#I just like the name and it's an easy one to throw in if I don't have another one ready

[he3ts]

GIVE YOU MY LOVE

squid game masterlist / part one — part two — masterlist

pairings: nam gyu x reader

warnings: angst, jealous!nam gyu, smut ( p in v ) less than the first part but i prioritized tension and sadness!! toxic relationship, sub reader, alcohol use. mild thanos x reader. this is part two, i recommend you read part one to continue reading. sorry if this is long, but i got too carried away. never mind the mistakes, i'm fucking tired

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and i don't see an easy way to get out of this,,

her diary, it sits by the bedside table

the curtains are closed, the cats in the cradle

who would've thought that a boy like me could come to this

oh i, i just died in your arms tonight

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This time, you would not come back

At first, he didn't pay him any mind; you always did that. You would walk away, disappear for a few days, then come back, slamming the door and insulting him for his way of doing things. It was your sick game, a cycle that repeated itself over and over again. He knew it, had always known it, and that's why he hadn't worried when, for the first time, you didn't answer his calls.

You're being difficult. He had told himself a thousand times, throwing the phone on the table with a tired smile. But then the days had passed. Seven, to be precise. A week without a message, without a call, without even your name lit up on the screen in the middle of the night. A week of total silence. And then the weeks had turned into a month.

Nam Gyu had begun to feel it on his skin, that emptiness, like an ink stain slowly spreading, staining his days, soiling everything. The phone had become an obsession. Every night he unlocked it, looked at your contact, but he couldn't call you. He was too proud. Too convinced that, sooner or later, you would give in. You. Not him. Just you.

Only you hadn't. As the months began to roll by, Nam Gyu began to change.

He was no longer him. Or maybe, he was more than before, but without your eyes to make him feel like someone better. Without your presence to balance his chaos. His nights were made up of never-ending cigarettes, of glasses left on the edge of the table, of pills melted under his palate, of days that blurred together without meaning. He did not sleep, or slept too much. He talked little, or talked too much and to the wrong person.

Girls came and went. Bodies without faces, kisses without taste. He looked for your scent on them and never found it. It irritated him. It drove him crazy.

One year. A year without you. That was how he measured time now.

No one was saying it out loud, but everyone was noticing. The way he reacted to things had changed, patience was in tatters, irritability a constant. Friends knew it, strangers who crossed his path at the wrong time knew it, but no one knew it as much as he did.

No one felt your absence like he did. Yet, he was no longer looking for you. Because inside him, though he didn't want to admit it, he understood. This time, you were not coming back. For your own sake.

The club Pentagon was still the same. Dim lights, pounding music, bodies moving too close, but never enough to fill the void. The air smelled of alcohol, sweat and stale desire, a perfect place for those who wanted to forget, for those seeking a temporary escape from reality. Nam Gyu had dropped onto one of the black leather couches, a drink between his fingers. The amber liquid swayed slightly as he stared blankly at it. He didn't even know why he was there. Or maybe he knew, but he didn't want to admit it. It had been months since he had heard from you. Months that had stretched into a whole year.

"May I sit down?" A female voice brought him back to reality. He looked up as his eyes rested on a young woman with dark hair, bold eyes, a smile that tasted of promise. She wore a black dress that swathed her body in a way that should have attracted him. It should have.

Nam Gyu did not answer right away; he already knew how it would end. It was going to be a night like many others, a night when he would try to forget you in the arms of someone else. It never worked, but he kept trying anyway. He nodded his head. She smiled, satisfied with his silent acceptance, and sat down next to him. Her scent was sweet, perhaps too much so.

"Are you alone?"

He gave a small, bitter smile. "For a long time"

The girl laughed, as if that answer was a joke, and moved just enough closer to reduce the distance between them. Her fingers grazed the rim of his glass, her red-lacquered fingernails tracing a circle on the cold glass.

"Can I buy you another drink?"

He finished what was in his hand in one slow sip, letting the fire from his drink trickle down his throat, and then set the empty glass on the table.

"That's not necessary"

She leaned even closer, her legs crossed in a studied way, her knee brushing against his. "Then maybe I can offer you something better"

Her fingers slid down the collar of his shirt, playing with the first open button. It was an inviting, calculated gesture, something that should have ignited a modicum of interest in him. Yet, he felt nothing. There was no excitement, no desire, just a sense of apathy that suffocated him.

But he did not back down. He could not go on like this. Maybe, this time, it could work. Maybe, this time, he would stop thinking about you.

The cab sped silently through the brightly lit streets of Seoul. Nam Gyu sat beside the girl, his head leaning against the window. He looked out, the reflection of the lights stretching across the glass, distorted like his thoughts. She was talking to him, but he wasn't really listening, occasionally nodding, occasionally hinting at a smile. He had gotten good at pretending.

When they reached his apartment, she took him by the hand and pulled him inside, without hesitation. She closed the door behind her, dropping her purse on the floor, and pushed him against the wall.

"Are you always this quiet?" she whispered, biting her lower lip as her fingers slipped over his shirt. He looked at her, searching for something in her eyes, something that might convince him she was doing the right thing. But he found nothing. Still, he let her. Her lips came to rest on his, the kiss was expert, voracious, but it didn't make him feel a single thing. Her hands touched him, sought him out, and he reciprocated out of pure automatism.

He let himself be pulled toward the bed, his breathing heavy, his body moving without his mind really being there. She pushed him down, lay on top of him, her lips tracing a trail down his neck. He closed his eyes. For a moment, just a moment, he tried to imagine that she was you. That the hands caressing him were yours. That the voice whispering his name was yours.

And then, without meaning to, without thinking about it. She had squeezed his hair vigorously. Only you could do that.

"Y/n, oh my god bunny"

The girl stopped suddenly, hearing that unfamiliar name. She stiffened and pulled away slightly, her breathing labored. "What did you say?"

Nam Gyu opened his eyes. Her own whisper still seemed to echo in the room. Your name. He had said it. He had whispered it against the lips of another girl. A heavy silence fell between them. She drew back, her eyes narrowing in a mixture of anger and disbelief. "Are you kidding?"

He did not answer. There was nothing to say. She stood up abruptly, hastily picking up her clothes scattered on the floor. "Take your ex back at this point," she spat, slipping on her jacket without even looking at him again. And then, without another word, she walked out, slamming the door behind her. Nam Gyu stood motionless, his gaze lost in the ceiling, his breathing heavy.

He closed his eyes again, but this time there was no illusion, no lie to take refuge in.

The bed was cold. And the emptiness he felt inside him seemed to have no end.

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Time had stopped making sense, your days had turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into a whole year without him. Without his burning gaze on you, without his voice to make you shiver, without his touch to always bring you back to where you started, without his caresses.

You had left without a trace, because you really needed it. Needed to change. You had changed areas, found a different job, away from those places that talked too much about him. You had deleted numbers, blocked calls, closed every door left ajar. You had even nipped relationships with people who could have brought you back, because you knew that all it took was one small crack to bring you down again.

It had been difficult at first. The sleepless nights, the phone that went silent but you kept looking at it anyway. The dreams in which he still appeared, vivid, real, with that damned ability to creep under your skin even when you didn't want him to.

And then there was the silence. Too much silence.

The mornings when you woke up with a heavy heart, a tight throat, and the knowledge that you were facing another day without him. The dumb ache of knowing that, deep down, no one had ever made you feel the way he did. Not even in the good, and especially not in the bad. But then it had become habit.

Silence had stopped being an enemy, and had begun to seem almost like a salvation, no longer having to explain to yourself why you always came back, no longer having to justify your need for him with excuses that no longer held up. And, little by little, you had begun to convince yourself that it was really over, that there was nothing left between you. That the love that had consumed you had died along with that old version of you.

But some days were harder than others. You simply woke up already in the morning in a crooked moon. You suffered from lifelong insomnia, but with him it was rare to happen, but that night it was past one, then two, then three. You were lying on the bed, the ceiling a white void that gave you no answers, darkness enveloping everything but your thoughts. Your chest ached, as if there was a weight on it, a tight knot that wouldn't untie.

You didn't know what had triggered that particular night. Maybe a familiar smell heard on the street, maybe "I Just Died in your Arms" played on the radio just that afternoon, his favorite song, maybe just the weariness of having to pretend every day that you had moved on. You had gotten out of bed with soft legs, head light. In the kitchen, the silence was deafening. You had leaned your hands against the counter closing your eyes, biting your lip to hold back the burning that rose in your throat. But it was no use. You could feel it coming. That silent pain, that grip that gripped your stomach and left no escape.

And then, without warning, the tears began to fall. Slow, heavy.

No sobs, no sound, just a silent weeping that seemed to never end. Warm drops on your cheeks, on your lips, falling onto the kitchen countertop one after another, as if your body was expelling all the pain that had been trapped inside for too long.

You felt stupid. You felt weak.

A year had passed. A bloody year. You should have been better off. You should have been free of all this. Instead, there you were, crying in the darkness of a kitchen you didn't even feel was yours, your heart still beating for him, his name trembling on your lips even though you didn't say it.

With the knowledge that, perhaps, you had never really forgotten him.

And that, perhaps, you never would.

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Rain was falling incessantly on the city's gray streets, slipping from the rooftops like tears that no one would ever wipe away. The sky was a cluster of dark clouds, and the air had that oppressive weight that precedes something inevitable. You walked aimlessly, your hands stuffed in the pockets of your jacket too light for that bitter cold, your mind clouded by thoughts that would not shut up. It was one of those days that seemed meant to break you down, no money in your wallet, no place to return to with a smile.

And now him, too. You had rebuilt your life, of course you had to, you were engaged and maybe in love but you didn't know for sure. You thought it centered on the theory that first love is forever, maybe that was why you couldn't open your heart easily to someone else. It was like a poison. But fortunately you had managed, however briefly, to be happy. It had all started that morning with a seemingly innocuous sentence, a joke said lightly, almost in jest.

"You are with me, but sometimes I feel like your head is elsewhere"

You had looked up from the empty plate, fingers fiddling with the now useless fork, your boyfriend was standing in front of you, a smile on his face, you knew him well enough to know something was up. And you knew yourself well enough to know that at that time you were not as spry as before.

"What are you talking about?" you had asked, trying not to sound defensive. He had shaken his head, the smile barely on his lips, but his eyes betrayed his frustration.

"About him"

Your breath had caught in your throat for a second. Yes, him. Nam Gyu.

He had said it out loud. Even though he had never spoken his name, that name that was no longer supposed to belong to you. You had set your fork down on the table with a clatter, trying to maintain control. "I don't want to talk about it"

"But you still think about it"

"I don't"

He had laughed, but without mirth. "Are you really sure?"

Were you? His words were a knife digging into you, slow and precise. "It doesn't matter," you had said finally, crossing your arms.

"It matters to me"

His fingers had drummed against the table, the sound rhythmic and nervous. Then he had shifted, leaning against the back of the chair, watching you with a gaze that made you feel naked, vulnerable. In that perspective, you had noticed how a little like him he looked. You were so screwed.

"I heard you in your sleep," he had said. "You call him. Not me. Him"

You had stiffened.

"No"

"Yes"

The air in the room had become heavy, unbreathable, and going back seemed impossible. "It's not my fault if-"

"If what?" he had pressed, raising his voice. "If he left you? If he destroyed you and now you think no one else can put you back together?"

You had felt your face heat up, your throat tighten. It was unfair. It was cruel. But it wasn't a lie. "If you think that, why did you stay with me?" you had retorted, your voice broken with anger and pain, "You knew my history, you ... You cannot hold my greatest weakness against me"

He had shaken his head, and for a moment had looked more tired than angry. He raised an eyebrow, not expecting me to respond that way.

"Because I thought that in time things would change"

A long silence had fallen between you. One that hurt more than words. Then he had sighed, grabbed his jacket and headed for the door, not turning around before leaving. Nothing more had needed to be said. He had been right. He could not be a replacement and you were still trapped in the past. Alone again.

You had left the house only three hours later, your cheeks streaked with bitter tears, your nose red with shame. You felt the air lacking inside the crowded subway, the air saturated with the smell of rain and dampness. You had sat in a corner, your hood up, your eyes fixed on your hands entwined in your lap. Then you had seen him when you hurried downstairs. A well-dressed man with an enigmatic smile and an expression of someone who always knew more than he was saying. He had stretched a smile at you in a casual, almost distracted gesture.

"Will you play with me?" he had said, and you had almost laughed. A game. It was almost funny, maybe he was trying to cheer up your depressed mood. He had shown you two cards, one blue and one red, and you immediately knew what the game was. Ddakji. You had accepted, perhaps just out of defiance. Maybe because you needed something to take your anger out on.

Every blow you gave against the card seemed a reflection of the chaos inside you. Every pop in the air, every defeat, every burn on your skin when his hand hit your face. But then you had won and the bills had slipped through your trembling fingers. It was not the money that scared you. It was the temptation, because you needed the money. And, perhaps, you had nothing left to lose.

You had returned home sadder than before, the room was a reflection of you, you had taken off your soggy jacket and dropped it to the floor with a dull thud, you sat in the armchair cross-legged looking at the damn note.

Then the music had begun.

"Oh, I just died in your arms tonight..."

You had frozen. A chill had gone down your spine, your hands had begun to shake. That song, that damn song. The radio croaked slightly, the sound imperfect, lived-in. An old gift. One you had kept out of habit, just because it was part of you, and like a slow poison, your mind had gone back.

To him.

To the first time you had listened to that song together, lying on the bed with the rain beating against the glass. To the way he had smiled, brushing your hair away from your face with a careless gesture. To the taste of his lips, to the unspoken promise that was in every kiss. To the anger. To the longing. To everything you had tried to bury. Your gaze had slipped to the note clenched in your fist. Maybe you weren't really free. Maybe you never would have been.

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The metallic sound of the doll's voice was still echoing in your head.

The field was littered with motionless bodies, some lifeless, others paralyzed with fear. Blood stained the dusty ground, yet adrenaline did not allow you to dwell on that scene of terror. Your heart was beating so fast you feared it might explode. You had survived. Where the fuck had you gone? Blood, too much blood, your beautiful face was stained crimson red, you could no longer breathe regularly. But you were alive. With hands still trembling, you had turned around slowly, trying to catch your breath, to process what had just happened.

Terror made your whole body shake in a ghoulish dance, you hid your hands in the pockets of that horrible green sweatshirt. You were breathing only because you had to, only because you wanted to live again. You could not die, you were young, poor, yes, but still young. Everyone seemed too interested in money, blinded almost to want to continue. You obviously voted X, how could you continue knowing that maybe you would die next?

The bed was uncomfortable, you couldn't even eat, you were terrified, and now you were forced to play again just because of someone else's greed.

Nam Gyu no longer knew how long he had been staring into space, the spoon trembled between his fingers, he was nervous, he was in withdrawal, the bland meal had now cooled before him, but none of this mattered. He was in withdrawal and thought it was just yet another vision he had before him. But no, he had seen you. You. Across the room, far away, your back slightly bent as if you wanted to make yourself smaller, more invisible. There you were, intent on eating in silence, not drawing attention to yourself, but your face, your movements, everything about you screamed your presence like a deafening echo in his chest.

The spoon almost slipped out of his hand. His lungs closed, as if the air had suddenly become too thick for him to breathe.

One year.

But it had only taken one glance. One bloody instant to shatter every lie. He had lost you. But he had never forgotten you. And now you were there. You were real.

Your hair was longer, slightly messy, but it still looked good on you, as if it belonged to that version of you he had never known. Your face was more mature, marked by something he couldn't define. Suffering? Weariness? Or was it just time that had left its mark?

You were even more beautiful. A kind of beauty that hurt the eyes.

You looked fragile, almost ethereal, as if the world had crushed you for too long. But he knew. He knew that inside you was still that flame, that storm that had always engulfed him. He watched as you brought the spoon to your lips slowly, with no real desire to eat, with no real taste to that meal. Your movements were mechanical, lifeless, and that realization hit him like a punch to the stomach.

He bit the inside of his cheek, holding back the wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. A laugh at his side abruptly brought him back to reality: Thanos, the purple-haired boy, the rapper, always stoned and a little disconnected. Sitting next to him looking relaxed, as if they hadn't just risked their lives. He was saying something, a joke maybe, but Nam Gyu couldn't follow him.

Not as long as you were there. Not as long as your breath seemed to echo in every corner of the room. Thanos followed his trajectory, turning his head sharply toward Nam Gyu "Do you know her?"

"No," he had gasped, but he still stared at you with too much intensity, without shame or modesty. Your eyes met. One moment. A single, eternal moment.

Your lips barely parted. The spoon remained suspended between your fingers, as if you had forgotten what you were doing. Nam Gyu felt the blood freeze in his veins.

You.

It was really you.

Bunny.

He had missed you.

He had missed you to death.

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He did not know how it had started, but Thanos had set his eyes on you from the start. He had opened the cross necklace around his neck only to pull out what looked like an ecstasy pill to Nam Gyu. He scrutinized you as if you were a fun puzzle to solve, as if he had already decided you were worth playing with.

After the fight with Player 333 he seemed more fierce than ever, his had been a test toward him, he was plotting something, and Nam Gyu knew it. Maybe he had noticed the way he was looking at you? He didn't want to talk, didn't want to hunt for some weakness. But seeing you there again had ignited that flame in him that he was unlikely to extinguish now. He felt the fire sprinkle in him everywhere, how delirious.

Thanos was serious, approaching you with that relaxed walk of his, his head slightly tilted, as if everything was a big joke and he was the only one who knew the punchline.

Nam Gyu could tell from your eyes, from that little glint, that you were amused. Maybe from his dilated pupils. Okay it's done, it's going to be really funny.

He clenched his fists inside his pockets, his fingernails digging into his palm. Thanos was already in front of your figure, his face tilted in a theatrical gesture, while you were still trying to finish your cross-legged meal.

"Hey, Señorita"

Nam Gyu felt the blood boiling in his veins, you barely looked up from your meal, the spoon suspended in midair. You tilted your head, watching him curiously.

"Señorita?" you repeated with a smile that, however small, was enough to annoy Nam Gyu. That symptom of belonging. You had never been engaged, not officially, but at the club his friends always tried to stay away from you.

"Yes." Thanos nodded slowly, with that air of a sassy kid who enjoyed pushing himself. "I've decided I'm going to call you that. It sounds better than your number, doesn't it?"

"I don't like it"

Thanos clutched his shoulders. Nam Gyu forced himself to look away. He felt his own breathing becoming heavier, his chest rising and falling with effort. He had no right to be annoyed. He had no right to intervene. Yet, he felt the need to do so.

You chuckled, lowering your gaze to your meal.

"Join my team, and I will protect you at all costs"

Another laugh. Light, almost distracted. Yet every time Nam Gyu heard it, it was like a punch in the stomach. He hadn't heard you laugh like that in a long time. Not with him. Not for him. He was the one who knew every expression on your face, every nuance in your voice, and yet, there you were now, smiling with someone else.

And then, as if that were not enough, your eyes shifted to him. You were doing it on purpose, it was so predictable. You hadn't seen him in years. Years in which you had tried to forget the sound of his voice, the way his touch could burn your skin, the look with which he had always made you feel naked, exposed, vulnerable. You had vowed never to think of him again, to rebuild yourself, to erase his name from your mind. But when your eyes had landed on him in that bare, stuffy dormitory, time had stood still.

He had changed. Thinner, harder. His face seemed carved in stone, his black eyes were duller, more hollowed out. Did he have new tattoos? For a moment, you had seen a spark of something familiar before he looked away.

"So now you want to impress me?" you had told him, as Thanos sat down next to you just to talk some more.

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Nam Gyu sat in a corner, his body motionless, his hands intertwined in front of his face. He was trying to ignore it. He was trying to ignore the discomfort that knotted in his stomach every time Thanos spoke to you. But then, Thanos spoke.

"Strange," he said, with his usual arrogant smile, his eyes cast toward the piggy bank. "I didn't think you were the type to let a woman like that go"

Nam Gyu did not react. Not right away. Thanos understood. He was high and only wanted to annoy him.

"Or maybe," he continued, tilting his head slightly, "you never really had her?"

A deep breath. Absolute control. He didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

"Why are you talking about things that don't concern you?"

Thanos laughed softly, with the confidence of someone who knows he has the upper hand. He leaned in slightly closer, as if deliberately trying to provoke him.

"Because it amuses me," he whispered. "Because I want her. Because you had her in your hands and threw her away like an idiot"

Nam Gyu clenched his jaw, still silence. Still checking. Yes, he was an idiot. Yes, he was wrong. Yes, his heart still burned for you.

"But maybe it was for the best," Thanos continued, the grin becoming more and more evident. "She is free now."

The bed creaked in an instant, Nam Gyu stood, his breath short, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes burning with pure rage. Thanos smiled even wider. "Ah, so you still feel something? What a surprise"

"Leave her alone"

Thanos stared at him, and for the first time a shadow of caution flashed in his eyes. He was only joking. "What is it you call her? Bunny? Bro, you're really fucked up to call her in your sleep. Maybe you should-"

Nam Gyu moved even closer, his gaze now a bottomless abyss. His sweatshirt sleeves were up, Thanos noticed his scars, from when he was piercing himself. He took his necklace with a dry gesture, opening it in front of him, Nam Gyu's eyes lit up with something all too intense.

Thanos studied him for a long moment, then tossed him the pill, the smile barely noticeable. "Don't worry, champion. I don't want any trouble. At least not yet"

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You could not sleep. The need to go to the bathroom had become impossible to ignore; you were so terrified that you hadn't thought about your physiological needs at all. You had risen cautiously, slipping away from your bed without a sound, moving like a shadow among the huddled bodies. You crossed the dark room, the faint red and blue lights on the floor were blinding. When you reached the door, the guard behind the glass looked impassive.

"You can't get out"

The metallic voice rang through the device, cold and impersonal. You paused, your breath suspended for a moment.

"I need to go to the bathroom." Your voice was firm, but your body tense, but the guard remained still. Not an ounce of sympathy. Clenching your fists, the idea of having to stay there, of being denied even that slightest freedom, made your blood boil in your veins.

"If you'd rather I do it here, be my guest and watch"

The guard did not move. He did not respond. Nervousness burned under your skin. Your instinct told you that you would never be able to convince him, because you couldn't even convince yourself. Do it in front of everyone, even if they were asleep? That was out of the question. But then, a presence behind you.

"What's the problem?"

His voice. Low. Deep. Strange. A shiver went down your spine even before you turned around. He was there, so close you could feel the heat behind you. His gaze, heavy as a mark on your skin, did not leave the guard in front of you.

"She just needs to go to the bathroom"

The guard did not move, "It is not allowed at night"

Nam Gyu took a step closer. "Not allowed?" His voice dropped a tone, becoming darker, more dangerous. "Either you let her pass, or we make a scene. But I guess you don't want to attract attention, right?"

The guard was impassive, as always, and he was so close, and you desperately needed the bathroom.

Nam Gyu looked at him as if he could break him in two with a single glance, resting his hand on your back. "Don't be an asshole," his voice was pure threat. "Open that door."

A second of absolute tension, then finally the guard opened the door. As soon as the door opened, Nam Gyu gently grabbed your wrist, guiding you out without another word. He walked in front of you, determined, his shoulders broad and tense. His grip on your wrist had barely loosened, but the contact between your skins was still there, alive, electric. Reaching the bathroom door, he stopped, you turned toward him, finally meeting his gaze. He was staring at you in a way that almost made you hold your breath.

His eyes were dilated, shiny, you remembered, because you had those eyes too, then you had decided that ruining your life was not the thing and stopped. Only when you had turned away from him had you felt the air lacking. So close, you could touch him, just reach out. All you had to do was ... No, you couldn't. Not now that you were both vulnerable.

"What an honor to know you still care about me," you barely whispered, he tightened his lips into a single line, he wanted to speak, he wanted to stop you. He wanted to... He didn't know anymore either. You had entered the bathroom not knowing that he had followed you quickly. You had done everything in a hurry, not wanting to upset the masked men.

Water ran over your cold hands as you rubbed them under the rusty jet of the sink, trying desperately to concentrate on the monotonous noise that echoed in the small room. But the only presence you could feel was his.

He was there, standing still against the door, his arms crossed over his chest, his body relaxed in that silent arrogance that had always driven you crazy. His dark eyes watched you with an intensity that seemed to dig into you, making you feel vulnerable, as if he saw every thought hidden behind your impassive facade.

You knew he was watching you. He was devouring you with his eyes. You breathed deep, trying to find the voice to break that nerve-wracking wait.

"You can leave, you know"

The sound of your words echoed in the small room, but he did not move. Then he slowly left his position against the door and took a few steps toward you, slow, studied. Curse.

"Still playing hard to get" His voice was low, rough, with that undertone of danger you had come to know well. You felt your heart quicken as the reflection in the small mirror above the sink returned his figure to you, getting closer and closer. And then-the contact. His hands. Warm, sure, terribly familiar.

His hands rested on your hips with devastating naturalness, his fingers sliding lazily along the elastic of your sweatpants. A shiver ran down your spine, your breath jamming for an instant.

"Don't touch me. Back away," but you had arched your back so pathetically that your words betrayed themselves. He knew that your breathing had just changed. He knew that your body was already responding to his.

"Really?"

His tone was a challenge-laden whisper, his mouth close to your ear, his warm breath brushing against your skin. He moved even closer, his chest almost touching your back. The warmth of his body against yours made you shiver. And then, you felt it. His erection, how much he wanted you, and the tip of his thumb sliding slowly under the fabric of your panties. A very light, almost accidental touch.

You stiffened instantly, your fingers gripping around the edge of the sink tightly, as if it were the only thing holding you up.

"Stop it"

Nam Gyu smiled against your neck, a smile you couldn't see but felt all over.

"Lie"

His hand moved another inch, his fingers playing with the hem of the fabric, lazily caressing the soft skin beneath it. Your breath grew shorter, the heat spreading along your skin like a slow poison.

"You always said you hated it when I did that"

His voice was low, hypnotic, dangerously close.

"And I hate it." You tried to maintain control, to ignore the way your body responded to his touch. But he laughed softly, a deep sound that made you shudder.

"Stop your bullshit. Can't you hear how much I want you, bunny." That name. That damn name that had always made you melt.

You had bitten your lip, hating yourself for the way your body seemed to give out without you being able to stop it. Stop, stop, stop.

"Go away, Nam Gyu"

He did not move; rather, he let his lips barely graze the skin behind your ear, his hot breath making you tremble.

"Tell me you don't want this"

"Tell me you hate me"

You hated him. You hated him because he knew you would never say it. When his hand reached your opening, opening it with two fingers, your breath was ragged, you had rested your head on his shoulder you could see his face looking down at you.

"Is that a no?" he turned several times between your folds as he gave you pleasure and you closed your eyes. Maybe it was his twisted way of enjoying himself. Maybe he liked seeing you tremble under his intense gaze, knowing that he could destabilize you. Or maybe he simply wanted what he couldn't have.

"He's on you like a hungry dog," Nam Gyu had whispered, his voice low, laden with venom, as he kissed your neck. He was talking about Thanos, you knew; he was jealous because you were still his stuff.

"None of your business," you had replied, your heart pounding in your chest. He had removed his fingers from your pussy too quickly, grabbing your hair with a tug, you had already complained about his distance.  "Yes it is my business. I see your face in my nightmares, I can't touch a woman after you anymore.... bunny, don't you understand?" his eyes were black, damned, you felt your intimacy melt deprived by your orgasm. But you were bursting.

"You reduce yourself to this! I am not a piece of meat! I loved you and you just exploited my weakness, my love to your liking!" before he could continue torturing you, his hand let go of your hair, you were looking at your bodies through the mirror, him behind you, and you trembling in front. Your pants slightly pulled down over your legs, his hand continuing to pull them down.

"You are more than a piece of meat"

"You didn't give me a way to think that, though" you had turned around, now you were face to face. His cheeks red, his eyes half-closed, as he grasped your cheeks with his palms as if to lock them in.

"Maybe we won't get out of here alive, bunny," he sighed, playing with your hair; it was the drug, you knew. "Maybe I'll die. But at least I was lucky enough to see you one last time"

"You're not in you. That's the drug talking"

Your still damp hands clenched against the fabric of his suit. You stared at him, your breath short, your eyes struggling to stay cold, not to betray the fire he always managed to ignite. He smiled. A game. Always the same, the one where he pushed and you tried to resist. Only this time the bathroom walls seemed to close in on you, the breath of both of you was too close, and the air was thick with something you could no longer ignore.

"You're always the same," he continued, his tone softer, almost bitter. "Always ready to say no to me"

You didn't know what to say, you were like stuck, still too shaken.

"You like to drive me crazy, don't you?"

You didn't have time to answer. His hands closed around your face, "Please, bunny, kiss me" It was that closeness you knew, it was that you couldn't stand it anymore, to say enough. It was the fear, the fear of dying in a place like that. It was too strong, and painful but his lips touched yours without any warning. It was a violent, hungry, angry kiss. No gentleness, no attempt to hold back. Just years of anger, repressed desire and unspoken words exploding all at once.

Your fingers slid into his hair, squeezing hard as his body pushed you against the sink again. Your mouths sought each other, taking, biting.

He moaned against your lips, his tongue sank deeper into your mouth, as if he wanted to claim you, as if he wanted to remind you that, in spite of everything, he had never really let you go.

And the worst of it was that you didn't want to stop him. Never. Not even when he turned you over for the second time, and bent you over the cold sink, his erection pressing against your butt was just yet another signal about how much he was treating himself. How many times he had dreamed that you were the woman he had between the sheets, your face, your hair, your lips.

"Nam Gyu," you had said, trying not to wince as he slid down your sweatpants and panties. His body was pressed against your bottom, his hair in front of his face and his hands clasped around your hips.

"Do you know how much I've missed you?" was a rhetorical question, sure enough, your head was foggy and your legs gave out. You were all wet, he found it funny. It was sloppy, all so fast, his breath on your neck and the tip of his cock already inside you. You lifted your butt higher toward him, because you wanted more, you were addicted, "Fuck"

"How I had missed your voice" he muttered, as his hand grabbed your hair, pulling you back toward him kissing your neck. You weren't protesting, you couldn't do anything more, you were exhausted and confused completely loose under him. His hands were everywhere, reaching for your breasts under your bra.

"Hurry the fuck up, I'm going crazy"

Your breath took away as he began to giggle and then grabbed you with far too much force as he fucked you in that fatal position. It was your head spinning, sweat soaked into your forehead. You felt it all, his tongue on your neck and moans against your ear. You were so hungry for him but so little in control of your person, "We are both doomed, you know, bunny"

"I know"

You had been struck by time, out of control, and for that night you had been his again. He couldn't get enough of it. Then a soft knock against the door. There were a few thrusts, unrestrained like animals possessing themselves. He stepped out of your frustrated womanhood, pulling your hair back from your neck and laying a chaste kiss on it. You had rested your head on the sink, your cheek flattened, and your face formulated a small smile. Your legs completely filled with him. You were cursed, yes. You were alive, again.

"I love you"

MASTERLIST.

[yamumsyadadd]

the forgotten girl (15)

little bit of smut. This is the second last chapter x

I moaned as her hands slowly made their way up my thighs. Her mouth attacking my neck and collarbone, slowly making their way down to the collar of my shirt. 

“Can I take this off?” She stopped, looking at me. 

“Please.” It came out more as a moan than anything. 

“Holy fuck. You’re so perfect.” 

Her hands travelled to my barely covered boobs, squeezing them tightly and groaning. Slowly her lips returned to my body, one hand snaking around and undoing my bra, I let it fall off my arms and on the kitchen counter. 

Her mouth moves towards my nipples, sucking lighting on my left one and twisting the right one between her fingers. I moan loudly when she looks up at me with hooded eyes. She was so incredibly hot and I was so incredibly went. 

“Please Alexia. I need you.” It definitely sounded like a whine and it had her smiling. 

“Where Chica guapa?” The smug smile almost makes me what to slap her, but unfortunately I am too horny for that. 

“Here?” Her hands fiddle with the hem of my skirt, moving higher up her thumb breezes over my clit, “or here?” 

“Jesus Christ”

“That’s not my name bebé. Can I take these off?” I nod my head violently, her fingers hook in the waistband of my underwear, pulling them down with easy and tucking them into her pocket. 

“You’re so nice and wet for me, aren't you?" Alexia moans. 

“I am now please just touch me, please" I beg. No doubt Alexia feels pride in having me beg so much.

Alexia uses her hands and spreads my lips to get a better view, biting on her lip at the sight. She slides her thumb through the wetness and i can't stop the moan i lets out.

Alexia dropped to her knees and please a soft kiss right on my clit, before licking a broad strip all the way along.

"Oh fuck yes" i moans, throwing my head back and reaching down to tangle a hand in Alexia’s hair, pulling at it. Alexia wraps her lips around my clit and sucks hard, leaving me panting and moaning loudly. Sorry to my neighbours. 

Slowly, Alexia uses two fingers to tease my entrance. Circling around it, pressing the tips of her fingers slightly inside, but removing them just as quick as she continues to lick all over her pussy.

"Alexia please, stop teasing. I don’t know how much more begging I need to do" i whined, already starting to lose her mind at the sensations.

"Alright Amor" Alexia laughed, a smug smile all over her face again, slowly pushing her fingers in my dripping entrance, pushing all the way to her knuckles.

"That's it baby, opening up so perfectly for me" Alexia groans at the sight of my greedy pussy swallowing her very large fingers.

She gets up from her knees to pull me in a bruising kiss, biting my bottom lip and sliding her tongue in my mouth, before slowly moving the fingers inside of me.

I moan in Alexia’s mouth. The feelings almost becoming too much. Her lips move back to my jaw, fingers pumping in and out of me. 

“You’re taking me so well baby. Your pussy feels so good.” I was close, embarrassingly close. 

“Do you want to come?” 

I nod my head, my fingers squeezing her bicep no doubt leaving marks. 

“Words amor.”

“Please ale, I want to cum”

“Cum then amor. Show me how good you are.” 

And cum I did. Alexia guided me through it, helping me come down. Slowly removing her fingers from me, washing her hands and grabbing a cloth. 

“Are you okay?” She asks as she stands between my legs. 

“Better than okay. I’m promise.” I cup her face and pull her in for a kiss. It’s different this time, full of love. 

“Shower time.” 

“Only if you join.” I drag her through the apartment and into the bathroom, undressing her  and taking my skirt off. 

The night continued that way, after many rounds, we fell asleep. Holding each other. This time with the promise of staying in the morning. Now more running away. 

[iwaasfairy]

pls the way I was just casually playing lads and then got fucking blindsided by caleb and the absolute cest horniness that overtook me I can’t escape the huge strong devoted big bro that can’t live or breathe if he doesn’t have his cute lil sis carnally

tw yandere caleb, possessiveness, blood, a lot of niichan calling, siscon, I hc that reader calls him Mahiru growing up n Caleb when he leaves for uni and DAA so I use Mahiru here

It’s all too easy to feel like a big shot when neighbourhood kids flock around you. The swingset still glitters with dangling raindrops after the downpour, and laughter and childish discussion echoes the playground for a whole block between the raised skyscrapers.

“He’s coming again,” Nene giggles under her breath, air blowing through the hole where a tooth sat a few weeks ago, and her ponytail bounces. She hoists herself back onto the monkey bars while looking your way. Some of the other girls chat among themselves, and though they pretend not to look, even at age nine they seem to know. You hear your name fall between giggles.

It’s quick.

“Hey.” A rounded pebble hits your spine, and you turn.

The taller boy, stout, with soft freckles and a bit of a mean look stands before you for the nth time this afternoon. His words won’t make it clear, but he can’t seem to leave you alone. You place your hands on your hips, and sneer at him. “What do you want, Asher…” Gran told you he’s going through a phase, to be gentle. Niichan told you to punch him between his eyes next time he gets on your case.

You’re not sure you can do either of those. Asher’s eyes flick around as he shuffles a bit closer, under the eyes of some of the other boys— and a dusty rose tints his cheeks. “We’re gonna play house now. Since you’re not busy, you gotta play the mom.” He mirrors your pose, and his hands land on his hips. “I’m the dad, and they’re the kids.”

—Nene giggles from her elevated position, before yelling something out. “We don’t wanna play with you, Asher! You only play rough, and girls don’t like that.” Her smile is so wide that it’s almost Cheshire. “And besides, you should ask a girl. Not just order her around. Right?”

Right. You don’t say it, but your eyes stay on the boy as his face gets brighter, and he starts fidgeting with his clothes. “I’m playing with my friends,” you end up saying, as Asher steps into your space, and his rough hand grabs onto your wrist to yank you his way. That, and Mahiru nii is running around with his own friends somewhere. He already told you not to engage. It wouldn’t end well even if you ended up playing nice.

The blond’s basically sunset pink in the face, and though he’s holding onto you, you can tell he’s trying his best to be gentle. “Just play with me- with all of us. Don’t be like that.” He stares down his nose at your defiant eyes, and raises his nose. “If you don’t I’ll pick you up and throw you in there.” The sandpit. Rude.

“My brother will punch you if you do,” you snap back, as you pull your hand back. He doesn’t let go though, hand now trapped between your arm and chest.

“Just leave her alone, Asher.” One of the other girls chants from behind you. The longer he holds your arm, the hotter your face grows. Then one of them lets out a laugh. “We know you wanna play with her because you like her.”

The change on his face happens in slow motion. His eyes flick wildly over your face like he can’t settle them anywhere without more embarrassment, so he lets go of you as if burned. “I wouldn’t ever like you! You girls are all annoying, I was just joking around!”

“Asher’s in love!” Nene squeals out over the whole yard, and he gets a look in his eye that tells you to get out of the way. 

“Shut up, Nene! I’m not! I’m not in love with her at all.” You go to run back to your friends as they all squeal and chatter, and the muted blond grabs one of your pigtails to yank you back, hard.

You land on the floor, dirt and sand on your hands— and tears spring up in your eyes. But before you can cry out as you look back up at him, a larger body’s already flung him to the ground and gets on top of him to pound a fist right onto his brow.

It’s harder than you landed. You’re pretty sure it’s much harder than is needed, too. The sharp thud is followed by another, and another, as the playground goes quiet. You can’t even see the boy who hurt you under Mahiru’s bigger form— older, stronger, he’s already started to grow up while Asher definitely has not. Adrenaline courses through your veins, and the tears clog up your throat.

Only when one of the older kids who’ve joined from the street pull Mahiru back by his collar, does the assault stop. “Hiru, I think- that’s enough.” Mahiru’s heavy breathing makes way from the soft puffs of breath coming from the younger boy, who’s bloodied face starts bruising an angry red almost instantly, and gasps and hisses sound out.

He’s flattened to the grass with no movement. 

The pained looks come from the older boys most of all, as they straighten your niichan up. When he turns to you, he’s stuck between chewing you out and putting on a smile. He kneels before you to take your hands in his. “Told ya’ to punch him between the eyes next time he tries to talk to you.” The chastising tone doesn’t fit the mood that’s overtaken the playground. But he doesn’t hesitate to brush a thumb along your cheek. “Are you not too badly hurt? C’mere, let niichan see.”

His knuckles are split and bloody as he cups your small hands in his, and starts dutifully dusting them off for you— as his friends only grimace. Your shock doesn’t fade when he hoists you up under your armpits, nor when he pulls you into his chest to place a kiss on the top of your head. “Think you’ve had enough fun for today, ‘mouto.”

He smiles brightly to the young girls frozen on the swing, then at his own friends. “I’m going to take this one home first. We can hang out again later!” That’s that, before he picks you up and puts you onto his hip without another word, and your shaking hands are forced to link around his neck. “Don’t space out. Let’s go.”

…

The streets even out into less busy districts as he walks, lets you rest your head into the crook of his neck, your breaths evening out. You’re not sure what to say, only that it’s gone quiet since all the prying eyes followed you both down the block.

“Will Asher die?” you end up asking, and Mahiru’s steady breathing only breaks for a slight exhale through his nose, before continuing.

“Bad kids don’t die so easy.” His brows furrow ever so slightly, before he turns his face to yours so that his cheek is against your nose. “Shouldn’t you be a bit more worried about yourself?”

His dark head of hair rubs against yours with how close you two remain, until your lack of answer makes him continue. The swaying of your legs as he walks is easy, and it’s this that makes your tummy feel a bit queasy. You don’t have a scratch on you. Mahiru always makes sure of that. Your lips purse, and you tense against him. “He’s my friend. The girls were teasing him, that’s why he did that.”

Big brother stops walking. His long arms move from the small of your back where he’s holding you against him to your thigh, and he looks at you. Now nose to nose, heat climbing onto your cheeks. You’ve always been close, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still make you nervous. Mahiru doesn’t seem to get nervous for anything. His eyes sink deep into yours as he talks. “I don’t like your friends then. They put their hands on you and pull you and touch you. You think I’m stupid?”

“No.”

He lowers his eyes to your throat, then leans into you. Mouth to your neck, it tickles. “I was pissed at him because I know what he wants. Soon enough they’ll start asking you to kiss.” You can’t help it, you flush. Heat travels to your nose and cheeks and ears, and of course, Mahiru notices.

“What’s that reaction?”

“Nothing! I don’t have a reaction.”

The shades of brown and purple in his irises get a darker tint as he lets out an unamused noise. The tension makes you all jittery and weird feeling, and you start struggling a little to stay in his hold. “You’re my sweet, innocent little imouto. You’re not kissing people yet, right?”

“I’m not kissing anyone, niichan! Only you.” The silence is filled with your breathing. “Even if they ask, I'm not going to do it.” His dark brows are laced together so tight it looks like it hurts, and it only takes a moment for you to lean in and give a polite peck on his cheek. He doesn’t relax until you make an exaggerated ‘mwuah’ sound and press your lips longer against his ear, nuzzling into his cheek. “Don’t be so mad, you protected me, right? I’m okay thanks to you, niichan. Love you.”

You hop off his hip to stare up at him, and take his hand in yours to lace your fingers together. “Let’s just go home, nii nii? You were right, I’m tired.” And something still plays in his eyes, but when you pull he follows. That’s enough for now. You don’t want to get Hiru nii in trouble. He’s just protective.

[wisteria-lodge]

Wait the wiki is bad? I use it all the time 😭 I thought the whole point is it's community-run so people should be able to fix any mistakes (and since it's a huge community that's been running for very long it seems quite robust and strict on verifying information) I do get that it has info from the videogames which most people don't regard as canon, though. But when it does it tends to note it as such, and they still consider the books/movies a higher "plane" of canon.

I love reading the wiki, but I do have to do a lot of follow up and sifting if I'm using it as reference. In tends to throw in the video games, JKR interviews, *actor* interviews, and Pottermore content, and sometimes it's organized and clearly marked, but a lot of times it isn't... and that has definitely slipped up my co-writer (whose knowledge of HP isn't as crazy as mine) a few times. Unless you already have a really solid grasp on everything, it's easy to get confused. Like here's someone who wrote into me, asking about a sentence in the Narcissa page that was 1) Poorly written 2) wrong.

The other problem with the wiki is that since it's community run, every page tends to be written by fans of that particular character. This is especially obvious with the villains. Like read through the Lucius Malfoy, or Severus Snape pages. There is so much there that's bending over backwards to give them a positive edit. There's a lot about Lucius' elegant dueling style (no source) and his skill with potions. Like the actual detail is 'Lucius Malfoy mentions having a potion collection in Book 2.' I don't want that extrapolated into 'Lucius Malfoy was a model student who got into the Slug Club because of his skill with potions.' Like let me write my own headcanons! It starts speculating that Lucius got Voldemort monologing on purpose in the graveyard to buy time for Harry!

Snape's page says that one of his skills is writing poetry. He wrote a rhyming logic puzzle in book one, which I would say is not the same thing. It also says he communicates with floriography, which is a reference to a fan theory about how the plants he lists in Book 1 are a coded message about Lily. Like *I* know that. But then the wiki just cites Book 1. That's not in Book 1.

This is actually so common that co-writer @niche-pastiche and I have an in-joke when we attribute any flattering/creative interpretation to Tom Saunders, Wasp Scientist.

Tom Saunders is a New Zealand biologist who named a species of wasp after Lucius Malfoy because:

"People see wasps as villains, as the 'bad guys.' But the truth is that the vast majority of wasp species are either neutral or beneficial, from a human standpoint. Just as Lucius Malfoy is pardoned after separating from Voldemort's allies, I'm asking people to pardon wasps in order to restore their reputation as interesting, important creatures."

Like I get that you like wasps, and Lucius Malfoy, I do too. But that's not info that's in the books.

(It is Pottermore stuff, but I honestly count Pottermore as tertiary canon at *best.* Like every once in a while it'll be a cool detail, but JKR is *not good* at worldbuilding, so most of the time, instead of explaining things... it just makes everything more confusing. And I think that all of this has the end result of accidentally gatekeeping newcomers who want to engage with the material. Like the person who sent that ask.)

[sadnightforus]

[6:48 PM] “Can I sit with you?” 

 His voice startles you out of your concentration that was on your work earlier, but you look up to find the source of the voice and you find that it’s a guy, a handsome one indeed. 

 You’re at your comfort café (although it has been open for just 2 weeks), but it quickly becomes your spot to go to chill at, whether you’re doing assignments, which is something you’re doing right now, or wasting your time away. 

 You have your green tea frappe by your side, a laptop and a phone, focusing on your work until a person came along and shot you a question. 

“Uhm.. yeah sure. Take it easy.” You respond, ashamed by your obvious potential starstruck expression you must’ve made like you’ve seen a god in real time. 

 He pulls the seat, then sits down, dropping his bag onto his lap too as he seems to be in rather hurry mode to finish it. He pulls his iPad out, with a pen and it’s when you notice that he drinks an iced latte. 

“Sorry about that. It’s just, there are no other table and yours is the only one with an empty seat. I hope it’s not troubling you.” He profusely apologizes for disturbing your peace and you ought to scream that you’d let him do that any time as he wishes. 

“It’s no problem with me.” You smile, trying to show that you’re more than welcoming for his presence. 

“I think as a thank you, I should learn my savior's name, if you don’t mind me asking?” He questions, and you think to yourself, smooth. Real smooth. His attention has been pulled from his iPad to settle his eyes on you instead. 

“Y/N, what about you?” Your eyes have a twinkle of amusement, which he can’t help but compliment on it. 

“That’s a pretty name. You’re pretty.” He then clears his throat. “I’m Taehyun.” And he is so pretty, with his eyes, nose, lips and gentleness like that. 

 Pretty boy with a pretty name, that’s what you think. 

“Your name is as beautiful as you too.” You return the smile, although this time you take the initiative to flirt first. 

“You’re much cuter.” He comments. 

“Hmm not so sure about that pretty boy.” And then you ask him. “What major are you in?” 

 You both ended up chatting for a little while, discovering that he took environmental science while you took finances and that you both attended two different universities that happened to be located near each other. You both talk about your common interests; which are music and comment on how good the shop owner’s taste in songs is— the reason why you keep coming back.

 You look at the time, and realize that you both have been talking for almost an hour. 

“I hate to cut the conversation so short.. but I have the work due. If you want to ask anything, don’t hesitate to throw it myself.” And he nods, understanding it as he too, goes back to work on his own notes. 

 The table falls silent, a comfortable silence between two strangers that happened to encounter tonight due to Taehyun unable to grab a table at a famous café shop. He, too, is quiet and doesn’t ask questions. Occasionally, you can hear the pen making noise against the screen as an indication that he too, is also studying. 

 You don’t know how much time has passed, but you’re now done with your assignment. You finally look up to see that the shop has customers coming in and out, never making it quiet. You realize that it’s probably very late too and you want to go home and finally relax. 

 You shut your laptop down and sip on your drink, then put everything into your bag, rechecking to make sure you didn’t leave anything. Taehyun notices, knowing you’re about to leave and he hates the small talk you both had when he wanted to extend that. As you zip your bag, stand up and ready to leave, he stops you by calling out your name. 

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” You quirk your eyebrow in confusion, an adorable kind of confusion from Taehyun’s view. 

“I hate to make this talk so short, so I was thinking if I can get your number.” 

 How is he so smooth? It’s unfair that someone who is as handsome as him also is that charismatic. 

 But you smile before you give your response, after looking at his piercing eyes that eventually turn soft overtime and you think that he must’ve been really shy. You hear his “You’re pretty.” thrown to you mindlessly but you pretend that you didn’t catch it. 

“Sure. But give me your number too.”

 You both end up exchanging each other’s phones to type the number before handing it back to one another. As you brace yourself and finally get his number, you lock your phone, then look up to see Taehyun smiles at you. 

“See you later.” You wave to him, heart is full of a feline-appearance who manages to charm you tonight with only his smile. 

“See you.” He waves back, his eyes never losing its sparkle as he watches you turn around and start heading out of the café shop, then disappears out of his sight. 

 You consider tonight a win as you get to drink your favorite order, complete your work and get a cute boy’s number. 

COPYRIGHTED BY SADNIGHTFORUS, 2025

A/N: know by meyou... i believe in you. also, my second fic of taehyun to thai's song. a coincidence? i think not. also i wrote this in june last year lol

reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated!

[simp-ly-writes]

Lost Souls & Broken Hearts

─────── · ·  For All Time: The Series (pt.1)

─ · · PAIRING: 10th Doctor x F!Time Lord!Reader, 10th Doctor x Rose Tyler

─ · · SUMMARY: You thought to be the last remaining Time Lord but that all changes when a certain Rose Tyler catches you breaking into your own apartment and is dead set on introducing you to the Doctor, your husband back on Gallifrey.

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, second person perspective, canon divergence, soulmate au, emotional angst, depictions of anxiety attacks, coarse language, eventual happy ending (but not yet), not beta read.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 4,223

─ · · A/N: I'm so excited to finally be writing this, hope you all enjoy!

─────── · · 

It was easy blending in with human life, a bit too easy, you thought to yourself while carrying your shopping bags up the stairs and around the corner down the hall towards your apartment.

Living in the city made it easy to blend into the crowd and not be questioned, chased or judged. You could simply observe as the world spun around you day after day and as the human race followed its canonical historical calendar.

Sure you could skip time to make everyday Christmas or take a turn around the stars and be back for breakfast but the utter domesticity and simplicity of taking a boring human job, studying at a boring human university, and generally performing a boring human life was a pleasant enough change from the usual or what was the usual at least, you often thought. 

Once reaching the oak door, you jiggled the door handle with a huff before remembering the silly little key the landlord gave you, like that would stop anyone from coming in.

Patting down every pocket and starting to lose hope, you take one long look left and then right before quickly pulling out your sonic screwdriver from your jacket pocket and point it at the lock.

"Excuse me Ma'am, but can I ask you-" a young blonde woman halts your motions causing you to take a sharp breath in through your nose before turning swiftly on the heels of your leather boots, long coat sweeping with the dramatic motion to meet the younger woman's sheepish stare and greeting her with a plastered smile on your painted lips.

"It's The Lady actually, or Lady for short, but I also go by (name, last/name) now… what's your name and how may I assist you?" You tilt your head forwards, eyebrow raised to observe the woman's fashion choices with intrigue as the younger woman appears to do the same to you with squinted eyes.

"Well hello, Lady,” she drags out your old title with a sarcastic tone, “I'm Rose Tyler and I was just about to ask what the hell do you think you're doing breaking into that apartment with that-" she takes a sharp breath inwards, the recognizable type gasp, you thinks to yourself, eyes gone with with pure panic before kicking open your front door and throwing your bags to the floor before starting to rush inside.

Rose grabs your arm, pulling you back into the hall and pinning you against the chipped plaster wall. Blowing a strand of hair from your face, you shake underneath Rose's hold with a huff before managing to shove her off. "You know on this planet I was told they shake hands in greeting- not the whole bloody body!" you exclaim with a huff, adjusting the jacket on your shoulders, sonic screwdriver in hand.

Rose shakes her head, mouth aghast, "how did you get that?" she asks, fingers pointing towards the device in your  hand, taking a step forwards as you take one step back, "Get what?"

"That screwdriver!" Rose reaches out with both hands now, brain half frazzled with her discovery, the other clouded over with worry as to what this woman must have done to the Doctor in order to get that off of him.

"Oh, this?" you dangle the device from between your fingertips before tossing it upwards and catching it with a wink, "got it from the contractor's store on Yonge Street. They were having a sale, I think you may still be able to get the deal, half-off or something like that-"

"Don't lie to me, I know what that is. Now tell me how. did. you. get. that?" Rose demands, hand slipping into her pocket to phone the TARDIS.

"If not a screwdriver then what is it?" you ask, looking over Rose's shoulder and into your apartment, calculating.

"Just answer my question!" Rose yells, phone starting to ring. 

“What is going on out here?!” You both look towards an older blonde woman who steps out from across the hall in what looks to be a dull yellow bathrobe, “and who the hell are- you’ve got to be kidding me, you’ve found another one? Fucking ‘ell Rose Tyler, I’m starting to think danger follows you better then your own shadow!” 

“Mum! Now is not the time please and you-” Rose begins to speak before realizing you had taken down the hall and slammed the apartment door shut with a heavy BANG! Echoing down the hall. 

“Now look at what you’ve done!” Rose huffs, fingers balling up into fists as she walks past her mother to stand in front of your door, knocking repeatedly. 

“And what have I done?” Rose’s mom stands back, arms crossed as she watches her daughter switch between ringing your doorbell and banging on your door. “I know you’re in there! I’ve got words for you!”

Meanwhile inside the apartment, you are rushing around, tripping over the various groceries that have spilled out onto the wooden floors and knocking into the picture frames across the walls. You were not expecting to have to move so soon and to say you were disappointed to have to leave so soon would be an understatement.

Your features hold a frown as you rip open the closet doors and throw every article of clothing out onto your bed in search of a specific piece of luggage. I know I left you here somewhere girl. C’mon I know you must be just dying to get out there again so now’s your chance! Just have to show me where you- your thoughts are cut off by Rose’s relentless pleas as she yells in through the mail slot now. 

Gods that girl is really getting on my nerves now, is this really any way to introduce yourself? You scoff. Turing back out of your room and down the hall to the guest room and closet in search, nearly tipping over a tangerine on your way there with a curse. 

Never liked those fruits either, clementines are superior in every way, why do I torture myself with these things- why do I- oh! There you are, you look at the red luggage with a smile before unzipping it to find the uncovered stairs within and throwing down various papers and gadgets, anything that could link to her identity within the apartment. 

Textbooks, tea, pictures… you felt yourself pausing on the last one of that list, your fingers hovering over the some dozen faces you saw right through that all contained the same hearts and those hearts that you willingly connected yourself to all those centuries ago…

Shaking your head of those distant thoughts you throw the frames down into the luggage before taking one last look towards your… open front door? Shit. You spin on your heel, darting off towards the guest room and falling into your luggage, tumbling down the stairs and finding yourself at the console. 

The machine stirs to life with a joyous tune, Hello! Hello! Welcome back, I have missed you so! You laugh at the voice in your head, I’ve missed you too, girl. Now who’s ready for an adventure? You watch as the room comes to life, every bulb shining to full illumination, switches and dials spinning without your hands to command them and that familiar buzz underneath your feet has you giddy in your shoes- it had been quite awhile since you’ve had a frill… since… you remind yourself not to have such memories before inputting a time and destination and lean back against the rails waiting for the vworp sound to commence. 

But before you can begin to enjoy the sound, a voice calls out to you and not the two you had accounted for in your brain. Grabbing the edge of the console and poking your head around you look to see… Rose?! 

“Do explain yourself,” you cross your arms with squinted eyes. 

“How’re you alive?” Rose rebuttals. 

“Answering a question with another question again?” you tease a smile, biting your lip to hide its spread across your cheeks as you try and maintain a straight face. 

“What are you smiling about? Gods you are just as worse as him! And you started the question-answer thing!” Rose exclaims before taking in a deep breath and meeting your eyes once more, “Okay. I decided to follow you. I was… curious. I’ve travelled with your kind before but had never seen another one of… well you unless you’re the Doctor and decided to regenerate again… but then again we’d be in a blue box not some luggage.”

“The Doctor?” you question in a raised tone, you feel your hearts skip a beat in your chest, no… that couldn’t be… 

“Yeah, the Doctor. Do you know him?... Them? They? I don’t know how you refer to each other in the past,” Rose explains, starting to walk around the console, picking up on the various differences between the two machines she’s travelled inside. 

“I don’t know them,” you lie, turning back to the console and flicking some levers. 

“Really? You don’t know the Doctor?” Rose asks again in a much softer tone. You can feel the disappointment in her tone rattling your bones causing you to shiver at the sound of his name. You could distantly remember the sound of his voice calling after you regenerations ago, feel his touch against your skin, feel the way his essence buzzed with pleasure being combined with your own- “No. I… kept to myself back on Gallifrey,” you lie again. 

“Huh, do you know any other Time Lords?” she peers into the valves at the centre of the console, watching as the flicker between yellow and blue hues like a rampant fire. 

“What is this?- an interrogation Miss. Tyler?” you tease, walking behind the girl to reach the other side of the console as you correct your travel angle to a quarter of the degree, “I’ve met one other one… but he is long gone now…” your voice trails off as you stare at the specks of dirt on your outfit with utmost intrigue. 

Rose apologizes, “sorry.”

“For breaking and entering? Or for questioning me?” you joke, bumping the bad mood off yourself and into her shoulder as you smile at the girl. 

“May I ask a few questions? Since it seems you’re stuck with me now for the next hour or so,” you look down at your watch before tipping your head in the direction of your kitchen, “tea?”

“Yes please.” 

─────── · · 

Rose tells you all about her travels with the Doctor across the years, you don’t miss the sparkle in her eyes nor the sound of her heart soaring, pupils dilating everytime she brings up his name. You remember being that person, in utter awe of his intelligence, wit and wisdom. Put under a spell of his charm, weak to his touch… But with every word she adds, every memory that resurfaces, a new pain settles across your skin that you pick at, eyes flashing with a burning pain at the physical proof that he moved on from me… thought me good as dead… didn’t think of our bond…  

“Are you alright there?” Rose asks, reaching across the table to hold your hands, “I’m really sorry now. I was not thinking how painful it must have been to be alone for so long… you don’t have to be alone anymore though, you could take us back to earth after this adventure and I could introduce you to the Doctor and-”

You squeeze her hands in yours, leaning forwards across the table and letting out a long breath to only answer in a whisper, “it’s okay dear. I rather liked being alone… gives me time to think and after what you’ve told me… I think I need more time than ever.” 

Rose nods, “Are you sure- I think he’d love to meet- I mean okay! But do let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“I will,” you nod back before dropping your touch and leaning back in your chair, “now I do believe you had more questions and I have many answers.” 

“I wish for only the truthful ones,” Rose smiles as you mirror hers to hide the guilt gnawing at your hearts. “How old are you?”

Coughing up a part of your tea with the shock of the question, you laugh, “you know it's rather rude to ask a Lady her age,” you tease, “but I’m.. old… I think I’ve recently reached 900 but I would have to count again. I’ll get back to you on that.” 

Rose nods, “what planet do you like the most?” 

“Earth,” you say instantly. 

“Why?” 

“It's become a second home to me.”

“I’m sorry about what happened to your home planet.”

You look away, remembering the skyscrapers that reached the reddish glow of the homeworld atmosphere. “It was a sad necessity or else the wars never would have stopped,” you explain. 

“Is that what you truly believe?” she whispers, tone anxious, knowing that she really shouldn’t have asked but can’t help but desire to know. You partially admire this trait of hers. 

“It’s what I know,” your head falls, eyes cast to the remaining tea leaves at the bottom of your cup, observing the abstract picture with a frown.

“Lighter question, where are we going?” you shrug, “It didn’t really matter to me then… but with a human aboard…” you stand, speaking to yourself as you look at the travel log on the console, huh, why Earth?

“Say Rose, does Earth, January 2025 ring a bell?” 

“That's the first time I met the Doctor!” Rose smiles, jumping up from her spot and running down the hall to meet you, eyes cast over your shoulder with intrigue. 

“Great,” you smile tightly before slowly turning back to the screen, cursing your TARDIS.

─────── · · 

You could laugh at yourself, back where you started just a few years behind at some random street corner in Scotland. “Now this is not where we met but the time’s the same,” Rose says, eyes cast over wet cobblestones reflecting the setting sun. You let out a breath in relief. 

The streets were quiet as people prepared themselves for work the next day and you took off down the street, peering into various storefronts and cafes, a whole sleepy city all to ourselves, and to think I doubted you girl. You can hear the TARDIS buzz excitedly before quieting down once more within your head. 

“What’re we doing here exactly?” Rose asks, you turn around and shrug, placing your hands into your pockets. 

“Enjoying the world like we’re the last ones on it,” you reply with a smile before tilting your head, “how does a walk around the park sound?”

“Sounds a bit too easy than what I’m used to,” Rose laughs, looping her arm around your own, “usually when I’m with the Doctor the worlds about it end.”

“Is that so?” you mumble, “and what does he do about it?”

“Well, he saves the day of course!” Rose deadpans, scoffing at your question. 

“Does he shoot them? Kill them? Converse with them? How does he save it?” you keep your stare forwards so that Rose cannot pick up on your minute expressions, I know how he ‘saved the day’ last time… you think to yourself bitterly. He left you behind, better left for dead, you watched him do so without a second glance back and now he was with the girl on your arm that you walked around with in a barren Scottish park.  

You cursed yourself in this moment for not being able to move on centuries later, for waiting to feel his soul call out to you once more. You could still feel a part of him, maybe it was hope but you thought-no, knew him to be alive after all of these years. You wondered if he still felt you too but then again… he wouldn’t have gotten with her then… right? You ask yourself.  

You could remember his smile on your skin on your soul-bonding day, your wedding day where two became one for all time, for all existence, until the very end… or at least that's what you gave to him, the promise of forever… but at least he’s happy now… but that thought almost hurt more knowing what he was happy with someone else, you curse yourself for the selfish thought. 

Rose notices you stopped listening to her as she stops walking, causing you to pause alongside her. She walks in front of you, grabbing your shoulders as you tense in wait, remembering how the morning went. “I’m not gonna shake you for all your worth again, don’t worry about that but what’s going through your head? You stopped listening long ago…”

You stare at her, observing her youthful features, worried smile and kind eyes. You feel a stake driving through your chest, the last strand of your bond wilting away painfully slowly, untying itself from inside you causing you to grip your chest as you heave over your knees, falling to the ground. 

“Oh my god, you’re not okay. Shoot, shoot, shoot! You we’re supposed to tell me if I could help with something! I’m going to call the Doctor, okay? He’ll know what to do with a sick Time Lord better than I will, just gimme a minute okay? Don’t go anywhere,” she warns you like a stern mother, finger in your face as she waits for you to nod. You just stare blankly up at her, a singular tear falling from your eye that opens the floodgates to a waterfall. 

You cry out your pain, knowing this to be how heartbreak feels. You remember reading about the science behind the bonds in your youth, enraptured with them. You would become soulmates with someone from them… two parts always able to recognize the other no matter what and even after death. And when treated right, the bond could strengthen and so would the couple and when weakened… so would its parts. 

You felt it vividly. A fire starting up from your feet spreading up to your head as you shook off a sweat in the grass watching as the moon came up from the horizon… I wonder if he’s looking too, feels this too…

─────── · · 

“Doctor!’ Rose yells down the line, eyes watching as you rock yourself back and forth refusing to meet her gaze, actively wincing everytime she tips her head trying to chase your own stare. 

“What? Where are you? I’m waiting outside your flat and your mother keeps staring me through the window like I’m the creep,” the Doctor replies, he feels a pang at his heart as he stares down at his chest, eyebrow raised in question as he touches the hurt gently before hitting his chest with a grunt and standing up straight one more. 

“I’m currently in Scotland-” Rose begins to speak before being cut off by a worried Time Lord. 

“What on Earth are you doing there?! When did this happen?” 

“Well only about two hours or so ago, I met another Time Lord and I kinda became a stow-away, she’s really nice! A bit sassy but I take that’s a part of your species DNA,” Rose rambles, kneeling down by your form, hand outstretched that you flinch away from, she pulls away quickly, feeling guilty for trying in the first place. 

“A what?” the Doctor gasps, vowels open alongside his jaw as he stares at Jackie, not believing a word he hears. 

“A Time Lord, you know console, sonic screwdriver, time travel and all that jazz,” she explains, “and she’s hurt, I don’t know what happened but she looks to be in a lot of pain. Please come quickly… I'm scared for her, I don’t like the thought of you being the last one left when we could have done something about it.”

“C-can you tell me her name?” the Doctor asks gently, sprinting back to his TARDIS.

Rose pauses, did I really just hear the Doctor stutter? She asks herself before responding, “She said her title was Lady but takes on a human name now-”

“Are you absolutely sure that was her name?” the Doctor asks, a sudden wave of sickness has him crashing into the console, gripping its ledge as he sways side to side, impossible, he thinks to himself. 

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“I’ll be there soon,” the Doctor says with utter determination, with utter need, he must see this for himself… see possibly you, “keep your phone on Rose, I’ll track the signal to your location.” 

─────── · · 

You hear as their conversation ends and you stare up at the star filled sky above as the oil lamps flicker on around you both. “If-” you wince at your weak tone, clearing your throat before beginning again, “If he’s coming here then this is where we must part ways… it was… nice getting to meet you Rose. Please, treat him well,” you smile softly up at Rose as she stares down at you, shock evident across her features before they are sculpted sharp into a frustrated expression. 

“You lied to me! You told me you didn’t know him, who are you truly?” she demands, watching as you stand with a wobble on your feet. You can hear the Doctor's muffled voice in her pocket, demanding to know what is going on. You look between both voices before turning back and walking towards your red luggage left on the street corner, “Goodbye Rose!” you yell hearing as she chases after you. 

“Please just tell me who you are, please stay, please-”

You fail to turn around, one foot in your TARDIS, the other on the cobbled streets, another play of history about to be written on these very stones. “I’m the Lady, I’m (name, last/name), and I’m leaving behind the past like I should’ve many centuries ago. Live a good life, Rose. The best life, with many walks in the park… make sure he does the same, okay?” 

Rose stares at you for a long moment, you both look up to watch as a blue box descends from the sky at a rapid speed. “But why can’t you tell me who you are?”

“Let the Doctor tell you whatever he wants you to know… I don’t want to become between you both,” you smile at her one last time before shutting and locking the door behind yourself and setting a course off somewhere you knew yourself never to be found, at least not for a long time. 

─────── · · 

The Doctor falls out the door, cursing as he sees the red box flicker before disappearing before his very eyes. He chases after the spot in which you last stood, shaking his head in disbelief as he grips his hair before turning towards his companion. “You really weren’t lying, there was another Time Lord here,” he blinks rapidly, hearts squeezing in his chest- impossibly tight as he coughs, feeling his airways somehow becoming affected. 

“Doctor? Are you alright?” Rose races to his side, shocked when he flinches away from her touch as if she burned him. “I’m fine just a little under the weather is all, should be good in a minute or two,” the Doctor rushes out to explain, “and are you positive that was her name?”

“Yes!” Rose replies exasperatedly, “why do you keep asking? Who is she? Why- how do you know each other?” 

The Doctor remains silent, choosing his next words carefully as he slowly walks back to the Blue Box, Rose in tow. “We grew up together…but that's a story for another time.”

“Why another time, why not now? She had the same reaction you're having,” Rose presses, taking a step forwards, cornering the man in between two sets of rails. The Doctor keeps his head low, “Is she your friend, companion, ex?” The Doctor does not even breathe. 

“She’s your ex, huh… girlfriend? fiancee?... wife?” Rose whispers the last title underneath her breath catching the way the Doctor’s breath hitches as he takes in a sharp breath of air.

“So that’s why you could never call anything official?” Rose questions yet she knows the answer. She blinks rapidly, stepping back as she is confused as to how to feel. She knew him to be a centuries old creature, lived longer and will live longer than she ever could, ever would and yet… she couldn’t help but feel disturbed knowing that in the few years they shared together… he hadn’t been entirely truthful. 

“What else are you hiding from me, Doctor?” she whispers underneath her breath. The Doctor remains silent, simply staring down at his converse, gripping the rail behind him with white knuckles. “I thought her to be dead, could feel it up in here,” he points up to his head in explanation.

Rose strides forwards, painted finger poking at his chest, he swears to feel it underneath his suit, gritting his teeth at the pricking feeling that spreads across his warm chest. “But you failed to listen here, didn’t you?” 

─────── · · 

↳ Taglist: @just-levyy

[victorluvsalice]

Happy Birthday hauntedcllhouse!

@hauntedcllhouse As per your request, here's Victoria and your OC daughter Lily hanging out in the ocean together, discussing stockings and the wearing thereof. :p Hope you enjoy!

--

“I’m just saying, Mamma, if I don’t have to wear stockings, I don’t see why you do.”

“Because it’s what’s done,” Victoria said simply, shaking her head at her daughter as they floated together, bobbing in the gentle swell of the ocean tides. “A polite woman in society makes sure she is properly dressed for all occasions. And that includes a proper set of stockings.”

“Yes, but – Mamma, are we actually in society?” Lily pressed, spinning herself around with one hand to look Victoria in the eye. “You and Daddy never attend any of the parties that Grandmother Van Dort sends you invitations to, despite all her complaining. And you barely keep up any correspondence with the people Grandmother Everglot has introduced you to, despite all of her complaining. We spend most of our time at home in the village, keeping to ourselves and not entertaining anyone. Even on this trip, we’re not going to any balls or dances or dinners – we’re walking the promenade and going to museums and swimming.” She sent a little playful wave of water at her mother. “There’s no one to impress with your stockings!”

“I – we’ve attended a few luncheons,” Victoria said, though even she knew that wasn’t much of an argument. “Played a round of croquet with Lord and Lady Kingsleigh. And we have visitors at home from time to time. We’re not total shut-ins.”

“Still! We’re hardly hobnobbers,” Lily said, kicking her feet idly. A faintly-wicked grin crossed her face. “And besides, Mamma, all your dresses reach the floor. No one could possibly see if you decided not to wear stockings. Why, you could get away with not even wearing shoes!”

“I most certainly could not,” Victoria declared, laughing. “Everyone would be able to tell in a moment just from my footprints in the carpet!”

“Oh, let them see your footprints,” Lily said, tossing her head as she spun away from her again. “Feet aren’t evil, you know.” She wiggled her toes in Victoria’s general direction. “Just occasionally funny-looking.”

“Be that as it may, I don’t think anyone coming to tea at our house would appreciate knowing that I’d served them barefooted. It seems at least somewhat unhygienic.”

“Why? Are you making the tea with your feet?”

Victoria snorted, then shook her head and used her arm to paddle a little closer to her daughter. “Lily, I know you think some of the rules of society are silly,” she said gently. “And that you hate the idea of anybody being forced to do something they don’t wish to. But when it comes to wearing stockings, nobody is forcing me to do anything. I like wearing stockings. I don’t feel properly dressed without them on – depending on circumstances,” she added, looking down at her bathing suit. “And I don’t think I’d feel comfortable wandering about without them, even if nobody could actually see.” She pulled tugged her daughter close to plant a salty kiss on her forehead. “I promise I won’t ever make you wear them if you don’t want. But when it comes to me – well, I do want.”

Lily squinted at her a moment – then sighed. “All right, Mamma,” she said. “I won’t throw them all away in the middle of the night. But I still think it’s silly.”

“Well, you’re allowed to think that.” Victoria gave her a little smile. “But also think this – what do you think your Grandmother Everglot would do to me if she ever knew that I was improperly dressed for an occasion?”

Lily wrinkled her nose. “She shouldn’t do anything – you’re your own person,” she snapped, then deflated. “But you’re right. I wouldn’t want to hear her carry on either.”

“Exactly – and neither does your father,” Victoria said, releasing her and going back to drifting. “Or your other mother, even if she can much more easily get away. So I think I’ll keep my stockings on.”

“Fine.” Lily tilted her head as a breeze passed over them, as if listening to some unseen whisper. “But – perhaps you could at least get some prettier ones than just plain white? Grandmother Everglot couldn’t object to patterns if they match your dress.”

Victoria flashed her a grin. “Now that I think I could take under advisement.”

[antiquepearlss]

Tiana The Series really needs to hire me as a writer because I’ve already got plans on how we’re going to subtly incorporate tts into it.

[sieglinde-freud]

s support

[psalmsofpsychosis]

i love waking up and being me because i be out there interacting with people in the most ordinary and uneventful way possible and still the most innocent well-intentioned remark could set me the fuck off. A stranger guy (very normal and non-threatening) come over to make conversation and told me "there's something very calm about you which kind of makes you pretty approachable," aaaaaaand boom. Now i'm in 89% defense mood and ready to snap your neck in half if you look at me a certain way.

[sk3l3t0n444]

yk ive never really had a full blown breakup but god does it hurt to not know the relationship status until you both just dont ever talk anymore and just slowly drift apart until theyre just a memory

[woundedheartwithin]

Kazama Kimichika: Kyojo Zero (2023)

[empress-lillith]

Fuck I reached 30 tags I guess that got us rambling

For full context I guess read those first cuz I'm not putting all that here again

We got started on mythology and bitch were not close to being done

What I was about to put in another tag was:

I'm interested but I'm not gonna read scientific papers on mythology sorry Africa and Oceania...

European is just the easiest to come by and most relatable mythology. Being. A filthy European.

Although I'd love to hear more shit about mythologies that are more exotic to us

And no. I don't mean japanese. That's barely exotic at this point.

No I'm not reading journey to the west again either.

I could go on for so long honestly I fucking love mythology with a passion I wish I had more energy and patience to get deeper into it

But yeah no I'm not sitting down reading research papers or ancient texts that aged horribly for hundreds of hours

At least not with these mental illnesses I'm not

i made a character uquiz. i 100% promise you that you will get a character you know AND like

[arolesbianism]

I've been thinking abt new game+ friend quests and it's just me going ah yes and they have all these issues and talk abt these things and oh oops this is all accidental foreshadowing

[squintsintwink]

I love posting gallery builds bc I get to make silly descriptions about the most simple beach in the history of sims 4 beach builds

[tonycries]

I-T G-I-R-L!

Synopsis. Making big, powerful boys break beg and follow your every whim? Easy!

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, NÉEDY boys, making them whine, bondagé, creampíes, GOJO’S POWERS, chokíng Geto, use of “good boy”, cúmplay, spítting, making them CRY, MAJOR overstím, bégging (THEM), pússy-slappíng, oraI (fem receiving), face-ríding, matíng presses, dry húmping, overspill, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k (whew)

A/N. Woke up n’ decided I wanna bully them so here we are. Have a lovely day <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - MR. AND MRS.

“P-please.”

“What was that?”

“Fuck you-”

It was low - begging - and for the first time, you have that syrupy sweet privilege of hearing Toji’s husky baritone break with such a whiny crack at the end. 

Smugly, you swipe an index right across where your puffy pussy was straddling his poor, overworked cock. Collecting the saturated mess along his furious length - still so swollen with the sheer volume he’d been gushing out tonight. All the way up, up, up to that messy puddle of seed glistening all over his flinching abs. “Then…I guess m’not letting you cum inside, Toji. Again.”

“No! No no no- oh.” Toji’s burst of pained moans are cut off when you shove your fingers between his bruised lips. Dewy, green eyes rolling to the back of his head with each suck and slurp at their milky white sheen. “Fuck- you little-” And despite how furious he sounds, you could feel the very tip of his fat head thicken, twitching a jagged pattern along your cervix. With a low growl, Toji narrows his gaze, biting down on your now-clean digits with his sharp canines, “I said- please, my girl.”

Just that simple plea has your boyfriend’s jaw clenching, teeth gritted so viciously at the way you’ve been oh-so-coyly denying him the one thing he’s wanted for what feels like hours now. 

“Louder.” your lips curl into a devilish grin, back arching in that perfect bow Toji loved so much. Only deepening the lingering rolls of your hips down his needy tip. “Didn’t hear ya.”

“F-fuck.” Toji’s throwing his head back, thick fingers coming down to splay out across your bent thighs. “Can you- please-” You could feel every minute flex of his muscled thighs when he efforts to buck your sloppy hips deeper - faster - down his fat cock. Only to be halted by ten mean fingernails of yours pinning him down by his curving pecs, “-please. Wan’ cum inside- let me cum inside goddammit, woman.”

Of course, you decide to tease him by slowing down your pace even more. Letting your sloppy pussy just stroll down every greedy inch of his dick. Trying to hold back your content giggle, “I dunno…”

And Toji thinks he could yell out in frustration, he thinks he could sob, “Fuck- I said please. Pretty please? What more do you fucking want?”

He sounded so devastated. And you swear you could spy wet, bulbous tears at the corners of his long lashes, the familiar scar along his lips wobbling with such precious need. 

“Hmm–” you’re letting out such a sultry drag of your voice, taking so much of your sweet sweet time that Toji thinks he’s about to lose his mind. About to just flip your bratty self over and shove his thoroughly teased cock into you until you forget about that looming threat of not letting him paint your insides white. Fuck, the things he does for you-

“Call me your wife.”

Shit - Toji’s darkened eyes widen at your little request, jaw hanging open in disbelief and-

“That’s it?” he laughs - laughs. Rumbling out of his broad chest in a hoarse rasp, and those two strong arms of his tug down your limp body to kiss teasingly at your jutted-out lips. Slipping his hot tongue between the seams, “S’all because my hah- baby wanted to be my- my pretty lil’ wife. Well-” Any and every retort is fucked out of your mind when Toji’s spearheading into your mushy g-spot with a harsh rut of his hips. “-what my wife wants, my wife gets.”

The bed is creaking with every riotous slam, smearing the velvety pool of cum even farther between your bodies. Sticking to you like a sloppy second skin, strings of lewd juices form and snap when his massive cock stretches your gummy walls until they gape. 

“Shit- shit shit shit, if I knew that was all you wanted-” you’re feeling the languid drag of Toji’s happy trail scratch your throbbing clit. “Please- I would’ve been fucking my wife for s-so long now. Silly girl, s’all I’ve ever wanted- would’ve begged, gotten on my knees-”

“Hngh! Fuck-” you’re squealing when you feel him drip with even more saturated precum to coat your snug channel. One calloused palm of his coming between the two of your slick bodies to smear across the mess from his sweet highs, deftly angling them so that the rounded tips of his fingers are stuffing your leaky pussy with sloppy globs of his seed every time you’re slamming down. 

“Now now–”  It’s all you can do to gulp in heaving breaths to make your tone sound warning, but even that sounds too breathless - and both of you know it. Babbling away, “-don’t get so cocky- might just- hah, change my mind, husband.”

And fuck. Oh fuck. 

Your poor cunt just throbs when in a split-second, Toji’s mouth slacks even further, wrenching out a guttural groan. 

And then your gushing walls are milking out every ribbon of velvety cum that splurges into your tight pussy. It’s so much - too much, painting your insides all white with his seed. Toji’s gasping at the feeling of it sloshing around your elastic walls in slow, clingy swivels coating the both of you. 

His breath hitches when he spies down at the obscenely white mess below, globs of his cum slobbering messily down your inner thigh. Fuck, he’s never - never - came before you. This was-

“This better be a proposal, y’know.” you hum in amusement. “Or it would be interesting that you came early just becaus-”

“The fuck else would it be?” Toji’s gruffing out, two warm hands gliding to grip onto the globes of your ass. Still irritated. Still embarrassed. 

Ignoring your titter, he rams your teasing hips down with a sharp smack! like he was branding all five fingers onto your skin. Plugging your ravaged entrance shut with his weepy dick to stop even more of that thick, gushing cum from trickling out. You mewl when you feel his swelteringly wet tip quirk at the very bottom of your spongy cervix in interest, “Now be quiet and let me fuck you properly as my wife.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Hands-on intervention…

“You really are trying to get us fired, huh, my love?” he’s murmuring gently, “What do you think you’re doing this late, hm?”

Now, Nanami knew he shouldn’t have taken on those extra documents, he knew he should’ve been back home by now. Wrapped up in you and your cute gossip about what happened in your department today.

But here he was, sitting at his empty office. With you - stubborn as you are - straddling him like such a slut on top of his heavily manspread, muscular thighs, his favorite late-night snack. His coworker. His wife. 

“I should hah- ask you the same thing, Ken.” you’re grinning, the sinfully tight satin of your skirt hiking up with each slow, teasing roll of your drooly cunt against his clothed erection. It’s so messy. Your syrupy saturated slick mixing in with Nanami’s steadily beading precum. “Didn’t we both agree to no more late nights?”

He’s heaving out a shaky sigh, running a warm hand up and down your arched spine, “I know, I know. I apologize.”

That frantically achy little pulse of your slick-glossed cunt on top of him told him that he wasn’t forgiven just yet. And Nanami gulps - loosening that yellow, speckled tie of his with the tight bobbing of his Adam’s apple. Rich tone shaky - shuddering, even, “How- how do you want me to make it up to you, darling?”

You’re batting your lashes at his expansive mahogany desk. “Well…”

Of course he should’ve seen where this was going - with your high-heel-clad feet swiveling high in the air, digging into his broad shoulders. Stitches in your poor skirt popping and tearing with each bullying thrust your husband’s planting on your ravaged in this tight mating press. 

“K-Ken—” you’re letting out such a sickly sweet moan when his fat, weepy tip collides with the very bullseye of your sensitive g-spot. Your fingers work deftly to reach into your skirt pocket - pulling out that familiar tiny hot-pink bullet vibrator.

“Walkin’ around with that during work?” Nanami gasps, barely tearing his eyes away from that heavenly sight of your swollen pussy entrance wrapped around his girthy shaft. “Such a dirty girl you-” 

“Oh s’not for me.” 

And fuck, Nanami can only watch - can only gape his clenched jaw open when your devious fingers dip the feverishly shaky vibrator down, down, down to kiss so delicately at his thick hilt. 

“Oh!” His towering body wracks with a shiver, full, heavy balls clenching so tightly. Hammering his rawly aching cock so thoroughly into you, hips pistoning forwards with the carnal need for more more more- “Wait- Fuck! M-my love?”

“Yes–?” you’re humming, low and sultry and oh Nanami already knows he’s gone. He can only pray he leaves with his sanity intact. 

Splaying out two large hands on the sides of your head, the documents on top rustle in sync with those saturatedly hypnotic squelches echoing from your ravishing cunt. “Is this- s’this oh, fuck- please.” Nanami screws his eyes shut when you’re holding down the device even harder onto his glistening shaft. “S’this- is it- because I broke our hah- promise?”

“Maybe.” you’re breathing out into his panting mouth. So enveloped by his weighty figure that it was almost difficult to work your little magic. “Maybe I just got tired of waitin’ around for you to finish overtime, Ken.”

“Please!”

Over and over. That tiny spark is enough to have him barrelling back into your dripping wetness with reckless abandon. 

He’s so utterly ruined - glasses sliding down his high nose-bridge, thighs quivering with sensitive need. And you could just feel every fresh wave of heated precum painting your cunt in a glossy new coat. “Fuck- tell me please. Please, darling, m’begging.”

“Promise me no more overtime.” You’re grinning, fingers still steady tracing his most sensitive spots. 

“P-promise…”

“N’ to always hurry home to me?”

“I promise! I promise- promise to always come home- to you- always. Please-” he’s startling you with a soft pad of his thumb rolling over your neglected clit. Such a low, broken keen leaving him at when you start drawing harsh, methodical circles on the sensitive spots along his length. “N-no more overtime. Please please please- feels too good- what do I do- what-”

Ah, success looked so pretty.

Nanami’s eyes were already so watery, stern lips trembling with little apologies about “never workin’ overtime again.” So uncharacteristically disheveled in a way that makes your mouth water.

“Shit-” you hiss when that pointed nub of the vibrator accidentally hits your widely stretched-out pussy. The velvety cling of your walls making him hiss furiously. Disrupting, fat tip nudging all those crevices along your snug channel. “Hah- don’t think I’d let you off so-”

Before you can react, he’s hiking a long leg up on the desk to angle his crashes with scary accuracy. Just colliding against your bulbous g-spot with no hesitation. Pushing, with the very edge of his weepy tip - far, so far that you could scream.

Over and over and over- So elastically stretching out your snug hole to your limits to take him in all his long, throbbing entirety. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck I know, I know.” He’s alternating between long, rough strokes to shove you further and further up the cool desk, and shallow lingering grinds to mold your pretty walls to the exact form of his swollen shaft. “I’ll do anything- anything, please just- cum.”

It only takes a few more calculated pistons of his hips, and a touchy, teasing smack! onto your weepy cunt before you’re crashing headfirst into your orgasm. Cumming all around his wildly twitching shaft, your velvety walls just mending all around the shape of his pretty cock. Your toes curl, back arching into such a bowing bend. And in the split-second your grip weakens, Nanami’s seizing that hot pink devil in your hand.

“F-fuck wait-” you squeal at at familiar bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzt echoing across the filled-out walls of your cunt. Squeezing inside the tight fit where Nanami’s fat shaft was nestling, tremoring so deliciously against each and every one of your sweet spots. Stuffing you full. “What-”

“Don’t forget - you’re working overtime, too, my love.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - No need for air

“F-fuuuck, gorgeous.” Geto’s melodic moan makes your cunt throb, a fresh gush of your sweet sweet juices slobbering down to where he was slapping your puffed-up clit with his fat head. The angry divot of his tip smacking up once, twice onto the too-sensitive nub. 

“So fuckin’ wet f’me-” he whispers from behind, gliding a thumb across the glossy sheen trickling down from the corners of your slit. The sight of his glistening fingers makes him bare you with such a crazed, feral grin, feeding you inch by fucking in languid, bullying rams. “-almost makes me forget the hand around my throat.”

At this, your nails are digging in even deeper around the pale, long column of his throat. Leaving neat, red indents that stand out. And you swear you could spy his leering grin grow even wider at that sinful sting. 

“What about it, Sugu?” you’re grinning over your shoulder. Gasping for air at how relentlessly he was trying to squeeze his fat shaft through that tight, glossy ring of muscle. 

Each drag of his throbbing shaft has your fingers tightening more around his throat. Making Geto feel so woozy and lightheaded with each little grind into the glistening channel past your puffy folds. “Heh, really like fuck- it rough like this, huh?” A low groan drags at the back of his throat when you start pushing your limp hips back in a jerky little cadence to try and meet his. “Shit- shit shit shit s’too good. You’re suckin’ me up so tight s’almost hard to fuck into ya. Almost makes me wanna-”

“Cum inside?” 

This earns you a punishing smack! on your bulging cunt, cool metallic rings of his burning into your skin. So sopping wet and struggling to expand your gummy walls around his expanding girth. Drawing out a dark chuckle from the depths of his chest, “Real funny, gorgeous. You and I both hah- know s’jus’ your hngh! cockdrunk mind talking.”

“Nooo—” you’re tugging him in a desperate, vice-like grip to crash your lips against his. Whining against his lips, “S’not. Really really want you to cum inside, Sugu. F’me - please? Like a good boy?” 

It was a little slip of your tongue - really - and you didn’t expect anything more than another teasing slap to your cunt, maybe even a joke at your expense.

But what you didn’t expect was for the sloppy cadence of Geto’s hips to falter just a bit. You’re turning your head just in time to catch that glassy, far-away look in his eyes, jaw slacking open to let out a shocked gasp. You hear a sharp pop! from his toned hips before they’re surging forwards to barrel your poor cunt with every weighty inch of his girth. 

Over- and over and over- One large hand of his is catching around yours to squeeze - warningly. Letting out a strangled, “G-gorgeous…”

Oh? 

Brows quirking, you’re batting your lashes so syrupy slow, “Are you gonna be my good boy, Sugu? Make me a momma?”

Another lewd push and pull, having you bouncing back on Geto’s sharp hipbones with such loud smacks! of skin-on-skin. Ringing into the humid, heady air and wracking his body with almost-painful shivers. 

“F-fuck–” He’s struggling to find the words - to even think with his melty mess of a mind. Such a delicate blush burns at Geto’s scowling cheeks when you’re facing him with a surprised grin - one he hides by latching his lips onto the crook of your neck, hiding away the smile threatening at his plump lips. “God- you’re gonna be the death of me. Don’t you fuckin-”

Your firm grip grows even firmer, resolving to him choking in large, breathy exhales. “Good boy.” Craning your arm around deftly to cup his pretty cheek. “You’re gonna do what I say, right?”

Shit, he was a goner.

It has the same effect, and once again, your big bad boyfriend is reduced back into a whiny mess. He’s planting two strong legs on the drenched silken sheets to fully fuck his bullying cock all the way into the back of your plushy pussy. 

Usually sharp tongue so heavy and slurring. Babbling out little pleas into the rhymically jiggling valley of your breasts - “Ohhh yes- yes yes yes please let me- wanna- m’your good boy, right? Let me cum inside, hngh shit! Wan’ you to take it- ah- a-all, make you a momma.” 

He lets out wet, feverish pants when you drag him close enough to moan that dangerous little word into his mouth. “Please? Please let me?” Geto nuzzles his cheek into your soft palm, heady movements so slow. Syrupy - like he was moving through molasses. And it’s like he doesn’t even realize what he’s doing when he’s popping one of your fingers into his mouth. Delicate pink lips looking so pretty - depraved - wrapped around your ring finger. “Wanna knock you up- hah marry you.” His eyes roll to the back of his head, “Put a ring on this finger- n’ a baby in ya pretty pussy.”

Meeting that increasingly ruthless cadence by fucking back to memorize each thumping ridge, each prominent vein along his girthy shaft. Twitching. Angry. He’s nodding - nodding so feverishly - tears crinkling glisteningly at the corners of his lids. “Please- please call me that again. Let me make you a momma, please.”

You don’t get to hear the rest of his sentence, because it only takes a few more solid, thorough swallows of his rummaging cock before he’s speechless. So fucking pussydrunk he can’t piece together anything but your name followed by a slurred-out string of profanities. Close. Too close. 

Staring into Geto’s heavy, half-lidded gaze, you whisper such a saccharine sweet, “Then, cum inside f’me like a good boy, Sugu.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Crybaby.”

It’s by the second orgasm that Choso feels a bit jittery, thighs quivering uncontrollably, chest heaving up and down in pained, ragged little gasps. 

It’s by the fourth that Choso feels nervous, he trusts you - of course, he does, you’re his sweet girl after all - and yet he can’t help that churning heat in his pulse. Heavy balls squeezing weakly with each glide of your soft palm down his red, achingly stimulated length. 

It’s only by the fifth that Choso is sobbing, big fat tears trailing down to his glossy lips. Such a rosy red and bitten in worry, hips fucking up in jagged, mindless little grinds. Oh, it takes everything in Choso to not cling on desperately to your feverish hand right now - dwarfed by his sheer girth, so glossy with a thick sheen of precum - yet still dragging up and down relentlessly. Treating him like some toy. 

“Baby–” your beloved boyfriend’s wet gasp catches in his throat when you swivel a curious thumb underneath his sensitive slit. Letting a fresh gush of his saturated precum glisten down to your wrist. “Baby baby baby- please. P-please, I don’t think I can- ngh- give y’anymore.”

“I think you can.” your leveled hum cuts through his frantic pleas. “Don’t you think? After all, you were so happy getting off to my panties like this, weren’t you? Ruining them?”

It’s like the very memory of his shameful act has Choso fucking his jerky hips up into your soft touch, arching his muscled back into a beautiful curve on your soaked bedsheets. Oh, how embarrassed he felt - how shameful, being caught in the very act by you, fingers deep in your panty drawer. 

Despite his very obvious need, he’s shaking his barely-lucid head. Damp, dark tresses sticking to his sweat-glossed forehead, curtaining those glassy eyes. Slurring out, “Fuck! Please m’sorry m’sorry I don’t think- can’t-”

So deceivingly innocently, you’re batting your lashes in a way that has his massive girth jolting ferally in your hand, “But that’s all I really want, Cho~?”

“...”

Leaning down, Choso could feel your mean smirk against his hotly flushed skin. Dragging up his salty trail of tears, kissing so gently meanwhile your next words made him think he’d pass out. Sultry, and whispered right against the shell of his ear, “Then we better make this last one count, right?”

“Ah!” he’s yelping, large hands scrambling for the sheets - the headboard - you when you seat yourself so prettily on his splayed-out lap. Greedy cunt feeding into every long, solid inch of his achy cock in an easy glide. It felt so good - it hurt so good. Fuck, he thinks he’s gonna-  “-die.” Choso rasps, jittery hands coming to rest at your waist. “Think m’gonna die- gonna- fuck fuck fuck-”

You didn’t even have to think of moving, yet - because all it takes is for Choso’s gushy tip to be swallowed up by your snug channel - the slightest taste of heaven, the slightest squeeze - before you’re being slammed down onto the plush mattress.

Breath puffing out of your lungs, gasping at the sheer stretch when your dangling legs are being thrown over Choso’s broad shoulders. Wrapping tight into a vice-like grip when he folds you in half, down, down, down into the meanest mating press you didn’t think either of you capable of.

But rationality was the last thing on Choso’s mind, right now. 

“Baby—” he’s hissing, fully sheathed inside your dripping cunt to that thick hilt of his. He gulps at the stars bursting behind his lids with each slow, lingering grind. Nuzzling into your touch, “Baby, can’t b-believe you’ve ahh- brought me to this state. M’sorry hah- please forgive me.”

And you almost feel bad - that is, until Choso’s swiping his fat tip against your spongy cervix. Still feeling every single pads of your fingers burning down his raw shaft every time your puffy cunt milks him tight. He’s jutting in jerky, unmethodical little humps - feeling less human than just sheer need. 

“W-well-” you’re gasping, when he gives such a ruthless smash into your bruisingly bulging g-spot. Bonelessly, you wrap your arms around his pale neck, tugging him in so close. A full-body shudder wracks through his entire body when you crane your glossy lips up to bite down on his ear lobe, “-how about you cum f’me again to make up for those three limited edition panties you stole.”

His jaw falls even more slack at your little sentence, a shiny trail of drool dripping from the corners of his ravaged lips. 

“Baby, please.” he’s hissing, moving pistoning even sloppier into you as if on autopilot. A cracking ah! ah! ah! leaves Choso’s mouth at every bullying crash against your g-spot, every dizzying thrust. “Anything else. Please please-”

Through his blurry vision, the blood roaring in his ears, Choso could make out your soft suckling kiss against his slack lips. “Cum f’me, Cho.”

Maybe it’s that honeyed little nickname, maybe the way the curve of your thumb glides away his mess of syrupy saliva. Or maybe it was the way your velvety walls come to form around him so tight - squeezing almost meanly. Once. Twice. 

Choso doesn’t know - nor does he fucking care right now.

“F-fuck I can’t believe-” his eyes snap so comically wide open, letting out such a long, drawn-out drawl of your name. Hips stuttering to smack forwards, “-m’cumming- shit, it hurts- it feels so good. M’cumming m’cumming-”

Choso cums - in ghosting, wispy streams of almost-translucent fluid. Withering out into nothing, until his poor, overworked cock is spurting out just blank heavals. Cumming dry, the only signs of him fucking you through his high being that shaking in his thighs, that frantic twitching of his shaft - flinching to nudge into each dripping sweet spot inside you. 

And his broken, pleading cries, “Fuck- m’buying you the hah- wh-whole store. Fuck- please, baby just-” Nudging his sobbing cock even deeper to brand at your cervix, “-just one more.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - TASTE

“You little-”

“What?” you’re leering down at the great Ryomen Sukuna. Pink locks splayed out across the decadent silk sheets, pretty face framed so perfectly by your thighs. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Not quite.” his long, rosy tongue licks a strip up your exposed skin. All the way up from about midway at your inner thigh to just the edges of your drippingly wet panties. Syrupy sweet, and see-through with all your juices. “You really think this is gonna make me say sorry for uh-”

You have to stifle a low laugh when Sukuna cuts himself off with a ragged hitch of his breath. Sharp, cursed eyes widening - just a fraction - honing in to let his greedy tongue loll out. It takes him only a split-second to catch that droopy ooze of your slick, beading through your sopping slit and right onto the middle of his tastebuds. 

“Mmm-” he’s licking that lewd little gloss all over his lips without even a shred of abashedness. “Where- uh where were we, brat?”

Without warning, you’re lacing your fingers through his surprisingly soft strands. Pulling - hard enough to make him groan - until the tip of Sukuna’s nose was just kissing at the lacy mound of your cunt. 

“I believe…” you’re smirking at the way that’s all it takes for him to slide the thick seam of his tongue between the thin fabric of your panties. Red - to match his eyes. Not wasting even a second when he lets your honeyed sweet cunt drool all the way down to the back of his throat. “Not gonnna make him say sorry” your ass. “-you were in the middle of apologizing for forgetting our little dinner date.”

You don’t think he hears you - you don’t even think he breathes. Because with one, final shuddering breath puffed out onto your quivering pussy, Sukuna is meshing his lips with yours in such a messy kiss. Fast, thirsty. Clashing against your swollen folds, slurping past your flimsy excuse of panties to latch around your throbbing clit. He’s hollowing out his cheeks to give them harsh, methodical little sucks. 

“Shit- mmpf- fuck I always forget how sweet you are.” he’s rasping, two large hands coming up to spread the globes of your ass. Pushing you up, up, up to slobber all your saturated slick down the lower half of his face - his cheekbones. “C’mon now, ride my nose- hah, use me with this cute cunt like you always do.”

Fuck, was it tempting. And it takes everything in you to tug away his salivating mouth with a loud squelch! And if you didn’t know any better, you’d have said that the infamous king of curses let out a whine - a whine - watching those delicate strings of spit and slick snap away when you hoist yourself off his greedy mouth.  

“What the fuck, woman?”

“I told you, Kuna.” you whine out, as scoldingly as you can. Wrangling against those big beefy arms trying to desperately pull you back down, “You hafta apologize.”

You’re teetering precariously when Sukuna’s entire chest rumbles with a groan, eyes rolling so sassily. “What did you want me to do?” he clicks his tongue. Baring you with such dangerous fangs that glisten with your juices in the dim light. “Had to kill off some scum curses, s’not my fault. M’not apologizing for- shit-”

Any and every retort is knocked out of his mean mouth at that heavenly sight of you running your trembly fingers between your puffed-up pussy lips. Pushing past your panties to run them up and down where your dripping wet cunt needed you most. 

“Oh?” you’re quirking a brow at how transfixed he was. Following that shuddering gulp when you roll your neglected clit between two fingers. “Cat got your tongue now?”

His jaw slacks open when you’re teasing your winking hole, glossed-up and already so pliant with where Sukuna had just dipped the edge of his soft tongue inside. His mouth waters at the memory, “I–”

“Or is it that you just don’t hah-” you’re arching your back even more to give him the perfect view. Fingers getting a bit more frenzied, circling around the very edge of that ring of muscle the way you knew he loved to do. “-want this-” Whining out, “-Kuna–?”

That was it.

“Fuck, sit-” Sukuna’s gritting out through clenched teeth. And when you’re only stagnating and hovering tempestuously in front of him, he wraps all four large arms around the small of your waist. “-fucking sit, woman.” 

You’re squealing at the force of his inhuman strength, dragging you down unceremoniously onto his awaiting mouth. With this, he’s spitting on your cunt. Once. Twice. Three whole times to add to the glistening gloss that collected down your folds. 

“M’sorry, see?” he goads pridefully. Oh, if anyone heard the cruel king of curses apologizing like this, they’d faint. Giving the fat of your ass a branding smack! Hard enough that he could feel all five bumps of his sweltering fingers on your skin. “Fuckin’ little- oh- spoiled little-” But Sukuna can’t even finish his sentence - can’t even think about it with his mind so saturated. Hot tongue mashing in to swerve and drag across those sweet spots hidden at your plushy walls. “Said m’sorry, s’this good enough for you?”

Your pussy such a sopping wet mess that Sukuna can’t help but kiss again. And again. And again and again and- “See m’sorry. M’so, so sorry- fuck just never take this pretty pussy away from me, little brat.” 

And now you’re sure he lets out a whimper - raspy, and a few octaves higher than his usual baritone. So deep now that he was just cinching your pulsing clit across his sharp nose. Murmuring, “Stop laughing- can feel ya shaking- before I cancel our dinner reservation for tomorrow. M’renting out the whole fuckin’ restaurant, so ya better give me my fill.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Bed chem.

“It won’t-” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that the great Gojo Satoru was pleading right now. Praying. Voice shot, pretty pink lips wobbly, pale hand raw and red from tugging on those fluffy handcuffs. He’s pouting, “Won’t work.”

He was so picture-perfect, restrained tight to the headboard with those customized handcuffs you’d ordered. Blinking his weepy, blue eyes droopily, slurring words that were all bark and no bite. 

You’re rolling your eyes, giving his spit-glossed lips a lingering little peck, “Didn’t think you were such a pussy, Toru?”

“F-fuck who are you calling a-” It makes your cunt absolutely drip with a fresh wave of honeyed juices when you give his sensitively overworked shaft another thorough glide of your drooling walls. Meshing your pussy lips with the very hilt of his angry, red cock. “Please- fuck when you’re riding me like that, sweetheart.” he’s yanking frantically on those restraints as if to hold onto your feverishly gliding body. “Think- hngh! Think I really will explode-”

“Oh?” you’re cutting through his babbles, eyes flitting over his powerful arms, those glassy eyes that just seemed to glow in the dim bedroom lighting. “I knew I wasn’t seeing things, so you do think that- ah- your powers are linked to you-”

Your thoughts are spiraling into a gooey mess when Gojo’s uncontrollably strengthened thighs leverage themselves on the silken mattress to just rut up into your squelching pussy. 

“Jus’ wanna see, Toru.” you’re huffing, reaching a hand behind your ruthless hips to palm at his painfully squeezing balls. Rolling the soft pad of your thumb over the curve of their straining texture - just the way he liked it, “Wan’ you to cum f’me. Just wanna see.”

“Using all your dirty tricks-” he’s spitting, mouth sagging open to let you plant a few somewhat apologetic kisses down Gojo’s face. “I can’t-” Another harsh buck of his hips, and with such a loudly pornographic mewl he’s bullying his overwhelmed cock up, up, up to swerve into your neverendingly sloppy staccato - right into your sweet spots. “Fine- fucking fine- hah- use me. Use me for whatever- just, please. Fuck I just wanna cum- please—”

You’re very quickly realizing that those handcuffs can do nothing to restrain Gojo Satoru. In fact, the only reason they’re still on him unscathed was purely out of indulging in your cute little play. 

Gifting you with such a sexily cocksure grin he tries to mask away his furious flush, his trembling voice with, “N-no, m’not a- hngh! M’not some grade 4 sorcerer. I’m the fuuuck- strongest, why would my powers go out of control when I cum- fuck-

Gojo’s blabbering mouth is cut off with each gripping slide down his achy cock. Molding your plushy walls to each of his eager twitches, so fucking massive that you had to balance your hands on your boyfriend’s broad deltoids to even have him reach each hidden deep spot inside you. 

It makes him throw his head back, it makes him cry out, it makes him whine. 

And it only takes a few more churning strokes of Gojo’s hips, a few more critical mashes into the spongy bullseye of your g-spot before you’re cumming. So hard that you don’t even realize it at first. 

Gojo does, though - of course, he does - fighting back against the velvety cling of your cunt to fuck you into the desk so deeply. So purposefully that he can almost feel every indented bruise of his fat tip hitting against your slick cervix, your bouncy g-spot. Wave after wave having you milking the fucking soul out of him and-

“Fuck m’gonna-” he’s whining, hips stuttering upwards like they’re pained to pull back from your heavenly pussy. If even just to thrust his greedy length all the way back in. Gojo’s breaths come out in ragged pants, chest heaving up and down. Somehow, the hairs on your body raise, and you can feel that familiar tension of pressurized atoms. “Can’t hah- last much longer. Fuck- please. M’close- gonna cum gonna-”

That sobbing little divot at the end of his angry, thick head just bursts with thick, long ribbons upon ribbons of sloshing white cum. Gliding across every inch of your tight pussy, coating all your insides in a creamy color that was so Gojo. 

It’s so much - dripping down the corners of your bulging slit in oozing little dredges, making such a mess of your rapidly overfilling cunt. Almost too much - it felt like you could explode. 

You’re almost missing that familiar little flash of blue lightning at the corner of Gojo’s pussydrunk eyes. Glowing and almost falling shut with just how fucking good it felt to have your milky cunt sloshing full of his seed. The thought- the thought makes him-

You’re gasping when the lamp by your sloppy bed starts flickering so dangerously, once. Twice. Before bursting into tiny shards that flick at the both of you - only to be stopped, falling to the surrounding blankets just a few centimeters short like they were hit by an invisible wall.

“T-Toru–” the sound of your voice makes something in Gojo’s heating body raise its dark, feral head. And he only wrenches out of those pathetic handcuffs to wrap two big, strong arms around your waist. Face burying into your skin, fucking up into you over and over and-

CREAK! 

The bed groans at his rough cadence, so loud even over the dragging wooden noises of some of the furniture nearby inching forward like they were briefly tugged by some magnetizing force - Gojo. 

Bingo.

And it’s like something snaps because you’re jolted with a sharp spark of electricity. White-hot pleasure blissing down your entire limp body, and suddenly your high feels like it’s being repeated over and over and-

“Hey- hey, sweetheart?” Gojo’s voice sounds so far away. Lazily, your heavy lids blink back your vision - when did it even become hazy? “...y’know how every science experiment has about five trials?”

“...”

A/N. I don’t want to write a longer version of Gojo’s but the demons in me want to write a longer version of Gojo’s…

Plagiarism not authorized.