#and now this presence will follow me to bed

[vxnuslogy]

— what does it mean to be a star?

pairing: sunday x gn!reader

premise: sunday has stayed with you and the stellaron hunters for a few years. your lives has been filled with many adventures, both good and bad. but like any other story crafted by elio, they must come to an end eventually.

– warnings: slight angst if you squint, implications of committing suicide, not proofread that much.

– author’s note: one final (?) stellaron hunter!sunday fic before he gets released. ive missed writing for this man. art credits to 冒火锅海台 on Weibo for the art. | 1.9k words.

— tags: @ryescapades @mitsvriii @https-sourlimes @dazaisms ; if you'd like to be tagged, please let me know by sending an ask off anon or filling out the forms in my pinned !!!

“what do you think makes a star, a star?”

elio asked you that question decades ago. and only now have you arrived at one final answer. out of curiosity, you asked each hunter the same question over the years that have passed, each of them giving one answer that didn’t quite match the rest.

“to be the top player of course!” silver wolf exclaimed, her tone in a matter of fact manner as she didn’t even look up from her console. you only shook your head in amusement, jotting her answer down in a new journal your boss had given you as a present.

“a star you ask,” kafka tilted her head curiously at you. eyes freed from her usual contacts and makeup followed your movement as you stirred the coffee in your cup. “well, a star for me would be something that captures the attention of others without much effort. stars often piqued your interest, didn’t they?” you only smiled in response and nodded. you made a mental note to write it down later before you went to bed.

firefly took a little longer than the last two to answer. you patiently waited, spooning pieces of cake to your lips as the girl in front of you was deep in thought. “a guide. even in your darkest moment, a star will shine as a guide for you to follow so you don’t stray from your path.” she answered in a whisper. eyes wistful as she played with the dessert on her plate. 

“a star,” blade’s gruff voice cut through the night like a knife. a few bottles of local xianzhou wine separating you two as you sat on the roof overlooking the stars above. you hadn’t expected blade of all people to humor your questions, but here you were, grateful in his presence. “it means to burn. so brightly you are unrecognizable, to others and yourself.”

“you have a sad answer,” you mutter, taking a sip of the wine from the small cup as the man huffs. 

“time takes a heavy toll for both you and i,” the wind sways his hair in a deathly dance. he brings his cup to his lips and drinks in one go. you don’t mention how you can barely finish a cup with how strong the drink was—blade could not feel the pain of it in his throat, and he never will. “you’ve already burned through the remains of your past self. it won’t be long before you look in the mirror and be unable to recognize your reflection.”

you frown at his response. “you’re pessimistic.”

“and you’re hypocritical.”

you have no rebuttal to his accusation, after all, at the very core of your character, the word “hypocrite” hangs like a thorny crown. 

“tell me, starcatcher,” red eyes reflected the conflict you’ve been massing deep within the columns of your bones. they crash onto your being like how the oceans do to the shores—unrelenting and loud. “are you that afraid of losing another that you love them as if tomorrow they’ll die?”

you fled the roof that night. unable to face your hopelessness head on after a fresh wound of death lingers by your heart. another attempt, another reminder of the welling darkness that swells from the tip of your fingers and slowly corrupts your entire body. it drowns you and you can’t help but fear that time is clutching your shoulder, weighing you down to the ocean floor as it laughs at your predicament.

“so it’s decided then.”

but that’s no longer the case. no, not anymore. it's been decades since then, and you’ve changed.

elio sits by his office chair, typewriter moved to the side as he personally penned the final bits of your songbird’s script. you were elio’s editor and proofreader. you don’t exactly remember when it started but when you were still an unwilling understudy—an actor who refused to acknowledge the stage—he would trap you in his office and force you to read over his script to make sure there were no errors.

a small and sad smile tugged at your lips as you read the pages of inked fate. “this is for the best.”

“the best, yes,” elio ceases his writing. compiling the papers into one bulk and staring right at you. “but it's not the ending you wanted.”

you shook your head, “my preferred ending isn’t relevant to how the story ends. it’s not my story to tell.”

“yes, but it's a story you’re meant to read,” there was pity in his eyes. your heart felt too heavy with realization to even feel offended by such a look. “you have the right to feel dissatisfied.”

“thank you, elio, truly,” you only gave destiny’s slave one final smile before standing. you quietly made your way to the door, forcing your steps to sound quiet and lacking sadness. but you can’t do that, you never will. building up walls will only prove to be a waste of effort. not when elio knows every brick by heart.

with a heavy sigh, you linger by the office door before making your way to your workshop. memories from years ago flood your mind as the halls fill your senses. photos from vacation, missions, and simple outings hang by the walls while certain trinkets and relics from bygone travels litter the many desks and drawers. time did take a heavy toll just like blade said. kafka’s skin started to wrinkle a bit, silver wolf started growing taller, firefly grew paler and paler, and blade looked more like death with every breath he took.

time was a painful thing to remember—it’s not infinite. and even if it was, it's never always kind to everyone. and you? you are worse than time and death itself. you were the inevitable–finality. 

“good morning, [name].”

a voice from behind greets you like a new sunrise–a reminder that a new day is here. you couldn’t help the smile that tugged on your lips. seeing sunday in blade’s shirt hang over his body like a blanket, firefly’s hair ties on his wrists and a spare console from silver wolf in one hand brings you so much joy. 

“sunday, good morning!” you sounded breathless. tucking both hands behind your back to hide your shaking as he joined you on your way to the workshop he’s made as his makeshift nest.

sunday smiles—filled with all the hope you’ve craved and lost. it stings your heart like a needle but you don’t show it. you’re first to look away, like all the other times in his presence, unable to face the way his wings flutter and smile twitch in concern.

when you reach the workshop, you flicker the lights on and sunday makes himself at home. sitting by the windowsill as you sat down by your table. scattered fabrics for sunday’s final mission lay in your hands, and you’d be damned if you messed up now. even with a heavy heart, you willed your hands to work, all the while ignoring the concerned stare of the angel sunbathing by the window.

the two of you spend the first few hours of morning in each other’s quiet presence before your tongue itches to ask him a question. “sunday,” you call his name and you curse the flutter in your chest when he immediately looks at you. he noticed his overly quick response and covered half of his face with a fist, pretending to hide a cough instead of his coloring cheeks.

“yes?” he asks, attention solely on you as you pin the needle back on the cushion and smooth out any creases.

“what does it mean to be a star?”

he blinked owlishly at your question. a soft hum escaped his lips as his fingers tapped on the rim of his cup in contemplation. “is there…” he tests the waters—seeing if it's too hot or too cold. “any particular occasion for you to ask me a question?”

you shake your head in amusement when his more formal tone slips out. “no, not at all. just a little tradition is all.”

“well, then,” the words die out on his tongue. every once in a while, sunday would peer at you like a lost child but you’d only nod encouragingly. “a star means to be remembered.” he looked out the window, watching the clouds pass by in a blur. “even if they aren’t always there, you know they exist.”

sometimes you wonder if it's possible for sunday to look at himself through the lens of your eyes. he was beautiful like the praise of idrila, happiness like aha’s laughter, and the curiosity for adventure like akivili. sunday wasn’t just a star, he was the entire universe. and he remained blissfully unaware of it.

“[name], is everything all right?” 

you’re snapped out of your daze when you feel his hand on your cheek. lost in the replays of sunday’s image in your mind, you didn’t notice the stray tears that had betrayed your image of an unbothered editor. 

“please, don’t cry,” he whispers, pressing your foreheads together. his thumb gently wiping away the tears that escaped your eyes. you can’t help but chuckle. sunday truly was like a sponge when it comes to others’ habits.

“what hurts you so?”

“what makes you think i’m hurt?” quite frankly, you were hurt. so incredibly hurt by his eventual departure but your heart knows his stay was only temporary. but that didn’t mean you never hoped. 

hoped. over the course of a few years, sunday had succeeded in the mission the other hunters failed at. he made you hope again.

“kafka is cooking everyone’s breakfast. it’ll surely brighten up your mood.” he states taking your hand in his and tugging you in the direction of the dining room and kitchen. sunday maneuvered through the headquarters with such ease your ribs began to clamp on your heart again.

this was his home, his respite. but only for a short time.

when the two of you enter the room, you notice his frown. the emotions of everyone were palpable—it felt suffocating. your eyes met blade and you just smiled. one deep breath in and you snapped back into your joyous self. bringing temporary light to the room.

even as you ate and chatted, there were undertones of sadness. sunday nudged your side and quietly asked you, “are you quite sure everything is alright? everyone seems sad today.”

you look at them one by one. kafka’s eyes are slowly being accompanied by eye bags and wrinkles, silver wolf is nearing blade’s shoulder, firefly looks paler, and blade’s hand shakes as he holds his chopsticks. you look at sunday’s eyes, and smile. even he was a victim of time with the way his hair grew longer and face filled with more life.

“they’re just worried,” you look away first like always. meeting blade’s gaze halfway and smiling to yourself when you see him huff in denial. “your next mission is here.”

what does it mean to be a star? elio asked you that question a long, long time ago. and you only found the answer in the form of an angel with wings behind his ears and eyes that shined like the sun. the star you’ve grown to love burns brighter than the sun but still requires rest when night falls. 

to be a star means to be remembered, even in the face of departure. you remain bright and unforgotten. left in the care of a conductor and an express you’ve once loved.

to be a star means to face the inevitable that sunday was meant for greater things than being just a fugitive venturing the universe.

© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.

[dearggntlereader]

mattheo riddle x reader mattheo realizes hes in love with you. TW: kissing some cursing and as always picture does not represent the readers looks

are we in love? . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

Mattheo has loved you for as long as he can remember.

He loved you when you sat next to him in potions, eyes shy and frame small. He smiled at you then and introduced himself, starting a fabulous friendship. He loved you when you grew into your personality, getting more and more comfortable around him. He loved you when you let out huffs of laughter at his antics, followed quickly by a roll of your eyes.

He might have loved you a little less when you were dating that gryffindor bloke. Actually, no. He might have liked you less but he loved you all the same. He still loves you.

He loves you when you just woke up, eyes tired, lazy smile and messy hair. He loves you when your shooting glares at him in class, hissing at him under your breath “Focus, riddle. You’re distracting me.” He loves you when you're cleaning him up after a fight, causing him pain and wincing in tandem with him every time the cloth meets his face.

But is he in love with you?

Draco would scoff “obviously, dickhead.”

Blaise wouldn’t even grace him with an answer, only smiling in that ‘i know something you don’t’ way of his.

Pansy would bark out a laugh “you’re so stupid, riddle!”

Enzo would argue that he merely likes your presence, but he is just as stupid with emotions as Mattheo himself is. So, that doesn’t help.

Theodore would shake his head with a soft laugh and knowing look, “What do you think?”

He could never ask Tom about this.

So seeing as most of the people he holds dearest would say yes or atleast insinuate that, that should be his answer.

But then he thinks back to the start of your friendship. When you smiled at him with still crooked teeth, grabbed his hand with zero elegance for a handshake and he felt the same tugging at his chest he feels now.

And he wasn’t in love with you then.

He barely knew you, nothing to be in love with.

And now he knows you. He knows you when you're happy, feeling on top of the world just the same as he knows you sobbing into his chest, refusing to leave the bed for days on end.

The same feeling is still tugging at his chest, urging him to look at something he just can’t find.

It’s tugs become stronger every time he looks at you, a weird feeling in his stomach bubbling up with more force whenever you smile at him.

Just as you are now.

Everything inside of him is screaming to tell you something, to do something. But, what? 

“...you know?” your voice trails off, looking at him. 

You were standing between rows of books, holding an Astronomy book in hand. Surely you were ranting about class to him and whilst he would usually love to listen, he didn’t register a single word.

You're frowning slightly and he has to fight the urge to lift his fingers to smooth out the wrinkle forming between your lovely brows.

He loses the fight.

Your skin is soft under his fingers and your frown is replaced by something much softer. 

You’re looking at him with a mix of surprise and intrigue. The slight gleam in your eyes makes Mattheo want to lean in and kiss your pretty, pouty, perfect Lips. He wants to bite them until he draws blood, wants to tug at them to see them bounce back. And god, how much he wants to feel them on his skin, on his Lips, whispering soft secrets into his ear.

Stop.

No.

He was not in love with you, right?

A voice that sounds an annoyingly amount like Draco floats around his brain, “Then why the fuck do you want to kiss her, fuckface.”

He mentally tells Draco to ‘shut the fuck up’ before directing his Attention back to you. His eyes flit from your mouth up to your eyes.

Fuck.

Oh, god- he’s in love with you.

Your pupils are blown wide, dark and dilated, fixed on his Lips- just as his had been a second ago. Your eyes aren’t filled with lust or heat, simple adoring. And isn’t that just ten times more devastating. You're looking at him like you love him and all of a sudden Mattheo is falling. 

Or maybe he’s been falling for a while, falling for you, into you. Losing himself in your love, in your words and laughs and eyes. 

Most likely, he was always falling.

From the moment your eyes first meet, eyes are the windows to the soul after all. He is so in love with your soul. He wants to melt into you, curling around your spine and spilling into your veins, until you couldn’t possibly force him away.

But if he can trust the look in your eye, you might not want to force him away. Even if you had the chance.

He feels your mouth before he realizes he moved. Your lips are already parted when he meets them, inviting him in. Only a split second passes before you kiss him back, sighing into the kiss.

His hands settle on your waist and as the kiss picks up, they start roaming all over your back. Your hands fall into his hair and everything clicks into place. 

He can faintly hear the heavy Astronomy book fall to the ground beneath you two.

The haziness falls away and all Mattheo can feel is you. Your hands, your mouth, your skin, your body.

He’s convinced you were created for him just as he was for you, the way you fit together turns the falling into floating. 

Mattheo doesn’t want to meet the ground ever again, not if floating feels like this.

Okay so, this is based off something @dustie-faerie commented a while ago and after some playing around and writing and rewriting we ended up with this<333

[cvnntagious]

brat!reader has been superr overwhelmed with work and taking care of Mazzy and starts crying in the middle of sex with bd!matt bc she lwk wants him back bc she knows that parenting Mazzy would be so much easier with him by her side and js misses his presence but she’ll never admit it (ps i literally love this series so much🤍)

thank youu, i love you !

matt's hips snapped to meet yours, his thrusts slow and deliberate. he couldn't get enough of the way you quietly whimpered beneath him in the night, finding it hard to stay quiet as his movements sped up. your tits bounced just the way he liked, a sense of euphoria washing over him as he grunted.

you, on the other hand, were on the verge. no, not of release, though you really wish you were. you felt tears welling up in your eyes, still unable to stop the soft pants that left your mouth as matt's tip abused your g-spot.

his arms wrapped around you, practically cradling your frame as you felt his weight slowly sinking on top of you. the way his head dipped to nuzzle in your neck sent you over the edge.

there was an almost instant pause of his hips when matt heard sniffles coming from you beside his ear, lifting himself off of you in a panic. the concern that washed over him made it so that he didn't even care about the way the pleasure that was building up inside him was gone just as quick as it came.

"baby?" he asked when he was met with tears streaming down your face, "are you okay? was i too rou-"

"no, m'fine," you cut him off. of course he wasn't. he sped up, yeah, but he wasn't rough—not tonight, anyway.

matt tried to pull out, only for you to catch his half-hard length in your hand. "jus- just keep going," you tired to assure him, unable to stop the tears from falling. matt wasn't having it.

he shook his head, hands reaching to grab your waist. "don't be like that. you're still crying," he replied, lifing you off your matress and flipping the two of you over so you were now straddling him, still naked, "tell me what's wrong, baby, i'll make it better."

your heart began to pound a bit in your chest at his words, feeling your face flush under his gaze as he looked up at you. "i said m'fine," you stifled out, but again, matt wasn't having it. he remained silent, as if urging you to tell him the truth without words. "just... y'know, stressed. so," you finally caved a bit, only to feel yourself shifting on him, reaching to grab his dick again. you were about to tell him that since you were stressed, this was how he could help you, but he knew you too well. he knew something else was up.

again, he stopped your movements, grip on your hips tightening to keep you in place. "yeah... and what else?" he asked, blue eyes wide with question when you finally made eye contact with him.

the way his lashes unintentionally batted made you feel... angry. what was his problem? you said you were fine. he was gonna get what he wanted, sex, so why did he care? "matt, just drop it," you quipped biterly, finding yourself lifting off of him — with a small struggle, of couse.

matt's eyes followed you as you got off your bed and walked away with angered grunts, naked form making its way towards your bathroom. he began thinking maybe really didn't know you like he thought, and that hurt him. but he didn't even know how much this hurt you.

you knew you messed up with him, and it was slowly starting to eat at you; thinking you lost the best person in your life right now.

[heartowan]

★WINTER VISITOR: jason todd x reader.

( first part here !! ; afab!reader, cuss words, smoking, sexual content ) ────────── ★

"It's you again." You murmured, your voice sounding extra quiet now that it was past midnight. You could see the tired look in his eyes as he sat down on the wooden floor of your porch, his legs stretched out in front of him, reminding you of the position he was in that day you found him bleeding right there, at that same spot.

It had been a few weeks, maybe two and a half... and there he was: the Red Hood, back at your house, looking up at you with those white shining eyes of his ridiculous helmet.

"Yeah, it's me." He said, and before you could even process or think about the modulated voice, he removed the helmet. Now, only the area around his eyes was covered by that little domino mask.

You didn't like smoking inside, so you often went out to the porch for this sole purpose. To smoke a blunt. It calmed you down, though you didn't enjoy the actual action of smoking that much. It was... er, alright.

You exhaled the smoke slowly, and that was when he noticed what you were doing. "Can I be really honest with you right now?" He murmured, still looking up at you. You offered a soft grunt as a response, and he continued: "I would never, ever, in any possible circumstance ever, guess that you were a stoner." He said, a light chuckle following his words.

You furrowed your eyebrows, something that you seemed to do a lot in his presence, but you weren't offended in the slightest.

"Well... uh, thanks?" You mumbled with little interest. "I do it mostly for the buzz."

"I guessed you'd say that." He teased, a little stupid grin on his lips, and you glared at him.

"What's that even supposed to mean?" You inquired, a faux-offended tone in your voice.

"Nothing, nothing." He snorted, leaning his head back against the wall.

"What are you doing back here anyway?" You asked, now moving to sit down close to him. Honestly, you didn't really mind that he was who he was right now. You were stoned, tired and... didn't give a shit. You'd probably still sit in the same spot if you were sober.

He sighed, closing his eyes for a brief moment. "Was passing by and saw you out." He looked over at you, watching as you sat down beside him as he spoke. "Can I have a drag?"

"Sure." You mumbled, handing him the blunt. Woah, now you were gonna share saliva with him. Where the hell was your life going?

You mimicked his position, leaning your head against the wall. The night was freezing. You two probably shouldn't be outside, but you were covered in your warmest clothes, and he didn't seem to be cold, so you brushed your own concerns off.

"I looked you up, by the way." He murmured, handing you the little joint back. "Not much out there."

You arched one eyebrow at his words. Oddly enough, this time you weren't weirded out. "And you're admitting it?"

"Uh, yeah." He shrugged, letting out a soft huff. "Trying to make conversation or something." You laughed at that. What the hell was this guy's deal?

You didn't seem to be angry at him, so he kept talking to you. The whole thing was unusual for both of you. Talking to strangers (sorta) and being comfortable while doing so wasn't something that happened often in your lives.

You two spent hours and hours talking, even after you finished the blunt. It was nice, and even though it was still freezing, you two weirdly didn't bother by it. Maybe it wasn't that cold.

When you woke up the next day, you were in your bed, all tangled up in your sheets. You didn't even know how you got there, but you felt light, like you had a good night of sleep. Also unusual, because every time you smoked, you had the shittiest sleep of your life, but it seemed like this time had been different.

You picked up your phone, and as soon as you unlocked the screen, there was a text notification from a contact that you didn't recognize.

It was a red heart emoji, just that, and the text said: "If you're wondering, yes, I was the one who put you to bed. And yes, I snooped around your room 😝"

You rolled your eyes at that and tossed the phone down on the matress.

★...

More often than not, your few friends noted how affectionate you were. Always giving them little touches, brushing hair back, playing with the strands, fixing their clothes, stroking their arms with your fingers, even tying their shoelaces. It was all so you.

You didn't have many people close to you, and not because you were a loner, simply because you valued your hodiernal connections enough and didn't feel the need to look for anything else at the moment. You liked your friends, in fact, you loved them.

So, when that guy in the red helmet started showing up at your porch at ungodly hours at least three times a week, you started to consider adding him to your circle of friends. It wouldn't harm anyone, he was nice, and your friends wouldn't know anyway.

He was surprisingly talkative with you. You always expected those harsh and violent vigilantes to have harsh and violent personalities even when they weren't doing their job, but he was cool. He talked about a lot of things with you just to keep the conversation going, and you thought it was cute.

"... so... hey, did you get a new lamp?" He asked as he flopped down aggressively on your couch, interrupting his own line of thought. He was asking you about the neighborhood cat before.

You nodded at that, standing across from him while you fixed the little Christmas hat that had fallen off your bookshelf. "Yeah, the other one I had broke. I kinda bumped into it."

He hummed at your explanation, and you recognized the sound of his helmet being taken off. Always, as soon as he got comfortable in your house, he removed it.

While you had some trouble getting the Christmas decoration to stay in place, he stared at your back. Taking in your little green and red pajamas, your slightly messy hair, the dark green socks on your feet, and the way you seemed to be struggling terribly to get the Christmas hat to stay up. Adorable.

He stood from the couch and walked over to help you. "Let me try." He said, gently nudging your hands away. You sighed and let him.

You watched his concentrated face as he tried to put the little red and white hat in a position where its own weight wouldn't make it tumble. He looked nicer up close.

"It's Jason, by the way." He mumbled, eyes focused on fixing the hat. You furrowed your eyebrows.

"Huh?"

"My name. It's Jason." He explained.

He already knew yours. You had told him a few weeks ago when you shared a blunt for the second time.

"Ah, alright." You mumbled back to him, trying not to sound surprising. Jason. It was a cute name, and it seemed to fit him. "Fits you."

He finally got the hat to stay up, and he turned to you with a big, proud smile. You found it quite adorable how much he smiled around you. You didn't know if he was like this all the time, but you chose to believe it was a unique thing.

You two just stared at each other for a moment, him proud of his achievement, and you thankful for his help.

"Do you know how profound your eyes are?" He blurted, making a stupid face at you. Truly, he was gazing deeply into your eyes.

"If this is you trying to hit on me, you're failing." You retorted, a little smile appearing on your lips.

"Just saying." He shrugged, stepping back a bit. "I fixed your hat. You're welcome."

You watched as Jason walked back to your couch, flopping down onto it once more and letting out a lazy groan. His eyes closed, and he let out a tired sigh.

"Rough night?" You murmured, sitting down beside him. Your couch was comfortable and fit up to three people. Most of these nightly visits were spent in it, talking away. It was all too cozy.

Recently, he had started placing his arm around you when you sat closely, that and gently caressing your hair. And, this time, it wasn't different. As soon as your head touched his shoulder, his arm was around you, and his fingers started threading through your hair.

When you got closer, spending time with Red Hood Jason became something like spending time with yourself. Despite the absurdly different lifestyles, you two had a lot in common.

Like physical touch as a love language, liking sweet tea, reading, staying up until dawn, and, of course, being each other's secret. Nobody knew about your midnight visitor, and nobody knew where he went when he became unreachable past midnight.

"Yeah, rough night." He said, his voice becoming softer as he steadied himself with your help, the help of your presence, of your proximity. "Just, like, lots of stupid people making my job even harder."

"I get it." You murmured, looking up at him through your eyelashes. He was to your left, his right hand playing with your hair while you half-rested your back on his chest. It wasn't awkward anymore. You weren't even sure it ever was. "It used to be like that at my old job, and then I got a job at that little bookstore close to Gotham U."

"Mmm." He nodded, tilting his head a little in your direction, but his eyes remained closed. "You think you'd recognize me if I went there in my normal clothes?" There was a faint smile on his lips as he muttered those words.

"Probably." You said smuggly. "That little mask doesn't hide much."

"True," he chuckled softly, his eyes fluttering open to look down at you. They still look tired, and you had no idea if you'd ever see him looking not-tired. Maybe cause you've never seen each other after a good night of sleep. "But, they hide the most important part of my face. You can see the color of my eyes, yeah, but you don't know what's the shape of them or anything."

"Makes sense. Yeah, I think I wouldn't recognize you at first, but I'd recognize your voice, for sure." You said.

"What? Is it special or something?" He smiled at you, his fingers giving your ear a light, playful tug. "I bet you wouldn't recognize that either."

You gasped dramatically, hand cluching chest as you looked at him with the dumbest smile on your parted lips. "How dare you doubt me?" You inquired, your tone dripping of sarcasm.

"I mean..." he mumbled. "I guess you might recognize it. I don't know... we'll- we might see it one day." He fumbled over his words, his cheeks reddening. You got him flustered by making fun of him.

You wondered if that guy snuggled up with you on your couch, mumbling and fumbling over his words because of you was the same guy that beat and killed criminals in the deeps of Gotham. How could he be so... him? People have layers, yes, but this man is unbelievable.

Everything went quiet for a few minutes, only the faint sounds of your breathing and the soft hum of the heater could be heard, but those were muffled by the pull of your gazes on each other. He couldn't stop staring at your face, at your nose, at your lips, at your forehead, at your eyes. Like he'd never seen something so flawless, so polished, so complete ─ all he needed.

And you stared at him, at his mask, at the paint around his blueish-green eyes, at his chapped, but rosy pouty lips, at his straight nose, at his cheekbones, his chin, the white and black locks that fell on his forehead, his ears and the small earings on them. Like you'd never seen someone so unique, that seemed to be right there for you. Just for you.

You sighed when the staring contest became too much, but neither of your gazes strayed. His eyes focused on your lips, and you'd recognize that look in any light.

"Can I be really honest with you right now?" You murmured, and you could see a little smile creeping on his lips when he registered your words. Or, his words. He offered a soft "mhm" in response. "I want to kiss you so fucking bad. I think I might die if I don't."

"You might die?" His tone was soft, slightly mocking. "I don't think I'd like for that to happen."

"It'd be all your fault..." you taunted, giving him ridiculous puppy eyes. But, he was ridiculous too, and they worked so well on him.

He simply chuckled at you, and in half a second, his hand in your hair was used to push your head closer to his face as he leaned in, capturing your lips in the softest kiss you've ever shared with someone. It was lazy, he wanted to adjust to your pace, to let you guide, and you kept it deliciously slow and delicate, your heads moving and lips touching each other in a way that was simultaneously so tender and so sensual.

His hand slid to your cheek, holding you closer and caging you in his embrace while you raised a leg and placed it right on top of his, draping it over his lap, almost to mimic his hold on you. He used his left arm to pull you even closer by that same leg, your chests touching as the kiss became more intense and your tongues met.

He parted his lips to invite it, and you gladly accepted, sliding it inside of his mouth and caressing his own languidly and in a pleasant way, earning a hum from him that you swallowed in your kiss.

The feeling of your lips on his, his hands on you, his tongue on yours... way more satisfying than you'd ever imagined. You didn't think he'd feel so good on you.

His hand on your leg pulled you on his lap, the kiss becoming sloppy as you both shuffled on the couch to get you into a straddling position, each one of your thighs beside and squeezing his, your knees digging into the soft cushions of the couch as the kiss started getting a little more intense.

After all this time knowing and wanting each other, even if the attraction was suble, you'd expected wildness, despair, hands clutching clothes, teeth clashing, lips being biten, but that wasn't happening. What was in the air was need, tenderness, longing, and comfort, almost like it was a normal Thursday.

But it wasn't, and the both of you knew that. It was something new, something that you had yet to explore with the other. You were, of course, stepping into uncharted territory, a land which you knew nothing about. How would it be from now on? He'd still come almost every night? You'd still text constantly? Would you still call him in between your breaks to gossip about your boss? Would things get difficult and complicated?

These thoughts made you pull back from the kiss. Fucking anxiety. The pleasant and wet pop of your lips parting would've made you smile if you weren't so preoccupied. "Sorry." You mumbled into his lips. "Thinking too much."

"Don't worry, I get it." His nose brushed yours, and his heavy, warm fingers slipped under your shirt. He was panting a little, his cheeks, lips and neck flushed. He wanted you so bad. "If... you just want to chill and hang out like we usually do, we can just try to go back to that. Don't overthink it, okay? This doesn't doesn't have to be complicated."

You furrowed you eyebrows at him. "I don't see how this would not be complicated." He smiled at you, at your words, at whatever. He was, honestly, just glad to have you there, on top of him, speaking to him with your pretty voice after he had your tongue down his throat.

"I mean... like, don't think too much. I know it's easier said than done, but I think we'll figure it out anyway." He explained, his words sounding so sweet as he obviously spoke in a way that you just knew was an attempt to comfort you. "I don't wanna sound stupid and mushy, I really don't, but... yeah, I want with you... whatever you want with me. As long as you're happy and satisfied."

"Jason, what the hell do you mean?" You mumbled, narrowing your eyes at him. He laughed at your tone.

Saying his name felt weird. Until some time ago, you only called him Red Hood. But it also felt right, felt closer, deeper, maybe even made you feel warmer inside. The both of you.

"That I like you and I'm happy to be here, doing this with you." He said. "I don't know if it's too fast, maybe it is, but I'm in for it if you are."

Jason squeezed your waist, his eyes glued to yours as he waited for your response. His fingers caressed your skin, the palms of his hands heating up your sides while the pads of his digits squeezed your soft derm.

"I like you too." You whispered, almost afraid of your own words, but he was just marveled about how sensitive and sincere you sounded. "I'm in."

He offered you a gentle smile, warm and inviting, and you smiled back, your eyes crinkling at the corners. That sight reminded him of something.

"Take it off for me?" You looked confused at his request, a little curious pout on your lips. "The mask." Oh.

Carefully, your fingers reached for the black domino mask around his eyes. Even though you were excited to finally see what was under there for so long, you weren't hesitant. It peeled off easily, and you caught a glimpse of his temple once you started pulling it away ─ in five seconds, there he was. Jason.

He had black paint smeared around his eyes, but you could see him clearly even under the dim, warm lighting of your living room. You two were so close that you could see almost all of his lower eyelashes, but the top ones merged with the paint. You couldn't take that.

You wiped the oily paint away with the bottom of your shirt, just hoping it was washable. He simply let you. And in a minute, you finally had him there. All of him, all of his face.

"Your eyes are pretty." You murmured, hands now coming up to craddle his face. "Like, the shape."

"You think?" His voice was low and soft as he asked, and he received a nod in response. He loved when you complimented him, and you didn't do it often. "Kiss me?"

You just nodded again. You'd never dare refuse him. Your met him in a more certain kiss this time, now used to each others lips. He squeezed your waist once more, pulling you closer to him as the kiss intensified. Your clothed cores rubbed and chests pressed together with the movement, and you two grunted at the contact.

Your hands slid down to his shoulders, then to his biceps. You just had to grasp at them. And his own went up to your back, making you tingle. It was already too much, yet not enough.

You moved your hips against his, searching for more of that sensation from just a few seconds ago, and in no time, he was guiding the movements, his hands on your waist, moving you back and forth. The friction was delicious, and it made you both moan in each other's mouths, the sounds making everything so much more pleasant.

His mouth left yours only to press at your cheeks, going up to your temples, and then back down to kiss under your ear, then all over your neck. He just wanted to swallow you whole, but while he couldn't do that, he'd have to settle for kissing you all over.

He painted your neck with red marks, his lips sucking and leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses everywhere he could reach. Your hands went to his hair, sometimes tugging at his locks, sometimes caressing his scalp. He couldn't get enough of your touch, of your body against his, of your skin. He needed you.

You kept moving against him, rubbing yourself on his crotch to try and soothe the want you felt inside. You couldn't feel that much through your pants. They were thick to keep you warm, but you felt hot enough already.

Jason's hands around your waist lifted you up from his lap with ease, then guided you down to lay on your back on the couch, and you pushed some pillows to the floor on the process so you could fit better. He straddled your hips and pulled his shirt off all while you stared up at him with your pretty eyes.

You didn't hold back when you felt the urge to touch him, your fingers tracing his abs so carefully, caressing all of the skin you could reach without sitting up. His skin was littered with scars, and the ugly gash from before was healing slowly ─ it was still a red, long scar on his chest, its color showing that it wasn't fully healed yet, but much better than before. It wasn't that deep of a wound, but with him constantly having people beat him, neither of you expected it to heal quick and gracefully.

"I want you." You murmured quietly, a little embarrassed of your own words, but they were the ultimate truth. You wanted Jason and anything he could offer to you at that moment.

His eyes followed your hands, and he placed one of his on top of yours, pressing your fingers against his skin. "I'm yours." He whispered, and you wondered if he meant right now or from now on.

You looked back up in his eyes, and you felt heat pooling at your lower belly when you noticed the look in them. Like he wanted to consume you, and you wanted him to. Right now.

His hands lifted your shirt, bunching it up past your chest as he leaned down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth while his fingers softly grazed the other, caressing it. You slipped your fingers in his hair again, pushing his head against you, and you felt him move his hips against yours once more.

With that, you could feel how much he wanted you as well, as the bulge in his thick pants pressed against you even through the heavy layers. You wanted those heavy layers off.

"Jason," you mumbled his name, hands gently squeezing his shoulders. "Take your pants off."

You heard him let out an amused huff at your request, and he went back up to his previous position, looking down at you. He guided your hands to his belt, and you knew what to do.

Swiftly, your fingers unbuckled it, pulled it out of the loops, and tossed it to the floor of your living room, you both heard as it landed on the mat with a soft thud. You went for his button next, then for the zipper. You caught a glimpse of his black boxers, salivating at the mere view of them.

He helped you push his pants down and then tossed them to the floor as well. When he was free of his, he yanked yours away without warning, making you let out a surprised yelp, in which he delighted himself.

He laughed at the sound you made while he removed your green socks, and you glared up at him for surprising you. "Not funny." You muttered, but he shrugged playfully at you.

He leaned down to nuzzle your neck after he removed your shirt as well, the gesture reaking of the affection he felt for you. His hands splayed on your stomach as his lips and nose caressed your senstive skin, and you squeezed at his arms, your legs sneaking past his and wrapping around his hips.

His hands went for your ankles, caressing the back of them as he dived back into your chest and then down to the valley in between your breasts, then to your stomach, and then to the place where you wanted him the most.

His hands went back up to your sides now, but he brought one down to caress you through your panties, brushing a finger over the damp spot in them, and then one over your clit. He smiled at how your thighs pressed on his shoulders and then at you when his eyes found yours.

He kept rubbing that same spot through the thin fabric, stimulating your clit, but not too much. He knew you wanted more, both of you did, but he wanted to savor that moment, and you appreciated that, even if you were dying for him to just pull those panties off and have his way with you.

Jason hooked one of his fingers onto the waistband of your underwear and finally pulled them off. Unlike the rest of his clothes, he didn't toss those on the floor, placing them on the beside you instead so you wouldn't have trouble looking for them later.

He looked down at you, exposed to him for the first time, his mouth salivating at the sight of you wet, swollen, and flush all because of him. He didn't have the strength to tease you anymore in that moment. He just dove in.

His hand that was toying with you before went back to your empty side, pulling your body closer to him so he could properly burrow his face in your pussy while he ate it, and then it moved to press at your lower stomach, urging your orgasm on. His tongue lapped at you, into your soaked folds and at your swollen bud, which he sucked so carefully to make you feel pleasure and only that.

He kept a steady rhythm, using your moans and gasps as a guide for his pace. Your fingers played with his hair while you rolled your hips against his face, rubbing your cunt on him, using his mouth for your pleasure. He was so good at that, at making you feel good.

He slipped his tongue inside of you once or twice to test the waters, and you whimpered at that. He couldn't wait to bury himself in you. He pulled away from your weeping cunt, only to slip his boxers off, revealing his flushed length.

You pushed up to your elbows to have a better view of him, and he looked divine from head to toe. The messy hair that you had been toying with, his flushed face, neck, and chest looked so good under the warm lighting of the room, his hard and leaking girth that looked like it was made to fit you, the pathetic needy expression on his face, and yours probably looked the same too.

He let you take your time, let you stare at him. Your eyes were hungry, and so here his. You looked all perfect down there, looking at him, with your cheeks flushed, lips parted, messy hair spilling on the pillow, your beautiful body and legs spread for him. God, he wanted you more than he ever wanted anything.

Jason licked his lips, and once he'd had enough of your staring contest, he pulled you closer again by the legs. He leaned down to capture your lips in a heated, needy kiss, each one of his hands being placed beside your head to support his body while it covered yours.

Your hips were aligned, and he purposefully let his throbbing cock brush your soaked heat, giving you a little taste. It all felt so good, so right. Your arms went around his neck while they could, tugging him close, pressing your chests together, squeezing your breasts against him.

"Pull out, right?" He mumbled into your mouth, his eyes looking hazy. You nodded lazily. "M'kay."

He reached down in betwen you, not wanting to separate his body from yours, he wanted to feel the heat of your chests together. Carefully, he slid the head of his dick in between your folds, dipping it in your juices and rubbing it on your clit to make you even more needy for it, and then slowly, he slid the tip into you, a satisfied groan leaving his mouth. It was surreal, it already felt so good and he wasn't even all the way in.

You sighed in satisfaction, your eyes closing and your head tipping back against the pillow. You scratched his back gently, the slow scrape of your nails on his skin matching the languid rhythm he used to slide into you, stretching out your channel with ease. You were so fucking wet. He was met with no resistance, you wanted him there.

Despite being your first time together, it didn't feel awkward. It didn't feel confusing or complicated. It was him and you, just like always. Comfortable.

He let you adjust to his size, his lips peppering your jaw with tender kisses as you got used to the stretch and waited for the mild burning sensation to cease. Felt so easy with him.

Jason felt you move against him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock, and he smiled on your soft skin. He pushed up again to look down at you, his arms still on either side of your head. With your legs around his hips, he started moving, meticulously thrusting into you, searching for the most sensitive spots, feeling every inch of your gummy, warm walls hugging his length.

It felt like heaven, finally being inside you. Everything with you was so good.

He picked up the pace as you started breathing heavier, your eyes closing as you let yourself enjoy every single thing about this moment, about him in you. Pistoning in and out of you in a needy rhythm, he grunted and groaned so deliciously, blessing your ears with his sounds.

You felt yourself nearing the edge even more with each thrust. It all felt so intense. He mirrored your feelings, his eyes squeezing shut as he held back his own release, trying to hold up so you could come together.

Neither of you could speak at that moment, not even to mumble words of praise, the pleasure consuming your minds with equal intensity, taking up every space in your brains. You couldn't delay it anymore.

Your walls clenched around him, and you gasped, whimpered, and moaned at the sensation. You couldn't control the sounds coming out of you. Your eyes closed once again as your lips stayed parted, heavy breaths coming out of them.

As you squeezed his cock in pleasure, Jason had to muster all of his self-control to be able to pull out of you before he spilled all of his seed inside of you and fucked everything up. He couldn't break your trust like that. He pulled out, and in less than a second, his white, hot, and thick cum spilled all over your stomach and pelvis. He'd never cum like that before, so desperately. The sounds he made while he let his liquid pour over your skin without even having to milk it out with his hand were ungodly, so fucking lewd.

"Fuck," Jason gasped, his head slumping forward as he panted on top of you. "S'good." He mumbled.

You cracked a small smile at that, fingers going back to scratching his back when you could finally concentrate on something other than your orgasm taking over your body.

"So good." You echoed, eyes closing as he rested his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in the mixture of your scent with the smell of sex in the air.

"I'm not moving from here." He warned in another lazy mumble, his arms snaking around your waist. You chuckled at him.

"Okay." You muttered softly, one of your hands going to play with his hair. "We'll stay here."

"We'll stay here." He echoed your words as well, letting out a tired yet satisfied sigh.

Your eyes drifted up for the window for a second, and you noticed it was snowing again outside. It was all so magical, even if you were feeling sweaty and sticky.

You sighed, the sight of the snow falling relaxing you as well as Jason's body on top of yours, warming you up.

Wait, was the window open all this time?

☆

a.n: hello! I hope this is cohesive enough and not too too fast. it's my first time ever writing smut, so i really wanted to focus on that. thanks for reading!

[dekariosclan]

While imagining Tav living with Gale in Waterdeep, I picture them finally being able to tease him without the constant worry about the orb. How easily would he get flustered, and what kind of teasing would get to him the most?

And!! What if Tav, in the middle of an intense conversation, slowly stepped closer, enough to make Gale think they might kiss, only to pause and say something completely unrelated and random, just to watch Gale scramble to compose himself?

Sorry for so many questions lol but the thought of a flustered Gale has me giggling and kicking my feet and I wanted to hear your thoughts on a very flustered Gale!!

This is super cute anon! Let’s start at the beginning:

How easily would he get flustered, and what kind of teasing would get to him the most?

The most difficult part of this is that Gale is essentially the ‘Schrödinger's Cat’ of being flustered. And what I mean by that is, based on his various interactions in the game, it seems as though he is capable of either being completely flustered or not flustered at all at any given time. Follow along with me here:

Gets flustered when he compliments Tav’s musk

Has no issue with complimenting Tav’s sweat/muscles and saying he’s turned on by them (in front of others, no less!)

Gets flustered at the thought of kissing or holding hands with Tav during the Weave scene

Doesn’t blink an eye at having full on freaky space sex with Tav in the sky

Gets flustered when Tav mentions, in front of Tara, enjoying seeing him naked

Smoothy says he will ‘indulge Tav when they get home’ if Tav makes the same naked comment without Tara around

Do you see the conundrum here anon?! He is very hard to pin down!

What I THINK we can conclude is that there are three very specific situations where Gale gets really flustered:

If he thinks he’s made a verbal fumble which could be taken poorly by Tav,

If he thinks he’s misread Tav’s intentions, and

If anything potentially embarrassing is said or done in front of his good friend/cat mom Tara

Now, to your prompt.

We’ll assume that Tav decides to approach Gale in his study, when he has his nose buried in a book.

“Gale?” Tav will innocently inquire.

“Yes, my love?” Will come the reply, warmth and welcome apparent in Gale’s voice, though his eyes never leave the page.

Tav, moving closer, will untie the top laces of their tunic. “I was hoping you might…help me with something.”

“Of course, dearest. Do you require my physical presence for assistance, or is it just a matter of—” Upon raising his head, Gale will find Tav standing directly in front of his desk, dressed in a rather…provocative manner.

“—oh.”

Gale will, for a moment, be completely at a loss for words—but he’ll pull himself together quickly. “—ah. Forgive me, I ah—lost my train of thought.” He’ll rise from his desk with an apologetic smile. “How may I be of service, my love?”

“Well—there’s a problem with our bed, darling,” Tav will say, smiling coyly, as they lean over the desk to bring their face closer to Gale’s.

“Our—our bed? Why, it was fine this morning…whatever could have—”

“The problem is you aren’t in it.”

Gale’s mouth will open and shut, silently. Then he’ll audibly gulp, clear his throat, and say, “I see.” A smile will begin at the corner of his lips as Tav leans in closer, and his gaze will dip to Tav’s mouth for half a second before returning to their eyes.

“So to answer your previous question,” Tav will say in a hushed, husky tone, their mouth just a hair’s breath from Gale’s, “yes indeed, I will require your ‘physical presence’ for ‘assistance.’”

“Well,” Gale will chuckle, “If you insist, I might be persuaded to leave my work behind…for a little while…”

And as Gale leans forward, his lips parting, his eyelids fluttering shut, Tav will lean back and say: “…but first, can you please help me in the kitchen? There are several spices that I’m in need of for a recipe, but you have them organized in such a manner that I cannot seem to locate them.”

The result of this will be a full ten seconds of Gale attempting to recover his composure.

From blinking his eyes open, to looking completely puzzled, to stuttering: “ah—yes, well—I suppose…” while sheepishly rubbing his hands together, to finally tilting his head and looking at Tav quizzically.

“Did I—did I say something wrong, my love? I…I rather thought we were going to, well…make love in the bedroom…”

Then, Tav will gently laugh, and lean forward to give Gale a thorough kiss, ending with their hands cupping his face as they smile lovingly at him.

“We will darling, but first I want you to have your way with me in the kitchen. On the counter, preferably. I was only teasing you about the spices.”

“Oh!” Gale’s eyes will widen with delight. “Oh, yes of course! Ah-ha, very well.” He’ll raise an eyebrow and smirk. “Then, let us proceed to add some spice to the kitchen, shall we?”

And so they shall—though I’m sad to say that Gale’s being flustered is not done, as they will get an unannounced visitor shortly thereafter:

“Yoo-hoo! Mister Dekariooos! Is that you making all the ruckus in the kitchen?”

“OH, GOOD HEAVENS! NOT NOW TARA! SHOO!”

[evnseokz]

{ ☆ mirror sex - s.es }

pairing: bf! eunseok x f. reader

contents: mirror sex, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t), kissing, nipple play, biting, soft dom! eunseok, dirty talk, pet name baby, slight body worship

a.n: yall eunseok has me in a fucking CHOKEHOLD, i literally am like a rabid animal everytime i see him w.c 850

you were sitting in eunseoks lap, your lips moving in sync with his as your fingers ran through his hair. eunseok breaks the kiss, guiding you to stand up off the bed with him. your brows furrow as he guides you to the opposite corner of the room, and stands you in front of the full-length mirror on the wall. his presence is heavy behind you, his chest pressed against your back.

“seok, what’s this?” you ask. “shhh just watch, baby,” he coos. lips beginning to trail kisses down the side of your neck as his hands begin to fiddle with your clothing. his fingers find the hem of your shirt first, slowly pulling it up and over your head, maintaining eye contact through the glass mirror in front of you. his fingers trace down your sides, sending shivers through your skin. “so perfect,” he hums, fingers now finding the clasp to your bra. he unclasps it quickly, sliding it down your arms and letting it fall to the floor. your eyes follow his hands, but he’s quick to snap you back into reality.

“ah-ah baby, keep watching,” he says sternly, his hand bringing your head back up to look in the mirror. you gulp as his hands find your breasts, caressing them gently before taking your nipples between his fingers and pinching them lightly. a whimper falls from your lips at the action, making eunseok smirk to himself. his hands leave your breasts, wrapping around your waist to shimmy your shorts and panties down in one swift movement. allowing you to step out of them before kicking them to the side. his hands wrap around you again, caressing your body sensually and slowly. “so beautiful, all for me.” he brings his lips down to your neck again. placing soft kisses as you hum in satisfaction.

he steps back from you momentarily, only long enough to rid himself of his own clothes as you watch him in the mirror. your eyes travel from his neck to his collarbones and down to his toned thighs, your own body blocking what you really want to see. you try to turn around, but eunseok stops you, his hands on your hips, holding you in place as he presses against you once more. this time you feel his length pressing against your backside. you gulp at the feeling, anticipating what’s to come.

one of his hands drops down to cup your pussy, his fingers running up and down your slick folds. “so wet already, baby,” he coos into your ear, his breath tickling your skin. your cheeks heat up at his comment. “think you can take me with no prep?” eunseok challenged, eyes clouded with lust. you think for only a second before nodding your head yes, too desperate to wait any longer. you needed him inside you. he hums in satisfaction, his hand leaving your needy cunt.

he brings one of his hands around to your back, lightly pushing you till you’re leaning against the mirror, cheek pressed up against the glass. he holds your waist as his other hand strokes himself a few times before running his tip through your slit. you moan at the contact, fighting the urge to beg for it. his tip breaches your entrance, and you moan loudly as he pushes himself all the way inside you in one go. whimpers leave your lips as he stills inside you for a moment, giving you time to adjust. “pussy was made for me, squeezing me so well,” he grunted as he pulled all the way out and pushed back in swiftly.

he pulled you off the mirror, standing you up on his cock, making sure you could watch him properly. he began to thrust in and out of you at a quick and steady pace, his cock dragging through your tight walls. your mouth fell slack as he hit all the right places, and your eyes began to flutter shut. “eyes open. keep looking,” eunseok demanded; you obey immediately. and in the mirror—his large hand is splayed across your abdomen, another wrapped around your perking nipple. as he thrusts into you, hard, slow, and deep. his teeth sinking into your neck as you cry out in pleasure. your lip is tucked between your teeth as you watched him make you fall apart. something about the dirty scene in front of you bringing you to the edge much quicker than usual.

your walls begin to flutter around his cock, and he can tell you're getting close. his hand falls from your breast to your clit, rubbing harsh circles. and if he wasn’t holding you, you would’ve toppled over right then and there, his movements sending you over the edge immediately as you cum all over his cock. eunseok follows not long after, spilling his load into you, using your cunt to milk him dry. and after bouncing you a few more times on his cock, he pulls out, bending you over again, admiring as his seed spills out of your pussy.

“my pretty girl, we need to do this more often.”

.

..

…

[olivialau]

Shadow's Embrace Ch.32

Sukuna x Reader

Notes:

This story unfolds in the Jujutsu Kaisen world, set in a slightly altered universe where Sukuna inhabits his own vessel distinct from Itadori Yuji's body, making him a separate entity. CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT AND SLIGHT DUBCON.

Summary:

Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, becomes fascinated with a female sorcerer rich in potential but lacking control. Initially seizing her for his destructive plans, Sukuna aims to bind her abilities through a contract. Yet, as he tries to dominate her, he finds himself intrigued by her strength and determination. Over time, his interest evolves from strategic advantage to a deeper, personal connection.

-----------------------------------------

CHAPTER 32 - Two Sides of the Same Door

Through the haze of sleep, you felt the cold sting of the room’s chill against your cheeks. The silken sheets draped over the rest of you held your warmth like a soft cocoon, and you clutched them tighter, dragging them up to cover the tip of your nose—but instantly regretting it as they slipped off your feet, leaving your toes at the mercy of the biting air.

“Damn it,” you muttered under your breath, shifting as you tried to burrow back into your cozy nest, clinging to the last wisps of thoughtless sleep. But there was always some part of you left exposed, just enough for goosebumps to creep across your skin, each one nudging you closer to the horrible but inevitable process of waking up.

You sighed, pulling the silk all the way over your head as if that could somehow make you disappear—or at least protect you from the waking world and its shameful reminders of yesterday.

But there was no escaping.

The raw sting on your inner thighs, the angry scratches on your hips where his claws had dug in like he was holding down a prey, the tender ache of your swollen lips from his countless, hungry kisses—they were all too painfully present to ignore.

Yeah... it was pretty clear that no amount of covers could hide you from the truth:

That, yesterday, Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, had reduced you to a drooling, moaning mess for him...

Him and his stupid, supersized cock.

You grimaced, reaching down to where your skin still tingled and burned, tracing your finger over your thigh, surprised by how tacky and stiff the surface felt.

But you quickly jerked your hand back as your brain processed why—

“Ah, for fuck’s sake,” you whine out. Of course, he hadn’t even bothered to clean up his mess. Dried streaks of cum were still smeared across your skin, a sticky testament to his apparent philosophy of:

'You dare pass out on me? Then suffer the consequences.'

Sleep was definitely off the table now. A shower was all you could think about. So, you pushed the silk sheets off your face, forcing your eyes open.

The four crimson walls of Sukuna’s room stared back at you, only lit up by the flickering glow of a few candles. Their light glinted off the many deadly weapons on display, casting little spots of yellow that danced across the surface.

It was surprisingly beautiful, and you followed the little lights all the way down to the floor, where your torn clothes lay scattered in pieces.

And that’s when you realized, you were among those scraps, sprawled out on the cold oak boards instead of the mattress.

You could add that to the lecture he was definitely going to get later on his complete lack of proper aftercare...

Though you could already hear his cocky retort in your head: 'Hah! A mere human should be honored to sleep in my presence at all.'

Thinking of Sukuna’s presence… you blinked, suddenly uneasy. It wasn’t there—the thick, oppressive energy that always hung around him like a stormcloud.

The air felt wrong without it.

A nervous feeling crept over you as you pushed yourself upright, your gaze immediately darting to the bed—empty.

The mattress still bore the dents, creases, and stains from last night, but Sukuna was nowhere to be seen.

For a second, you couldn’t stop your thoughts from spiraling. Was history about to repeat itself? Did he regret yesterday?

Had it been a bit... too much?

No. You couldn’t let your mind go there. You gave yourself a light slap to the cheek, to snap out of it. Sukuna wouldn’t abandon you—not anymore. He’d admitted it himself: ignoring you only made it worse.

You took a steadying breath.

Actually, this wasn’t unusual at all. The lack of windows in his dark abode made it impossible to tell if dawn had just broken or if the morning was already well underway. And you knew that Sukuna often left early, slipping out to handle whatever bloody business occupied him out there.

Now that you thought about it, there was a big fat chance he hadn’t even left at all. Maybe he was just a floor below, seated on his throne like some goddamn king.

Clutching the sheets tight around your chest, you glanced down at your torn clothes. Completely ruined—unwearable in their current state. You sighed and scanned the room until your eyes landed on one of Sukuna’s robes draped over an antique chair.

It felt like a crime to even look at it, but your options were—you reached down, hand clutching at the shredded remains of your panties on the floor—limited.

What else were you supposed to do when he’d torn every other piece of clothing in the room?

You quickly slipped into the large robe and quietly shuffled over to the door.

When you pushed it open, a sudden flood of light hit you, and you squinted, your eyes fighting to adjust. The huge hole in the doorframe let in all the harsh rays of sunlight, and you could barely see.

“Argh, too bright.”

You held one hand out in front of you like a makeshift obstacle detector while the other shielded your eyes as you tried to peer through the tiny gaps between your fingers.

But even then, you nearly tripped over the damn robe when a loud crash suddenly boomed through the air, followed by screams so piercing that you wished you had a second pair of hands to cover your ears as well as your eyes.

To the best of your ability, you hurried to the entrance and peeked out into the corridor, trying to locate the source of the panic.

But there was no one there...

Then another scream rang out, this one clearly coming from the apartment two doors down. Without thinking, you rushed in that direction. But right as your feet moved, you froze.

There was a sharp swish followed by a guttural growl that could only belong to one person.

Sukuna.

Your breath caught as he stepped into view, casually hauling a massive wooden door under his arm. Blood streaked his bare chest, fresh and glistening, but it was the grin curling at the corner of his mouth that stopped you cold.

He didn’t look the slightest bit bothered by the chaos he’d caused. No—that sorry mess didn’t matter to him.

What mattered to him was you—and how utterly baffled you looked—and how endlessly amusing he found it every time he succeeded in unnerving you like that...

When he was a foot away from you and nearly knocked you in the head with the door that jutted out from under his shoulder, he raised a teasing brow.

“Hm? Not moving, brat?”

Instinctively, you stepped aside and followed him into the apartment, still glaring with wide eyes—kind of—able to deduce what had just happened but unable to let it fully sink in...

Sukuna noticed your big-eyed stare and set the door down against the wall.

He was clearly irritated by your inability to comprehend the obvious, and so he proceeded to explain it to you as if you were some dumb, snotty child.

“It's a new door, woman. Since that blue-eyed pest destroyed the last one... You have eyes, don't you?” He scoffed.

“So why must I spell it out?”

The brand-new door, identical to the old one... his bloodstained chest and the hellish screams from two doors down.

“You...” You put a palm to your face.

“Oh my god, Sukuna, did you hurt the neighbors and steal their door?”

Sukuna looked at you again, that same look as before—the one that made you feel like you’d just said the most dim-witted thing imaginable.

“Huh? Hurt? No... I killed them. Once again, you have functioning eyes, don't you?”

He dragged a finger through the large stain of blood on his chest, as if to drive the point home.

Oh god.

Every time your stupid crush clouded your judgement, Sukuna made sure to remind you of who he really was—in the most twisted, wicked way possible.

And the worst thing... you were pretty sure it wasn’t even intentional; it was just who he was.

“Sukuna! You what?!” You yelled out peeking outside to make sure he wasn't kidding. But to your horror, you saw a big pool of blood forming in front of the entrance, two houses away.

You glared at him in fury,

“You can't just kill people to get a damn door? Are you crazy?”

Sukuna barely paid you any mind as he hoisted the door back into place, lining it up over the hinges with a snarl.

“Woman, you know exactly who I am. I'd say you're the delusional one for thinking I would do anything less than slaughter them...” He let out a cruel chuckle.

“Have you fallen so hard after getting a taste of me that your judgment’s all clouded?”

With a sharp snap, he slammed the door into its hinges.

“Don't think yesterday changes anything. I may tolerate your presence, but that's all. I don't tolerate weak, groveling insects.”

He tolerates you, huh? Somehow, that felt like a compliment. An odd, backhanded one, sure... but;

It scared you how you lit up at his words—forgetting the whole door situation so easily. It was more than unsettling. Sukuna was carving gashes into your morals, into your sense of self, cut by cut—and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

“So… I’m not, a weak, groveling insect? Is that what you’re saying?” you asked, blinking up at him through your lashes.

“If that’s the case… how about you let me return to Jujutsu High? I’m sure I can defend myself now. Seeing as I'm 'not weak' and all,”

Sukuna finally turned to face you, slowly... deliberately.

He cocked his head, crimson eyes narrowing as his hand disappeared into the pocket of his pants.

Time seemed to freeze as he rummaged around, your focus entirely on him. And then, with one quick jerk, he pulled something free—a glint of silver catching the light.

Before you could react, he tossed it at you—your dagger—now hurling in your direction with lightning speed.

“Hey—!” you yelped, scrambling to catch it.

Your fingers slipped over the hilt, the blade nicking your palm before you finally secured it in your grip.

“What the hell?! That’s dangerous!”

Sukuna shrugged, his grin spreading until a flash of white peeked through his lips.

“If a little nick like that has you whining, then you've answered your own question,”

The 'fuck you' forming on your tongue quickly fizzled out as you glanced down at the dagger. The blade was smeared with something dark—fresh blood.

Your stomach churned. Did he…? No. He couldn’t have. Could he?

“What were you even doing with this?” you demanded, your voice dropping lower, reluctant to hear the answer.

Sukuna didn’t bother to reply. Instead, he stepped toward you, like a lion stalking its prey. He stopped just a few paces away, spreading his arms wide to bare his tattooed chest. His gaze flickered briefly to the dagger in your hand, then locked with yours, a challenge in his eyes.

“C’mon, brat,” he rumbled.

“Try and cut me. If you can leave another mark—” He glanced at the faint gash on his palm, the one you’d left there yesterday with this very blade.

“—then I’ll allow you to return to Jujutsu High,” His grin widened until it was all sharp teeth and menace.

The fact that the cut was still there was a bit of a surprise. Why hadn't he healed it? Was it some sort of funny little souvenir to him?

Well... you'd gladly give him another if that meant you could get out of this brick jail.

You gripped the hilt of the blade tighter, steadying your cursed energy as it seeped slowly into the steel. The dagger pulsed under your touch—alive, and growing stronger with every drop you fed it.

Sukuna stood across from you, legs casually planted and arms now relaxed at his sides—deceptively open, practically inviting you to try and touch the invincible King of Curses.

A maddeningly smug grin was plastered across his face, promising one thing: he wasn’t going to go easy on you. And there was no way in hell you’d walk away from this unscathed.

And, to be fair, even you couldn't deny—this was going to be an uphill battle.

The cut you landed yesterday? A mere stroke of luck. He hadn’t seen it coming—hadn't anticipated that you could use your technique on cursed tools too—but now?

His full focus was locked on you.

Surr, he looked unbothered, but you weren’t naive enough to ignore the way his eyes tracked every single twitch of your muscles, every little flicker in your energy.

You took a deep breath.

At least you knew Sukuna’s fighting style; hours of grueling training had burned it into your bones.

His attacks were precise, unforgiving, and overwhelmingly quick.

So... how on earth would you do this?

Outmuscling him? Outrageous idea—his godly abs were staring you right in the face, telling you no way in hell.

Outmaneuvering him? Not a chance—his speed was unrivaled, save maybe for Gojo.

Outsmarting him? Difficult—Sukuna wasn’t just a fighter; he was cunning and calculated, the kind of opponent who could predict your moves before you'd even thought of them.

Which left... what exactly? Dumb luck? Sheer stubbornness? Maybe a few dirty tricks? Yeah, those were pretty much your only options...

You wasted no more time as you lunged forward, feinting left and then slicing low. But he didn’t even bother to dodge; he simply swatted your blade away with the flat of his hand.

At the same time, his other hand shot out, targeting your shoulder with a power-packed punch that you barely managed to dodge, twisting away just in time.

He followed up with a lightning-quick kick aimed at your side—a kick you could barely even perceive—and this time, it hit.

The impact was no joke, knocking the breath clean out of you, pain exploding across your ribcage as you stumbled backward into a coughing fit.

“You bore me, woman,” Sukuna drawled, faking a yawn, as his hands slipped down his pockets.

Gritting your teeth, you found your footing and pushed more cursed energy into the blade, feeling its weight grow heavier in your hands. If Sukuna could swat it away with his bare hands so effortlessly, it was clear you needed to channel every ounce of your power…

You charged again, unleashing a flurry of strikes aimed at his torso, fighting against the pain in your own torso. But Sukuna dodged each strike with infuriating ease—like you were nothing more than an irritating fly buzzing around his head.

“Cute,” he smirked as his hands left his pocket, and he threw his fist at you, this time targeting your stomach.

You squatted down, ducking under his attack and pivoting back to deliver a kick to his shin. And to your surprise, it landed—a small victory... but Sukuna barely flinched.

He grabbed you by the collar of your robe—or rather, his robe—you were still trapped in. And with a sharp yank, he pulled you forward.

You stumbled, your foot catching on the excess fabric at your ankles, cursing under your breath as you lost balance. And Sukuna wasted no time, seizing the opening.

His hand shot out, grasping your wrist and twisting it with a sharp crack, forcing the dagger from your grip...

It clattered to the ground, your lifeline and only chance at freedom lost.

To make things worse—before you could recover—he spun you around and shoved you down, bending you over the back of the couch.

“That's what you get for touching my things without permission, brat,” he taunted, his chest pinning you in place.

“And here I thought you might actually put in some effort to see your pathetic friends at Jujutsu High...”

You struggled against his hold, writhing as your heart thundered in your ears. The position was very uncomfortable, but worse still—it was very distracting. The warmth of his bare chest snug against your back, his breath teasing the side of your neck... it sent waves of vivid flashbacks from the previous day crashing over you.

And as you recalled all the nasty little things the two of you had done... suddenly, an idea hit you;

If there was ever a moment to play dirty, this was it.

You shifted subtly, tilting your hips and pressing your ass up against him. The movement was so slight that it could have been unintentional—not overt enough to betray your intentions, yet deliberate enough to catch Sukuna’s attention.

Just as you hoped.

He froze for a moment, the muscles in his arm letting loose as his cock twitched a single time—it was all the sign you needed to know his focus had slipped.

With the tip of your foot, you nudged the knife up from the ground, wringing free one of your hands and catching the weapon as it flung upward.

At your full speed, you twisted your arm to an impossibly uncomfortable angle and slashed upward, pouring every last drop of cursed energy into the blade as you blindly aimed for his ribs.

Sukuna’s eyes widened as he felt the blade bite into his side—not deep, but enough for a thick stream of blood to spill out.

He let out a low, pissed-off growl, his grip on you tightening for a fleeting moment before he stepped back and pulled away.

You picked yourself up from the back of the couch, panting fiercely as you leveled the dagger at him, the hilt still warm in your sweaty grip.

Meanwhile, Sukuna’s eyes trailed down to the cut, then back to you, a wicked grin returning to his face as he smeared the blood away with his hand.

For a moment, you couldn't help but admire how incredibly sexy he looked while doing so, but you quickly refocused when he let out a low, dark cackle.

“Clever, little minx,” he purred.

You stared at the wound spilling blood, feeling a twinge of guilt, wildly overshadowed by an overbearing satisfaction, as a teasing smile tugged at your lips.

“So, does that mean I can go back to Jujutsu High then?” you asked with a wink.

Sukuna wiped the remnants of blood off on his pants and stepped in your direction.

“Sure, little sorcerer, do whatever you want—” he replied, surprisingly—no, suspiciously easy in his concession.

And lo and behold, before you could fully relish your hard-won triumph, Sukuna's hand slipped around your waist, yanking you toward him and slamming you against the door.

With your back pressed against the cool wood, his calloused hand clamped around your wrists, pinning them above your head as the dagger clattered helplessly to the floor.

“And I’ll do as I please too,” he murmured against your ear, his breath filled with a hunger that you knew meant trouble.

With no mercy, he ripped the belt from your robe, the fabric falling open to expose your bare skin beneath. His toothy grin made way for a lustful smirk—one that was unexpectedly soft and playful for a man they called the King of Curses.

“Ah...! Don't do that,” you breathed, a shiver rippling through you as he traced his nails down your breast, visibly delighting in the display of scratches and marks he’d left on you the day before.

“Don’t do that? Have you forgotten… this is my robe. I can do whatever I desire with it,” his voice dropped to a sultry growl, deep and throaty—the cold touch of his fingertips drifting lower, teasing at the juncture of your legs.

“I can tear it right off your body if it pleases me.”

His hand slipped between the soft fat of your thighs, fingers burrowing down your folds as he found your clit with surprising ease. He began tracing circles, slowly drawing out each little motion as your legs instinctively clenched around his hand.

You’d never expected Sukuna to be so skilled at something so delicate; and it had to be a natural talent because you were certain he didn’t have any real experience in pleasing women.

Sure, he’d undoubtedly fucked an entire carousel back in the Heian Era, but this wasn't mere fucking—this was playing, teasing—edging.

And just as heat began to coil tightly in your belly, he withdrew his hand, trailing lower to collect the juices leaking from your cunt.

“And by the looks of you—”

He smeared the slick over the tender skin between your thighs, blending it with remnants of yesterday’s escapades that you still hadn’t managed to wash off.

“All marked and coated by me… I’d say I’ve left quite the claim on this insatiable body too.” His lips curled into a devilish grin, and your cheeks flushed crimson as you looked away.

“Argh—shut up! I'm not your property... I'm��Ah!”

Sukuna’s grip shifted from your thighs to your ass, squeezing a handful of flesh as he pressed his blood-stained torso against your breasts. His mouth inched toward your neck, teeth grazing your skin before he dragged his tongue slowly up to your ear, where a breathy whisper reverberated against your eardrums.

“Hmm~ is that so? Lucky for you, I have no qualms about taking what does not belong to me either.”

He pressed his growing cock against your pelvis, and you gulped, your heartbeat quickening as your hands twitched helplessly against his firm grasp.

Then, with a harsh slap to your ass—that stung like hell, by the way—his hand slid back down to your cunt, teasingly halting at your entrance...

He tapped lightly, his finger probing and rubbing, but never entering, the slick sound of your arousal filling the air as strings of juices clung to his fingertip.

You had to fight the urge to beg for more—so fucking bad.

And just as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of breaking, on the verge of surrendering your pride, a loud bang echoed against the door, reverberating through your entire body.

The doorframe shuddered, again and again as the first bang was followed by a chorus of firm knocks on the other side of the door.

Sukuna's expression darkened, a burning red igniting in his narrowed eyes as they locked onto the rattling doorknob. His patience thinned with each persistent knock, and his fingers twitched, ready to cut down whoever was behind that door.

But just as he prepared to strike, a voice sliced through the charged tension.

“Will you open the door? I can sense your cursed energy from miles away, Sukuna. We have matters to discuss.”

You recognized that voice—smooth and seemingly amicable, yet undeniably cold; it belonged to his monk-clad accomplice with the long shiny hair and the weird stitch down his forehead.

If you remembered right, he introduced himself as Geto back then...

Sukuna let out a mix between a sigh and a growl, his brows furrowing as his pupils shifted from the doorknob to you, warning you with his piercing stare.

“Don’t move and don’t make a sound.”

With that, he released your wrists, using the hand to grasp the doorknob and crack the door open just enough to peer through, effectively trapping you against the door with his body.

The fingers of his other hand continued to hold your dripping pussy hostage, teasing at your entrance even when you tried to push his hand away.

Fuck, this was embarrassing—so embarrassing that you felt like you might spontaneously combust when Sukuna started casually conversing with Geto through the gap.

“What is it? I’m busy. I don’t take lightly to being interrupted, Kenjaku.”

Kenjaku? That was strange... you were so certain he’d introduced himself as Geto before—or were you mistaken?

You tried to focus on their conversation, making every effort to ignore the little jolts of pleasure that threatened to escape as moans. Sukuna dipped down with just the slightest bit more force each time, nearly slipping inside and keeping you on edge.

The calm yet cold voice on the other side of the door answered:

“Hah. Yes, I’m terribly sorry about that, but there’s been a change of plans, and I had to inform you. We wouldn’t want to do anything without your say-so, now would we?”

“Hmph.”

Sukuna’s brows unfurrowed ever so slightly at the explanation, and you even caught the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. But it quickly became clear that had nothing to do with the conversation.

Suddenly, you felt his thick finger breach past your entrance, the sharp edge of his nail skimming against your gummy walls. An unexpected gasp slipped from your lips, and you quickly clamped your hand over your mouth, desperate to stifle the sound.

You shot Sukuna a pleading look, shaking your head, silently begging him to stop. But the smug bastard didn't even acknowledge you.

If anything, your silent protests only seemed to spur him on.

His pace quickened, finger pumping in and out of you, each thrust grazing all your tender spots inside with torturous precision. Waves of tingly pleasure rippled through your nerves, only amplified by how on high alert you were at the possibility of getting caught at any moment.

And damn, your body betrayed you so easily, clenching around his finger despite your mind’s protests.

Sukuna, on the other hand, kept his poker face effortlessly intact, continuing his conversation with not a care in the world...

Though that wasn't to say he didn't secretly relish every tight squeeze around his digit—every pretty little moan you so desperately tried to suppress.

“Well, I don't have time, leave and tell me later.” he hissed through the crack of the door, already moving to slam it shut.

But just before it closed, you caught Geto—or was it Kenjaku?—shoving his sandal between the door's edge.

Your heart lurched in panic. There was no way you were going to get caught in this position. You’d never recover your pride—if you even had any left.

Desperate to escape, you tried to slip from Sukuna’s grip, but he tightened his hold, refusing to let you go.

His muscled torso pressed you tighter against the door as he pushed in a second finger, both curling up to press right against your most sensitive spot before he fell back into his rhythm.

And with two thick fingers fucking into you, the moist, mushy sounds of your arousal became shamefully obvious, your cunt growing wetter and wetter.

“I see... is that so?” The composed purr from the other side was now tinged with a knowing hint of mischief.

“—I’ll give you a second then. Though, I really must insist you wrap it up,” he added, finally pulling his foot back from the door, allowing your pounding heart a brief respite as you exhaled through your fingers.

Sukuna grunted, clearly not thrilled, but reluctantly agreed.

“Fine,” he spat, before slamming the door shut and turning his gaze back to you.

He tore your hand from your mouth and slid his fingers down your cunt, all the way to the base, wanting to hear you moan over him properly, at least once.

Then, with a slow pull, he retracted his fingers, leaving you terribly empty, clenching down on nothing but air.

His hand glistened with your juices, and he admired his efforts for a moment before casually wiping them dry against his chest.

“We'll have to finish this some other time, little sorcerer,” he murmured, finally stepping back and giving you some space to breathe.

Though, in all honesty, you were more than a little disappointed he cut it off like that.

And apparently, your face betrayed your frustration because Sukuna's scowl softened into a half grin, his eyes catching your sad, shiny ones.

“Hah. So desperate? In that case, I’ll make sure you beg for it properly next time,” he teased, pulling you away from the door and ushering you on with a rough push to your back.

“Shower, clean that filth off, and go to your precious friends at Jujutsu High,” he called out from behind you as he walked back to the door and grabbed hold of the knob.

You froze at his words. He'd seriously allow you to go back to Jujutsu High? And today, no less? A rush of excitement jolted through you, quickly replacing any lingering disappointment with a silly sense of joy.

“Hurry, brat, unless you want to give my visitor a show,” Sukuna warned, tapping his foot in impatience.

Oh snap. You pulled the robe close and hurried to the bathroom, a small smile tugging at your lips. Once inside, you locked the door behind you and let out a long sigh of relief.

Finally, this confinement would end. You’d be able to see your friends again, escape this cramped apartment, and taste a sliver of freedom—even if the vow, ultimately, still shackled you.

Though right now... that wasn’t even the strongest chain holding you in place.

No, that honor belonged to your ever-growing feelings for Sukuna, binding you in ways far more terrifying than any vow ever could.

You turned to the mirror, studying your reflection as the robe slipped off your shoulders, pooling at your feet. Now, seeing all the scratches and marks Sukuna had left on you for the first time...

And there were plenty of them.

It was as if you could still feel his touch, and god, it felt so good... but you couldn’t help but wonder: was this really okay?

Were you just a fleeting object of enjoyment to Sukuna, or something more?

That thought—that gnawing uncertainty—made you doubt everything.

Stepping into the shower, you let the warm water wash away the lingering traces of his touch, the sticky sweat, and all the other... bodily fluids, disappearing down the drain.

You even allowed yourself to let go of some of the worry, rinsing it away alongside the rest.

For now, you'd shift your focus to the happy things in life: the prospect of seeing your friends again, fresh air, a different environment, talking to your mom, your dad, apologizing, and making everything right...

After drying off, you reached for the uniform tucked in your bag, silently thanking the gods for its long sleeves and high collar—perfect for hiding any residual marks.

You threw on some makeup, fixed your hair, and then stepped out of the bathroom with an excited rush, your backpack slung over your shoulder, ready to go.

Sukuna and his accomplice—now unmistakably recognizable as the man who introduced himself to you as Geto—stood in front of the door, wrapping up whatever short but important conversation they were having.

With your ears perked, you caught the distant sound of Sukuna���s voice.

“Tomorrow afternoon, then. Report back after—or send that fool Jogo, I don’t care. Just take one of them with you. I want to see for myself how strong they are.”

His voice had an unsettling edge to it—a kind of forcibly contained excitement that made your skin crawl. You could feel it in the air too, no doubt a bad omen for what was to come...

When you hesitantly pushed past the doorframe, both men’s eyes snapped to you.

The monk’s serious expression immediately morphed into a fake, polite smile. He regarded you with a little bow of his head and a casual wave.

“Leaving too, are you? Shall I escort you out, miss?”

Sukuna shot him a sharp warning glare at the daring suggestion but still turned away, dismissing his black-haired accomplice with a flick of his hand as he made his way toward the basement.

“Do as you wish, Kenjaku. You know better than to mess with what’s mine, right?” Sukuna glanced over his shoulder one last time, a dangerous grin curling on his lips, before brushing past you.

As he did, he left a breathy whisper at your ear. “Don’t concern yourself. That man knows exactly what I’m capable of.”

You watched him disappear into the basement, and with a deep breath, your gaze reluctantly shifted back to the man—whose name now eluded you—still waiting by the door.

Yanking your coat from the couch, you slipped your arms through, eager to escape—but not before one last thing.

“So, your name’s Kenjaku, then? Not Geto?” you asked, trying to mask the unease in your voice.

Kenjaku chuckled, his brows tugging at the scar on his forehead. “I have many names. Don’t worry about it.”

He gracefully opened the door, gesturing for you to step outside.

You offered him a forced laugh as thanks and quickly turned right, quickening your pace to put as much distance between you and him as possible.

But, as luck would have it, he called after you, sending a chill down your spine.

“Wait.”

You turned, and Kenjaku stood right behind you, his usual slitted eyes now sharp with a dangerous gleam, his polite smile twisted into a sly, devilish smirk.

“We need to discuss something, girl.”

---------------------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading, lovely people 💕 I promise Yuji and the others will be back in the next chapter. ALSO sorry for the slow updates; I'll try to pick up the pace, much like Sukuna this chapter lol 🤭

Taglist: @sukunasthightattoos , @tomiokasecretlover , @6demonize6me6 , @blindbabycadder , @domainofmarie , @marcoschuitmaker , @geniejunn , @chanaaaannel , @nessca153, @technicallysublimedemon,

If you want to be added to the taglist, so you don't miss any updates, please let me know in the comments or with a private message. Thankyou!

[madangel19]

Phantom whimpered; being pressed up against the wall like this, held aloft in Swiss’ rugged arms, made the Quint’s entire body tremble with need.

He had been an easy catch and he knew it; but how could he resist when the Multi-Ghoul looked so good? Swiss was as enticing as any Incubus and the pull that he had elicited just to lure Phantom over the threshold of his room had been as easy as breathing.

It came natural to the Multi-Ghoul, this silken seduction, and just like that the little Quint was sex-drunk and begging for as much as Swiss could give him. His charmer was happy to oblige.

Oh lord this is real nice and real fun to write about. Enjoy ^-^

Content: Tail job, slightly dubious quintessence use, Swiss being a lil weirdo about blood, aphrodisiac use, Swiss with a pierced dick, just a lot of foreplay going on up in here

“Phantom.”

The ghoul groaned softly in his sleep, the strange disturbance slowly rousing him from a nice dream he was having. 

“Wake up, Buggy. Come to me.” 

Phantom tried to push the voice away, but a sudden wave of sweet arousal washed over him. He gasped, opening his eyes and finding himself already out of bed and walking to the door. Was this a dream? It certainly didn’t feel like a dream when his tail knocked over a nearby chair.

He opened the door, chirping softly at that strange presence as it took a hold of him once he stepped into the hallway. He giggled drunkenly, swaying to and fro before walking forward as if being led on a chain around his neck. There was nothing there, but he felt it. It was strange, but something about it was familiar. He had felt this before, but where?

“Come to my room, Buggy.”

Phantom obeyed that voice that whispered so sweetly in his ears as if it were right behind him. He glanced behind him just in case it was there and saw that he was alone. 

“Now, Buggy. Don’t keep us waiting.”

His focus was back on the voice. It sounded so rich and strong in his head. The way it vibrated through him made him squirm in place and whine as he felt himself grow hard and needy. 

He blinked and saw a purple haze surrounding him. He gazed at it in wonder as it moved, creating a trail that led right to Swiss’s room. He had to follow it. 

Phantom stepped forward and the more he got closer to Swiss’s room, the more intense his arousal grew as rich caramel and vanilla flooded his senses. One of Swiss’s signature scents that he absolutely adored. 

“I’m right in here, Buggy. Open the door.”

Phantom rushed forward, opening the door. He was greeted by darkness that quickly grabbed him and dragged him in with terrifying ease. He let out a yelp before he was slammed against the wall, held up by that strange shadow that slowly took form until Swiss smiled down at him. The darkness subsided, revealing a purple fog that enveloped Swiss’s room. The multi ghoul chuckled darkly, purple tendrils of that sweet smelling smoke trickling from his mouth and nose. 

“I got you, Buggy,” he purred, wrapping his tail around his waist and pulling Phantom’s pants down, freeing his cock. 

Phantom could only stare at Swiss in awe. His naked body was adorned in beautiful gold and silver jewelry. From the gold in his locks and then to silver in his pierced cock, he was beautiful. 

“S…Swiss,” Phantom whimpered, blushing as the bigger ghoul licked his cheek, his tongue piercing tickling his skin just the right way. 

“Yeah? What do you want, Buggy?” Swiss asked, his voice low as his clawed fingers lightly caressed his sides. 

“I…I need…,” his voice trailed off when the multi ghoul’s gold-tipped tail slowly wrapped around the base of his cock, slowly jerking him off. Phantom bit down on his lip with a hiss, drawing blood. This brought a rumbling growl from Swiss who immediately tilted his chin up with a single claw, forcing him to make eye contact with him. 

Phantom gazed into his eyes and saw the growing hunger in his deep purple eyes before he pulled him into a ravenous kiss. Swiss’s aphrodisiac filled Phantom’s lungs, making him gasp softly as the multi ghoul pushed his long tongue into his mouth, exploring every inch of him. Swiss’s tail continued jerking him off as his own thick cock pressed against Phantom’s belly. 

“So good,” Swiss moaned into the kiss before pulling away and sucking on Phantom’s bloodied lip. It stung, but Swiss’s saliva was already working its magic on him. 

“So good,” Phantom repeated, giggling drunkenly before a moan escaped his lips when Swiss began teasing the tip of his cock with his tail. 

“Yeah, you like that, Buggy?” Swiss asked, pecking him on the cheek. 

“Fuck…I do,” Phantom moaned back, leaning forward and kissing along Swiss’s neck. He even tasted sweet. He had no idea what the fuck was going on, but he wasn’t complaining. 

“Such a sweet little thing. You want me to fuck you stupid?” Swiss asked, reaching around and squeezing Phantom’s ass while teasing his tip even more. 

Phantom nodded his head, tears of pleasure welling up in his eyes as he felt hot precum leaking from his cock. The multi ghoul clucked his tongue in disapproval, petting the top of Phantom’s head and tousling his already messy hair. 

“You can do better than that. Use your words, Bug.” 

Phantom took a deep breath and pulled his head away from Swiss’s neck, finding the words he so badly needed to use. 

“I…I need you to fuck me ‘till I can’t walk,” he murmured, his voice ragged. 

He hiccuped, a small puff of purple smoke curling from his lips. The smile that came from Swiss radiated warmth as he leaned in and nuzzled his cheek with a loving purr. Phantom was in complete bliss for a moment before Swiss’s tail pushed on his cock the right way and he came with a soft cry, spilling himself on Swiss’s tail and his stomach.

“Aw, poor thing. Let me fuck you better,” Swiss cooed, scooping him up into his arms and carrying Phantom to his bed. 

“Yes…Yes please,” Phantom whispered, breathing in the smoke that surrounded him and going dumb from pleasure as he was placed amongst silky soft blankets that smelled like Swiss. 

“Sweet Bug.”

[hb-writes]

What's Needed Most

Summary: 1923 in the Little Lady Blinderverse. When Clara is the victim of a mugging near her sister's home in Primrose Hill, she's given orders to rest.

Characters: Ada Shelby, Tommy Shelby & Clara Shelby (OC)

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Comfy-vember 2024 Masterlist

—

Clara sat in front of the vanity in Ada’s guest room, studying the bruise settling in on her cheek as her sister brought a brush through her wet, tangled hair. It had taken ages for Ada to get the house to this point—quiet and calm and with everyone near ready for bed—and Ada sighed when she heard the front door open.

“Stay here,” Ada said, her hands placed on Clara’s shoulders for a moment before she leaned down to kiss her sister’s cheek. 

Clara was too tired to fight her sister on staying put. Ordinarily upon her sister’s leaving, Clara might have stood and moved to stand near the door, or bolder yet, the top of the stairs all the better to hear the conversation between her brother and sister, but just now it seemed an impossible distance to cross. 

And Clara hadn’t any real need of listening in as she could almost imagine the conversation anyhow. She knew Ada intended to talk Tommy down from a shouting match because it was so late and Clara wasn’t feeling well. And especially because Ada had just gotten Karl to go down for the night in the room across the hall. 

As Clara’s ears caught the distinctive sound of Tommy’s steps on the staircase, she reached out for the hairbrush Ada had set aside. Pain shot through Clara’s hand and wrist as she tried to pull it into her grasp and the brush clattered as it fell against the vanity. Clara flinched, meeting her brother’s eye in the mirror as he appeared there.

Clara wasn’t surprised by his presence so much as the tenderness that showed on his face. Tommy was still wearing his coat and hat, his eyes shifting from her reflection in the mirror to the wrist which was carefully wrapped.

“The doctor said I’ve not broken it,” Clara offered, meeting her brother’s gaze through the mirror as he pulled his eyes from her wrist. “Just sprained,” she continued.

Tommy nodded. He knew his sister would be fine. He knew that Alfie Solomons had made sure a doctor that he knew and trusted—a man by the name of Dr. Hirsch—had tended to Clara’s injuries. He knew the man would pay her a visit in the morning and she was expected to follow up in a few weeks to monitor progress as well. Tommy had known all that for hours now and yet, it was something different to see for himself that she was well-enough. It was a relief. 

Tommy couldn’t help but think his sister looked impossibly small and young with one of Ada’s dressing gowns wrapped around her, the hem of it pooling on the floor, and her long, tangled hair left wet down her back. 

Tommy took a step into the room and closed the door. Clara turned toward her brother as he removed his coat and hat, watching as he settled them both on a chair.  

The bruising on Clara’s face was more startling head on, covering almost the entirety of the left side of her face, two separate injuries that had blossomed to form one large bruise. 

Clara closed her eyes when Tommy reached out, his hold gentle as he caught her chin and tilted her face toward the dimmed light.

“Our sister made me promise not to shout in her house, so I’ll say it quietly. What did you not understand when I told you to go straight to Ada’s?” he asked.

Clara kept her eyes closed, almost seeming as though she hadn’t heard him, as if by keeping her eyes shut, she could avoid the conversation, the disappointment. Maybe if she kept her eyes closed and let Tommy continue to stare at her bruised face, the tenderness would come back. Maybe Tommy would be able to keep his promises to Ada about the shouting.

After all, she had been at Ada’s for close to two hours now and her sister hadn’t shouted even once. Clara supposed she had Mr. Solomons to thank for that, for explaining what the doctor had said about her head. What he had recommended about the importance of a few days’ worth of quiet and rest. 

“She wasn’t home,” Clara finally said. 

She had later learned that her sister and Karl had just been out to a shop. If Clara had waited just a few minutes, they would have returned, but Clara had taken her sister’s locked door as an opportunity to wander the neighborhood. “I…I thought it was safe.” 

Her mind still couldn’t quite reconcile the fact that it hadn’t been safe. Primrose Hill was a safe neighborhood. Tommy had bought Ada’s house here for a reason. Never had Clara been afraid while out walking with her sister, not even during the evening.  

But here she had been accosted in broad daylight. She had been robbed on a seemingly innocuous street, in a well-off neighborhood. Clara wasn’t entirely sure how she had ended up in Camden Town, but when she woke, Alfie Solomons had been there along with his sister and his nephew and a doctor.

Clara squinted her eyes open as Tommy pulled his hand away. 

“Well, you’re safe now,”  he answered, before reaching over for the brush. “Turn around.” 

It had been ages since Tommy had brushed and braided Clara’s hair. Ages since she would have allowed it, but Clara turned to face the mirror, a calm settling over her as her brother smoothed out the tangles before weaving her hair in a simple braid down her back.

Without his needing to prompt her, Clara moved to the bed as Tommy pulled a chair near to the bedside. It was a routine they both knew, Tommy and Clara going through the motions in silence, perfectly coordinated though they hadn’t rehearsed the routine in ages. 

“Aren’t you mad at me?” Clara asked as Tommy arranged the blankets around her.

Clara hadn’t really expected her brother to be able to uphold his promise to Ada. She’d expected a bit of shouting at the very least, but here he was braiding her hair and tucking her in.

“I’m mad as hell,” Tommy answered, “but you need to rest more than you need to be shouted at.”

Clara laid her head down against the pillows as she considered Tommy’s words. She was exhausted, both physically and mentally, but some part of her thought she was due a bit of shouting anyhow. Some part of her thought it might help to wipe a bit of the guilt she’d collected away. 

She’d gotten herself hurt and she was sorry for that. Sorry for worrying her brother and sister. Sorry for putting Alfie Solomons through the trouble, but that guilt wasn’t what had a heaviness settling in the pit of her stomach. 

It was the things that had been stolen off her that gave her the most trouble. Tommy’s watch, mostly. She’d been looking after it since before the war. He had said it was hers when he came back, told her to keep it, but she’d always still considered it his. 

“They took your watch, Tommy. I’m sorry I—” 

Tommy reached into his pocket without hesitation, retrieving his sister’s pocket watch. Clara caught his hand as he dangled the watch between them, Tommy’s gaze going to the splattered blood on his sleeve at the same time as Clara’s did. 

“Tommy, there’s blood on your—” 

“None of it mine,” Tommy answered, though that much was already clear. Clara understood that the return of her personal effects meant that the men responsible had been found and dealt with. 

“You should get some sleep, my girl,” Tommy added before she could continue. He exposed the watch’s clock face, the steady tick-tock momentarily drawing Clara’s attention from the flecks of blood dotting her brother’s arm. 

Clara nodded, taking the watch and settling it on the bedside table before leaning back into the pillows.

“Ada’s sending my things out in the morning to be cleaned.” Tommy followed Clara’s gaze as she pointed toward the cream colored coat that hung on the back of the door, blood splattered along the collar. “You can send your shirt as well.” 

Tommy glanced back at his sister, his eyes now catching the thin cut along her throat where one of the men had held a knife. 

“It seems a red coat is more sensible for a Shelby girl, after all. Less stains,” Clara said, half a smile on her face before she realized that Tommy didn’t find it particularly funny. He’d once been insistent that a red coat was a target Clara didn’t need, drawing too much attention.

“Enough talking,” he said, standing from the bed. “Get some sleep.” 

“Wait! Can you read for a bit?” 

Clara had brought the book up from Ada’s sitting room, but after looking at it for only a few seconds, she had realized she wouldn’t be able to read, not until the pain in her head passed and her vision cleared, at least. 

“Just one chapter? Please?” 

Tommy was exhausted and he wanted to speak with Ada about all that had happened, but he leaned back in the chair he had pulled up to the bedside instead. He removed his cufflinks and rolled back his sleeve, hiding away the bloodstain, Clara’s eyes tracking the spot until it disappeared. 

“Eyes closed,” Tommy said as he grabbed her book and opened to the first page, and began to read. 

Clara complied quickly when her brother began to read, her breath evening out before two pages were through. Tommy made it another two pages on his own before he, too, drifted off.

After a scare like today, Tommy needed rest just as much as his sister. More than shouting and strategy, he needed to sleep, and now that he’d gotten retribution, now that he’d seen to it that his sister was alright, sleep came easier than most days.

—

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Comfy-vember 2024 Masterlist

[imhereforthelesbianstuff]

A little scene (very quick, sorry for possible mistakes) in between the battle with Ambessa and Vander, and Vi waking up in Caitlyn's bed. I just can't take this off of my mind. (Translation by ChatGPT)

The smoke was beginning to dissipate, and above the ringing in her ears, Caitlyn could start to hear a voice. No, shouts. And when she finally managed to understand what the shouts were saying, panic washed over her.

"Vi! Vi! Wake up!" Jinx screamed, shaking her sister with one hand, the other gripping one of the Noxian warrior weapons, keeping the arriving enforcers at bay.

Caitlyn remembered it clearly—she had been carrying Vi, but she had slipped away. She had run to stop her sister from jumping into the battle to save that little girl. She had protected Jinx from the explosion with her own body.

Cait rose as fast as she could, still dazed from the explosion, running toward Vi, giving orders with a simple gesture for her men to lower their weapons and step back. She threw herself on top of Vi, replacing Jinx's screams with her own. Jayce appeared behind her, and Caitlyn didn’t care where from. He was urging her to leave, but she wasn’t going to leave Vi behind.

Jinx grabbed her by the shoulders forcefully. "Save her! She matters to you, right? Save her." Part of Caitlyn’s dazed brain was shocked by what was in front of her: barely a girl with a face streaked with tears, begging her to save her sister. Could this really be the same person she’d hated? Jinx shoved her shoulder hard, turning back toward Vi’s lifeless body. "Do something, come on! She cares about you. She... Do you love her?" Jinx’s gaze was so intense that Caitlyn had to step back a few inches. "Save her." And finally, Caitlyn seemed to snap back to reality. She saw Loris among her men, staring at Vi in horror.

"Loris, help me, she needs to see a doctor." The man nodded, determined, and approached to lift Vi into his arms. They couldn’t go back to camp; this was Ambessa’s territory. Behind them, Caitlyn heard shouting and a scuffle—her men had captured Jinx, who was simply following Vi with her gaze, offering no resistance. Caitlyn raised a hand toward her, unsure of what order to give. Let her go? Handcuff her?

"Commander, are you coming?" Loris shouted, moving as fast as he could with Vi. And Caitlyn didn’t hesitate any longer; she went with him.

"We should take her to a hospital," Jayce said, still with her, though it was clear he, too, needed one.

"No," Caitlyn’s reply was curt. Ambessa would have easy access to a hospital, though the real reason was that Caitlyn didn’t want to lose sight of Vi again. If she woke up in a hospital, she was sure Vi would leave, and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever see her again. She didn’t want to face that thought right now.

She guided Loris and a small group to her own house, taking her companion through hallways toward her bedroom. She wouldn’t feel safe with Vi anywhere else.

In one of those hallways, they crossed paths with Maddie, who was surely there as part of the guard left to watch the house, keeping her father safe.

"Caitl..." She couldn’t even finish the sentence. Caitlyn passed her by without looking at her, not even acknowledging her presence, with deep concern on her face.

"Vi’s injured," Loris explained quickly, carrying the unconscious bundle in his arms.

"Vi?" was all the young woman could say, completely confused. As far as she knew, Vi had left the platoon after an altercation with Caitlyn. Why was she unconscious in her house now? And why did Caitlyn have that desperate look on her face?

As soon as they reached Caitlyn’s room, she pointed to the bed, giving orders to clear the area and call for a doctor. She was left alone in the room with Loris.

"Is she going to...?" Loris couldn’t finish the question.

"She’ll be fine. You don’t know her like I do; she’s tough, she can handle this," Caitlyn cut him off sharply, leaning over Vi. She pulled off the jacket someone had placed on her, which was hastily pressed against the wound on her side, tearing a piece of sheet to press it clean. She started removing the makeshift bandages from her torso, now soaked in blood and ashes, but when she reached her chest, she couldn’t help but pause. Loris turned around, but it wasn’t for him—Caitlyn felt as though she was invading something very intimate of Vi’s, something she longed to know, but only if Vi wanted to share it. Of course, her life was in danger. She left the bandage as it was and focused on cleaning the exposed wound, just as a doctor arrived. Caitlyn stepped back immediately, staying just a few steps behind the doctor, watching every move with desperation.

Maddie was at the door, still not understanding anything. Was she even friends with Vi? Caitlyn had never been this worried about her, this terrified. At that moment, it seemed like Caitlyn’s sanity depended entirely on Vi surviving.

Another doctor had to join them. Hours passed, and Caitlyn could feel her body trembling from the panic. She hadn’t even sat down, always a few steps behind the doctors, making sure Vi’s chest still rose and fell, that she was still breathing. One of the doctors suggested taking her to the hospital, but Caitlyn refused again. They were going to save her, and they were going to save her there.

After many hours, three exhausted doctors left the room, leaving behind a weakened but stable Vi. Caitlyn thanked them as neutrally as she could, but as soon as they closed the door behind them, she couldn’t stop herself from collapsing to her knees beside the bed, letting out all the tears from hours of tension and worry. Days and weeks of guilt. She took Vi’s hand in hers, bringing it to her cheek, unable to stop crying.

By the time Jayce entered the room, Caitlyn was lying on the bed, her back propped up against the headboard, her gaze fixed on Vi, watching her breath. She had changed the bloodstained sheets with Loris’s help, and Caitlyn had carefully put a shirt on Vi, handling her injuries with the utmost care. She had even washed her hair gently, slowly, so as not to hurt her, almost ritually, until it regained the red Caitlyn had first known her with.

"How is she?" Jayce asked, moving closer to the bed. He, too, seemed to be in better condition.

"She’ll live," Caitlyn didn’t even look away from Vi to answer, her gaze so intense that Jayce almost felt uncomfortable. He had his suspicions about Caitlyn’s feelings for Vi from the moment she had brought her into the council room, but when Vi disappeared, he hadn’t thought for a second about how his friend might feel. Caitlyn had seemed fine. Now, he realized how wrong he had been.

"We need you in the council. We both know Ambessa will come for you, and for all of Piltover."

"I know," Caitlyn didn’t move an inch.

"She’s fine, Cait."

"I know."

"And she’ll stay fine." Caitlyn didn’t respond, only reached out a hand toward the mattress, closer to Vi, but not touching her.

"She’s not going anywhere, Cait."

Caitlyn furrowed her brow for just a second, as if she wasn’t so sure of that.

"How close is Ambessa?"

"No trace of her yet."

"Then this can wait."

"Cait, I don’t think—"

"Can you call Loris?" She cut her friend off. "There’s something that can’t wait."

Caitlyn walked slowly toward the cell, the sound of her footsteps the only noise on the cold floor. The girl inside the cell didn't move, curled up in a corner, long blue locks surrounding her. The explosion had barely touched her, thanks to the shield that had been Vi.

"Vi's fine, she's alive. And stable," Caitlyn had come here just to say that, not intending to stay any longer. She felt she owed it to Vi, even to Jinx, who had saved her life. The only thing that worried her was that they would save her sister’s. She had come to tell her that Vi was fine before returning to her side; she didn't want Vi to wake up without her.

"Thank you," was all Jinx responded, her only movement being the slump of her shoulders, as if she had just let go of a heavy weight. Caitlyn turned to leave.

"Who was the girl?" There was no response from Jinx. She only buried her face deeper into her arms.

"I'm sorry," Caitlyn murmured before walking away.

She stayed lying next to Vi, barely moving, even when a doctor came to check her condition. Caitlyn was always there, on the other side of the bed, watching over her, taking care of her.

"Caitlyn?" The door opened suddenly, and there was Maddie, looking at her with confusion written all over her face. She looked first at Caitlyn, lying beside Vi, staring at her, then at Vi, still unconscious in a bed where not long ago, it had been Maddie. And then back to Caitlyn, who was now glaring at her, annoyed by the interruption.

"Well?" The Commander asked when Maddie couldn’t find her voice.

"The first Noxian ships have appeared." Caitlyn sighed and looked back at Vi, who was breathing normally, though still unconscious.

"How close are they?" She certainly wasn't going to leave here unless it was absolutely necessary. Maddie noticed this, frowning.

"The landing is imminent." She stood there, glaring at Caitlyn, who was now gazing at Vi’s face with a tenderness Maddie had never seen before. Caitlyn was about to tell her to leave, to go warn her when they were near the shores. Clearly, she didn’t want to move from here.

"Commander, we need to prepare for battle," Maddie pressed, planting herself firmly in place, as if refusing to leave without her.

Caitlyn let her head drop with a sigh of resignation, her fingers lightly brushing the back of Vi’s hand.

"I know. Wait for me in my study, I’ll be there soon."

Maddie didn’t move from the door, jealousy written in the way she looked at Vi.

"Officer Nolen, wait for me in the study for instructions," Caitlyn said authoritatively, slightly leaning over Vi, as if trying to protect her from the venom in Maddie’s gaze, who finally started to withdraw.

"And tell Loris if he can come, I don’t want her waking up alone." Maddie nodded curtly, closing the door behind her.

Caitlyn lay back down on the bed, her cheek resting on Vi’s shoulder, holding her hand.

"I'm sorry I can't be here when you wake up." Footsteps approached the door, probably Loris. Caitlyn left a simple kiss on Vi's cheek, close to her lips. "Don't hate me."

By the time Loris entered the room, the Commander was already standing by the bed, giving him some instructions before she left the room.

[etclouie]

i just know luke alvez is a tease, as such could i request 17 "you can't ignore me. not anymore." from the 100 prompt list, and then 20 from the smut section of the 150 dialogue list

˚୨୧⋆｡ prompt/s; 17) "you can't ignore me. not anymore." 20) “after that little stunt? you’re not getting off that easy.” — from 100 dialogue prompts and 150 prompts

˚୨୧⋆｡ warnings; fingering, mentions of previous orgasms (2/3), luke being a tease, edging essentially and orgasm denial, allusions to sucking luke’s dick, that’s it really?

˚୨୧⋆｡ a/n; i’d of caved

— celebrate 600 with me?

you’d been ignoring Luke all day, or barely registering his presence throughout your house while he followed you like a lost puppy. 

to say it annoyed him would be an understatement, he was sulking all day until he finally got you into bed. 

it was easy enough to wind him up, always getting the same reaction out of him— both of you naked and in your bed together. 

kinda like now. 

you were spread out naked beneath him, one of his hands pinning both of yours above your head while he moved two of his fingers in and out of you. while on the contrary, he was still fully dressed— which made you ache for him just that tiny bit more. 

moans toppling from your lips at the pace he had set, your second or third orgasm teetering on the edge. 

yet you still refused to look up at him, which only made him chuckle now. you both knew it was futile, trying to ignore him— especially with the way your pussy was spasming around his fingers. 

"you can't ignore me, not anymore”

he whispered out, his lips pressing kisses across your jaw until he was inches from your lips. wanting to turn to face him but still refusing to do so, making him smirk to himself. 

his fingers continued moving inside you, ignoring the spasming of your cunt around them and the way your hands tried to wriggle free from his hold. 

“baby, all you gotta do is look at me”

he tried to coax you, his voice soft and smooth— silky almost. the words dripping from his tongue, and his fingers slowing down almost to a stop. 

a whine fell from your lips, bucking your hips to try and get him to continue and pouting as they slid out of your warmth. 

against your better judgement, you relented. looking up at him with a pout, noticing the smug smirk across his face as he lifted his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean. 

a lewd and teasing groan leaving him as he held your gaze, letting his fingers go with a pop and even making a gesture towards your lips for a taste. 

“please let me cum Lukie”

you albeit whined the words at him, hands still trying to wriggle free. your attention on his face, silently admiring him despite the lack of pleasure he was giving you. 

he leaned in, his lips inches from yours and your breath hitching at his closeness. readying yourself for him to finally kiss you, even get a taste of yourself on his lips before he whispered out teasingly. 

“after that little stunt? you’re not getting off that easy”

and you could admit, he was right. 

you had ignored him for majority of the day, but now he was just being down right unfair. 

you tried to retort but he pressed his thumb teasingly to your clit, drawing firm circles against it and watching your back arch off of the bed. 

“i’ll let you cum when you apologise to me, got it?”

the words took a minute to register properly in your head, but by that time he was walking out the bedroom door. 

he had left you aching for him in bed while he went to lie on the couch, fully aware you’d quickly follow after him to beg him to make you cum. 

and you knew one way of ‘begging’ that would have him giving in and possibly even cumming down your throat if he let you continue on that long. 

⋆˚࿔ reblogs are highly appreciated 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[suffewingowo]

Like an impenetrable curtain the fog hangs in front of me. Lights of oncoming cars fading into view only for them to disappear again as the brights are flicked off.

Even through the all consuming fog, the darkness of the nighttime, I am comforted by some deep, welling, feeling.

I do not fear the creatures of the wilds coming into view and totalling my car. Nor another driver, absent-minded, on their phone swerving into my lane.

As I approach the city, only darkness greets me, until all at once the blue lights of the street lamps are thrust into my vision again.

The shroud of the stars above me is still present, even when they move unseen behind the curtain of fog.

[exopelagic]

okay facing consequences of my actions

[tonycries]

THIS P*SSY DEPRESSED!

Synopsis. Don’t worry, he knows exactly the solution when you’re upset - fúck it out of you, of course!

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

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, FÉRAL GOJO, cheering you up, oraI (fem receiving), breéding, MAJOR overstím, PRAISE, THEY’RE SO DOWN BAD, lowkey sweet, slight exhíbitionism (Toji’s), mean Geto, síxty-nine, chokíng, making Choso cry mhm, spítting, pússy-slappíng, cúmplay, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. You’re loved n’ I hope y’all have a good leak day <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Noise complaint(s)

Any time Toji decided to visit you in your cute lil’ apartment, so did a few complaints from your neighbors. 

It wasn’t because of his intimidating presence, or those deadly glares of his - targeted at everyone but you, or even because of the way his large frame unapologetically blocked every doorway in your building.

No, they were noise complaints. 

“So that’s what’s got my girl so mm- upset?” Toji has the audacity to chuckle - chuckle - so raggedly at that syrupy pout of yours he’s kissing away. “Usually you and this sweet pussy-” He cups a palm at your glistening cunt, smearing your sweet, sweet juices in a glossy sheen down his wrist. “-are so happy to see me, n’ now you want to keep her quiet? All because some blue-balled loser just moved in next door and got jealous overhearing your pretty moans?”

At your nervous nod, he clicks his tongue gruffly, “Makin’ you all upset like this, tch-” Leaning down to whisper, until his sharp canines graze dangerously against your earlobe, “He’s about to find out that he hasn’t heard even half of it.”

“But Toji!” you’re squealing, fingers scrambling to clamp your already-deliriously sagging mouth shut. “I told you- we have to mmpf- be quiet. He seemed so grumpy, and-”

You’re being cut off with Toji nudging the divot of his fat head against your g-spot, until all those complaints are lodged in your quivering chest by a moan. Teasing, “Talking ‘bout another man when m’trynna make you feel better, doll? Bold today, aren’t ya?”

“N-no I was jus-” Barely-audible babbles drag out of you at the heavenly stretch of your pussy lips. Toji’s muscled chest heaves up and down at the way your pussy lips addictively swallow up his leaky cock, slobbering down, down, down his length till it glistened in the dim lighting. Your legs kicking up in the air when he insistently feeds your cunt inch by greedy inch. 

Again. And again and again and so needy. Depraved. 

But it still wasn’t enough for him.

“Aww, come on, woman.” He’s rolling his eyes, that tiny scar curling up in a devilish grin when he pries away the hand on your mouth. “Why’re you lyin’ to yourself like this? I know you wanna heh- scream my name as much as this cute cunt of yours is right now. Do it.”

As if to confirm his point, Toji’s pushing apart your puffy folds to let your gaping pussy squelch! even louder at each of his bullying thrusts. Tight ring of muscle taking each and every smack of his sharp hip bones so well, the riotous creaking of your bed following shortly, headboard just slamming into your poor wall despite being bolted onto it.

It was already so loud. 

“I don’t hngh-” you let out a feverish gasp when each roll of his hypnotic cadence gets too much. “I don’t wanna give off a b-bad impression…I just want the neighbors to like me.”

Heart clenching in his chest at how cute you are, how sorry your voice sounds, he finds his irritation flaring once again at whoever this bastard was that had you doubting yourself this way.

“Doll– they’d be fuckin’ stupid not to. And I’d beat their asses, too.” Two soft pads of his fingers come to smush your cheeks together, forcing you to stare up into his darkened emerald eyes. “But my poor baby’s still ngh- upset, no?” When you’re hesitant with your answer, they slide down to your neck - just barely putting a bit of leering pressure, “Answer me while m’still being nice, doll.”

It’s all you can do to choke out a shrill, “Yes.” He can feel your walls clenching around every ridge and prominent vein down his shaft so tight with every sultry, mewled-out word. “H-he was really sweet! But it made me- a bit- jus’ a bit.”

“See?” And Toji sounds so smug, predatory tone bleeding into the way his harsh rams pick up to an obscene speed. A thumb of his dips down to swivel over your neglected clit, wrenching out those candied moans he loves so much. “Nothin’ wrong with makin’ my girl feel better after a shitty experience. N’ if anyone has anything to s-say, they can come complain to hngh- me.”

“B-but-”

“Ah ah-” Toji kisses sloppily at your lips trying to press together and quieten, sucking on your lower lip. “What did I say just now? Loud, pretty girl.” 

And it’s like a dam breaks open right then and there, you’re arching your body off the bed like such a slut to press your bare tits against Toji’s pecs. Sensitive. Faster. “Toji- oh fuck, m’so-”

“Heh, louder. I don’t hear you losing your beautiful voice yet.”

Keening, “M’so close. Fuck- g-gonna cum all over your cock.”

He’s cupping his ear so mockingly, hips still stuttering and thrusting forwards without a moments’ faltering. “Still can’t hear you, m-ah not gonna let you cum if you’re not loud enough, y’know.”

You were sure your sinful noises were traveling through the heavy, plastered wall now. Picking up in pitch and speed with every double-attack on your sweet spots everywhere. Spearing the lewd curve of his dick into you, he’s fucking you into the mattress so mean - meaner that usual. Rugged muscles of his toned waist flexing when he jostles and thrusts unforgivingly. Your voice is hoarse at this point, “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck Toji m’cumming. I’m-”

Every other loud moan is drowned out by the ringing in your ears, Toji’s own soft rasps filtering through the white-hot pleasure running down your spine. 

He’s fucking you through wave after wave of high, gifting your bruised g-spot with a thorough, sly pistons of his still-swollen cock. Something that didn’t bode well for you, you already knew. 

“Tha’s it. Yeahh, that’s it-” A hand cups the back of your head gently, even though his slamming staccato was anything but. “Loud. Jus’ like that- shit, gonna make him jealous. Have him regret makin’ my girl upset, fuck-” An irritated banging sounds from the other side of the wall right above your headboard - your neighbor. “Fuck, just watch I’ll give him a real show.” Still throwing jagged hips your way, ram after ram. “What’s the fucker’s name again?”

“He- he said his name was Shiu.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Sweet, sweet treat

“I can fix it.” your husband eyed that droopy bowl of frosting and back to your candied, icing-glossed pout. He can’t help but plant a sweet, sweltering kiss on them, just groaning out, “We can do it together.” Barely managing to break away and breathe out, “S’gonna- turn out- perfect, my love.”

Which is how you find yourself splayed out so shamefully on the cool granite countertops of your kitchen, your soft cotton dress only pulled lazily to the side. Nanami’s knees seated firmly on the hardwood floors, face tucked in between the heavenly sweet folds of your already soaked cunt. 

“Oh- oh fuck, Ken–” he makes you let out a honeyed drawl with every drag of his hot tongue up and down your soppingly wet slit. “Y-you’re gonna get the- ngh- counter dirty!”

So what? He thinks, and it only takes a flicker of surprise in your half-lidded eyes for him to realize he accidentally said that out loud. Not used to those uncharacteristically brash sentences, but Nanami was so drunk off your addictive juices right now. 

Tipping his head back, back, back to let them make their slow, sultry journey down his throat. He’s slurring out proudly, “I’ll clean the mess after I cheer up my upset lil’ wife, okay?”

With this, he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Adding to the glistening gloss that traveled down your folds - and Nanami couldn’t help himself but kiss at the mess he’s made. Over and over and-

“F-fuuuck, jus’ like that-” You’re keening when he’s alternating between hollowing his cheeks out with methodical, never-ending sucks on your sensitive clit and just peeking inside your needy hole with his tongue. “You’re too good with your hngh! -tongue, Ken–”

It’s impossible to run away - and he knew that, too. Every little inch you backed on the counter had him just dragging you back twice as much. Hot tongue clashing and angry to part your swollen pussy lips. 

You can only thread your fingers through his neat blond hair even tighter when he surges back forward. Pussydrunk. Groaning at the lewd smack of his tongue dipping in and out of your puffy folds, Thumb circling around your throbbing clit, “And you’re too sweet, darling. Even sweeter than-” He pools your slick on two thick fingers of his, coating a glossy sheen of obscenity all the way from his rounded tips to the gold wedding ring glinting in the dim light. Before popping them in his mouth to take such long, cleansing drags without even a shred of abashed hesitation, “-that icing of yours.”

“I know–” you’re babbling in disappointment, the full force of your failed attempts at baking something special earlier this evening hitting you once again at full force. “Ugh, what a waste. I can’t even-”

A syrupy beat passes. One. Two. 

And at that very moment, you’re feeling the maddening stretching of your gummy walls being forced to their very limits. Whirling your dazed gaze down to spot that Nanami was now standing, belt unbuckled, tugged down just enough that you were reeling from the pressure of his fat head just barely kissing past your fluttering hole. 

“That’s my wife you’re talkin’ about.” he growls, low and satiny. Hands steadying on the two sides of your trembling thighs, his grunts catch in his throat when he thoroughly sinks his swollen length in. Never-ending, dizzying. A quick frosting-coated glide of Nanami’s fingers on your lips, and he’s pressing another lingering kiss on your slack mouth. Tasting you and the sweet icing and you, “And I don’t let anyone talk about her that way, my love.”

Now, usually, Nanami was a man of patience - liking to prepare and play around with your pretty pussy as if you were his favorite toy. Molding your plush walls like clay to take his massive cock.

But now, oh now Nanami Kento was anything but patient. Shit, he didn’t even know if your snug walls could take him right now. 

Hands curling up into painful fists far away from the curve of your hips, as if he was trying to stop himself from just grabbing your quivering body and just slamming himself inside you until he reached your lungs, your heart, that stupid brain of yours that loved to overthink.

“Don’t you ever fuckin’ say anything bad about my wife. You’re perfect.” he breathes, greedy hazel eyes looking like they could devour you whole. “The frosting is perfect, the anniversary cake is perfect, your smile, your mind, you-” You’re being attacked by a flurry of kisses being gifted on every inch of your face that could be reached, “You you you- I love you.”

If you were in the right state of mind, you’d have responded back in a heartbeat. But right now, he’s not waiting a split-second longer before bullying the rest of his swollen, filthy cock in. Solid inches being shoved inside to force your walls to accommodate, stretching out so maddeningly across every divot and upwards curve down his shaft.

In and out in and out in and-

Your nails tear across his favorite blue button-up, down his muscled shoulders, down to that speckled yellow tie you’d gotten him a few years ago. 

“You’re so- hngh-” you squeal, tugging Nanami closer by his tie. Making him bully past your narrow opening even deeper, slick walls squeezing so tight at how his weepy red tip presses right on top of your g-spot. 

He chuckles, it’s so endearing how you’re already too cockdrunk to speak. One engulfing hand on your shoulder is all it takes for you to be sprawled back on the cool counter. Nanami’s pummeling cock bullying so deep inside your hot core it’s the only thing you can think about - nothing but him. 

“How about, after-” Another dredge of sweet sweet frosting is dabbed along your lips, your heated skin. All for Nanami to lick sultrily, “-we’ll make the cake together, hm?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Just use me, baby.”

Those shallow, sultry words are falling from Choso’s rosy lips before he even realizes it - ringing like sheer melodies over the heady smacking of skin-on-skin where he’s bullying his fat cock into you. 

After a few seconds of his sloppy, stuttering rams sending the gooey puddle of cum and slick spreading further and further on the sticky, silken sheets below you - the words finally register. 

“Use you, baby?” you purr, batting your lashes in a way that has him gulping. Feeling his aching shaft twitch against your gummy walls, swollen balls squeezing so so angrily with how much seed he’d been gushing out tonight. “You want me to use you?”

Each thrust of his is lingering, rolling forwards to push you further and further up that pooling mess. He can’t think, he can’t even breathe. And it takes everything in Choso to groan out, “Yes yes- fuck, please.” You’re feeling him place a trail of wet kisses up to the nape of your neck, big tears clinging to his dark lashes, “If my- hngh- if my girl is upset, I want her to use me. Ruin me till she forgets all about it.”

It only takes a split-second for you to immediately flip around your positions, pinning a whiny, pliant Choso so harshly down onto the plush mattress. 

“Hngh- oh, baby—” He bounces slightly at the sheer force. Dewy eyes rolling to the back of his head at the slobbering sheen of cum dripping down his long, long length. Bucking up his quivering hips till you’re speared all the way down on his cock, clit hitting the tufts of black at his thick hilt. “Fuuuck—.” He’s groaning raggedly, like a mantra, two big arms tugging your body stuck to his sculpted front. Nodding half-lucidly, “Yeah- yeah just like that. Whatever you want with me.”

Your pace was unforgiving - barely even giving him a moment to spew out those pussydrunk promises before rocking your hips up and down up and-

“Use you, huh?” you echo back his own words, the sheer need dripping in them having Choso bow his body upwards to pummel into you in a matching feverish pace. You’re humming, thinking back to those stupid pick-up lines the creepy new manager at work had snided just today. It was harmless, but oh how Choso would kill him if he knew. “Well then, don’t mind if I do.”

With a pained keen, he’s surging upwards onto his elbows, craning his head to mesh your honeyed lips with his. “Mmm- mpfh yeah, exactly like this.” Mixing out such throaty groans with your gasps, so desperate to please you with the way he plants two feet on the bed, thrusting up hazily to find your sweet spots, “S’this any better? How do you- ngh how do you feel, baby?”

You’re letting out a drunken giggle with how he’s the one asking - when really it should be you. Because your sweet boyfriend looked so ruined, eyes wrecked with tears. Milky skin a canvas for possessive red marks from your nails. Kiss-bitten lips spit-glossed and permanently parted in ecstasy, only slacking further every time your snug channel dragged down him. 

“Much better, forgot about m’day already.” you’re hissing into his open mouth. “So fuckin’ gorgeous n’ mine, that bastard doesn’t know what the fuck he’s ah- talking about.”

Choso had no idea what you were talking about - though, he thinks his mind is too much of a hot, gooey mess to understand right now. Still so needy to please. Only being able to babble out a stupid, “Yours- fuck m’yours.”

And despite being the one setting the tempo, you can only let out such whiny groans at the sheer stretch Choso’s swollen cock is causing you. By the way he’s molding your gummy walls to each and every throbbing vein decorating down him.

“Sh-shit m’so close, baby.” he whines, a fresh wave of tears streaming down with each overstimulating smack! of his tight, overworked balls against the curve of your ass. Lazily, like he’s moving through molasses, Choso’s drawing messy patterns on your pulsing clit - not even circles, brain too fried to. “M’so close fuck- I need you to- I need-”

“Shhh shhh.” you coo, running a hand through his dark strands, damp with sweat. “Cum f’me, Cho~”

“Hngh!” He can’t stop his hips from bucking up ferally, crying out, “But- I can’t. Wan’ you to feel better. Need you to cum f’me. Use me-”

“Cho.”

“Please-”

“Choso.” you warn, narrowing your eyes, deciding to tease him a little with shallow, repetitive grinds of your hips up and down. Toes curling at the friction of his creamy seed sloshing around inside. “Cum.”

“Hngh- but-” he’s thrashing upwards, so addicted to the rough collision of your sensitive spots against his fat head. Pulling out such fucked-out moans from you already, “But m’spposed to be making you feel happy-”

Your fingers deftly find themselves on Choso’s temping throat, right above his racing pulse. You tighten your nails just enough to leave five matching crescents to match the rest of his marked-up body.

“Cho–” you puff in a sultry groan against his ear. “All I want is for you to fill me up right now.”

And then he’s spilling into you in thick, hot dredge after dredge of his potent seed - before you’ve even finished your sentence. It overfills your pre-painted cunt, that obscene white slopping out of your slit and onto where your hips rocked against your boyfriend’s even harder. A creamy white ring forming mouthwateringly. Relentlessly. 

“See?” Choso couldn’t - vision blurry, ears stuffed with cotton. “I don’t care what any sleazy manager has to say, you’re perfect for me.” A gentle kiss is placed on his pouty, worried lips and shit you still didn’t show any signs of slowing down, overstimulating him to tears. You trace his furious marks, “N’ pick me up from work tomorrow in your skimpiest muscle tee~”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Overtime?

A lewd smack! is all that’s ringing in your ears right now, so loud over the distant hum of the photocopier. Accompanied shortly by Geto’s sing-song rasp of, “Heh, missin’ our reservation for this- Are you the one havin’ a bad day or am I?”

Before you can answer, you’re being gifted with another mean kiss of your boyfriend’s palm against your bulging pussy. Smack! Lingering on the nudge of where he could feel your sloppy hole mending around his girthy shaft, before dancing upwards to grip your hair in a sultry hold. 

Pulling your entire weight up, up, up like he didn’t care about the way he was treating you like some ragdoll right now. Up to drag his lips towards your ear, “Doesn’t matter, because m’still fuckin’ you just the same.”

“S-Sugu–” your breaths crack with need when he’s pushing in a harsh thrust to slam back into the very bottom of your poor pussy. Eyes darting to the tiny window of your office photocopy room, “Sugu, we’re going to get caught.”

“And yet, she’s still hah- sucking me up as sluttily as ever.” he grins, tilting his head back to get those long, inky strands out of his face. He chuckles at the obscene sight of your cunt stretched to her limits, struggling, and drooling a sweet, sweet gloss down his length. “What’s with the ngh- attitude now? You said you wanted to feel better about working overtime so here we are.”

You bite down on your lower lip to hold back your moans when his fat tip draws a solid, straight line across your bruised cervix. Slamming forwards to have you scrambling forwards into some more important paperwork you really should be looking over right now. 

“I did but-”

“Problem solved then.” Geto lets out a low whistle, sounding so utterly smug when he pulls your hips deeper into his. “Now let me make this shitty workload hah- so much better for you, gorgeous.”

Honestly, when you told your dear boyfriend that you’d have to cancel tonight’s date because of a sudden deadline for tomorrow, you felt guilty. Working after everyone else had left, spewing out upset little apologies until he told you he’d come over to the office to “help you take your mind off of things.”

You just didn’t expect it’d end up like this. 

Smack!

Geto scoffs, “Aww documents have you zoning out on me again, pretty girl? Take a break, didn’t I tell ya you don’t have to worry about work and all those stupid things when you’re with me?”

Your knees weaken involuntarily when his gruff question is followed by such an unapologetic crash into your ravaged g-spot. Thankfully being held up by one of Geto’s strong arms to fuck yourself back all the way from his red, weepy tip to that see-through ring dredged up on his thick base. Somehow, you’re managing to gasp out, “N-no, I was just…”

“N-n-no, you were just zoning out, that’s what.” he’s mocking your answer in an overly-dramatic higher pitch, adding a few extra moans you were spilling with every harsh slam after slam of his hips. “What did I tell you now, relax. Let me fuck this shitty overtime and that shitty boss outta ya cute lil’ head, gorgeous. You and her-” His red-rimmed eyes, drunk on the feeling of your slicked walls enveloping him, lock on the sight of his curved dick disappearing so easily in and out of you. “-don’t have to worry about a thing right now.”

It was that same little promise - the one he’d whispered over and over into your sagging open mouth when he’d first ambushed you in the photocopy room. Bending you over the nearest flat surface before ramming into you all those thick, greedy inches of his long-needy cock.

And here he still was. 

Splatters of your syrupy slick coats his toned pelvis with every jagged thrust, fucking you so deep - so disrespectfully - into the office desk. Your feet don’t even touch the ground now, mind spinning and syrupy. Geto’s bending his own to angle up exactly to hit the bullseye of your sweet spots. All those familiarly mapped-out areas to drive anything and everything out of your mind but him and the temptation for more more more-

Click!

Both of you are raising your heads in sync at the distinct clamor of an opening door somewhere in the office - shit, was someone doing patrols at this time?

Your jaw drops open in shock - and the feeling of your boyfriend sliding two slender fingers to your pulsing clit. Drawing rough, skimming circles on the bundle of nerves. He has you jolting and arching your back right into him, his arms - exactly where he loved to have you. 

“Now we’re-” your words come in strangled little stutters, mindlessly bouncing your ass back onto his cock. Feeling the sinful tremors run down your spine with each slam, “-we’re really gonna get hah- caught. And I’m not even halfway through my project yet.”

And Geto - that smug bastard - sounds amused. He thinks he’ll have a ah- talk with your boss later about piling on workloads later. But for now, he sounds so fucking content when he’s musing, “Better cum fast before they give you more than overtime, pretty girl.” Before planting a deceivingly chaste peck on your lips, “Though, I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to havin’ a cute lil’ housewife to spoil all day either.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - QUIET TIME!

“Oh, Kuna–”

“Now that’s music to my ears.” Sukuna smirks darkly, lips searing in a trail right down your arched spine. Two inhumanly large hands massage down your back, pulling you against his sculpted front. “So much better to hear you say m’name than complain about some fuckin’ eugh-” His tone trembles in distaste, “-office drama.”

Scoffing, “No need to be so mean, Kuna. You really should’ve heard what Mrs. Smith down at-”

That little tangent earns you a sharp smack! to the fat of your bare ass, cupping the little tremors with a chuckle. He hums with a mocking lilt in his baritone voice, “You’re testing my patience~” Sukuna goes back to kneading at the stressed knots in your body. “Shut up and let me massage you, woman.”

And oh you should’ve learned your lesson - should’ve taken this rare, sweet little moment you’d gotten from your rough boyfriend. Should’ve done anything other than huff out, “Ugh, if only you’d heard what she said, ruined my whole-”

“Lift your hips.”

Your eyes widen at the sudden interruption, “Wh-what?”

“Lift your hips goddammit.”

It’s all you can do to mindlessly head his gruffed out words, legs stuttering and shaky when you get up on all fours. A gasp rips from your throat when Sukuna shuffles into the gap between your pliant body and the silken bedsheets. Not stopping until his hot breath was puffing against your sopping slit, your eyes mere inches away from his massive erection. Throbbing thickly and outlined with precum through his boxers. 

Your mouth waters, “K-Kuna what-”

“So it really takes this to get me back on your mind, huh, brat?” he’s cutting you off with another branding smack on your ass - this time, the very rounded tips of his thick fingers just grazing against your dripping folds. “Couldn’t stop talkin’ about some fuckin’ Mrs. Smith even when I’m right here.”

“Are you jealous?” you muse, brows turning upwards in confusion. “Because I can assure you-”

Before you can run your mouth again, Sukuna’s cutting you off with one hand reaching down to wrap around your throat. The other pulls your shaky hips down to sit on his face. 

“How’s this for jealous?” He grunts, an obscene slurping noise pouring into your hazy bedroom, eyes rolling to the back of his head at this messy kiss with your needy cunt. “Gonna make you forget about those shitty people. Just focus on me.”

You’re managing to wrangle your greedy gaze over your shoulder to spy his lewdly wet smirk, glistening down with a glossed cover of your slick. They’re so pretty, so kiss-bruised in your favorite shade of pink when they wrap around your throbbing cunt to give a harsh suck. “What? Got a problem, woman?”

You wine softly in protest, your lower lip jutting out in a pout that makes his clothed cock just coat down his fat tip with syrupy precum. Opening your mouth to retort and-

In all of two seconds, Sukuna’s hand snug around your throat drops down to tug on his boxers. Tall, angry erection hitting your parted lips with a soft thwack! It doesn’t stay there for long - no, because you feel that familiar pressure back on your throat again, and his achy cock being bullied down, down, down your throat. 

“Actually, don’t answer that.” he’s letting out a strained groan, sanity dancing away with every clench of your tight throat around his glistening shaft. Holding you still with the hand on your throat, Sukuna’s powerful thigh muscles strain when he’s fucking up into your heavenly mouth slow, sultry. Spitting to coat him in all your sweet saliva, “Consider this quiet time, just shut up and take my cock.”

Your eyes are watering, Sukuna’s girth rubbing against every part of your plushy mouth. Swirling a pool of salty precum on your tongue. You can’t do anything but keen brokenly around that warm weight when long, thick fingers are spreading your puffy folds to wrangle his long tongue in deeper. Textures of his tastebuds grazing over and over against your spongy entrance - your clit. 

“Hngh- mmpf-” you’re jutting your hips traitorously. Dragging your slobbering pussy up and down his thorough lips, giving longing, drunken licks up from your weepy base to your hot clit. “Kuna-”

He breaks away with a sinful smack! Your sensitive bud being tugged along with snapping strings of delicate precum and slick.

“Mhm, that’s what I like-” he’s slurring out words mixing together with need. Free hand coming down to toy your clit between two rolling fingers. And you could tell how much he liked this, fat shaft twitching animalistically inside your mouth. Nudging his leaking head at the back of your throat, it’s only with how long you’ve been with Sukuna that you manage not to gag. “-to have you shut up on my cock this way. That pretty mouth is better used for something other than rememberin’ some shitty people when you’re with me. They can fuck right off with the disrespect towards my woman.”

It’s all you can do to keep your jaw slacking further and further with every dragged-out smack of Sukuna’s heavy balls against your face. His hips using you like some glorified cocksleeve, ruthless in his pace. Molding your mouth to the shape of him while he does the very same with yours.

“F-fuuuck-” you manage to gasp out through the drooling edges of your lips. “It feels so- ngh–” Moans getting lost when Sukuna flicks your throbbing clit slowly, nudging with the very tip of his dark fingernails. “You’re being so-”

“So loud.” he finishes your own sentence for you. Grinning a grin that sends shivers up your spine, right to where he was stuffing your mouth shut with all long inches of his cock. Murmuring dangerously around your sloppy hole, “Interrupt quiet time again and you don’t get to cum, brat.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Unmistakably depraved.

“Fuuuuck, sweetheart.” Gojo’s whispering, over and over. As if he can’t - won’t - manage to articulate anything else right now. The honeyed words wrenching out of him with each sticky crash of his shaft down your sloppy slit in this firm mating press. “Do you know how hngh- long I’ve missed this sweet cunt?”

You don’t have to answer, and the echoing smack! of his too-sensitive balls against the curve of your ass is enough of one for him. Making his eyes gleam with such a feral glint, traveling straight to where he was pressing in bullying little grinds past your clamping walls. 

It’s been so long - too long - about a whole week since your pussy-whipped boyfriend was able to have his fill of you.

A soft pad of his thumb rolls in a  languid circle over your needy clit. Sending white-hot shockwaves that have you jolting the balls of your feet to greedily swallow up even more throbbing inches of him. 

“Fuck, forgot how tight you s-squeeze me when I do that.” Gojo eyes dance to the back of his head with every bottom-out hit against your clingy mess of a cunt. Crashing so messily onto every velvety inch of your cunt. It only takes a few drags of your slobbering walls down his length for your dear boyfriend to run his mouth, “Forgot allll about this because of some- hngh- some mournng for a fucking fictional character-”

“My favorite character, Toru!” you exclaim, through furrowed brows. Both of you are shocked at the fact that you’re still managing to speak in coherent sentences - just means he hasn’t fucked you good enough yet, he muses with his syrupy, pussydrunk mind. “He was my- my favorite and he died and-”

You’re immediately being shut up by two sweet lips planting on your own, immediately moving to suck on your tongue so filthily. “Well, I’m your favorite boyfriend-” Your only, but semantics. Gojo whines - whines, “Shouldn’t I- hngh- be more important?”

As if to help you make your decision, he’s burrowing his cock in such needy thrusts. And Gojo can’t help but crane his neck to bite down on your frantically racing pulse, feeling himself salivate with how well you’re milking each and every single vexing ram of his hips. Just spearing the hotly saturated tip into your spongy g-spots, so fucking big that every stroke feels like a brush against your throat, an indent into the plush walls of your pussy, wrapping and molded around his girth. 

Another bite to your neck at your silence - sharp canines just shy of drawing blood. And you swear Gojo’s eyes spark with an unnatural lightning blue when he devours you with a greedy stare, “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“You a-are.” Is all you can gasp out, but that’s not enough for the great Gojo Satoru. You’re instantly earning a rosy pout and a loaded smack! right on the bullseye of your glistening clit, faintly you think you hear the crackle of jujutsu. Thighs burning at the sheer stretch of being folded down, down, down until your knees knocked against your tits. “You’re more- hah! Fuck fuck fuck don’t– you’re more important!”

This seems to soothe your jealous boyfriend a bit, but it still doesn’t stop him from placing such brutal thrusts on your poor, ravaged pussy. Bruising. Sloppy. 

You’re whining so brokenly, “Fuck, right there- feels too good- hngh!”

“Mhm, exactly what I thought.” Another explosive slap to your sensitive nub, humming with power, and Gojo throws his head back at how much it makes you gush so wetly around his thick hilt. “Now, was that- ngh- was that so hard?” Spitting out little profanities into your lips, as if the man he was jealous over wasn’t a few pixels, “The f-fucker- Had to wait a whole week before I got to comfort my sad girl? I’d kill him myself.”

You can’t even formulate a response to that - not even if you wanted to. Because with increasingly sloppy drags of his cock against your walls, Gojo only grows more and more heated. 

“Fuck- makin’ my girl so upset. Gonna fuck all thoughts outta him for ya.” Babbling out little curses a mile a minute, swift pace bruising your spring cervix, your g-spot. A thin trickle of drool trails messily in-between your clashing kisses, only growing every time he’s ramming into your gripping cunt. “Gonna make you cum- make you mine.” Difficult, even with how you were clinging onto his every rough, angled thrust, and you don’t think Gojo even realizes the possessive little spanks he’s repeatedly leaving on your puffy clit. “Won’t you cum like a good girl f’me, sweetheart?”

He’s moaning at the sloppy way you listen to his ragged plea, letting out such pretty moans into the heady air when you fall back into your high. Toes curling, jolts of needy pleasure running down your spine, such a mess. 

It makes Gojo falter in his tempo, it makes the sharp bones on his toned hips slam into you even harder, stuttering and rutting forwards like some animal in heat that can’t bear to do anything but be buried well inside you. It makes him cum. 

“Oh- fuck, Toru s’in so deep.” You mewl, too cockdrunk to say anything else. To feel anything but the slow, sultry filling of your quivering cunt. Rope after rope of his hot cum painting the mess of your branded walls inside, and each time he’s fucking his cum even deeper you feel a lewd whimper of his name leave you. Vision tinging with need, with the feeling of being so overfilled you could barely breathe. “Oh- oh my god I feel it coming-”

Your words hitch in your throat when Gojo - cock still angry and twitching with faint wisps of trickling cum - plugs a slender finger into your bulging cunt. Stopping the overflow, the grins, “Hope you’re on the pill, my girl, because we’re not done until you forget.”

A/N. Ouu y’all should’ve seen the way I was CACKLING writing Toji’s ending.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[kbwrites]

“Who did this to you?” A deep voice echoes, vibrating around the walls of the throne room. On the opulent throne sits the owner of the baritone voice — Ryomen Sukuna. The king of curses, resting his head on his arm as he looks down at you, too scared to look up from your feet.

“I don’t like repeating myself.” He warns, your body hasn’t ceased shaking. Your uniform is tattered, the rips in the fabric revealing deep purple bruises. Uraume was the one that found you, unconscious in the butlers pantry. After waking you up they brought you to the throne room. So there you were, kneeling at the feet of your king.

You arrived to the estate a year ago, your life as a servant was agreeable. Lord Sukuna treated all his servants well. You were loyal, efficient and pleasant to look at, it was only a matter of time before he started to notice you.

At first he requested you be the one to serve him breakfast. Then it became lunch, and suddenly you tended to all his meals. He demanded you for everything, his bathing, dressing. He could do all of these things himself of course, but he prefered your gentle hands. His personal attendant, not even Uraume, had seen the king of curses at his most vulnerable... but you had bared witness to all of him.

“Fine, if you won’t tell me who. Then why?” Ryomen slowly rises from his throne, his looming figure towering over your kneeling body. He lowers himself to your level, one hand reaches down to lift your chin. Firm yet gentle he forces you to look up at him, your eyes meeting his red ones. Your once flawless skin is covered in bruises. His eyes darken.

“They t-think you favor me.” Is all you can manage to get out.

Word spreads around the estate of course. And plus Sukuna didn’t exactly hide his preference for you. You didn’t sleep with the rest of the help, you were given a room connected to his. ‘In case he requested your presence in the night’ but the reality was he slept better knowing you were near. You didn’t eat the servant food, you dined in the great hall. At a separate table he had made for you. All of these things on full display for the others to see, it wasn’t long before the insults started. At first it was the odd ‘slut’ or ‘whore’ being mumbled in passing. Then an accidental shove into the wall, always followed by a curt “sorry”.

But today? It was your birthday. You had only mentioned it to Ryomen in passing one day at breakfast. He never understood the need for such a useless celebration. You went about your duties for the day, when Uraume found you and handed you a small box. And there on display for everyone to see, a beautiful beaded bracelet made from polished cherry wood. A token of appreciation ‘for your hard work’.

A gift from the king of curses.

“What’s so great about you anyway?”

“Lord Sukuna’s bed-warmer gets everything she wants!”

They punched and kicked, throwing you into the pantry. The group of servants you once thought of as your family. Clouded by jealousy, hatred towards you — the lord’s favorite.

Ryomen Sukuna, the epitome of ruthlessness and malevolence, softens his gaze. He looks upon your trembling form with… pity? His moment of weakness is replaced by an unreadable expression.

“You have been relieved of your servant duties. You will stay here in my quarters from here on out.” It’s a demand, leaving no room for objection. Your eyes well up with tears looking up at your king, his other hand wipes them away. He rises, walking towards the door, his back facing you.

“Get up. Uraume will tend to your injuries. Once you are well, we will visit the servant’s quarters. You will point out those who laid their filthy hands on you, and I will kill them.”

part 2 out now!!

[s0dium]

Creep

Warnings: Creepy/stalker behavior, breeding kink, pussydrunk behavior, cumflation, stomach bulge, subspace, premature ejaculation, orgasms

~

You know it's wrong, so wrong to enjoy the attention of a creep.

At least, that's what people call him. But through the snickers and sidelong glances that surround him, there's something about him that intrigues you, attracts you, something you can't seem to get out of your head.

It starts off small, letting him eye you from across the room and flashing him a small smile. Then you notice he starts to get bolder, more confident in his advances. As the days pass, his presence becomes a constant in your routine. He waits for you after class, catches you alone in elevators, leans in closer during conversations, and even starts to find excuses to touch your arm or shoulder. Each interaction feels like a challenge, a test of boundaries that seems he's all too willing to push.

In the beginning, you almost listen to the unease flickering in the back of your mind, warning that maybe you are playing with fire. But as the tension builds, you find your resolve slowly melting, small touches on your arm turn grazes against your ass and the quick glances evolve into him blatantly checking you out.

So only you can be blamed for the situation you're in right now. Only you can be blamed for letting it get like this.

His hips snapped so fast you can't think, you can breathe. Pleasure courses through your body in electric flesh arrows and you could feel your pussy clench around his length in a futile attempt to adjust for his massive size. How could a creep like him be so big? Jesus, you could feel his mushroom tip press against your cervix every time he slammed into you. Countless loads of cum dripped from where you two were connected onto the white sheets below. At any given time he'd blow his load right into you and without much of a stutter fuck the liquid back into you, until he reached his high again and started the cycle over again.

"Mine," he grunts out, his breath hot against your cheek from the brutal mating press he has you in. The bed shook with every thrust, the head board banging against the wall from the way your cervix was getting absolutely abused. The friction, the way he filled you up so perfectly, his hot skin against yours, it was too much, too overwhelming, and your brain couldn't handle the pleasure. You could feel the euphoria absorb your body, making your toes curl and uncurl from the sheer pleasure.

"G-gonna cum in you again" He says through a moan, peppering kissed along your jaw. "Gonna fill you up, make you feel so so good." He doesn’t slow his movement, instead picking up one of your legs and throwing it over his shoulder so he can reach even deeper. He places his other hand on your belly, rubbing your skin with his thumb.

"You feel me?" He coos, pressing down on your stomach, intensifying the pressure of his cock inside you and making your moans grow even louder.

"I can feel you, I can feel you squeezing me, feel so good, better than my fist." He chuckles and grabs your throat, squeezing it so your brain goes fuzzy with the slight light of oxygen.

His breathing becomes jagged and with a soft whimper followed by a silent "oh-fu", he blows his load into your battered pussy. There is no warning when cums into you, only the slight stutter of his hips that does nothing to deter his brutal pace. You are soaked down there, his sticky cum leaking out of you as he pushes into you over and over again. But you couldn't be bothered to look right now, you couldn’t open your eyes and ignore the colors you were seeing behind your eyelids. Everything was good - so, so, so good. Your skin was buzzing, mind cloudy, and the only thing you could focus on was the throbbing that was taking over your body.

"You gonna cum?" He coos into your ear, punctuating his words with an extra sharp thrust. "Cum for me, please." 

As if on cue, you gasp, and let your orgasm wash over you. He doesn't stop his movements, instead, he fucks you through your orgasm until your crying for him to stop.

"Not gonna stop, gonna fuck you until m' shooting blanks okay?"

SHIGARAKI, YUUTA OKKATSU, L LAWLIET, SHINSO, KENMA, GYUTARO