitted to your nerves, he has you entirely at ease. You have a hand flat on the sheets, occasionally moving against the material beneath it, while your other hand rests on your stomach. Your chest is steady and your attention is on the ceiling, your expression serene—ethereally so.
His hands run down your hips, warm palms squeeze and feel up your thighs, gaining your eyes on him again. "You're not gonna say it back?" He asks, his voice deep enough to make the ache between your legs just that much more intense.
"You already know I do," you say, contrasting his demeanor with a giggle. He looks like a needy puppy with that glint that presents itself in his eyes.
"Mhm, doesn't mean I don't wanna hear it, again, or do you not love me, right now?"
You're caught by surprise with that one, a small, almost inaudible gasp, leaving you at the words. "I love you all the time, Toji. I love you now and I loved you earlier when I was pissed. It's not going away."
He's a little more impatient for you, now. His movement doesn't speed up, but his heartbeat is in his ears, and there's a tremble in his hands as he reaches for the elastic of your underwear. He pulls the garment down, wanting to smell and taste you more clearly. His cock jumps at the sight revealed. You're still so wet. He lets out a shuddered breath, now that your lower half is completely bared for him. His mouth comes closer and closer and his tongue comes out, making contact with your throbbing cunt for the first time.
"Toji." The sound is soft—unexaggerated—as his tongue laps at your warmth, tasting the sweet wetness that coats it. He could stay like this for hours, worshipping your entire body, while you touch him and gift him the prettiest sounds ever. He can't get enough of you, which is why when it looks like you're going to close your legs, he pins them down, entirely. His hands splay over your thighs and he keeps them there, because he isn't going to fight to give you the pleasure you deserve. He'll love on you until your body is begging him to stop, because he knows that your mouth can be misleading, at times.
He's taking it slow, just like you wanted him to. The most stimulation comes from him lightly sucking on your clit for brief moments at a time, just to hear your moans get the slightest bit louder. Every time he releases your sensitive pearl, he goes back to running his tongue through your drooling slit, the tip of the muscle nudging your clit, causing it to throb with need. Each graze of the wet warmth, makes you wonder if you should ask him to go faster, though you were the one who asked for this gentleness. You don't want to seem indecisive or come off as doubtful that he can make you cum this way. You know he can, but god, you want so much more. You feel like you're the one who's going insane with every flick of his tongue.
"That good, mama? Or do you want it slower?" He gives you a teasing smirk. Toji knows how you are. You say you want him to be soft and gentle with you, but when the time comes, you want more than what's given to you. You delve into greediness as seconds turn to minutes. You both have nowhere to be. Time is yours, and Toji intends to take advantage of that. He's going to fulfill your needs the way you want him to, but that doesn't mean he loses awareness of your little ticks. He feels the small twitches of your legs beneath his hands every time you feel his nose bump into your clit just before it gets hit by his tongue. He sees the way your hips sink into the mattress and your body quivers when they rise, again.
"G-Good. Don't go any slower," you respond, holding your voice as steady as possible.
"Mm... Faster?" He asks, his tone so calm yet sultry, that you can't tell if he's patronizing you. He doesn't miss the way light flashes, briefly, through your features. In an instant, you regain your composure. A simple hum is offered in response—a wordless brush off of his suggestion. The sound makes Toji smirk. How stubborn of you.
"I won't hold it against you," he says, pressing a kiss to the crease that joins your pelvis and your thigh, leaving an echoing feeling of need in your core. "Just say the word, ma." He presses more kisses to your skin, as if he's trying to persuade you to let him devour you.
"Mm-mm, this is good."
It's not what he's trying to get out of you, but he can keep going until you're hanging on by a measly thread.
He continues on with that same pace—licking, suckling, prodding—so gently, luring the cutest little mewls from you. It took a little longer, but eventually, your body started trembling with impending release.
"I'm gonna- Toji," you cry, tightening your fists around the sheets as he slowly circles his tongue over your clit, focusing on it entirely. Your moans grow needier and needier as you near the edge through such delicateness. The anticipation is killing him. He wants you to be louder. You wouldn't hate him for bringing you more pleasure, would you? It's a risk he's willing to take.
Without another doubt, he's messily making out with your cunt, causing more of your sweet nectar to drool out at a more rapid pace. Your breath hitches, a sharper rendition of his name cried out. Your hand reaches downward and grabs a fistful of his hair, tugging on it as he continues to ravage you. Your moans sound absolutely filthy. He doesn't detach his mouth from you for a single second. His hands finally release their pin on your thighs, allowing you to fully suffocate him when they shut around his head. His arms hook around your thighs, a harsh grip on them to keep you from scooting away from his relentless mouth when you cum. It's another strong, orgasm, that has you arching your back off the mattress and squirming as he continues devouring you through the intense sensation. Your hips roll in an attempt to get more of his mouth on you. Only when you start whimpering and attempting to twist out of his hold, does he ease up. He goes back to the original pace, soft kitten licks through your slit to lap up every drop of your sweetness, earning small twitches from your body, due to the sensitivity you feel.
You release the hold you have on his hair and relax your legs, unbending them and letting them fall comfortably on the bed. He finishes you off with a few kisses, thin strings of his saliva and your cum sticking to his lips, before snapping every time he loses contact with your cunt. His warm palms caress your thighs—a comforting gesture, as your sounds come to a halt and all that is heard is your breathing.
"You're so impatient," you playfully chide, a breathy laugh following.
"You wanted more," he responds, one more kiss placed on you before he licks his lips clean. "I'm really good at reading you."
"Yeah? You think so?" You ask, a teasing grin on your face.
"I know so," he responds. "Wouldn't it just be the worst if we've been together this long, and I didn't know almost everything about you, by now?" He repositions himself, now sitting on his knees to start ridding himself of his own clothes.
You manage a hum and a nod as you watch Toji pull off his shirt.
"Good thing that's not the case, and I do know basically everything about you. Down to the way your body reacts to me— the signals you create that let me know you're gonna cum all over my tongue, when your pretty mouth can't form words."
"So vulgar," you say, through flustered giggles.
"You can take it, mama," he teases, a smirk growing on his lips as you watch him pull off his sweats. His eyes stay on yours, as he kicks them off, letting them slide off the bed and onto the floor, before crawling back between your legs. You can feel his clothed hard-on pressing against your core as he takes your lips in his again. He's addicted to the feeling of your warm body against his.
His hands come down to cup your waist, his fingers molding into the soft flesh with every squeeze they offer. He pauses the make out, small breaths leaving him.
"Baby," he says, his voice almost a whisper, his lustfully darkened eyes narrowed on your starry ones. "I'm gonna kill the next person who hits on you in front of me." He goes back in for a few more quick kisses. "I'm not joking. I can't keep sparing them."
"Shh... All yours, Toji," you murmur, softly, pulling him back in to continue the flow of kisses. Your hand goes to the nape of his neck, the other settles on his shoulder. You hear him groaning quietly into the kisses as he continues grinding his hips into yours.
"Fuck, doll," he groans, pausing his lips on yours once again. "I need you."
You laugh, a warm sound that just adds on to his desire to have you. "So, take me, baby. I'm ready for you."
He gives you one more peck, the slyest smirk playing on his lips as he watches you lean forward for another one, only to be met with nothing.
"Ass," you grumble, playfully shoving his chest.
He chuckles, a deep rumble of a sound as he sits back to remove his boxers. He's not even ashamed of the mess of precum that accumulated in them. If anything, he's surprised he was able to hold in his load this entire time. Pleasantly surprised, because every drop will go to you, as always.
One minute you're sitting up to fully remove your shirt, pulling it up over your head, the next, in what seems like a flash, you're pushed back onto the bed, hands pinned above your head.
You giggle, looking up at him with a lingering smile. "Gentle."
"Mhm," he hums, leaning down to kiss your neck. "So gentle." Two misleading words that don't prepare you for the sensation of his teeth sinking into the crook of your neck.
Your bubbly laughter homes into his ears when his tongue runs over the indentations, luring a huff of a laugh from him.
You feel his cock run through your slick folds, his hips moving back and forth, slowly. Quiet breaths fill the silence that takes over the intimate moment. Toji runs his length through your slit one more time, before finally pushing his tip in. You gasp, feeling his cock begin to drive into you.
"F-Fuck, baby, let me touch you."
"In a minute." He sounds so calm and collected, but you can feel the grip he has on your wrists tighten and the bluntness of his nails pressing into your skin.
"No. Please."
"In a minute," he repeats.
"Pretty please?"
"You're so conflicting, mama. Love that you're begging, but at the same time, you're not listening." His hips draw back and thrust right back into you, his cock filling you up entirely, again.
"Oh fuck. Okay. Please, Toji," you whine.
Toji hums dismissively and picks up a rhythm that manages to get you to stop thinking about your pinned wrists. He lures soft, little moans out of you, listening closely as he plants warm, wet kisses on the side of your face, from your temple to your jaw.
"Just let me be good to you, baby. Alright?"
You hum, nodding your head.
"Yes?"
"Please, yes."
His thrusts become even more precise as he focuses on bringing pleasure to both of you, deep groans and grunts blending together with your higher pitched moans. A few minutes pass and you feel the pressure on your arms ease up, your hands free to roam without restriction. The first thing you do is cup his jaw and bring him in for breathy kisses. You keep your hands on his face and he lets you turn his head in every which way to cover him with kisses. Your affection is intoxicating, and he can't get enough of it. He lets out a breathy laugh when you practically have a make out session with the scar on his lips, your melodic sounds of pleasure released against the strike as he continues to fuck into you. The last kiss you leave on the cicatrix is a big one. One that makes the obnoxious kissy sound and everything. He swipes his tongue over his scar, as if he's trying to catch remnants of the sugar you coated it with.
"Love you," you say, eyes darting over his handsome features and the lovestruck expression they create. You feel the way his hips stutter against you, his abs tensing with restraint before he recomposes himself. You glide your hands up and down his arms and repeat yourself for him. "Love you so much, Toji. I'm yours."
"Fuck— I fucking love you. You're all mine. My baby." He mutters more inaudible curses under his breath, his grip on your waist getting harsher and his thrusts growing quicker, with every sweet confirmation you offer. You whimper, nails digging into his biceps as you withstand the feeling of his cock relentlessly brushing that spot within you that makes you melt beneath him.
"Oh fuck, i'm close." He groans, feeling the way your walls spasm around him at the words. "Yeahhh, you want it, huh, baby? Want my cum?"
A shaky breath leaves you, your face observed up close and personal by Toji, through lust-brimmed, enamored, obsessed eyes. You squirm under all of him— his zoned in attention on you, his touch, his hot, tacky skin, his cock buried inside you—dragging in and out of your soft walls, in a manner that has your toes curling to the brink of actual pain. His fingers find your clit and rub it in rapid circular motions, causing your body to jolt at the sudden intensity of the enhanced pleasure.
You look up at him with your sparkling eyes. "Please... P-Please, Toji? I want it. Want you," you utter, as he brings you closer to your own orgasm.
"Fuck, okay. Okay, baby, gonna give it all to you." His hips pick up their pace a little more and he buries his face into your neck. You can hear the string of grunts and shuddered breaths that pair with his unraveling, right beneath your ear. Deep moans and pants flow past his lips, and his nails begin to leave crescent shapes on your sides. You feel his hot breath on your neck, the open mouthed puffs of air accompanied by the lewd sounds of him filling you with his warm, creamy cum. As he continues rutting into you, riding out every second of his orgasm and then some to get every last drop of his cum into you, he bites your delicate skin, the placement only a few centimeters above where he bit you the first time. He stays there for a few seconds, breathing heavily through his mouth and nose, before he loosens his bite, the gesture transitioning to sloppy kisses over the wet, saliva-coated indentations.
"Cum, doll," Toji mutters, feeling the way your cunt flutters around him when his fingers relocate your throbbing bundle of nerves. Your head sinks back into the pillow, allowing him to drag his kisses up the column of your neck, to feel the vibration of your sounds beneath his lips. Your nails go to his shoulders, dragging across the toned area of muscles, surely leaving behind some scratches. You cry out in utter bliss, your force of an orgasm echoing through your entire being. "There you go, mama," Toji purrs, in response to your body releasing the tension that came with the intensity of your pleasure. You tremble, your small, rapid whimpers and breaths evolving into full blown, unholy moans. "So, so pretty," he drawls out, engraving yet another one of your euphoric expressions into his memory. His fingers leave your clit, and his hips slow down to the point of merely grinding into you, to lure those final little whines out, before stilling entirely.
You shut your eyes to focus on calming your heaving chest for a few seconds, and when you open them again, you have the prettiest pair of green eyes staring down at you. You give Toji a lazy smile and a laugh, a sight that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside. His heart races as he absorbs the visuals of your post-orgasm haze. Your luminous eyes devour him, that little satisfied smirk on your face is everything— god, he loves that you laugh even more at the way he can't stop staring at you.
Just like that, Toji is reminded of what got this sight revoked from him in the first place. He still doesn't feel like he's in the wrong for wanting to murder anyone who has far from just friendly intentions with you, but as you caress his face and hold his gaze with that tender look in your eyes, his desire to kill those who openly lust after you, becomes entirely justified in his mind. He's lost all reason to hold back. There's no longer any part of him that would feel remorse or guilt, even if you can't look him in the eyes for days after the matter. He'll grovel as much as he has to, to get you to give him your eyes, again. You'll just have to agree to disagree on this, because yes, you come home to him, you sleep in the same bed as him, you kiss and hold him, the body concealed by your clothes is a secret between you and him, you get tangled up in sheets with him and the lot of it— but he can't risk losing you to someone who's possibly better than him and searching for all the exact things you have to offer. You're for him, as he is for you.
Toji doesn't care how clingy he appears when you finish getting cleaned up and ready for bed. You carelessly toss yourself onto the mattress and pull the blanket over your body while you wait for Toji, who took the steps and walked around the bed to make it to his side. He finds your body beneath the covers and immediately rolls on top of you, adhering himself to you, again. His head rests on your chest, his arms wrapped tight around your body.
You're already prepared to give him the intimate aftercare that comes with days like this. You don't mind that he's heavy and that he's crushing you or that he's taking up all your space, again, after having been so close to you a little while ago. You'll do this as many times as you need to for him to understand that he's wanted and loved by you.
You press a kiss to the top of his head, and murmur a quiet 'love you'. Your fingers run through his damp hair, your nails gently scratching the back of his head, while your other hand rubs his back. You feel the extra warm skin of his shoulders, where you paid no mind to the pressure your nails applied on it, earlier.
"Does that hurt?" You ask, lightly tracing a couple of the mildly inflamed lines. He hums in denial, but you let up, anyway, and continue to just rub his back.
He groans quietly at your soothing touch, nuzzling further into you. "I'm yours, too, ma. All yours," he mumbles. "I don't want anyone else and I don't wanna see you with anyone else."
You smile softly at his admission. "You're more than enough for me, Toji. There's no one I want more than you— no, there's no one I want other than you," you correct. "You know how much I love you?"
"Mm... How much?" He asks, waiting for you to give him a number or even just an elongated 'so much', but instead, you surprise him with:
"I wouldn't be able to tell you."
He chuckles. "Really?"
"Yeah, really. If you want something accurate, I'll never shut up."
"Good thing I like when you talk my ear off. You wanna give me an inaccurate idea of how much?"
You hum like you're in thought, a giggle following when he pinches your waist, encouraging you to tell him. "I love you a lot, Toji. So much more than I will ever be able to say or show. We would have to conjoin our minds for you to understand exactly how much I love you, but even then, once our minds separate, your estimate will be entirely off again."
He lifts his head off your chest, and waits for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. The moonlight seeping through the spaces between the curtains is the only source of light that allows him to get a mediocre view of you. "That's inaccurate?" He asks, looking at you with clear disbelief when his eyes finally adjust. You nod, smiling through the warmth that spread on your cheeks. "Now, I wanna know how much you love me, with complete accuracy. I have all the time in the world to listen to you, baby. Just keep talking to me." He presses a kiss to your cheek before lying back down on your chest and wrapping his arms around you, again.
You hugged him as tight as you could for a few seconds. The sound of you straining yourself made him laugh, because not only did he not let out a single groan, but you tired yourself out even more. You rested your arms on his back and just shut your eyes. It was the warmth and weight of his body on you, the feeling of his arms keeping you firmly against him, the security, that managed to lull you to sleep. Toji dozing off was simpler than that, because all he needs to be able to sleep soundly, is for you to be around.
#toji#toji fushiguro#toji smut#toji fluff#jujutsu toji#jjk toji#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fushiguro x you#fushiguro toji x reader#jujutsu kaisen toji#fushiguro toji#toji x reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk smut
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Can't Touch Me (Like Gojo) - G.S.
Synopsis. In which intentionally making your fríend-with-benefíts jealous ends up with more benefits than you’d think.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, FWḂ! Gojo, slight Sukuna x reader, rough VERY jealous séx, Satoru goes feraI omg, unprotected, FWḂ-to-lovers, thígh riding, fíngering, creampíe, overstím, spítting, implied thréesome, he’s a bit mean and possessive, swearing.
Word count. 4.8k
A/N. Heheh, hoping y’all have a lovely week coming up <3
“-n’ there’s this really great café downtown with those cupcakes you like-”
“Toru.”
“-I’ll get ya some for that kick you need after a lecture with Yaga. Speaking of Yaga-”
“Toru-”
“-he’s the one in need of a kick. I swear, that man gave me a B on my presentation just because I caught him in the middle of his interpretive dance routine-”
“Satoru!”
At this, Satoru pauses in the middle of buckling up his jeans to throw a grave nod your way. “I know, right?” Promptly sauntering over to pick up his t-shirt from where it had been thrown onto your bedroom floor, “It gave me nightmares for a few days, too. Which is why we should go to that café tomorrow and then…”
You roll your eyes - partially out of frustration, partially out of necessity to rip your stare away from those sculpted shoulders on display. Decorated in angry, red scratches running down, down, down. Somehow, you manage to grit out, “Satoru I have a uh- date.”
And ah, was it a sight to behold - because, perhaps for the first time in the twenty-something years that Gojo Satoru has wreaked havoc on this planet, he’s stunned into silence.
Still very groggy from sleep, still very sinfully shirtless standing at the foot of your bed. His kiss-bitten lips fall slack as you plow on, “And it’s just- I can’t make it tomorrow night because he invited me to his party.”
Party? This was the first time you canceled one of your…appointments with your friend-with-benefits - and it was for some party? Satoru could do parties, too - much better ones than this loser, he’s sure. Ones that would actually warrant you bailing on him.
Shaking away the strange thoughts ringing in his mind, he spits, “Who?” Just about all he could get out now.
Whoever he was - it was true about the parties. Why would you want to waste any time going to something like that when Satoru was the one known for them on campus. Him and Suku-
“It’s Sukuna.”
“Oh.”
---
It was stupid - it was ridiculous. And you don’t know why Sukuna ever agreed to this scheme, but here you were, glued to his side like his favorite lil’ plaything for the night.
“What?” you shout for the nth time tonight, scooting closer on the couch. And you see his lips move, yet, to your frustration - despite being seated so flush against you - no sound comes out of them.
Whatever they say about Sukuna and Satoru’s parties were true - and then some. Because right now, it was so loud you could barely hear yourself think, let alone whatever Sukuna was talking about. Heaving out a sigh, you get ready to give up and suggest joining the thrumming dance floor - before, a large, soft hand glides down to your waist.
Fingers digging into the plush of your hips as Sukuna yanks you easily to plop down onto his waiting lap. Thighs strong and steady underneath yours, meeting your surprised gaze with his smug one, “This better?”
His hot breath fans the shell of your ear, sending traitorous shivers running along your spine - all the way down to where Sukuna was resting hand right above where your tight dress was hiking up.
Involuntarily, you find yourself nodding along, “Y-yeah. Much better.”
“Good.”
Fuck, you could feel each and every rumble of his broad chest against yours as he continues the conversation like nothing happened. The faint tap! tap! tap! of Sukuna’s fingers drumming on your squirming hips to the beat of the pounding music.
And it’s really hard to forget where you are, yet it hits you like a semi-truck - five of them, in fact - when his dark eyes widen at something over your shoulders. The steady beat of his fingers halting abruptly, “Oh?”
You knew what that look meant - knew who it meant. Because, really, there was only ever one person that could command as much attention in such a hazy, packed campus party.
Dipping your head, you hastily ask, “Is he looking over at us?”
To which Sukuna finally tears his gaze away, amusement and something else so dark swirling behind his gaze when he grabs the back of your throat. Whispering against the skin, “More than looking, pretty. Satoru’s planning my funeral and dancing on my grave already.” Moving up, voice dropping to a low, low whisper, “All according to plan, of course. N’ I think…” You jolt as he bites down on your earlobe, hard. “-that we should give him a lil’ show, hm?”
You bite back a soft moan, palms smoothing over Sukuna’s pecs to steady yourself. “And just what did you have in mind?”
“A little bit of this.” he grins, eyes flickering over behind you. “A little bit of that. And some of-” Sukuna chuckles at the way you’re so responsive underneath his touch, bucking when he gives your ass a tight squeeze. Tracing right up, up, up the middle of your spine, “-this.” Lips just inches away from yours now, close. “And you get him as a new boyfriend, and I get killed for taking what I can’t have.”
You feel something soft - fleeting.
And then immediately Sukuna’s pulling away, those lips that were just barely one yours curling up into such a sly smirk, “Yo, Satoru.”
You stiffen at the name - and the burning hole being stared into your back right now - whipping your head around to be met face-to-face with a towering Satoru. Brows furrowed, biceps rippling when he crosses his arms, lips drawn tight as he hisses through his teeth, “Seems the two of you are having a lot of fun.”
Oh, were you thankful for Sukuna’s sharp mouth right about now. Because while you’re still sitting there with your mouth stupidly agape, he muses, “Mhm, a lot of fun.” Thumbing your face back towards him, “Isn’t that right, pretty?”
Fuck, those were fighting words, ones that had Satoru looming closer - practically sandwiching you between the two men.
“I’m sure she can speak for herself.” he snaps back, slender fingers circling your wrist. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
“I dunno, Toru.” And, well, maybe you were an idiot. Maybe you were a mastermind, because you only bat your lashes up at Satoru so deceivingly innocently. “Kuna here-” relishing in the way he flinches at the nickname, “-was jus’ telling me how great of a boyfriend he’d be. Right?”
The other man nods, “Since this pretty lil’ thing is single, thought I might as well take a shot.”
“Please.” Satoru was pulling you closer against him now, irritated huffs prickling waves of goosebumps across your skin. Words venomous, “Some boyfriend he’d be. I’m sure he’d do nothing other than give you weak dick and bore you to death.”
Sukuna scoffs, “Right, because yours is so much better?”
“You really think you have what it takes to satisfy this lil’ minx?”
Both men were gritting their teeth, trapping you between them. People were starting to stare now - some even pulling their phones out to start recording in case of a fight. And before the argument could escalate until that point, you catch Sukuna’s eye. Cutting off whatever next retort was on the tip of his tongue with a short, subtle shake of your head.
“Well then…” he instead purrs, grinning as if he was in on some inside joke between the two of you - on purpose, of course, just to watch Satoru’s eyes grow harder. “Guess if I’m ‘boring her to death’ then you-” Sukuna gives you a little push, nudging you towards Satoru’s chest. “-can teach her all about fun.”
Before you can react, two strong arms are looping your waist, helping you stand up - and pulling you clean off of Sukuna’s lap.
You’re hit with Satoru’s expensive, heady cologne - and his chest against your back, rock-hard, chest thumping wildly. You blink up at that uncharacteristically clenched jaw, “Toru?”
Now, you’ve seen him moody, you’ve seen him irritated - but never to this extent. Positively fuming, teeth grit, jolting at the mere sound of your voice as if his whole body was hit with a wave of electricity. Like some hidden, primal part of himself was being poked so dangerously awake when you softly intertwine your fingers with his. All gentle against his almost bruising hold, you question, “Are you alri-”
You don’t get to finish the question, because all it takes is another slow, leering grin flashed at you from Sukuna before Satoru mutters, gravelly. “Excuse us, then. I must have a talk with my woman.”
Starting to walk in long, fast strides upstairs - with you all stumbling and trying to keep up behind him.
Urgent. Dangerous.
“Extra room’s unlocked, you two!” you hear Sukuna call out after the both of you. And the last sight you see of him is when he mouths a silent “You’re welcome.”. One hand flashing you a thumbs up, the other adjusting the crotch of his pants. “Have fun.”
Satoru only clicks his tongue, moving very purposefully towards where Sukuna’s bedroom was instead.
“Woah- Toru, slow down.” you yelp, out of breath at his ruthless pace. But of course, since this is Satoru, he won’t have it any way other than stopping immediately in his tracks. Turning briefly around to you - only to wrap two arms around your waist, throwing you so easily over his shoulder like some ragdoll. Large palms tugging down the hem of your ass as he continues walking. “Y-you’re so-”
So what? Mean? Jealous? Playing right into your hands?
You don’t even know - nor do you really care, because Satoru finally reaches his destination.
“Fuck- here.” he spits.
Slam!
The door is flung open so hard it almost rattles off its hinges - and you aren’t faring any better. Because no sooner has Satoru stepped inside, he’s throwing you onto the king-sized bed in the middle of the room.
The mattress dips as he slowly makes his way up to you, your legs quiver at how much he just looked like a man starved - eyes half-lidded and crazed, hair ruffled. Having finally found a full meal in years. Darkly eyeing down the way you’re splayed out like such a slut on the mattress, dress hiking up with each bounce at the sheer force of his throw.
“So-” Satoru’s fingers reach out to lazily unbuckle the straps of your heels. Lingering much more than necessary. “-got anything to say?”
You bite your lower lip, holding back a delighted grin while his hands dance up your thigh to fiddle with that garter you knew he’d love. Slow. Agonizingly slow. Cocking your head in faux-confusion, “Hmm, like what?”
“Oh I dunno.” Satoru muses, saccharine sweet. And oh you could tell by his tone that he didn’t like that - didn’t want to like it. Running his fingers feather-light all the way down your legs to fling that useless garter onto the floor. “How about a ‘oh I’m so sorry, Toru, for bailing on you and acting like such a slut with the biggest asshole on campus jus’ to rile you up.’”
You bristle at his mockingly high tone, oh yeah, your plan worked - hell, maybe too well.
Teeth clenched, you hiss, “Well what are you gonna do about it, Toru?” Jutting your chin in defiance, “You’re not even my boyfriend. Maybe he jus’ fucks me better than you.”
“Say that again.”
Fuck, it takes you a second to even recognise his voice as your familiar friend-with-benefits. So jagged and raw.
And yet, you’re still running your mouth - so close to his. Too close. “Maybe he jus’ fucks me be-”
Now, usually you were the one that’d shut up Satoru mid-sentence - this time, however, he’s the one crashing his lips against yours. Swallowing the rest of that sentence in such a messy clash of teeth, and spit, and desperation.
Pulling ever-so-slightly on your glossy lower lip with his teeth, “Say it again, sweetheart.”
Oh, you knew you shouldn’t. Not one bit. But you do it anyway, letting out a muffled, “He f-”
And again. And again and again and-
Each and every time Satoru’s kissing away your mean little words, a large hang coming up around your throat to thumb apart your lips further. “Open.” he hisses against your mouth, so angry.
It’s as if on autopilot when you do, bruised lips sagging open. Leaving the perfect lil’ opening for Satoru to spit onto your lolling tongue, once. Twice. Thrice. Until your bleary eyes are snapping open, whining against Satoru’s iron-hold fist when you pathetically try to pull away in embarrassment.
Because shit, let it be known that Gojo Satoru has perfect aim - except for when it comes to you. Letting the steady strip of spit splatter against the side of your mouth, gliding his thumb to smear it all over your lips.
“How cute.” Satoru coos, eyes hooded. He gives your pouty mouth a final, chaste peck, sucking softly on your bottom lip. Chuckling, “Makin’ me almost forget you were locking lips with some other bitch earlier.”
And Satoru has the audacity to laugh - laugh - hoarse, and humorless at the way your jaw drops open in disbelief. Humming into your throat, “Yer right, though, m’not your boyfriend.” He leaves little bite marks down your racing pulse, your collarbone, your tits spilling out of your sinful dress. Eyes just devouring you through his long lashes, “But that doesn’t make you any less mine.”
Sitting back on the mattress, all it takes him is a simple tug on your hips to seat you so prettily on his lap. Your legs trembling around his thick thighs, gasping at the feeling of something so rock-hard right under your clothed pussy.
“Since ya like riding thighs so much, sweetheart-” Bunching your dress up at your hips, gripping your waist - tight. “-let’s see how you like mine.”
“What- oh ngh- fuck-” you’re gasping when he just starts dragging your sloppy hips down his thigh. Long, harsh movements that don’t even ease you into it.
“Shit.” Satoru groans at the feeling of your cunt drooling, seeping into his skin already. He’s angling his head to spy on the heavenly view - hooking a finger around your drenched panties. “This damn thing is-” Pulling - tearing. “-in the way.”
You’re gasping when Satoru pulls back to look at you with a content grin, dangling the flimsy fabric around his finger like a badge of honor. “You’re- ngh- buying me a new one.”
“Oh, anything for you.” he’s grazing his teeth along your earlobe, fingers finding their way back on your hips to grind them on his thigh, back and forth. Up and down up and down up and- “Or is that what you wanted me to say?”
And shit Satoru is so mean with the way he gives your ass a sharp smack! Pulling your whiny face closer, grinning sternly against your lips. “Why don’t you ask that new boytoy of yours to buy you some, huh?”
“B-but-”
“B-b-but-” he mocks, bouncing his knees up and down to get you to slide your cunt down his long thighs faster. Puffy folds spreading so shamefully open - so shamefully good. “You were so happy being such a slut for him before, right?” Just goading on your poor self to huff and puff in a way that made his cock twitch wildly. “So why are you here? With me?”
You’re stubbornly keeping your lips sealed shut to keep yourself from crying out - and oh, Satoru didn’t like that. Almost as much as he didn’t like seeing you giving those beautiful heart-eyes at some other bastard.
“Oh? Playing shy now?” Smack! “What happened to the slut from earlier, huh?” Bouncing his knee faster. The pads of his long fingers sting into your skin, sure to leave bruises for him to admire later - and for some people to take note of. Pulling - drawing your cunt to hump him like a bitch in heat. “Tha’s alright, pretty. I get it.”
And Satoru - mean, mean Satoru - waits until your features soften in relief, almost letting out a sigh - before dipping a hand down to brush a thumb at your pretty clit. Hard. “Guess I’ll jus’ have to bring her out.”
“Oh- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl, nails digging into Satoru’s shoulders when he starts to draw frenzied, methodical little circles on your throbbing clit. “S’too- good- oh my god-”
“‘Toru’ works jus’ fine, sweetheart.”
But oh for how confident Satoru was talking you into insanity, he can’t help but gape in wonder down below him, awe-struck with how sloppy you were. He could see you sweet sweet juices trailing down his palm, that glossy sheen on his thigh. “You’re so dripping wet, pretty. Who’re you this wet for? Me or-” Satoru’s free hand comes up to squish your cheeks together into an embarrassing pout, turning your head to the adjacent wall, where Sukuna had a framed photograph of himself - because of course he did. “-him?”
Fuck, Satoru can’t even be mad at the way he feels your cunt clench in surprise - because the feeling is so heavenly. His pretty girl, getting off on just his thigh.
Hips stuttering as you move faster - sloppier. So, so filthily all the way from around his knee just till where you could feel the curve of his massive erection.
He doesn’t even have to move your hips for you anymore - you’re moving as if on instinct at this point. And it makes him smirk, “Heh, such a slutty lil’ thing aren’t ya? Gettin’ off on my thigh?” Feeling you push your hips down hard - so hard. Pelvis desperately trying to hit all your sweet spots, “N’ who’s thigh are you riding right now?”
It’s all you can do to manage out a whimpering “Y-you.”
But, of course, that wasn’t enough. And Satoru’s only quirking his fingers just enough on your clit to make you cry out loud. “Yeah tha’s more like it. Louder now - who’s thigh are you riding right now?”
“You-”
“N’ who got you this fucking wet?”
You cry out when Satoru angles his leg up ever-so-slightly to watch gravity slide you faster down his thigh. Clit catching so fucking obscenely along the fabric of his pants. Ruthless.
“F-fuck you, Toru!”
“Mhmmm, thought so.” His hot tongue darts out to catch those big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks at the unforgiving stimulation. Muscled thighs burning lightly now - faster - fingers so erratic. Only getting even more so. “Cuz you’re mine aren’t ya?”
You cum so hard - violent, even - that you don’t realize when you are. Just that you’re letting out a broken sob of Satoru’s name while he toys so relentlessly with your clit through your high.
Flashes of white in your vision, your heartbeat in your ears. So good that you’re almost tearing apart his button-up to shreds, hips jerky and sensitive as you your sloppy cunt gushes all over Satoru’s thigh. And, fuck, you’ve never felt so much like such a slut than when you look down to catch the glossy coating all over it.
One that Satoru swipes thumb at - pooling the syrupy slick on his fingerpad before bringing up to his pretty pink lips and-
Pop!
“Mmm.” He groans, muffled. “Fuck, you’re so sweet - could taste you forever.” Eyes rolling to the back of his head at your addictive taste, “Almost makes me forget that you didn’t answer my last question.”
And you don’t know what you’re reeling more from - the way that Satoru throws you around so easily, pushing you back until you’re splayed out against the plush mattress, shaky legs on his shoulders, arms around his neck. Or from the realization that shit, you’d been too busy losing your absolute sanity to answer his question.
“I- I didn’t hear.” you make up an excuse, heels digging into the muscles of Satoru’s shoulders now. “I’m yours, Tor-”
“Now now, don’t try that with me, sweetheart.” Satoru cuts off your flurry of apologies, kissing softly at the ankle beside his neck while he pulls off your dress and bra. You didn’t need those, anyway. “Guess I just hafta prove it to ya, right?”
And fuck was he well and fully intent on proving it to you. Because the words are barely out of his mouth before he’s peeling down his drenched pants - and those unnecessary boxers right along with it, too.
Satoru hisses when his painfully hard erection smacks against those toned abs, smearing precum in a small, filthy little pool. So so angry with the need to be inside your tight pussy - to prove to you from the inside out that you were his.
“Ya like what you see?” he notices your fixed stare at his cock. Greedily following the precum beading at his fat, red head, making its way between Satoru’s prominent veins. To those tufts of white way down, down, down- “Hey there.” You’re startled out of your little reverie by two wet fingers being snapped in your face, “As flattered as I am, this is actually my favorite part.”
And fuck you could see why it was.
Because it felt so sinful to watch with bated breath at the way Satoru fists his swollen cock, gliding his weeping tip between your swollen folds. Letting your pretty pussy slobber all over him. Up and down. Again. And again. Teasing.
“P-please, Toru-” you whine around the fifth time he’s “accidentally” nudging at your poor clit. Hips bucking up in need for more more more- “Enough teasing, jus’ wan’ you ngh- inside me.”
To Satoru, no sweeter words have been spoken. But he still manages to curl his lips into a leering smirk at your fucked-out, needy self. “Funny. Coming from someone who shit- pretty, you’re pussy’s trynna suck me up - who couldn’t wait to bail on me tonight for some other hah- jerk.” He presses his thick tip down on your clit, on purpose. “Would’ve fucked you ngh- real nicely, tonight, y’know? What a shame.”
You can only watch when he draws his hips back, lining up right with your sloppy hole. “What a shame m’gonna ah- fuck you like the slut you are right now.”
It’s all that’s said before he’s pushing in - to your snug cunt, to your fucking lungs it felt like.
“Oh- oh fuck, Toru-” you keen, back arching off the bed at the stretch. Satoru’s girth was rubbing up against your gummy walls and stretching them out so good. All the way until all you could feel was the rapid thump! thump! thump! of his throbbing cock pushing between your legs. “God, s’too big-”
“No no no, you don’t get to say that.” Satoru spits into your open mouth, hips jutting forward like some animal in short, shallow grinds to bully himself deeper. “You don’t get to fuck- ngh- act all coy when you brought this upon yourself.” His words come out faster - more slurred. Falling out faster and faster as his hips do, “Not when you decided t-to act like a lil’ slut hah- n’ guess what?”
Whether it was a rhetorical question or not - you weren’t sure. All you know is that you’re mewling up tearily at such a feral Satoru, “W-what?”
To which he only smiles against your lips, hips suddenly going still. Dangerously still. “N’ that means m’gonna fuck you like one.”
Before you can even react, he’s pushing in all in one go. Fuck, it never got easier even after so long.
“Oh- fuck I can’t take it- all-” you cry helplessly as he keeps pushing past that first ring of resistance. The curve of his cock massaging all those hidden sweet spots inside while he keeps splitting you apart deeper and deeper - not daring to even slow down. Not until Satoru’s well satisfied with the kiss of your bruised cervix against his thick head ,heavy balls smacking against your marked-up ass.
“See? Knew you could take it, you always do.”
And then he’s moving - not with the slow, persistent determination from before, no. Satoru was so animalistic, bouncing you unapologetically on the mattress.
Hands keeping your hips still to let him ram his entire cock inside your tight pussy. Over and over and-
“Still don’t think you’re not- fuck- mine, sweetheart?” Satoru runs a hand through his hair to see you better, to drink in the sight of your puffy folds bulging around his cock. Struggling to take in each mean thrust, “Because this seems ngh- reeeeal convincing that you are.”
You scrunch your brows in a pathetic plea, “I-I am yours, Toru- ngh-”
But he only brings his ear closer, “What was th-that? Didn’t hah- hear you-” Hands pushing apart your legs until they burned at the stretch. Until you were so shamefully on display for him, “You hah- need more convincing? Oh, I see.”
“I don’t! Oh- T-ngh”
It’s all you can do to let out teary, broken moans when Satoru rolls his hips harder. So carefully practiced with the way he locates your sweet spot easily.
“Yeah? You hah- like that?” he groans, words punctuated by a deep, harsh thrust. All hitting the bulls-eye each and every time. “Like me f-fuckin’ you like you’re mine?”
At this point, you’re scrambling at the damp sheets, the headrest, Satoru’s shoulders - just anything and everything to hold onto whatever’s left of your sanity - which seemed to be slipping away with each press of Satoru’s head against your g-spot.
But it still wasn’t enough.
Languidly, he brings a hand over to pinch your ravaged clit between two fingers. Having you whine so prettily with each roll of his fingertips. “Answer the question, pretty.”
“Yes!” you gasp, feet kicking at the sheer overstimulation. “I love it- ngh shit shit shit- I love it, Toru- love it so much.”
Shit, you might’ve just broken him.
Because while you may have thought that this answer would calm your Satoru down a bit - it only made him snap. Eyes widening, hips stuttering, swollen lips falling into such a fucked-out oh! - he looked like an absolute wreck.
Letting out a low, throaty groan of, “Oh fuck, you’re gonna be the ngh- death of me.” With this, he’s pressing his sweaty forehead onto yours, breaths coming out in feverish little puffs that match his merciless cadence. “Wish they could fuck- see you like this.” Ramming inside you harder - meaner. Giving your clit a light smack! before he starts playing with it once more. “I’d ah- fuck you in front of all those losers that think they have a chance just to show off how good you are f’me. Because you’re fuck fuck fuck- my good girl, right?”
You nod as much as you can, head just spinning with each brush of Satoru’s dick against your sensitive spots. Fingers twirling at your clit just as dizzyingly. Letting your slick glisten all over his wrist - his painfully squeezing balls - all the way up to his abs with how hard he was fucking into your tight pussy.
The both of you were getting so sloppy now. No care or concern for the party still raging on outside, not when your gummy walls were sucking up Satoru’s aching cock like that.
“No one ngh- can fuck you like this.” Satoru sucks on your lower lip. Ragged, like it pained him to keep talking, but he couldn’t stop anyway. “No one.” Milking you harder and harder like he was high off your sweet moans. More desperate - depraved. “Cuz m’yours.”
And he repeats that - into your lips, into your forehead, down your neck - over and over while you cum so fucking hard all on his swollen cock. Plushy walls squeezing so tight that it was almost difficult to fuck you through your high.
Ripping out strangled, raspy groans with each clench of your slutty cunt, “N’ you’re mine.” You think your vision gets hazy through your climax, and the only thing you can hear are those obscene squelches and Satoru’s voice. Like a mantra, “You’re mine- you’re mine you’re mine you’re mine- fuck you’re mine.”
Not straying too far behind, Satoru cums and he thinks he sees the pearly gates of heaven - with you, such an angel.
So sweetly whining into his ear when he’s painting your walls white, pumping rope after rope of thick, hot cum into your awaiting pussy.
Blinking back his vision only to eye the way it overspills, dribbling down your slit with each harsh ram of his hips.
“Wan’ go again-” Satoru groans. Only fucking his seed deeper and deeper and oh- he didn’t want to stop. Didn’t think he could stop with the way you were bringing out each and every single last drop like it was delicious. “F-fuck I needa go again. Swee-”
SLAM!
“Woah, seems the two of you are having a looota fun.”
Still not pulling out, both you and Satoru scramble to cover yourselves up with Sukuna’s now-soaked sheets. Well, mainly cover you up, for Satoru had no shame in staring the other man down. Scoffing out, “The fuck are you fuck- don’ squeeze me so hard, pretty- the fuck are you here for?”
“It’s my room, n’ I had a feeling you’d be here.” Sukuna lets the door shut so agonizingly slow, flashing the two of you a lazy, devilish grin. “Besides - this is my date, after all.”
A/N. Plagiarism of work not authorized.
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