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ayumigotabittoolonely · 2 days ago

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Baby you are the baddest

Baby you are the baddest, baby you are the baddest girl

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼 :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒚 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎. 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒆, 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒆 u 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆? 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓.

Characters - nanami kento , gojo Satoru and Suguru geto

Warning ⚠️ : contains suggestive smut, sexual content!

Gojo Satoru

Jujutsu Tech was hosting a huge party for all the students and teachers, and as one of the teachers, you were excited at least, you tried to be. You had asked Gojo to accompany you, but he refused, saying he was the organizer and had things to handle. So, you arrived alone.

You were wearing

Beautiful Right? Right??

But the moment you stepped in, something felt off. The room was filled with stunning people your coworkers looking absolutely amazing, dressed to impress. You knew you were beautiful, you reminded yourself over and over, but tonight… you just weren’t feeling it.

Then you saw her.

Gojo’s ex.

She was wearing blue too, but hers was a deeper, richer shade. Her dress was shorter, hugging her figure in all the right places. She looked effortlessly stunning, drawing attention from every corner of the room. Compliments flooded her way, and with each one, your confidence sank a little more.

Before you could spiral any further, a loud voice echoed through the room.

"ATTENTION!"

Gojo.

He cleared his throat, a smug grin already forming. Then, as expected, he started the program with one of his signature flirty lines something smooth, playful, the kind of thing he always did. Normally, you’d just roll your eyes, maybe even laugh.

But tonight?

Tonight, it just made you feel worse.

Everyone clapped, the room filled with cheers and applause. Lost in your thoughts, you barely reacted until Utahime lightly smacked your arm, snapping you out of it.

“Come on, at least pretend to enjoy yourself,” she muttered.

You let out an awkward snort, forcing a small laugh as you clapped along with the crowd. But no matter how much you tried to play along, that sinking feeling in your chest just wouldn’t go away.

His eyes scanned the crowd as he spoke, but the moment they landed on you his breath hitched.

For a second, his mind went completely blank.

Why the hell were you looking like that in front of them? Dressed so beautifully, so effortlessly stunning, yet standing there with an unsure look on your face? It made his chest tighten in ways he didn’t expect.

And the worst part? He was the one organizing this damn event meaning he couldn’t just walk over to you, couldn’t pull you aside, couldn’t do a damn thing about the way you were making his head spin.

Frustrating. Absolutely frustrating.

With every passing second, the insecurity crept in deeper. No matter how much you tried to shake it off, the feeling only got worse.

Then, between the chatters and musics, you heard a voice that made your stomach drop.

"Satoru was definitely checking me out. He still thinks about me. Maybe I can get him back." His ex..

Absolutely not. What the fuck?

"Hell nah, he has a girlfriend," her friend scoffed.

But she just waved it off, laughing dramatically before saying something that hit you like a punch to the gut.

"That girl? Yeah, she looks good, but be real would you pick a cute girl with a basic look or someone hotter?"

Her friend chuckled, brushing it off like it was nothing. But you?

You stood there, frozen.

And for the first time tonight, a terrible thought crossed your mind.

Maybe… just maybe… she was right.

You couldn’t do this. Not tonight. Not anymore.

Your chest felt tight, your hands clenched at your sides as those words replayed in your head over and over again. Would you pick a cute girl with a basic look or someone hotter?

Maybe… maybe she was right. Maybe Satoru deserved someone better. Someone who could match his energy, his confidence someone who wouldn’t feel small next to him.

Your vision blurred slightly as you turned on your heel.

Hell nah, you were not staying here any longer.

Maybe you'd even

No. The thought hurt too much to finish.

But a small, painful voice in your head whispered anyway.

Maybe you should break up with him.

Gojo was stress-eating sweets.

He had been trying really trying to get you off his mind, but it wasn’t working. Every time he glanced in your direction, he felt that same frustration bubbling up again. Why the hell did you have to look so good tonight? And why did you look so sad?

He hadn’t even noticed his ex in the crowd. Didn’t care, didn’t want to care. As far as he was concerned, she didn’t exist.

He took a deep breath, ready to continue his speech, when something caught his eye you.

You were leaving.

His heart lurched. And were you… wiping tears?

His stomach twisted, but on the outside, he kept his usual grin. Flashing a charming smile to the crowd, he smoothly passed the mic to Geto without missing a beat.

Then, without hesitation, he followed you.

You walked outside, tears streaming down your face as you tried to steady your breathing. Your chest ached, and no matter how hard you tried to push the thoughts away, they just wouldn’t leave.

Before you could take another step, you heard hurried footsteps behind you.

“Oi—”

Gojo caught up to you in an instant, his usual carefree presence feeling different this time. He let out an awkward laugh, but it wasn’t his usual teasing one. No, this one was tense forced. Because if someone had done this to you, if someone had hurt you enough to make you cry, he would fucking hollow them without hesitation.

This was the first time he had ever seen you like this.

And for the first time in a long time, he felt unsure.

His voice wavered slightly as he reached for you, hesitating before speaking.

“B-baby… who got you crying like that? Tell me, what’s happening?” He tried to mask the worry in his voice, tried to keep up his usual playful charm, but it was useless his concern for you was far too obvious.

You swallowed hard, looking up at him, your heart breaking before the words even left your mouth.

“Gojo… let’s put an end to this.”

What.

The.

Fuck.

His mind short-circuited.

What in the world did you just say?

He looked at you like he had just seen a ghost.

For a moment, he didn’t move just stood there, staring at you, his mind struggling to process what he had just heard. Then, without hesitation, he reached out and grabbed your hand, gripping it tightly like he was afraid you’d slip away.

“It’s not time to joke, babe.” His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it something desperate, something scared.

But you only shook your head.

“I’m not kidding, Satoru.” Your voice wavered, but you pushed through. “I looked at myself… and then at your ex… and I realized no, not realized, because it’s the truth you deserve someone better than me. Someone more attractive, someone at your level. After all… you’re the strongest sorcerer.”

You expected him to laugh it off, to tell you you were being ridiculous. But the way his jaw clenched, the way his grip on your hand tightened just a little more

He wasn’t laughing.

He was mad.

Not the kind of playful, teasing irritation he usually had no. This was different.

It wasn’t just anger. It was disappointment. Not at you, but at the fact that you his girl were standing here, crying, actually believing you weren’t enough for him.

His eyes darkened for a split second, jaw tightening as if he was holding something back. But then, just as quickly, he dismissed it, forcing a smile onto his face.

And if you were being honest… that smile scared you a little.

Before you could say anything, he moved.

Swift, effortless he scooped you up into his arms without warning, ignoring your startled gasp.

“Satoru what the hell?”

“Shh, sweetheart.” His voice was calm, but there was something in his tone that made your breath hitch.

Without another word, he carried you straight to the washroom, his grip firm, his expression unreadable.

He gently pulled you inside the bathroom and started to make out with you.

The moment he locked the door behind you, there were no words.

No hesitation.

Just him grabbing you, kissing you, devouring you.

It was rough, desperate, his lips crashing onto yours with a force that left you breathless. First, you had shown up looking so damn beautiful, completely stealing his focus. And then, you had the audacity to say you wanted to break up because you weren’t enough for him?

Enough for him?

Fucking enough for him?

You were everything to him. The most perfect, precious woman in the world. He saw perfection in every flaw you thought you had, and the fact that you couldn’t see it? The fact that you even doubted it?

It pissed him off.

His hands cupped your face, tilting your head up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. His eyes burned with something unreadable, something intense, before he let out a sharp breath and snorted a quiet laugh.

Then he kissed you again.

Again.

And again.

“Ooo, look at this woman,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with something dark, something possessive. His hands trailed down, fingertips skimming over your thighs inner thighs, to be precise.

Your breath hitched.

“S-Satoru, what the fuck?” Your voice wavered as you tried to gather your thoughts. “What if people-”

“They’re too busy, babe,” he cut in smoothly, lips brushing against your jaw as his fingers traced slow, teasing circles.

“But what if they catch us…” you whispered, your pulse racing. The last thing you needed was for someone to walk in and see this.

A smirk curled against your skin.

“I hope nobody catches us,” he hummed, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties.

Then, he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear.

“But…” he murmured, voice thick with amusement, "I kinda hope they catch us"

You gasped, hands gripping onto his shoulders when his fingers ghosted over the thin fabric covering your heat.

“You wore blue for me, no?” His tone was teasing, but the satisfaction in his voice was undeniable.

It was true. You had wanted to look good tonight. But more than that, you knew blue was his favorite color.

And yet, as his fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns along your waistbandyou found yourself lowering your gaze , feeling shy.

"You are so gorgeous," he hummed against your skin, his lips trailing along your jaw, pressing slow, lingering kisses.

"Baby, you’re the baddest girl… nobody else matters. Not anyone. Only you."

His voice was low, dripping with conviction, and the way he said it like it was the most obvious fact in the world made your head spin.

It was almost like he was gaslighting you into believing you were the most beautiful woman to ever exist.

And fuck it was working.

He gently pushed your dress up to your waist, exposing your soft skin to the cool air. His touch was slow, deliberate like he was savoring every moment, every reaction.

Then, with the same maddening patience, he hooked his fingers around your panties and slid them down, removing them effortlessly.

But instead of tossing them aside, he smirked and casually slipped them into his pocket.

You gasped, your breath hitching as you instinctively clamped a hand over your mouth.

His smile only grew.

"Oh?" he mused, tilting his head, eyes dark with amusement. "Shy now, baby?"

You said nothing your breath caught in your throat as he leaned in, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses against your neck. Each one sent a shiver down your spine, his lips warm, teasing, possessive.

Your fingers curled into his shoulders, gripping onto him as he moved lower, his kisses trailing along your collarbone.

Then, without breaking contact, you heard the soft clink of metal.

Your eyes flickered down just in time to see him unfastening his belt, the sound making your stomach tighten with anticipation.

Satoru smirked against your skin.

"Still think I don’t want you, baby?" he murmured his voice dripping with amusement as he pulled his belt smoothly.

You swallowed hard, heat rushing to your face as he slowly slid the belt from its loops, letting it fall to the floor with a quiet thud. His fingers moved next, unbuttoning his pants with agonizing slowness like he was giving you a chance to stop him, to protest, to run.

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Not when his lips returned to your neck, kissing, biting, claiming you.

His hands roamed over your bare thighs, squeezing, kneading his touch firm yet teasing, possessive yet gentle. He was so big, his presence alone swallowing you whole.

"Still quiet?" he murmured, voice laced with amusement as his fingers traced the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. "Not gonna fight me on this?"

Your breath hitched when his fingers slipped higher, parting your thighs with ease.

"Satoru—"

"Shh, sweetheart." His thumb brushed against your clit, barely applying pressure, yet it was enough to send a shiver through you.

Your legs instinctively tried to close, but his grip was firm.

"Uh-uh," he tutted, his other hand gripping your hip. "You’re not running from me now."

You let out a shaky breath, fingers digging into his arms as he kept up his slow, torturous pace, his touch deliberate, calculated meant to break you.

His lips brushed against your ear, his voice dropping lower, thick with something dark and dangerous.

"Let me show you just how fucking perfect you are."

And that’s how it was Satoru making love to you in the bathroom, his touch reverent yet desperate, like he needed to prove something to you.

You muffled your gasps and moans, biting your lip, your hands gripping onto him as he moved against you, within you, filling every inch of your senses.

His eyes never left yours, filled with something deeper than lust something raw, devoted.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, pressing kisses wherever he could reach.

“So fucking perfect for me.”

He watched you intently, drinking in every expression, every quiet sound, and when you looked up at him desperate, vulnerable he swore under his breath, leaning in to kiss you again.

As if he could make you feel just how much he meant every word.

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t stop touching you, didn’t stop kissing you, didn’t stop whispering words that made your chest ache and your stomach tighten.

"God, baby… you have no idea what you do to me." His voice was hoarse, filled with something dangerous, something utterly worshipful.

"You’re not just beautiful. You’re stunning. The kind of gorgeous that makes people stop and stare, but they don’t even know the half of it."

His hands slid over your body, tracing every curve, every inch of skin like he was memorizing you.

"It’s not just your looks, sweetheart." He pressed a lingering kiss to your collarbone, then another, his lips trailing up your neck. "You. It’s you. Your smile, your laugh, your stubborn little attitude that drives me crazy."

You whimpered when he thrust deeper, and he groaned at the way you clenched around him.

"You’re so fucking smart, too," he continued, his voice dropping lower. "The way you think, the way your mind works I swear, it’s the sexiest thing about you."

His fingers threaded through yours, pinning your hand above your head as he met your gaze.

"And don’t even get me started on how kind you are," he breathed, his tone almost pained. "You care so much about everything, about everyone but you don’t even realize how easy it is to love you."

Your heart clenched.

"You are everything to me," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours. "So don’t you ever say you’re not enough for me again."

Then, with a smirk, he tilted his head and added,

"If anything, I should be worried about keeping up with you, gorgeous."

After some moments, you heard the click of heels approaching, and before you could even react, the door swung open.

It was none other than his ex.

Her eyes widened in pure shock, and her makeup kit slipped from her hands, crashing to the floor with a loud clatter.

But Satoru?

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t even flinch.

Instead, he smirked, his movements slow and deliberate as he reached for his discarded jacket and draped it over you, shielding your exposed skin.

Then, as if this was the most casual thing in the world, he turned to her and tilted his head.

“Oh?” His grin was lazy, smug. “Didn’t see you there.”

His grip on your hips tightened possessively before he let out a soft chuckle, his tone downright mocking.

“Hope we didn’t… interrupt anything.”

His ex ran away crying, heels clicking rapidly against the floor as she bolted out of the bathroom.

Satoru barely spared her a glance.

His attention was still on you.

His smirk softened into something more genuine as he gazed down at you, his hands gently running over your waist, your thighs, as if grounding you.

“Look at you, baby,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your flushed cheek. “So fucking pretty… too pretty to be worrying about anyone else.”

You tried to say something, but your head was spinning, your body still trembling from everything. Words felt impossible.

Satoru chuckled, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes, his expression dripping with admiration.

“Lightheaded already? Cute,” he teased, but his tone was filled with nothing but warmth.

He kissed you again slow and deep before murmuring against your lips,

“Let’s get you cleaned up, gorgeous.”

Satoru cleaned you up with a level of care that made your heart ache his usual teasing replaced with soft kisses, gentle touches, and whispered praises.

“Still with me, sweetheart?” he murmured, smoothing down your dress and fixing your hair, his blue eyes scanning your face like he was checking for any signs of discomfort.

You nodded, still too dazed to form actual words, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“God, I wrecked you, huh?” His smirk returned, but his touch remained soft, almost reverent.

Before you could even try to respond, he scooped you up into his arms effortlessly.

“Satoru—”

“Nope, not letting you walk,” he said firmly, pressing a kiss to your temple as he carried you out of the bathroom. “You look too fucked out to stand properly. And besides…” He grinned down at you. “Gotta make sure everyone sees you wrapped up in my jacket, looking all cute and satisfied.”

Your face burned as he carried you back into the party like you were the most precious thing in the world.

Every single head turned.

Gasps. Stares. Murmurs.

Your coworkers exchanged looks, some shocked, some amused.

And his ex?

Nowhere to be seen.

Satoru, on the other hand, was absolutely thriving. He wore his usual cocky grin, his chest puffed out like he had just won the grandest prize of all.

Which, in his eyes, he had.

Because you were his.

And he had just made damn sure everyone knew it.

And in that moment, wrapped up in his arms, surrounded by the warmth of his jacket and the even warmer way he looked at you

As he carried you through the party, past all the stares and whispers, he leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple before murmuring against your skin

“You know… in this whole damn world, you’re the only one who can bring me to my knees.”

His voice was soft, but his words carried weight, filled with something undeniable.

Because Satoru Gojo the strongest, the untouchable, the man who stood above all

Would willingly fall for you, every single time.

All your insecurities melted away.

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mikibwrites · 2 days ago

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The Price is Right

inspired by @theweewooshow 's post about a kissing booth :) Happy Valentines Day everyone!

bucktommy | 1.4k | G | ao3

This is ridiculous. He’s officially lost his marbles.

Tommy’s been in this line for at least fifteen minutes, and every third minute of that has been spent telling himself he should leave. The other 2 minutes of each spiraling cycle have been spent eavesdropping his fellow hopefuls in line, listening to their tittering about how hot the firefighter working this shift of the booth is, surreptitiously cataloguing every person that he can see in front of and behind him and evaluating them on what–little, sadly–he knows about Evan’s preferences and whether or not their dreams of bagging a date with him will come true. Which then, in turn, sends him back into spiraling and berating himself for being among them, given his history with said firefighter.

He needs to leave.

There are roughly ten people in front of him, and Evan definitely hasn’t spotted him yet. He could totally duck out and no one would be the wiser. He contemplates pulling his phone out of his pocket with an air of importance, putting the completely silent device to his ear and pretending something dire has just happened that requires his immediate attention. No one would question him for getting out of line, no one would suspect that he’d lost his nerve. They’d think, wow, he must be important to be needed somewhere so urgently.

Tommy’s definitely, officially for real this time, lost his marbles.

Also, there are now only seven people left in front of him.

As he watches each person get their sweet little peck on the cheek, he tries to tell himself this is for a good cause. The money goes to charity. There’s nothing weird about giving to charity. Nothing at all. There’s also nothing stopping him from just dropping the money in the basket on a table near the door that’s designated for just plain donations. He doesn’t need to get anything out of it if that’s all he’s hoping to do.

He’s definitely hoping to get something out of it. He can at least admit that to himself, if nothing else.

Five people left.

“Oh my god, he’s so hot,” Tommy hears from behind him. “Look at those arms. Hold me down, daddy.” He almost chokes, the girl’s voice clearly pitched for just her friend next to her to hear, but he’s apparently blessed with supersonic hearing. The friend chimes in as well. “I wonder if he’s actually a good kisser or if he’s one of those dudes who relies on his rizz alone and then can’t deliver when it counts.”

Tommy has no idea what ‘rizz’ is, but he has to physically stop himself from turning around and describing for this girl in detail just how good of a kisser Evan is, how well he can deliver. He’s sure that wouldn’t go over well.

Two people left. Evan is being so gracious and attentive to each of his patrons that he still hasn’t noticed Tommy. He could still make a run for it.

He’s not going to.

There’s roughly enough time for one more cycle of spiraling before he makes it in front of Evan, but Tommy chooses to spend it going over what the hell he’s going to say. Surely, Evan may protest giving his ex a kiss, even if it’s for charity, given the way they ended. It’d be well within his right to do so. So Tommy needs to have some justifications ready just in case Evan gets the wrong idea here.

And what is the idea? Tommy failed to decide before he attempted this ridiculous stunt. Honestly, he’s been so, so god damned touch starved since he walked out Evan’s door that he thinks he’d do anything for just a brush of fingertips from Evan at this point. And that’s it, really…he only wants it from Evan. His coworkers have told him multiple times that he needs to just go out and get his ex out of his system–Donato offered to wingperson for him, even–but the very idea turns his stomach.

But did he actually think that throwing some money at charity at a kissing booth of all things was going to get them anywhere near a reconciliation? Jesus, he should have just texted. Not that he hasn’t tried that, many many many times, and all of them ended up deleted because regardless of what he likes to tell himself he does not have the courage to put himself out there without the reassurance–or despair–of seeing Evan’s actual expression when he says what he wants to say.

Which is…what? Exactly? He still hasn’t deci–

“Tommy?”

Shit. He’s missed the last person in front of him getting their dutiful peck on the cheek, and now he’s run out of time.

Evan’s voice as he says his name is full of awe, trepidation, and…dare he say it…hope? His expression is even more devastating: like he’s seeing the sunrise just beginning after a century spent underground. His narrowed eyes are earnest and a little guarded, but they are trained wholly on Tommy.

Shit….what was he going to say?

“Uh, yeah. Hi. I, um…well I. Uh.” Tommy runs his fingers over his hair roughly, feeling unbearably stupid and exposed. He should have run when he had the chance. “Look, Evan, I–”

Evan’s breath hitches audibly at the sound of his name. They’re staring at each other.

“Shit or get off the pot, dude, we’re all paying customers!” Some guy further back in line is shouting.

“Um. Did you want a kiss?” Evan says, his face turning pinker by the second. And this. This Tommy can definitely answer.

“Yes,” he says, with maybe a little too much conviction behind the word for their current circumstances. Evan seems to clock it immediately, his eyes flicking down to Tommy’s mouth before coming back up to his eyes, his expression morphing to hopeful disbelief. “But, I mean, you don’t have to, here, I know you probably weren’t expecting–”

Tommy’s words are cut off by Evan’s mouth sealing onto his.

God, god, he’s missed these lips. Each slide is like a revelation, and the thought is not lost on him that they’re in the middle of what is essentially a work function, they are both in uniform for christ's sake, having a whole existential crisis shared along with their breath and space and saliva. Because yes, Evan has now bullied his insanely talented tongue right behind Tommy’s teeth and is exploring like he’s going to be asked to draw a map later.

Evan kisses him long, hard, and thorough, endless seconds ticking by and Tommy definitely doesn’t listen to any of the complaining going on in the line behind him. Evan does, though, and he very reluctantly pulls his lips away from Tommy’s and blinks in the most adorably flustered way and Tommy’s so, so gone on this man. How did he ever walk away from this?

“Can we talk?” Evan asks breathlessly.

“Please. But maybe later. Your adoring public awaits,” he adds, gesturing with his thumb to the line behind him, still nearly thirty people strong. He can’t blame them, but he’s also feeling a tad possessive so he leans in one more time to press his lips to the apple of Evan’s cheek, causing the blush to intensify when he pulls away.

Tommy begins to turn to walk away, his smile already making his cheeks sore when Evan clears his throat. He raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t pay, you know.” He’s smirking, the little shit.

Before Tommy can make a move, someone in line shouts, “Damn! How much does it cost to get that?”

“That is not for sale,” Evan states with finality, but he’s still looking at Tommy, lips pursing, trying to hold back a full blown grin. There are a few groans from the line.

Tommy reaches into his wallet, pulls out a $100, and slaps it on the table in front of Evan. “What time does your shift end?”

“In thirty minutes.”

“Meet me at the cafe two blocks down. Bring those lips. We’ll talk.” Tommy congratulates himself on being smooth as he smirks right back at the look on Evan’s face.

“Mmm, okay. I’ll bring these lips. But I hope you remember they’re good for more than just talking,” Evan adds as Tommy turns to walk away.

He retracts his self-congratulations as he trips over his own feet.

#bucktommy #911 on abc #911 fic #inspired by a post #thank you Janai for inspiring me! felt so good to write SOMETHING after all this time :)#also I am roughly Tommy's age and I'm hoping this has been a successful deployment of 'rizz' 😂

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mayrose713 · 1 day ago

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Beautifully Cruel World-Chapter 20

Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

ABO Non-Idol Stray Kids Universe Poly OT8 x Reader 18+ MDNI

Warnings in the Series Masterlist as well as any other information needed

Chapter 20

“Wow, the view from here is insane. I can’t believe this is just down the street from the house.” Y/n looks out the large glass windows that make up the cafe up on a hill looking over the beach. “And all those boats out there.”

“This side of the island is a pretty good fishing spot this time of year.” Changbin smiles at her as they are waiting in line to order drinks.

“Do you guys like to go fishing?” She finally turns away from the windows for the first time to look at her two dates.

“Not really.” Jisungs shakes his head. “Main thing is Minho doesn’t like water, so.”

“He seemed to be fine on the ferry we took to get here.”

“It’s because it’s a bigger boat than one you would go fishing on.” Changbin chuckles. “Plus he’s done the trip so many times he’s used to it by now. He hated it the first few times we came down here.”

“Though he doesn’t usually stay in the water for very long, so the fact that he stayed for a while when we had our beach day really says something.” Jisung thinks about it a little. “Maybe it's because of you that he’s getting more comfortable with it.”

“I doubt that.” The omega gives a small snort before finally looking up at the menu board as they are getting closer to the front of the line. “What are you guys getting?”

“Ice americanos.” They two males say at the same time making Y/n laugh when they look at each other shocked.

“What do you want to drink, angel?” Jisung wraps his arm around her shoulders.

“Well, I’ve never actually had coffee before.” She continues to scan the menu. “And I don’t want to get one to try in case I don’t like it.”

“You can try ours to see if you like it for next time.” Changbin nudges her shoulder. “Though I feel like you’ll be like Felix and won’t like it. But they do have smoothies if you want that.”

Y/n looks at the smoothies part of the menu and sighs. “There’s so many flavors, how do you choose?”

“We’ll pick one for you.” The beta squeezes her shoulders. “Are there any fruits you don’t like?”

“Pineapple.”

“Alright, we won’t pick anything with pineapple.” Jisung laughs.

Once it’s their turn Changbin steps up to the counter to order while Jisung and Y’n stand near the side, the older swaying them a little as they wait for their alpha.

“Can I get two large ice americanos and one large strawberry banana smoothie?”

Once they’ve gotten their drinks they walk out of the cafe and instead of heading down to the beach like Y/n thought, they lead her across the street to a large park and garden.

“Here, pretty girl, try it.” Changbin hands her his Americano and she takes a sip only to make a face with a scrunched up nose making both males laugh. “I figured you wouldn’t like it.”

“Made the same face Lixie always makes.” Jisung shakes his head.

“How’s the smoothie?” Changbin asks after she hands him back his drink and immediately drinks hers.

“So much better than yours, that’s for sure.” She then looks around as they start walking through the park. “So what is this place?”

“Jeju is known for having a lot of beautiful parks and gardens.” Jisung grabs her hand that isn’t holding her drink. “This one is one of my favorites and not just because it’s walking distance from the house meaning I can walk here with either an alpha or a beta.”

“Usually Jinnie takes him so he can paint while Ji walks around the place.” Changbin looks at the beta. “But he wanted so badly to take you here too and asked if this could be our date.”

“Aww, Jisungie.” Y/n leans her head against his shoulder. “Where’s yours and Hyun's favorite place to go in here?”

“Follow me.”

Jisung leads the two through the park and into the guarded area. Hundreds of different flowers are blooming and the smells are amazing. They go to a bridge over a small river and they can hear the sound of a waterfall.

“This is both of our favorite spot.” Jisung points to the waterfall with trees hanging over it, flower petals falling off the branches into the water.

The omega gasps at how beautiful it is. “Wow Ji, this place is amazing.”

“Look in the water.” Changbin leans into her side pointing just below them. “A bunch of koi fish.”

“They’re so pretty.”

“Come on, there’s more.”

Jisung drags the two of them around the whole garden. They would occasionally sit on a bench and take in the scenery. Y/n remembering she has a phone again started taking pictures of everything. She sent a few to Hyunjin asking if he could paint her a mural of one of them on her wall in her room. And the three of them took a few pictures together sending them to the group chat after realizing they need to take pictures with Y/n now as they don’t have any.

“Woah.” Y/n’a eyes light up as they reach the exit of the garden on the other side of the park where there are trees lining the path, millions of flower petals littering the ground and more still falling.

She runs ahead of them to go down the path and they follow along smiling at her.

“You chose a good date Ji.” The alpha takes the youngest’s hand and uses his other to take pictures of the girl. “I don't think we've ever seen her like this before.”

“I hope we get to see this more often now.”

They reach the end of the path where their omega is waiting for them with a huge smile.

“You’ve got flower petals in your hair, baby.” Changbin chuckles and lets go of Jisungs hand and they both start picking the petals off of her.

“The next time we come to the island can we go to more of the parks and gardens?”

“I’m sure we can.” Jisung grins. “Remember, the alphas can’t say no to Lix and I. Adding you in when asking for stuff, oh they’re done for.”

Changbin hits him on the back of the head, making him pout. “Don’t go having any ideas.”

The alpha then takes Y/n’s hand and she grabs Jisungs and they start walking through the park to head back to the house. They see some pups playing on the playground and a pack set up at one of the gazebos.

“Y/n?” A teen beta girl walks over to the three of them and gets excited at seeing the omega. “Oh my god it is you.” She runs up to her and hugs her, Y/n stands in shock letting go of both of her dates hands, before the teen turns and calls to a younger alpha boy. “Kwan, go get grandma and grandpa, it’s Y/n.”

“No, Nobi…” But Y/n was too late as Kwan has already run off to the gazebo to grab two of the adults and she turns to her two mates after letting go of the teen. “We need to go.”

“Why are you going? We haven’t seen you in two weeks.” Nobi pouts. “Grandma said you went to visit your dad in Japan. What are you doing here? And who are they?”

“Nobi, I need to go.” She’s getting desperate to leave now and Changbin and Jisung can tell.

“Let's go, Y/n.” Changbin wraps his arm around her trying to move her past the teen but they weren’t fast enough as Kwan was already back with an older alpha male and a beta female.

“Y/n, there you are.” The beta gasps and smiles walking up to her, grabbing her from Changbin to hug. Y/n stands still in both shock and fear. “Where have you been? You just ran off and we tried looking for you. Someone found your car abandoned at a park but you were nowhere around and no one came forward as witnesses.”

“But you told us she went to Japan.” Kwan looks at the two adults confused before looking at the omega then at Nobi.

“You two go back to playing with the other pups.” The older alpha tells them both. “You’ll be able to talk and ask Y/n questions later.”

They watch the teens run off as Changbin grabs Y/n pulling her back towards him and Jisung protectively, not liking the situation. The older male sees this, eyes narrowing at the scene.

“Thank you gentlemen for bringing our omega back to us.” He gives a forced smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “As her pack alpha we’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again, we can’t thank you enough.”

“We’re not leaving her with you.” Jisung says out of nowhere, shocking even himself at his outburst as it usually isn’t like him, but he doesn't want Y/n to be taken from them.

“And who do you think you are to decide that?” The alpha steps closer to Jisung causing him to cower which Changbin wasn’t going to allow.

“Y/n’s fated mates, that’s who.”

“Even if you are, she’s still under my pack. I haven’t given her to anyone yet.” The man snarls and roughly grabs the girl's wrist, pulling her to him causing her to whimper.

Y/n doesn’t know what to do or say as her wrist now throbs from how hard he grabbed her. She feels her phone vibrating in her pocket but is too scared to move.

The older female looks Y/n over as if pretending to make sure she’s okay and gasps when she sees Chan's mating bite on one side of her neck. “You claimed her?”

“You claimed my granddaughter without even talking to me first?” He gets mad and shoves Changbin a little.

“STOP!”

Y/n’s grandfather looks at her angrily, questioning if she really just dared to speak. “What?”

“Stop.” She says again, tears pooling at her waterline. “I’m not coming back with you. I’m going back home, with them.”

“Y/n, we’ve been worried sick about you, we didn’t know where you went.”

“Then why didn’t you ever report her as missing?” Changbin asks, moving Jisung behind him as he tries to get closer to his omega to take her back. “You say you’ve been worried about her but yet she’s been gone for two weeks and there was never a missing persons report filed, I know because we checked. And if you really cared about her so much then why was she bruised, malnourished, and timid when we first found her?”

“Whatever that bitch told you is a lie.” He growls, hating that his own morals are being questioned. “She’s not mentally sane in the head anyways. Why she needs to come back with us.” He looks at the girl again and eyes narrow on the other side of her neck now seeing Felix and Minho’s bites and scoffs. “Always knew you were a slut, getting claimed by more than one man.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.” She hisses trying to walk past him back to her mates but he grabs her wrist again and when she tries to pull away he slaps her cheek making her stop in shock.

Her grandfather moves to grab her again making the omega freak out as she tries to scurry away from him causing her to trip over her feet and fall to the ground.

“Get the fuck away from her.” Changbin rushes forward grabbing the other male just as sirens are heard along with several yelling voices heading their way.

______________________________________________________________

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on-wine-dark-seas · 3 days ago

Text

The Invitation

Dedicated to the little Black girl who wanted to be all things when the world told her she was nothing. You are everything. 🍯

🪧 Summary: 1050 AD, Heian Era. One full moon, Sukuna meets a dancing storyteller at the Hida Harvest Festival. But after a tragically violent evening robs her of everything, she winds up in a strange alliance with the King of Curses as his guest. 📚 Series: Sonder 🔞 Rating: Explicit ⚠️️ Warning[s]: Rape/Non-Con [not from Sukuna don't worry], blood, gore, description of wounds and dead bodies, cannibalism, recreational drug use [ganja, psilocybin, opium], slow-ish burn, hurt/comfort, PTSD, revenge, catharsis, eventual romance, eventual smut, Ryōmen Sukuna is his own warning. 💋 Pairing[s]: Sukuna x The Writer [⛩️🍯] 🎧 Playlist: [ the invitation ]

⛩️ AO3 𑁍 Parallax OCs 𑁍 Sonder OCs ⛩️

🍯 III. 無夢 Without Dreams

“Smell that, Uraume?” Sukuna asks. “Winter is soon. And look, we’re damn near finished, just as I said we would be.” He glares down the line of one of his arms, weltered with blood and gore. The corpse attached to his massive fist is slumped in death, the face—what’s left of it—slacked in horror and shock. With one sharp jerk, he flings the body away and heaves a long, satisfied sigh. Behind him, ice crackles as Uraume’s footsteps carry them across the ruin of the battlefield.

“It is as you say, my lord,” they affirm. “Still, we cut it rather close. Did you really need to indulge those performers the other night?”

Sukuna laughs and stretches, opening all four of his arms toward the cold, muted light of the sun hidden in cloud cover.

“Ah, are you still miffed about that, Ume? They were entertaining! Aside, there was the girl to consider. You saw what I saw, did you not?”

“I did,” Uraume agrees. “Still, do you think it wise to invite them to the shrine? If she’s—”

Sukuna waves his hand. “You worry too much. There is no one in this land who can contend with me, save Sugawara himself, and he’s hiding behind the capital’s forces like the pampered palace brat he is.”

Sukuna glances over his shoulder down at his companion.

“It’s going to be a bitter winter, Ume, and our meat stores are low. If they displease me, I’ll just eat them. Will that please you?”

Uraume huffs an annoyed sigh and shrugs.

“As always, you will do as you see fit, and I trust your judgement. Perhaps we should head out, now, if we are to meet them at the shrine tonight.”

Sukuna scratches one of his ears idly, groaning in relief as the itch subsides.

“You’re right, of course,” he says. “Where’s my horse? Damn beast’s probably wandered off to graze somewhere…though I can’t imagine where.”

They find his steed, a massive warhorse bred to steel itself in the face of the atrocities Sukuna commits almost daily. Unlike every other living thing, it is happy to see him.

“Akechi,” Sukuna croons. “Always at the ready, eh?”

He swings into the saddle with the ease of one born to it. Akechi is a valuable steed, being one of the largest he’s ever seen, and thus able to accommodate him. He pulls Uraume up to sit in front of him. Unfortunately, their own horse was slain in the initial fighting by some lucky bastard with a naginata. Uraume froze the man’s head in a block of ice and tore it off in retaliation.

Still, they’d liked that horse.

Leaving a smoldering battlefield in his wake, Sukuna rides south, toward home as if he himself is a war hero, and not the scourge of the Fujiwara in the north. They beat a quick path, his cursed energy spilling over the land like a cloud of sickness. Lesser curses scatter into the shadows, and those not dead shiver in their homes and know not why, only that it is safer to be inside when Ryōmen Sukuna is on the loose.

The mountains of the north gentle into the hills of the south as they ride, and the moon creeps into the sky by the time the familiar path to his shrine comes into the distance, marked by the thickening crowds of trees and the cawing of ever-present crows, knowing that Sukuna will keep them fed on true carrion. He is a creature of meat, and so too are they. They watch him as he rides through the forest.

Sukuna sniffs the air, frowning.

“Something’s burning,” he mutters, and feels the prick of what could only be anticipation in his blood. A potential scrap before home? Ah, he may not have to hunt after all.

They make their way into the forest path and come upon a shocking discovery.

“My lord…!” Uraume gasps. Sukuna’s mouth opens and then shuts. He recognizes the wagon, which is now set ablaze. He also recognizes the bodies strewn on the ground. He’s out of the saddle before he realizes it, cursed energy gathering around him like a storm cloud. With a swipe of his hand, he guides the flames of the wagon, starving them of oxygen and snuffing them out. The wagon is a blackened, smoking husk, and Sukuna can tell this fire is recent. He can smell the coppery stench of blood, recently spilled. He can also see residuals of cursed technique usage.

Their assailants had been sorcerers.

“My lord!” Uraume calls. “Look!”

Sukuna is by their side immediately, inspecting what they’ve discovered. His eyes go wide when he sees her, curled in the dirt like some beaten, half-dead creature; a crown of kings bloodied by overthrow. He reaches down, brushes aside the dirt and leaves in her braided hair, barely touching the ugly, swollen bruise on her cheek. He takes in her torn and bloodied clothing, sees the blood and seed slick between her thighs, and knows what has happened here.

Her throat was cut, he can see the wound, but he can also barely make out her breath. She’s still alive. Barely holding on, but her soul is there.

“Will you not heal her, my lord?” Uraume asks. Sukuna does not answer. Instead, he keeps his eyes on her, his face as impassive as a god’s. He waits.

Come on. He thinks, wondering why he feels so desperate. Do it. I know you can. I saw it the night I watched you dance.

A pulse. Faint but deep.

Sukuna tries not to hold his breath.

Another pulse, and her fingers move in an imperceptible twitch.

Sukuna dares to take a deep, steadying breath.

Šetû’s body convulses and jerks in a pained, desperate gasp. Her cursed energy folds in on itself again and again, doubling over until it shifts. The wound on her throat closes, flesh knitting anew. Her eyes flutter open.

And she screams once before collapsing, unconscious from the exertion.

I knew it.

But Sukuna is pleased with what he’s seen, and Uraume understands now why he chose not to heal her.

“Salvage what you can,” he tells them, then looks at the other corpses. Her brother, her twin cousins. Sukuna’s eyes narrow. Where is the other? The one with the sour face and terrible beard? He snorts. Like as not he too is dead in the forest somewhere. If the sorcerers who did this didn’t kill him, the curses that linger in these woods certainly will.

“What of the bodies, my lord?” Uraume asks. Sukuna looks down at Šetû, scooping her into his lower arms. He could take the corpses and butcher them for later. She didn’t have to know, and it would be a damn sight less cumbersome than trying to burn them all and go through the ceremony of a funeral. Hm.

“Bring them as well,” he says at last. “We’ll store them in the icehouse and figure out what to do with them later.”

Uraume looks slightly nonplussed at the decision. Normally, Sukuna is so decisive about what to do with a human body. It’s free meat, and it’s his favorite kind of meat. He doesn’t usually waver on decisions concerning food.

“As you wish, Lord Sukuna,” they affirm and set out to do his bidding. It is not their place to question, although they do prod from time to time. Sukuna sets Šetû atop his horse, lashing her to the saddle. He lashes the corpses of her family as well. Akechi does naught but flick his tail in annoyance at the combined weight but sets into an easy walk as Sukuna leads him by the reins, Uraume joining his side as always.

The shrine’s massive torii looms like an ill omen as the master returns past its threshold. A pair of hitodama blaze atop the torii like twin lanterns, casting a sickly, violet glow over the entrance. They pass by in silence, and Sukuna’s cursed energy settles over the area, scattering curses that dared creep too close in his absence. The lanterns of the shrine are lit, and attendants are there to greet him. Only a few: a stable hand, and two older priestesses that chose to serve rather than die like their brethren. Sukuna keeps them only because they are useful.

“Welcome home, Lord Sukuna,” they greet, bowing low. Sukuna tosses the reins to his stable hand, and gestures to Šetû, once more gathered in his arms.

“Attend to this one,” he says curtly, and they startle when they see her, mindful not to draw his ire. Years of working for him and neither will risk triggering his capricious temperament. They obey with alacrity, taking the girl in their strong arms and heading inside to tend to her. Sukuna watches them go, something agitating his spirit again. Uraume directs the stable hand to assist them in storing the additional bodies in the icehouse. Sukuna catches a glimpse of Amadou’s corpse in his lower eyes. A pity. The boy had been kind and noble hearted.

He thinks about the residuals he saw at the site, and the bridge of his nose wrinkles like a tiger’s muzzle.

Not agitation, then. Anger.

Someone had dared come close to his home and had spilled blood of those he had invited as guests. It is a direct insult, he surmises, it can be naught else. There would have been no reason to harm these foreigners otherwise. That means, it was someone at the harvest festival; someone who had seen them perform, and someone who had seen Sukuna in their camp hours later.

He exhales through his nose, the heat of his own curses in his belly building.

They had humiliated and violated Asiri, murdered her family, and burned up their lives all for the crime of showing him idle kindness. They had welcomed him where others would have shunned out of fear and superstition, and their kindness had been repaid like this. Even Sukuna had to admit this was particularly heinous.

And cowardly. That was what really got under his skin. Someone was too afraid to face him directly, and so they would try to punish him by denying him even the barest crumb of amicable human interaction.

“Uraume,” Sukuna says as they head inside. Uraume is at their side in an instant.

“Yes, my lord?”

“Let me know as soon as the girl wakes up. I would speak with her and get to the truth of who has done this thing.”

Uraume nods firmly, divining their master’s will as the shrine doors shut behind them.

The next few days are spent unwinding. Sukuna takes tribute from those seeking his aid and favor, and usually that provides the meat he craves when any who dare cross his threshold displease him, but his mind is distracted.

He’s thinking of her.

She’s been in that room since he brought her to the shrine, attended by Okoi and Oboro, who are gifted in the healing arts and medicine pertaining to womenfolk. Sukuna does not ask for the details, but they report to him that Asiri was given a medicinal contraceptive to prevent any seed from taking root and was being kept sedated with a steady supply of opium pellets and valerian root tea. She slept mostly, but the valerian was to keep down the screaming.

Sukuna is puzzled at this. Screaming?

He hears it one night, the forlorn and anguished moans of a woman plagued by true nightmares. And then the screams. Twice, he is startled to wakefulness, only to find her in her bed, thrashing, swiping at ghosts that aren’t cold enough to be buried in her psyche yet. Fresh and feeding from her terror and grief.

Okoi and Oboro do their best to keep her quiet, and Sukuna threatens to eat their fingers if they don’t keep the girl calm.

The screams stop after a few days, but Sukuna knows it will be some time before her nightmares are well and truly behind her.

She sleeps.

And when the first snow of winter begins to fall, she wakes.

For a stretch of time that feels unending, she is curled in on herself. The darkness around her is amniotic in its warmth and consistency, and she feels buoyed by the viscous shadows around her. She keeps her eyes closed tightly, hugs her knees to her chest, and remains still.

Something is pulling at her, however, trying to nudge her back to the light.

Leave me alone. Comes her tired protest, husk-hollow and bone-weary. She flinches when the thing tugs on her again. Had she wings this thing would have pulled them off by now to prevent her escape.

She wishes she had wings. She would never touch the ground again.

The darkness begins to recede like a great wave, and she hugs herself tighter, trying not to weep. No more, please. No more.

And all at once she is shoved into the light, eyes opening wide as she gasps into wakefulness, immediately squinting against the brightness in the room she’s in.

She blinks, her eyes squinting to adjust to the light. She breathes in, catches a whiff of something earthy and musk-like.

Sandalwood.

She sits up, pushing her upper body upright on trembling arms. She feels weaker than a newborn kitten, and there’s a lingering soreness in her face. She reaches up with a trembling hand to touch her cheek. Tender, bruised, almost as if—

Her stomach roils and she clamps her hand over her mouth to force the bile back down.

The door to the room she’s in slides open and she startles at the sight of an older woman with graying hair bearing a tray. She’s wearing the robes of a shrine priestess, and Šetû makes the connection that she must in Sukuna’s residence.

“Oh,” the older woman says, smiling at her with kind and sympathetic eyes. “You’re finally awake and lucid. This is good news. Lord Sukuna will be pleased to hear it.”

Šetû says nothing, uncertain of what words she can possibly say at this moment. Silence feels safer, and so she remains reticent as the older woman sweeps in on silent footsteps to set the tray on the low bedside table. There is an assortment of food items Šetû recognizes from her travels, and there is hot tea, still steaming in the little tea pot. She pours herself a cup. Her tongue feels dry and swollen in her mouth, her throat feels raw and sore, like she’s been screaming.

Or weeping.

She freezes before the cup touches her lips as her memories jerk and flicker before her mind’s eye, reminding her that what happened to her was no nightmare, but real.

She sets the cup down as her heart races, her hands tremble, and tears blur her vision. The older woman, who is tidying up the modest room, looks over and her brows knit in concern.

“Please, lady, you must eat,” she says, her voice gentle but insistent. “It is the only way to regain your strength, and Lord Sukuna will not abide weakness in his home.”

Lord Sukuna. Of course. Šetû stares at the tray. She cannot shun the man’s hospitality. She would have died out there had he not taken her in.

She wishes she had.

Šetû regards the thought with subtle horror.

She forces herself to eat, but the food might as well be ashes in her mouth. Still, it is sustenance, and little by little, in slow drips, she feels her body’s weakness ease into a tired species of despair and exhaustion. She drinks the tea, lets it warm her belly, but she can’t taste that either. She doesn’t care. The older woman waits until she clears her plates before collecting the tray, nodding in approval. Šetû opens her mouth to speak, then closes it. She does not see the point in speaking…or much of anything, really.

The woman leaves, the door sliding shut behind her, and Šetû is alone.

Quietly, carefully, she lets herself get out of bed, climbing to her feet. She notices she’s dressed in a plain robe, likely by the older woman charged with her care. She glances around the room, seeking anything familiar. She sees a trunk at the far corner of the room, albeit burned, but she recognizes it. She goes to open it, and sees all of her clothing and jewelry inside, untouched by the flames of her assailants in the wake of her—

She shuts the trunk abruptly.

Sunlight pours through the lattice window, and she slides open the door to find a small engawa affording her a view of what should have been a lush, green garden. Right now, it is blanketed in a thick, unblemished carpet of snow. Her breath fogs in front of her face, and the cold nips at her toes. She slides the door shut and turns instead to the other door; the one leading into the shrine itself.

She glances at her burnt trunk, and then she leaves the room.

Out in the halls, the shrine is silent, almost serene. There is a contemplative silence about the place that makes her feel as if it is abandoned, and she pads silently on bare feet toward wherever her curiosity draws her.

All over the shrine are signs of a familiar religion: Buddhism. Šetû remembers the motifs and iconography from her travels on the continent proper. She and her brother had spent a great deal of time in India. It had been warm—

She whips around when she hears whispers and looks around frantically for somewhere to hide. She finds a door, slides it open, and slips inside. On the other side, the voices pass by, whispering and chattering too fast for her to understand, but they do not notice her. Šetû breathes a sigh of relief.

The smell of sandalwood is stronger in this room; fresher. She turns, sees an elegantly appointed bedchamber. On a raised dais, a bed much larger than any bed she has ever seen in her life, heaped with pillows and down-stuffed blankets. A large brazier burns in the room, keeping it pleasantly warm. In the far corner there’s a desk, heaped with parchments, scrolls, and bound books. She hesitates, then ventures further in.

Like her own modest room, there is a sliding door leading to a much larger engawa, only instead of a garden is a sequestered hot spring. Steam curls from the natural spring, surrounded by a picturesque view of the snowy landscape. She wonders if Lord Sukuna would mind if she took a dip. Some springs are said to have healing properties, and her body needs it. The cold nips at her again, and she decides against it, sliding the door shut. If this is his private bedchamber then she should leave before he comes back.

Back in the hall, she wanders again, seeking other rooms. She follows the scent of cooking, instead, her body—now fully awake—seeking greater sustenance. Something more nourishing and fulfilling than broth.

She finds the kitchen, of course, and it’s already occupied by Uraume. She remembers them from the night of the festival. Their back is to her, but occasionally they bark out orders to the kitchen staff, strange, masked creatures that leap to do their bidding. Uraume brandishes a large knife, stained with blood.

Chop!

The heavy thud of steel meeting flesh, shearing through bone to hit the butcher block beneath makes Šetû leap in her own skin, and she suddenly has no appetite, backing away from the kitchens to explore elsewhere.

Out in the main hall, she finds a large set of double doors, firmly shut. She presses her ear against it, straining to hear any sound from the other side, but the iron-banded wood is thick, and there’s no way she can open these doors in her current state. She sighs and decides she will return to her rooms.

She realizes after several moments and turns, that she is lost.

“Fuck,” she croaks out, her first word in what feels like ages.

Frustration and fear settle in, making her scalp prickle. She’s not sure if she’s allowed to be out of her room, and she isn’t sure what will happen when someone finds her. She can’t linger in the hallway like some dazed, madwoman.

Are you not a dazed madwoman, though? A voice whispers, and she almost laughs at herself, knifing her hands through her braids and taking a deep, hissing breath in an attempt to calm her suddenly frayed nerves.

Yes. Yes, she is. A madwoman. Dazed. Lost.

Wounded beyond what she thought possible.

Her mind shies from the memories of that night, but she sees them all the same.

It’s only fair.

Bile rises in her throat, and she claps a hand over her mouth, leaning against the wall as her breathing comes labored, her forehead and temples damp with sweat.

“Lady Asiri?” Šetû startles at the voice, whirling around to find the older woman from earlier. Her dark eyes are soft with concern, a wrinkle in her straight and proud brows. She calms immediately.

“You shouldn’t be out and about so soon,” the woman says. “Lord Sukuna would not like you getting sick in his halls. Come with me.”

Šetû nods, and the woman turns smoothly setting off down the hall at a smooth glide. She follows.

“What is your name?” She asks, padding after the older woman.

“Oboro,” the woman replies. “And the other is my sister, Okoi. We are the priestesses of this temple.”

Šetû’s brows go up. “So, Lord Sukuna really is a deity? I thought…”

Oboro’s shoulders stiffen slightly at the words, imperceptible, but Šetû sees it. No, not a god then. That is the reaction of resentment.

“He is a powerful sorcerer of great renown,” Oboro replies and Šetû knows a rehearsed line when she hears it. She is afraid of Lord Sukuna, she resents him, and likely this temple was not his originally. It does not take much to deduce. “It is my pleasure to serve him.”

Tch. Šetû doubts that, but she nods.

“I see,” she says. “Thank you, Oboro-san. I think…I would like to speak with Lord Sukuna myself and thank him for his hospitality.”

Oboro’s shoulders grow tense again, as if she can’t believe anyone would want to thank Sukuna for anything or associate him with hospitality at all. Šetû reserves her judgement. She will speak with Sukuna herself, with no pretense between them.

They reach her room, and Oboro slides the door open, standing aside as Šetû entered. For some reason, being in the room she woke up in brings her a measure of comfort. She returns to the bed to sit down. She’s about to open her mouth to ask more questions when every fine hair on her body immediately stands on end.

Oboro folds into an obeisant kneel.

“My lord,” she greets with reverence that makes Šetû wonder at this woman’s motives for lingering here. Sukuna’s voice is deep and resonant.

“You are dismissed, Oboro,” he says, his massive frame filling up the doorway. “I would have words with our guest.”

Šetû pulls her robe tighter and steels her courage as Sukuna steps into the room, ducking to avoid the top of the doorframe as he fills up the space not only physically, but spiritually. Šetû folds herself into a kneel, forehead pressed to the floor. Sukuna gestures for her to rise, seemingly annoyed with the honorifics and frippery. Here, in this private room, he does not care for it.

The door slides shut behind him.

Šetû sits back on her heels, trying to keep her breaths even. Sukuna is so much larger than she remembers him being. Seeing him in the cold light of day is different. He is massive and there’s an energy about him that makes her shiver down to the marrow. He can see this, and he does not seem to care. As if it is a common occurrence.

“Why didn’t you mention you are a sorcerer?” Sukuna asks bluntly.

She blinks several times, brows raising.

“I—” She hesitates but Sukuna’s expression is impassive and unyielding. He wants an answer, and he wants the truth.

“I’m not a sorcerer,” she says. “And quite frankly, I don’t even know what that means! I’m just a…”

“A what?” Sukuna asks, lip curling. “A dancer? An entertainer? I saw you that night you danced, your cursed energy bloomed like a flower of fire to rival a storm. Everyone felt it. When I sat by the fire with you, it licked at mine like—”

She stares at him, uncomprehending. Sukuna stares back and for a while there is only silence. Then, the tension in him eases and he shuts his main eyes, chuckling darkly. His lower eyes never leave hers, though.

“I see,” he says, opening his eyes again. “You didn’t know. Of course.”

Šetû’s brows furrow. “What…what do you mean I am a sorcerer? The ones who—” She hesitates. “Those men said I was a sorcerer in allegiance with you. As if…”

Sukuna’s lips curl into a cruel smirk.

“They thought you were mine, did they? How foolish. You may not be aware of your power, but you are not strong enough to contend with the likes of me.”

Šetû rises to her feet, her expression hard and indignant.

“I am not weak,” she says fiercely and doesn’t know why his smug smirk galls her. “I just…I don’t know what all this is about. We were on our way to you before…”

Sukuna’s eyes narrow. Every time she seems poised to tell him what happened, something stops her. He sees the visible recoil in her, her mind shying away from what was doubtless the worst night of her life. He should be cruel to her, he thinks; cauterize the wound before she lets it fester. But wounds of the soul are not so easily mended, and hers is fresh…and unfathomably deep.

“Thank you,” she says instead. Sukuna raises a brow. “For healing me.”

“I didn’t heal you.” He says curtly and then turns to leave. Šetû is even more confused than before. If he hadn’t healed her, who had?

“Was it Oboro-san?” She asks. “Or her sister? Perhaps I should thank them instead.”

Sukuna glances over his shoulder, says nothing, and leaves the room. Šetû frowns. What is his problem? Has she offended him somehow? Or was he always like this and she just caught him on a good night? She huffs out a heavy sigh. At least…at least she is safe.

Until she sleeps.

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serukaiz · 3 days ago

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i’m not sure if you’re taking requests but i’d love to see your take on bully!keisuke or overall mean and nasty keisuke <33

thank you so much for the req, darling! i had fun writing this. my requests are still open! i’ll go ahead and mention that in my pinned. i hope this is to your satisfaction <3

♡ 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘!𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄.

💢 MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT!

⚠️ warnings: smut, heavy dacryphilia, sadism, masochism, the whole thing starts because he blackmails you, he’s an evil asshole in this, he hates you but does he really, degradation, MEAN SHIT!!!

ⓘ this won’t be centered around him in school or college. think of it like you were unfortunately introduced to him and he decided you’re the one girl he wants to cause pure misery.

you’re a friend of mikey’s. he’s got this one companion — best friend — keisuke baji.

he’s strong from what you know. tall, muscular. dark eyes and a brooding demeanour, a voice that sends chills down any person’s spine. a total hunk. he’s got nice taste too.

you haven’t interacted with keisuke much. barely at all, actually. you’ve seen him once or twice. he’s not someone close to you. not someone as easy to talk to as mikey’s other friends. you’ve never had any relations with him, neither conflict nor a tender moment. he was just… there. always in the corner of your eye, always somewhere in your line of sight.

that shouldn’t matter much. it wouldn’t have. you’ve seen a great deal of good-looking men in your life — not a single one quite as unique and appealing as he is, but… attractive still. there was certainly something special about keisuke, no doubt. you felt a sense of exhilaration when he came by. possibly the fact he can snap your spine in a heartbeat if he so wished.

i’d tell you he would never do that. that he’d never be cruel to you, but he would be. he has been. he is.

after the first time you met, he started lingering. you saw him far more often, he was like a phantom. right in your vicinity, just out of reach. you thought your interaction with him would go nowhere, he’d leave you alone and forget about your existence for the rest of his days.

but he didn’t. in fact, he approached you. multiple times. and it got nastier. every. single. day.

he’d shove past you, not even bothering to apologise. you weren’t the first person he’d look at in a room — you didn’t realise it so. the way he’d speak to you, condescendingly and sharp as if you’re some nuisance, it hurt. he’d roll his eyes the instant you open your mouth and he took a sick amount of pleasure in seeing that dumbstruck, disappointed look on your pretty face.

conversations with him were short. they always left your mind bleeding, racing. he was unpredictable. you wanted to figure him out. you had to. but it was so difficult, because keisuke is not as simple a man as most would think.

his subtle torment on you started the third or fourth time you’d met. you were with a few mutual friends, hanging out and having a decent time. keisuke went to get some drinks for everyone and he’d purposefully spilled yours on your clothes, apologising so half-assedly that mikey himself was a little shocked he’d be so impolite to a girl.

what no one realised at the time was that keisuke wanted a glimpse of

you. sure, he’d stalked you a little before, but he hadn’t seen your bra in such a… lewd fashion. he just wanted to humiliate you as well. ‘what a slut,’ he’d think, ‘wearin’ a bra like that in front of everyone. who the fuck does she think she is?’

and as soon as that thought clicked in his head, he knew something.

he felt far too amused at your suffering. it made his heart which many thought to be good, skip a beat. he couldn’t bring himself to feel remorse for it.

that look of embarrassment on your face, the shame. he needed to see more. he had to recreate it.

so he did, over and over, with new methods each time, until one day… he had the perfect leverage.

you were hooking up with some guy. unnamed, a loser no one gave a shit about. he wasn’t the point of attention, however. you were. and keisuke just had to grab this opportunity it, hold it over your head. the guy was recording. you really were such a slut, letting him do that with no qualms. no smarts at all, how naive. although seeing you have something so intimate with another person annoyed keisuke beyond belief, the bliss of having something to blackmail you with and get you to do favours in exchange was absolutely intoxicating.

once that lame session was done and over with, the idiot left your house and never came by again. keisuke jumped him somewhere you no one could see, beat him bloody and snatched the recorder right out of his ugly little hands. he told him, “i’ll break your fuckin’ fingers if you don’t shut the fuck up,” and the man complied, but keisuke broke them anyway. he made quite sure he wouldn’t be ratted out.

now, he knew how to initiate this new level to your so-called bond. he’d never been to your place before — actually, he did, you just never knew. what? can’t a guy check up on his favourite plaything? give him a break.

you came to your room with a deafening shriek, panic overtaking your entire body at the sight of that brute leaning against your windowsill and listening to… porn..? with the most nonchalant expression on his stern face. he didn’t even flinch at your scream. you swore you could’ve passed out from pure fear that day.

“how the fuck did you find my house?!”

“you’re actually such a loser. you still own this many plushies? if i lose hearing ‘cause of your dumb little mouth i’m gonna snap you in two ‘n rip your stuffed animals in half next, so shut up and c’mere.”

you obeyed, anxiety and terror dripping off of your frame. that made the corners of his mouth twitch.

with an indifferent air to his movements, he turned up the volume to the max just to fuck with you some more, and showed you the video playing on his phone.

your heart dropped.

you, buried in the sheets, moaning like a whore. he caught that on video. keisuke baji caught that on video — the man who has been dying to have some form of leverage on you, he fucking had the video! you knew you shouldn’t have trusted that bastard you had sex with!

“pfft… you moan so loud, goddamn. surprised your neighbours didn’t complain to ya. you don’t have any standards, huh?”

“how— how did you get that video?”

his lips curled into a sneer at your obvious question. “how do you think, dumbfuck?”

you swallowed shakily. he almost cooed at how your glittery lips quivered, how tears made your lovely eyes shine.

“what’re you gonna do with it? w-what do you want from me?”

“hah,” he snorted, smiling for only a second before dropping it. “asking a good question for once, that’s surprising. got your brains fucked back into you by that loser? i need ya to do a couple things for me.”

he suddenly tugged at the ends of your hair, balling your tresses up in his fist. you whimpered at the sharp sting of pain, and he smiled cruelly. his face lowered above yours, breaths mixing.

“you’re gonna get on that bed and let me fuck your brains right back outta you like a good girl.”

after that night, he basically treated you like his personal servant. except, he didn’t make you do much for him. “don’t touch my shit. don’t want your filthy self staining my belongings, you got that?” he’d claim.

how he thanked all that was holy for the invention of cameras and sextapes. he could make you do just about anything for him and you’d have to oblige because you don’t want anyone seeing your pure facade shatter. keisuke knew from firsthand experience that you were just a slut at your very core, and he never forgot to remind you.

he’d be so brash. in the middle of spending time with your friends, he’d practically grab you by the scruff of your neck. “oi, guys. need this dumbass for a bit,” he’d harden his tone while speaking to you next, “come with me.”

you’d have no choice but to follow along, acknowledging the pitiful glances a couple of the guys would send you. and in the following minutes, you’d find yourself on your knees in the middle of a dirty alleyway, choking on the raven-haired devil’s pierced cock like it was the last thing you’d eat. what a mess he’d turned you into, over the span of just a few weeks. you couldn’t comprehend the gratification that only you could give him. no one else could hold a goddamn candle to you. keisuke’s favourite toy, but he’d rather skin himself than admit it. he had a reputation to hold up and a pretty girl to torture, after all.

he’d rarely be gentle with you, if ever. he fucked you behind a toman meeting spot once, while the gathering was going on. up against the grimy wall or bent over his bike, you couldn’t quite remember. both, you think. you’re not sure because your brain was so fuzzy from how full he made you feel. he certainly had the size to back up his audacity. he was hissing at you to keep quiet, but didn’t even bother covering your mouth. no, his greedy hands were occupied with your tits, manhandling and fondling like they were made of dough. to him, they basically were.

he hadn’t taken you out on any dates. if it was ever just the two of you, it was going to be a hook-up, with a mind-numbing amount of pain and pleasure. usually, he’d come to your house, with or without your permission. he’d fuck you until you’re weeping as much as your pussy is, lick at your tears and spit in your mouth. he stayed over once or twice, laughed to himself at how you went out of your way to make him pancakes in the morning. even when he was treating you like a grain of dirt underneath his boot, you were so sweet. it was so cute. especially when he called your cooking disgusting but still proceeded to wolf it down. after that, he asked — forced — you to cook breakfast for him each time he’d come over.

it left you with a mess of emotions every time you saw him in your abode. he looked out of place but made himself right at home. seeing him brushing his teeth with your toothbrush in the morning, clad in just some low-hanging sweatpants and a goddamn cross necklace shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did. you scolded him, only barely keeping arousal out of your angry tone. he didn’t give a shit, though. don’t think he doesn’t notice the way you stare at his massive arms.

one of his favourite things to do every time he came over was pin you to the counter as soon as you were done or while you were cooking. especially when it was for him. did you really expect keisuke baji not to fuck you on the counter when you were dressed in such provocative clothes, let alone cooking for him like you’re his wife? he hates that idea, and at the same time wants it badly. you’re so frustratingly cute.

he doesn’t visit you much, though. you look forward to meeting him to the point it’s pathetic, and you hate yourself for it. what’s so damn good about being fucked by some burly, mean delinquent with long black hair, and a broad frame, and… an entrancing caramel gaze, and… and a sickeningly good rhythm and a voice that— oh, stop it! you can’t be swooning for a goddamn bully like him!

when you’re out and about, keisuke barely even acknowledges you. he doesn’t look at you when you’re talking, maybe an occasional roll of his eyes, but he’ll practically ignore your existence unless he wants to humiliate you in a different way. he’ll even pretend to forget your name sometimes.

“hey, baji, have you seen [name] anywhere?”

“who?”

“[name], are— are you not friends with her?”

“nah. don’t know who that is.”

“i’m here!”

“[name]! thank goodness, i was looking for you.”

“oh, this [name]. should’ve specified it was her. the dumb chick who can’t seem to keep her ass under her skirt.”

“excuse me?”

“hm?”

“uh… i-i’m just gonna go. [name], mikey needs you. he’s over there.”

it makes your blood boil, how keisuke so openly degrades you. and at the same time, you can’t get enough of it.

you can’t get enough of how he’ll keep a vibrator inside your panties and have the remote expertly tucked in his pocket while you’re having dinner with your friends. the pink object is nestled perfectly against your clit, and you’re struggling not to roll your eyes back. keisuke, the asshole he is, will turn up the settings too high for comfort as soon as you try joining the conversation. you’ll never have a good day with this man around. he won’t reveal a damn thing, too, so everyone except him is concerned about you when you’re trying so hard to hold in your moans.

one night he’ll have his face buried between your tits, filthy groans erupting from his mouth as he drills into your soaking cunt, the next afternoon he’ll shove his broad shoulder against yours with enough force to make you trip and not give you a damn glance afterward. you don’t know it, but his eyes are actually trained on you all the time. he’s just got incredible instinct and a poker face.

he’ll kick your legs apart and flip your skirt up out of nowhere, take you on his bike and drive too fast for your poor heart to handle. when you show any fear during that death ride, he’ll scoff and call you a pussy. in reality, he just craves the way you cling onto him so tightly. like he’s your lifeline, which he is when you’re on the verge of crashing on his motorcycle.

you can’t tell if he’s repulsed by you or wants you. it’s a terrifying mixture of both, you bring out the sadist in him and he’s not going to deny himself of that pleasure. he’s not a monk, for fuck’s sake. he’ll take what he want, whether you like it or not. he’s got a hunch you do, considering the way you stare at him with the most intoxicating look of fear and desire and look away the instant he catches you.

stupid, stupid girl. thinking you’re so slick. he knows you far too well. he knows when you’re flustered, when you’re trying to defy him and failing miserably, knows how to draw tears from you and he knows how to hit that sweet spot in your pussy over and over until you make his wide back bleed with scratches. he’ll smack you for leaving them, informing you that he’s not your boyfriend and you shouldn’t leave marks on him like he is, but the way he wears them like a badge of honor contradicts him fully. his hypocrisy pissed you off so badly because he leaves bruises and bites on you all the time, and he doesn’t see you complaining about it, does he? well… he does. but unlike him, you can’t do a damn thing about it. you’ll just have to take it all like a champ because you’re his now. that knowledge makes your heart ache, and… maybe between your legs, too.

#𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚖 𝚍𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚛𝚎: 𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 #. † ݁keisuke baji #baji #baji keisuke #baji x reader #♱ ruru’s rambles #baji smut #baji keisuke smut #baji x reader smut #› .🪦ˎˊ˗#𓏲ּ filth

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gallowdancingmuck · 2 days ago

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Analyzing W(e)yler Part Three:

This is a long one that focuses on Wednesday and her arc and is a little messy.

The thing that has really stuck with me since my first viewing is Morticia telling Wednesday “sometimes you get in your own way”. I think if any one line can summarize what Wednesday’s arc is all about, it is this one. Wednesday has all the brilliance she needs as well as resources to sail through life easily. I would even argue that Wednesday could fit in socially (because look how easily she made friends) but she constantly makes decisions that set her back. It could be argued it is her ego, but I genuinely think Wednesday does not think she’s better than everybody, I think she is genuinely very afraid of emotional hurt. She has been raised in a loving family and loyalty has been ingrained in her, the very worst thing that can happen to someone with this background is loss (and betrayal). I think what set Wednesday forth on this path of emotional detachment was Nero’s death.

Even if Nero is only meant to purely be a pet, imagine how traumatizing it would be to see your puppy or cat killed in front of you (she literally walked him on a leash). However I think Nero also acts as a symbol. Him being odd and a loyal pet is equivalent to her feelings towards her family, and then with him being a small scorpion he also represents innocence and outcasts. We have seen Wednesday is very protective of these things and I think she is so afraid of these things being ripped away from her she doesn’t know how to act. She’s setting herself back with this avoidance though because unfortunately, life is filled with loss. She either risks not having it all (lost potential) or losing it after she’s loved it (grief). She’s getting in the way of her own experience.

Wednesday is so caring and loyal that everybody sees it (Weems points it out in her office and Tyler/Hyde knows to mock her with his betrayal). Where she falters is she intellectualizes these feelings rather than work through them. In terms of Tyler, she does not hate him for being a murderer or a monster (she’s an Addams, she probably likes him more) she hates him (right now) for being a traitor and a liar. What we are going to hear her talk about is how he undermined her intelligence and then it’ll fall to him being weak, and then how it is unjust, and then eventually we will finally hit the core of this problem, Tyler hurt Wednesday’s feelings. Notice how she added a few superficial layers? Betrayal cannot exist without trust and I think Wednesday is going to take a long time to actually digest that fact, but she’s a smart girl, she knows that!

Looking at how she defends the underdog (Pugsley, Rowan, Eugene) Wednesday will say it’s because of what is fair. But in reality it's because she feels sympathy for them. If Wednesday was truly Machiavellian, she would know life is not fair and cut her losses and move forward, even at the expense of the underdog, but she never does. This trait of hating injustice is going to be the driving point because eventually she’ll forgive Tyler, but only in the intellectual pursuit of removing the stigma around hydes (not because the sympathy intertwines with her attachment to him, silly goose).

The Addams Family is odd and unusual and centered on the fact that the Addams are immensely loving and good people. Wednesday, despite showing love in odd ways, loves her people a lot. This care is what drives the story forward. While she is curious, her bouts of serious action are spurred when someone she loves is threatened. Pugsley is bullied, piranhas, now she's at Nevermore. Eugene gets attacked, her vitriol (no longer just curiosity) fuels her need to find the monster. Her father is arrested, she pushes herself to reconcile with her mother and make further discoveries on the Gates family. Thing is stabbed, she goes to the manor. Tyler is hurt and she goes back and reveals her cards. Her curiosity and intelligence is a great tool, but like a mathematical problem it is the same in every language and every place, decipherable once learned. Love and emotion however are contingent on specific circumstances and people, it can't ever be truly replicated. (“There are all kinds of love in the world but never the same love twice”) Enid, Eugene, Tyler, Pugsley, those are all irreplaceable to her, and that's why her love for these people is her strongest, most unique trait. That is what makes her Wednesday Addams. Her whole problem she has right now is thinking her emotions and her connections weaken her, when in reality the show proves she wouldn't have gotten anywhere without her people.

Another thing that causes her to get in her own way and she is warned about is her negativity. The nature of her being a Raven and Morticia warning against trusting Goody is really important! Ravens are predisposed to only see bad visions and circumstances. This is important because it causes Wednesday to only see a partial picture, leading her to make inaccurate assumptions and hasty decisions. Tyler plays into this because she only saw him getting manipulated and abused and being manipulative ,and she threw out her real life observations of his goodness for visions that she has been warned against trusting. I think being warned of Goody’s vengeful nature by Morticia is a sign that Wednesday is prone to letting the darkness sabotage her abilities and become impulsive.

Wednesday’s whole story seems to be based on the idea she can’t rely on only seeing the darkness in people, that is why her greatest allies are Enid, Eugene, and (previously) Tyler. All three of these people are gentle and present as pieces of light within the show and are people she doesn’t understand but truly shines with. Even think about “I did a terrible thing but I’m not a terrible person” like that’s the whole thing. Wednesday needs to learn (much like Tyler) that you can enjoy the dark and macabre, but that you can’t feed into negativity. There is a difference, and that’s how the Addams family has always been. They’ve never been negative, they’ve just been positive towards the shunned things in life. That’s what her story is!

Now, I love Jenna but I think she is so like Wednesday with her idea of “no romance”. Jenna is getting in the way of Wednesday’s story because I think Wednesday's whole arc is about her emotional development and defeating her tendency of denying the care she has for everybody. I think we have to move away from the idea that Wednesday has to be the spooky, mean, goth girl, intellectual who only pursues her career. She can be all of those things and be autonomous and still dedicate herself to family and love! Again guys, this is literally what the Addams Family has been about since its creation. You can be alternative and spooky and still love people and be happy! None of this has to be an either or situation. Do not let Wednesday limit herself based on a patriarchal idea that love only comes for women who conform and women who do fall in love are somehow vapid or less than!

I know a huge criticism of Wednesday has been how it messed with the Addams Family dynamic and made Wednesday act angsty towards her family, but if this is the arc they are following, it actually makes sense! Every iteration Wednesday has loved her family and in two of them she was a little romantic, it would be out of character to only make this a horror series.

#wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #morticia addams #analysis #the addams family

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snugglybunny11 · 2 days ago

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christmas shopping w/ sevika 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

pairing! gf!sevika (kinda older sevika but it’s up to you) x fem!reader ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

about! christmas shopping in a mall with gf!sevika ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

cw! just fluff, mild cursing ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

word count! 855 ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

an: yes… it may be February but shhhhh…. somewhat in inspired by this https://janitorai.com/characters/5c47c8e9-34b8-4e54-9dea-9ec3fd0957a8_character-sevika bot on j.ai. is this self indulgent, yes! do i care, no!

you absolutely loved the holidays. the movies, the smell of freshly baked christmas cookies, the overall cozy feel. plus, it gave an excuse to go out shopping. sevika on the other hand… not so much. sure, she didn’t think that christmas was horrible, but it was something foreign that she really only started celebrating because of you. still, she’ll indulge your every whim just to get a little smile from you, even if she groans and complains while doing it. you two were in a mall, surrounded by a sea of other shoppers looking for gifts for their family members. overwhelming was didn’t give it justice. but, like a kid in a candy shop, you held sevika’s hand and tried to navigate the crowds from store after store. she rolled her eyes every time you’d add another bag filled with stuff on her arm, but couldn’t really be annoyed.

“ooh, sevika look! it’s a little bakery! can we get something, please?”

you gave sevika your best puppy eyes, even though you didn’t really have to. sevika would do anything you asked her. sevika just grunted, allowing herself to get pulled along with a small smile on her dark lips. the food court was a little less crowded than the rest of the mall, families briefly stopping their shopping to eat. you stood in line in front of the bakery, your eyes wide and excited as you looked at the menu. pink gingerbread cookies, strawberry cupcakes with peppermint icing, just copious amounts of sweet, pink treats and drinks. you looked up at sevika and pointed at something on the menu.

“what about the candy cane cookies and… ooh, a hot chocolate bomb! what do you want babes?”

sevika’s eyes narrowed as she looked at the bright pink menu, squinting to read the words. sevika wasn’t one for fancy food, or pastries in general. so she picked something basic, something simple.

“those stupid gingerbread cookies or whatever.” she grumbled.

your hands wrapped around sevika’s bicep, looking up at her and giggling softly. as you got up to the counter, you waved and said.

“hi! can we get two candy cane cookies, one hot chocolate bomb, and a gingerbread cookie please?”

the girl behind the counter smiled and nodded as she selected the items on the register. she turned it around and the total was $21.67.

“cash or card?” she said, a hint of warmth in her voice.

sevika’s eyes widened at the total, “22 dollars for some cookies and hot chocolate? good lord…”

even as she said it, she was pulling her credit card out of her wallet and handed it to the cashier. once the cashier handed sevika her card, she gestured over to the pick up counter. you both leaned against a wall for a few minutes as you waited, talking about how you’re going to wrap the presents while sevika just smiled at your enthusiasm.

“number 189!” another cashier’s voice rang out over the cacophony of chatter from hungry patrons. you disentangled your hands from sevika’s arm and went to get the pastries. you came back with an excited smile on your face, holding a tiny bag and a paper cup filled with hot milk. sevika smirked, jerking her head towards the groups of tables in the food court.

“come on, Santa’s elf, let’s go sit. all this shit you made me buy is heavy.” sevika said, her voice rumbling through her chest.

you walked to a small table in a more secluded part of the food court, sevika pulling a chair right next to the one she was planning on sitting in. you laughed a little as you sat down, one leg crossed on the other. you teared the sticker off the bag and opened it, sighing as the warm, enticing scent of sweetness wafted through the air. sevika pulled out a few napkins from the dispenser on the table, putting two in front of you and two in front of herself. you took out the little parchment baggie with sevika’s gingerbread cookie and put it on her napkin, then taking out your own cookies. you eagerly plopped the hot chocolate bomb in the milk, watching the chocolate coating slowly melt and mix with the milk. you picked up one of the cookies and bit into it, moaning as you tasted the peppermint and strawberry flavor with a delicious buttercream frosting. you turned your head over to sevika, watching her take a small nibble of her gingerbread cookie. you could see the look on her face as she tasted it, trying to act like it wasn’t good, but you saw right through her. teasingly, you poked her cheek as she chewed, giggling.

“how is it sev? is it good?”

sevika tried her hardest to keep her face one of indifference, “it’s alright, way too fucking sweet.”

you just giggled a bit more as you pressed a small peck to her cheek, leaving a tiny bit of icing. even in the crowded mall, you felt a sense of contentment. because you were with sevika. and really, that’s all that you could ask for.

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aquarius-johnny · 3 days ago

Text

The Sweetest Hello | Jeong Jaehyun

genre: fluff, smut | word count: 5.1k | deadly sins series | master list navi warnings: nonidol!jaehyun, tatted!reader, afab!reader, pet names (baby, my girl), pornographic ideas, unestablished relationship (but there’s a lot of love between the two), unprotected sex, oral (f! and m! receiving), praising, squirting, p in v, pull out method, fluffy, smutty summary: after meeting him over a year ago on a dating app, you finally see him in person. | deadly sin: lust a/n: part two of promise? promise. cr. border by @dollywons, seven deadly sins prompts by @joelsmochi

⌞ pinterest board ⌝ ≫ concept photos

“Are you sure you still want me to come?” You ask Jaehyun as you zip up your suitcase for your trip. “Let me know if you’re having second thoughts.”

Jaehyun pauses the video game he’s playing, giving you his undivided attention. He cocks his head to the left, trying to read your expression. “Do you still want to come?” He questions, grabbing the phone into his hand, pacing his apartment before setting his phone on his kitchen counter. He leans forward onto his marbled counter top, waiting for your response.

Grabbing your phone, you fall into your mattress before letting out a sigh. Holding your phone at arm's length, you begin to feel a nervous bubble form in the pit of your stomach. “Yeah, I still want to but I’m a little nervous,” you let out a disappointed sigh. “Like what if you suddenly realize that you don’t like me anymore?” You force a playful tone, but you sense that Jaehyun reads right through it.

“Is that what you’re really scared of?” Jaehyun reaches above his phone, grabbing a glass in his upper cupboards before filling it up with water.

You turn to your side, watching Jaehyun’s actions. “Yeah, a little.” You let out. “I know it sounds dumb, but like what if -“ you sit up from your position, still holding your phone out at arm’s length. “What if we fuck and then you realize your imagination was so much better?” You let out a small giggle, clearly pulling his leg with that line.

Jaehyun shakes his head with a small smile dancing on his lips. “I can assure you,” he takes a sip of his drink. “That will not happen.” He makes his way back to his couch, placing his phone on the coffee table in front of him. His elbows rest on his knees, thinking about what to say next. “As for your real concern,” he clears his throat. “We’ve been talking to each other for over a year. If I didn’t like you as much as I do, then I wouldn’t want you anywhere near me. I honestly think you don’t have to worry about me not liking you, I think I have to worry about you not liking me.”

You playfully roll your eyes, giving him a small pout because you know that he's right. He’s mentioned wanting to see you, as early as six months into first meeting you. You’ve shared things that would probably make him leave you in the dust, but he didn’t. Deep in your heart, you knew Jaehyun is also a good friend — a friend who just so happens to also be sexually attracted to you.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head too much,” he lets out, pulling you away from your deep thoughts. “I have a strong feeling that my crush on you will probably deepen after seeing you in person.”

“You have a crush on me?” You playfully and dramatically gasp before sticking your tongue out to tease the man through your phone screen. He’s told you many, many times before of this brewing crush he has on you and every single time he does, you act surprise as if it’s your first time hearing it.

An amused smile appears on his face as he shakes his head. “You play too much,” he shyly retorts before taking another sip of his water. “Still having second thoughts about coming?”

You give him a relaxed smile. “No second thoughts. I think I’ll still be nervous, but more of an excited nervous.” You pause, looking at Jaehyun. “Thank you for calming my anxiety.”

“Thank you for keeping your promise,” he cheekily grins before returning to his video game.

You scan the crowd to find the man you’ve spent your entire flight thinking about. Every nerve in your body works overtime, silently cursing yourself for drinking a caffeinated drink during your flight.

A familiar tone rings and you frantically search your purse for your phone. Your favorite person’s picture pops up on your screen, causing you to smile.

“Hey,” you let out, a lot shakier than intended, but you blame the caffeine that has you jittery.

“Hey, I think I see you. You’re wearing a white top, right?” You look down at your shirt, double checking that his description is correct.

“Yeah, where are you?” Your eyes search the busy airport.

“On your left.”

You turn to your left and find a man smiling as he makes his way toward you, his dimpled smile something you’ve seen almost every night for over a year. Your heart swells with excitement and your stomach fills with nervous butterflies. He slowly brings his phone down from his ear before engulfing you in a warm hug. His hand pets the back of your head and you bury your cheek into his chest. Jaehyun’s chin rests on top of your head, his position lingering longer than expected.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he mumbles before giving the top of your head a soft kiss, then pulling back and looking down at you. “You’re a lot smaller than I imagined.”

You playfully hit his chest, your cheesy smile never leaving your lips. “I’m glad I’m finally here, it’s good to see you.” You take another opportunity to give him a hug, wrapping your arms around his waist. All he does is let out a chuckle, squeezing your body into his, not wanting to let you go.

You pull back, smiling up at him, almost forgetting how to speak.

“Here, let me help you.” Before you could object, he grabs the handle of your suitcase with one hand and your fingers in his other hand. Your hand looks even daintier in comparison to his, making you feel smaller than you actually are. He pulls you towards the exit and you happily trail behind him. An older man helps put your suitcases in the trunk of what looks like a taxi while Jaehyun opens the car door for you, gesturing you to step inside before he slides in right next to you. He lets the driver know where he’s headed and soon enough, you’re on the road to his place.

You snake your arm under his bicep, holding on to it during the car ride while laying your head on his broad shoulder.

“How was the flight here?” He asks, resting his hand on your knee, circling your skin with his thumb. While you would always choose a more comfortable outfit on long flights like the one you endured, you wanted to look presentable for Jaehyun — hence the short skirt you opted for instead of comfortable leggings you would’ve worn otherwise.

“Hm, it was nice,” you smile up at him. “It was my first time in first class. The legroom is to die for.”

“That’s good,” he chuckles. “I’m glad you got to experience it. I remember you saying you’ve never been, so I thought it would be a nice experience for you.” He moves the arm you’re holding onto behind your back, leaning into the leather seat of the car. His hand squeezes the side of your hip before he guides your body to lean into his side again.

“Thank you for that,” you let out. “You really didn’t have to consider that you paid for everything else on this trip.”

Jaehyun lets out a tiny hum, bringing his lips to your forehead. “Anything for my girl,” he mutters before placing a soft kiss against your skin. Heat rushes to your cheeks and you feel yourself melt under his touch.

The car comes to a stop and the driver steps out, indicating you’ve arrived at your destination. Jaehyun opens the door, steps out and you follow behind him, your hand not letting go of his. The driver pulls your suitcases out of the trunk of the car and you both thank him before heading into the building that leads to the apartment you’ve only seen through the phone screen.

Upon entering his apartment, you both take your shoes off and you find yourself idly grabbing Jaehyun’s hand as your eyes wander through his place. You didn’t want to let him go, already feeling a slight sting in your heart thinking about the pain you’ll feel leaving him to go back home.

“Can I get a tour?” You ask, turning to Jaehyun who is already looking at you. He flashes an endearing smile.

“Yes, but first,“ he pauses, bringing his hand to your jaw. “I've been waiting far too long to finally do this.” He tilts your chin up, ever so slightly, to look up at him. His lips press against yours — so soft, so intimate, and everything you wanted. You let go of his hand, opting to sling your arms over his shoulders and his hand finding their way to your hips. He pulls you closer into him as your lips move in sync with his, your hands playing with the hairs on the base of his nape. He scoops you up, interlocking his fingers together under you, as each of your knees place themselves on either side of his waist. Your lips never leave his and he begins moving around his apartment.

“Kitchen,” he says between kisses. “Living room,” he lets out again as you peek at his furniture through your lashes before giving him your undivided attention once more. He pushes the bathroom door open with his foot, placing you on the bathroom counter before pulling away from your lips.

A dizzy feeling overwhelms you; his presence so intoxicating. The fact you’re physically feeling him after so long send you into euphoria.

“Bathroom?” You breathe out, taking a look around the room before your eyes falling back on the man in front of you.

He hums, placing a soft kiss on your neck while his hands squeeze your hips. His lips trail kisses against your neck, leading up to your jaw, before hovering over your lips. You lean forward to kiss him only for him to playfully pull back, teasing you. You whimper leaves your lips, impatient with the game he’s playing.

“Go ahead and shower, we have dinner reservations in two hours and I know how you take pride in taking your time whenever you get ready.” He playfully pokes your nose before placing a soft kiss on the tip of it, openly sharing in the past how it’s one of his favorite features on you.

“But what about your bedroom?” You ask before he walks toward the door, causing you to hop off the counter.

“You can see it after your shower. I’ll bring your things there. Want me to start putting things away?” He asks, leaning his left shoulder against the door frame, slightly crossing his ankle over the other.

“You just want to see what I brought, don’t you?” You sassily remark, playfully scrunching your brows together.

Jaehyun softly giggles to himself before closing the gap between the two of you. He places another soft kiss against your forehead, before leaving you alone in the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

In defeat, you strip off the clothes you’re wearing and throw it into the laundry basket behind the door. You’re completely naked, feeling utterly vulnerable knowing that the man you’ve been talking to for over a year is in the room next to you rummaging through your belongings. Setting the shower’s temperature to your liking, you step in, enjoying the water pressure against your skin. The heat of the shower fills the room and fogs the shower doors and the mirrors. You hear the bathroom door open slightly before quickly closing again. You peek out of the shower to see that Jaehyun left a towel for you on the bathroom counter.

After your shower, you tightly wrap the white towel around your body and step out of the room. You walk over to the bedroom, slightly opening the door to find Jaehyun’s tall figure refolding your shirts and creating a pile of it on his bed. You take a look around his room, taking note of how minimal it is — no personal photos or art on his walls.

“I set up your makeup bag on my desk,” he says, pointing in the direction of where his desk is — the same place where he booked your flight right after having phone sex with you. “You’re sweet, thank you,” you smile, giving his arm a little squeeze as you make your way to the table.

You do your hair and makeup all while Jaehyun puts your things away before he decides to get ready himself. “Oh, by the way,” he lets out as he throws his towel over his shoulder. “I think you should wear that dress tonight.” He points to the short red dress laying on his bed and you turn to look at it, smiling to yourself — as you packed that dress, knowing Jaehyun would love it.

“Okay,” you smile. “I trust you.”

Jaehyun lovingly pets the back of your head before heading out of the room and into the bathroom. You both finish up getting ready and head out for the night.

“Dinner was great,” you smile as you watch Jaehyun push his key into the lock of his front door. His jacket looks huge on you, but you didn’t mind and neither did he. In fact, he adores the way you look in his clothes, mentally noting to sneak some of his clothes into your luggage before you leave.

“I’m glad you liked it.” He pushes the door open, letting you in first before he trails behind you.

You begin to take off your heels, using the wall to help you balance as you lift a leg, letting out soft 'dammit' when you nearly fall over. Jaehyun places a hand on your lower back, helping you keep your balance. As soon as you throw your heels to the side, the height difference between the two of you is fairly significant.

“So, how’re you feeling?” Jaehyun asks, helping you take off his jacket. “Still nervous around me?”

You bite down on your bottom lip, shyly avoiding eye contact. Jaehyun tries to meet your eyes, smiling from ear to ear. While dinner was amazing, you have to admit he did make you nervous; something so foreign compared to other partners you had previously. Every time he touches you, even a touch as innocent as a hand hold or a graze of a finger, your heart flutters in excitement.

“There’s something about you that always makes me nervous, but not like I’m scared, kind of nervous,” you pause, your eyes flickering between his eyes. “More like butterflies in my tummy, kind of nervous.”

“You know,” he lets out, his hands sliding up your thighs before stopping right below your ass. “There’s something about your honesty that drives me crazy.”

His hands push up into you, causing you to yelp in surprise, followed by a loud squeal and a giggle. His hands move up your dress, pulling it over your head and throwing it near the front door. In nothing but your matching undergarments, Jaehyun throws you over his shoulder in one swift move and carries you into the bedroom, tossing you onto his soft mattress.

He hovers over your body, his thigh placed between your knees. Pushing your baby hairs away from your forehead, he places tender kisses against your skin, trailing down to your neck. “Is it okay if we-“ he breathes against your collarbone.

“Mhm,” you reassure, finishing his sentence. Tugging on his shirt, you urge him to take it off. His hot breath against your skin causes this visceral response to move your hips against his thigh, the fabric of his pants roughly pressing against your clothed core. Your perfectly manicured nails run up and down through the back of his head as he presses his lips against yours. Your pretty lipstick is messily smearing against your lips and his at the same time, but neither of you care.

Pulling his shirt over his head, he tosses it onto his bedroom floor. His thumb runs against your bottom lip, slightly tugging on it to see your inner lip tattoo in person. The typewriter font peaks through as he gently pulls your lip down, exposing the word 'kiss.' Smirking at the sight, he does exactly that. His hand cups your jaw before hungrily attacking your lips.

“I can’t believe you’re actually here,” he breathes. He sucks on the base of your neck, occasionally biting down on your skin, sending waves of excitement through your body. “I can finally touch you, kiss you, fuck you.”

You smile at his words. Your hand makes its way to the waistband of his pants, slithering your hand into it, squeezing his semi hard cock in your hand. “Does that feel good?” You ask when his forehead presses against your collarbone and a satisfied sigh leaves his lips.

“You have no idea,” he groans, roughly pulling down your bra. You hear the strap around your shoulders snap.

“Jaehyun!” You squealed.

He smiles at your reaction, licking his lips at the sight of your breasts spilling out of the cups holding them together. “I’ll take you to buy another one,” he quietly lets out before he begins to nip the skin around your chest, licking and sucking it greedily. “I promise.”

You roll your eyes at him, squeezing his shaft harder before stroking it over his underwear.

His lips trails wet kisses down your chest and abdomen before stopping at the waistband of your cute laced underwear. A mischievous smirk lifts in the corner of Jaehyun’s mouth before you hear your fabric rip, exposing your aroused heat although the waistband stays intact.

“Oops,” Jaehyun chuckles, insincerity dripping from his words. “I guess we need to buy a new set altogether, huh?”

You prop yourself with your elbows, narrowing your eyes at the man between your thighs. “You’re a menace,” you grin.

“Can I?” He whispers, lips centimeters away from your core. “I’ve been dying to taste you.” His eyes widen innocently, silently begging for your approval.

You nod before throwing your head back from the pleasure. The tip of his tongue laps over your clit, moving down to your hole, before moving back up and repeating the process. His tongue so steady and smooth, a string of profanities escape your lips. There’s something about seeing Jaehyun’s face buried between your thighs after so many nights of dreaming of it is pure ecstasy. He moves slowly, taking his time and enjoying the taste you have to offer. His eyes peek through his lashes, watching you as you watch him — your lips part, letting out quiet moans as he laps over your nub over and over again. He spits a pool of saliva onto your clit, using his fingers to spread it against your folds, spreading them apart before sucking on your clit. Your moans grow louder and louder while your body jerks under him, almost trying to squirm away from his mouth only for his arms to pin your waist against the mattress. Your fingers messily tug on his hair, causing him to groan against your soaking heat.

“Jaehyun,” you moan. “Keep going, I’m so close.”

Jaehyun hums against you and he does as you ask; sucking on your clit in a rhythmic pattern while enjoying your fingers as they tug on his messy hair. His fingers digging into your thighs in an attempt to keep you close to him.

The sight of him causes your jaw to fall open from the pleasure he’s giving you. Jaehyun’s eyes darken, his sole purpose is to make you feel good.

“Fuck,” you gasp. “I’m coming!” You cry, throwing your head back and allowing your body to fall on your back as Jaehyun slows his movements after using his tongue to catch your high. Jaehyun gives you a soothing kiss against your inner thighs, before using the back of his hand to wipe your arousal from his lips.

Feverishly grabbing him by the back of his neck, you pull Jaehyun down to your lips, using your other hand to cup his jaw as you kiss him. Your mind is hazy and your body moves on autopilot as your lips move with Jaehyun’s lips. Slightly pulling away, you feel him smile against your cheek.

“I wanna taste you,” you blush. Your heart thumps against your chest at the thought of finally seeing his length in person.

Jaehyun quickly nods before standing and pulling down the fabric around his waist. You sink to your knees in front of him, petting his shaft through his underwear.

“Can I film you?” Jaehyun sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. “I just-“ he stammers. “I wanna make sure I can look back on it when I miss you.”

“Of course,” you smile as he fumbles to grab his phone. You continue to stroke his length over his underwear until the flash of his phone camera appears.

You pull down the waistband of his underwear down to his ankles, his erection springing up excitedly. It's definitely a lot lengthier in person and you’ll be the first to admit that the custom dildo you have of him doesn’t compare to the real thing.

You kitten lick his leaking tip. Your mouth wrapping around his head before sinking him into your mouth, letting it hit the back of your throat. He lets out a low groan, entangling his knuckles with your hair. The gagging noises you’re making is enough to send Jaehyun over the edge. Pulling your lips back, you glide them up and down his shaft before pumping his veiny cock with your hands.

“Just like that,” he coos. “You’re so good at this.”

You smile against his shaft before sticking your tongue out and slapping his heavy length against it.

“Shit,” he whimpers loudly before throwing his head back in pleasure. He grabs the base of his cock to mimic your actions, slapping his tip against your tongue before sliding himself down your throat. “Look at me, baby.” He orders and you do, eyes locked directly at the camera lens as you move your head back and forth. His hand guides your head with the movements, pushing your head against the base of his shaft and causing tears to prickle out of the outer corner of your eyes. You could feel your mascara run down your face and you were sure your eyeliner is a complete mess with how deep he’s shoving his cock down your throat.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty.” He wipes under your eyes, smearing your mascara and eye liner even more. “You looked all fucked out and we haven’t even started yet.” You see a smirk tug on the corner of his lip, clearly enjoying the view.

His hand grabs the roots of your hair, holding you in place before thrusting his hips into you. Slow and steady at first before he picks up the pace, fucking your mouth until the sounds of you chocking on his cock fills the room.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He asks, his words so lustful, you feel sheer embarrassment as you nod your head. “Use your words, baby. Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Y-yes, please,” you attempt to answer as his cock is stuffed in your mouth, only for your words to be muffled against him.

“That’s my girl,” he smiles before putting his phone down for a second. “C’mere.”

Pulling himself out of your mouth, he helps you up from the floor before bringing your lips to his. He turns you, your bare back pressed against his warm chest. His hands grip your upper arms and he guides you back on the mattress. You’re pushed on all fours and he traces your lower back tattoo with his thumb. Lifting your hips to align your needy hole with his tip, you watch him through the mirror that's strategically placed parallel to his bed. He holds his phone in his hand, pointing it towards your entrance.

“I’ve been thinking about this more than I should,” he shares, slowly sinking himself into you.

Your fingers grab the sheets under you, groaning at the stretch as your pretty hole adjusts to Jaehyun’s size. After gently pumping into you, the sting is replaced with pleasure and Jaehyun bottoms out inside of you, your selfish cunt swallowing him.

“Harder,” you mutter as you use your hands to hold your body up. You lift your head, watching him fuck you from behind through his full length mirror. His hand is placed on your lower back, helping you arch it as he thrusts into you. He does as you ask, penetrating you slow and hard while snaking his hand against your throat and pulling you to his chest.

“Look how pretty you are,” he whispers in your ear, his hold on your jaw forces you to look at yourself in the mirror. Your nails digging into his forearm. “Look at my pretty girl, god, you take me so well. I could do this all night.”

“Jaehyun,” you whimper. “Feels too good.”

Jaehyun throws his phone to the side after he stops his recording, already deciding he’s gotten enough footage for the night. Gathering your hair behind your shoulders, he buries his face into your neck as both arms hold you up to his chest. You’re trapped in his arms and all you could feel is his thrusts speeding up — the noise of his pelvis slapping your skin fills the room. Your jaw falls open and your eyes roll back as you feel his tip grazing against your sensitive spot inside of you — something you didn’t know you had.

You fall onto your stomach, stars appearing in your line of vision as your body is flipped over, placing you on your back. Your thighs are spread apart while Jaehyun realigns himself to your hole, again. You move your hips upwards, helping him fill you up. Tiny and soft cries fill his room as he pulls your hips closer to him before brutally fucking you, your walls clenching around his hard length.

As he hovers over you, he holds himself up with a hand on either side of your face. Beads of sweat form on Jaehyun’s forehead, his brows furrowing as he tries his best not to release too quickly. The sight of you moving up and down as he penetrates into you makes his cock harder than it already is. You pull him down to your lips, kissing him as he fucks you, moaning and groaning into his mouth letting him know exactly who is making you feel good. Your tongue rolls over his before tugging on his bottom lip.

Jaehyun lets out a frustrated grunt before he pushes your knees to your chest, practically folding your body in half and making you smaller under him than you already are.

“You feel too good,” Jaehyun laughs, realigning himself before shoving his hard cock into you. He begins to pull out before quickly and roughly sinking himself into you over and over again.

“Please,” you beg. “Your cock feels so good inside of me.”

Jaehyun smiles down at you, his dimples prominent and causing your heart to swell with a dangerous mixture of love and lust. He slams his hips into you, causing you to yelp in surprise. His tip kisses your sweet spot inside of you, inching you closer and closer to your orgasm. His movements don’t let up and you begin to feel an urge that’s so unfamiliar to you, you weren’t sure what's happening but you know it feels good.

“D-don’t stop!” You cry out, practically begging him.

Jaehyun’s dick accidentally slips out of your slippery cunt and liquid begins to squirt out of you, soaking the sheets under you and spraying onto Jaehyun’s pelvis. Your body trembles after your release and Jaehyun’s eyes widen in disbelief.

“D-did you just -” He smiles, amazed.

You cover your face with your hands, embarrassed by your actions. Jaehyun lovingly moves your hands from your face before interlocking your fingers with his.

“You’re okay,” he coos, fluttering your cheeks with sweet kisses.

You nod your head, helping him align his tip with your sensitive hole before interlocking your fingers with his once again. His movements are sensual and deep, genuinely making love with you.

“I’m gonna cum,” he breathes. Right before his release, he pulls his long length out of you and strokes himself over your stomach. Hot, thick, white ropes paint over your soft skin.

Jaehyun falls onto his back next to you. You scoop a bit of his release onto your finger before placing your finger into your mouth, tasting him.

“Wait, hold on,” he lets out quickly searching for his phone. Once he finds it, he stands above you, taking pictures of your naked body with nothing but his release covering you. You repeat what you did, tasting him again as Jaehyun takes photos of you. “I know I say this a lot, but damn, you’re so hot.” He lets out before grabbing tissue off his desk and wiping his release off you. “Are you okay?” He asks, lying next to you, pulling you into him.

You throw a leg over his bare thigh, cuddling into his chest. Jaehyun’s thumb rubs the skin of your shoulder blade, comforting you after being a lot rougher than he expected. “I’m fine,” you sigh, pleased with yourself. “I’m sorry I made a mess. That was my first time squirting, I didn’t know I could do that.”

Jaehyun smiles before kissing your forehead. “Please don’t apologize. It’s was unexpected but it was really -“

“Hot?”

Jaehyun playfully rolls his eyes at you. “Yes, hot. Very, very hot. I hope I can make you do it again.”

You let out a small chuckle before silence falls between the two of you. Jaehyun’s fingers pet your hair, clearly trying to steady his heart rate.

“Baby?” Jaehyun whispers, pressing his cheek against the top of your head.

You hum, before closing your eyes, focusing on his heartbeat.

“I love you,” he coos, clearly nervous. “I’m glad you’re here.”

You lift your head in shock. “What did you say?” Your brows furrow, wanting to make sure your ears aren’t playing tricks on you.

Jaehyun sits up, his lips inches away from yours. “I said I’m glad you’re here.”

“No, no,” you laugh. “Before that.”

“Hm? I called you baby.”

“Jaehyun!” You whine.

Jaehyun lays back down, pulling you back onto his chest. His chest moves up and down and he stifles his laughter.

You sit up. “Say it again,” you poke his ribs, causing him to jerk to the side. “Say it again, please.”

Jaehyun sits up next to you, eyes locked onto yours. “I.” He kisses your left cheek. “Love.” He kisses your right cheek. “You.” He plants a tender kiss on your lips. He lays on his back again, cheekily smiling up at you.

You smile at his words before laying your head back on his bare chest. “I love you, too.”

#j*#deadly sins series #jeong jaehyun #nct jaehyun #nct jaehyun smut #jh:smut #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 x you #nct x reader

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paranormaljones · 5 months ago

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I'm rereading Lockwood & Co. and I just started The Screaming Staircase and. the thought of little 8-year-old Lucy Carlyle walking around in an agency uniform actually makes me so sick to my stomach.

#sometimes while reading something i come across an image that i have to immediately block out of my head #and this time it's thinking about that little girl on the front lines #and it being NORMAL #and her being PROUD OF IT #THAT'S ANOTHER LEVEL OF BRAINWASHING #'it seemed a fine thing to be part of this select and important company'#'walking tall in our mustard-coloured jackets'#'with the great Mr Jacobs at our head'#those were child soldiers enlisted by adults #and they were convinced to be proud of it #at 8 years old #it's the hunger games in a different font #someone hold me i'm thinking about little Lucy Carlyle again #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lucy carlyle #the screaming staircase

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mollyrolls · 2 months ago

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highlights from my notes app. 30/79 and i couldn’t even finish the last chapter

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ AKAASHI KEIJI

undone ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

she would do anything for her best friend. including, but not limited to, pretending to be his girlfriend, so he can get the attention of the girl of his dreams, as much as it hurts

PAIRING: akaashi x fem reader

STATUS: complete

TAGS/WARNING: unrequited love, fake dating, angst, pining, friends to lovers, university au, language, alcohol use, warnings may change

MDNI: will contain adult content (marked in chapter)

TAGLIST: complete this form to be added

PREVIEW: real

CHAPTER ONE: evidence

CHAPTER TWO: complications

CHAPTER THREE: close

CHAPTER FOUR: truths

CHAPTER FIVE: plans

CHAPTER SIX: act

-> SEQUEL

#reading this bc p*riod cramps are keeping me up and i want to die. surely this wont go badly #He captioned it: My pretty girl” kms #iwaizumi: i’m sorry to text you so much. i’m just bad at stopping myself” kms #I’m obsessed with you.” ow #she wants to believe her and everything she says.” there are so many pains in my body this might be the first unique experience i’ve had.#i think i’m getting a stomach ulcer /srs #She is sorry. She feels sorry for him.” ok the best analogy i can think of is in lying on a bed of knives and every line is just a little #bit of pressure that pushes me deeper into the knives so it’s not this overwhelming unbearable pain it’s just slow and uncomfortable and i #want it to stop but it’s beyond my control now also i feel blood dripping down my back #Yeah but I give a shit about you” a tall tall wall looms in front of me #after weeks of nonstop contact won’t answer her texts.” what if i ripped my stomach out #No” Akaashi says. “Can I kiss you?” i think i’m being cooked like a rotisserie chicken #ok ok this actually might be too much for me i’m going to be so sick please #let me paint the picture. it’s 5:40 am. i’ve been up since 3 battling the worst cramps i’ve had all year. been stuck in my head abt my own #irl crush dilemma. this fic is abt akaashi keiji. who i have never been normal about. so i obviously have invested feelings #. i feel like this is what being cheated on feels like. this is a genuine attack on my person and my well being i am being cheated on in #my whole interior feels like tar #my heart feels like how you feel when you start to drown like that sense of bubbling over and the loss of breath and irrational brain feels #god now i’m openly reading this like it’s me and something tells me that this in this moment is going to be the worst decision of my life #i’m pretty sure i took my antidepressants. here’s hoping #i let out a sound that was a bit like a strangled wail and i tried to be quiet i tried so hard but i woke roommate up #she hasn’t fallen back asleep since then it’s been an hour #i think this is grief. like i’m feeling real unmitigated grief.#internally i am wailing at the top of my lungs i need to scream i need to sob i need to have some kind of catharsis before my body implodes #Is she still watching?” kill YOURself #i just wished death on akaashi keiji what has the world become. maybe i’m having a lucid nightmare and this isn’t a real fic #and surely it’s a happy ending right i said in delusion #my period cramps are nothing compared to whatever concoction of gross painful awful gut wrenching pain sobs anguish peril grief you’ve done #this is like when i read in another life for the first time but a hundred times worse #That some sick small part of her still wishes it was Akaashi instead.” ok

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tonycries · 2 months ago

Text

O-O-O-OBSESSED!

Synopsis. When he’s gonna hit it, he’s gonna hit it till your mind breaks.

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

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, dúmbifícation, running from it, cervíx kíssing, matíng presses, PÚSSYDRÚNK JJK MEN, bréeding, GOJO’S POWERS, mentions of kíds, p talking, headIocks, true form Sukuna, dp, spítting, cúmplay, MEAN Geto, breaking the béd, p spánking, marathons, proposals, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. PHEW hoping you have the loveliest week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 3 min. 12 secs

“Tch- where the hell do ya think you’re runnin’ off to, doll?”

Toji’s trapping both your droopy ankles with one dextrous set of his thick fingers, dragging you about halfway down the king-sized mattress in an instant. He’s oh-so-greedily pinning them over the curvaceous dip of his deltoids with a mean, sweat-slicked palm, “Don’t tell me yer hah- tapping out after only three minutes?”

Punctuating his filthy push and pull with a few syrupy thwack! thwack! thwacks! of his strawberry-pink tip down your sappy slit. He’s leaving generous wiry ribbons of pre that smudge and smear a pretty lipgloss as you clench.

“N-nooo m’not–” You’re shaking your dizzy head as urgently as you could, huffing at the utter teasing in Toji’s sleazy, dimpled smirk. “I’m just…”

But what could you even say at this point?

“Oh?” Toji’s letting his dark brows scrunch at your hypnotized silence, the way your gaze was practically plastered with little heart-eyes and- Oh. Oh. He can’t help but loosen a breathy snicker as the realization hits. “Already?”

Yes, already.

Because Toji Fushiguro never held back - he never ever hid that his exact goal in these lecherous sheets was to fuck you until you saw stars.

Always ruthless whenever he’s kissing your spongy cervix with such copious French kisses of his fat, rotund head. Always swollen so thick, with probing little veins sprinting against every one of your tender spots.

The stretch so maddening that it left a translucent trail of dribble spilling from the corners of your mouth. Puddling out with every pressurized pound to swirl wet splotches all over that magical spot until you were sure it was bruised and battered.

Until you were sure you couldn’t even formulate the thought process let alone the words to vocalize that he’d utterly fucked you stupid in all but three minutes.

“Heh- shiiiit-” You’re blinking away the glazed film of lust that’d taken over your eyes, just in time to catch the way that Toji peeks his willowy eyes down below. Letting out the sexiest low whistle at the mess he’s making, “Think s’ a new record. Now, where’d my ngh- mouthy girl go, huh?”

Roughened circles of his digits dig into your legs, tightening and tightening when - with a ragged grunt - Toji bends. He hunches his bulky body until you’re compressed in half, washboard abs melting into your front, your heels imprinting into his back - into the dirtiest mating press. Gruffing, “Have ya seen her?”

And you swear you catch the way that Toji’s fattened tip only stretched tautly wider, swabbing around your sloppy hole in a teasing circle. He’s buttering you up with numerous lecherous slurps until you were dripping.

But he was so slow - so taunting. Sharp malachite eyes dazzling with sheer amusement when you’re raking frustrated red, red lines down his muscular back. Mumbling tearily, I-If you’re not gonna hngh- fuck me properly already then–”

“Mhm- ya really are fucked dumb already.”

Hah, as if he already needed to confirm.

Because of course he was waiting for just this exact moment.

Flooding your honeyed lips with the prettiest broken whines when he’s plugging you mind-splittingly full. Rasping out a low fuck! at the gummy resistance, Toji’s vice-like restraint on your legs grow even sounder as he all but hauls you down every snug inch of his cock.

So solidly and completely spearheading his upright curve into your molten walls, it’s like you were scorching all around him. Sucking him up for more more more-

“Heh, do ya even r-realize how much you’re ngh- milkin’ me?” He’s cooing, pumping you with grinding ram after ram that has your clit massaging against Toji’s tufted black happy trail. Scratching. Filthily.

“T-Toji—” And it’s the only thing you can say - the only thing replaying in your mind again and again and- Your maw slacks so scandalously open when his gluttonous fat head sugarcoats your g-spot in a melty mess of precum. Sloshing and sheathing your rummaged insides in a sticky second layer. “There- more- more please- m-more-”

You didn’t even have to ask.

Because Toji’s second-ever weakness was having you completely cockdrunk and stupid on his swollen length - his first being, well, you in all your entirety - and his third? Making you even stupider.

Breath hitching, he’s angling his toned hips just right to brush up recoiling pecks on your precious spots exactly the way you like it. Making the splintering bedframe creak and whine almost as much as you.

Eyes lounging lazily to the back of your head, your tongue lolls out with every dredge of creamy pre making it’s home near your g-spot. “Ngh- yeah- m-m…” Couldn’t even speak.

With a hoarse belt of chuckles, Toji’s free hand pokes your fuzzily cotton-filled head. “Oiiii- d’ya even hngh- have anythin’ else in yer cockdrunk mind? Ya always get so ah- greedy when yer like this, hm?” Those very same fingerpads hovering over your buttony clit, he’s giving you a sudden pinch. “Especially…her.”

Oh, that did it - just as Toji knew it would.

Because you’re giving such a gluey squeeze of your adhesive-like walls around Toji’s throbbing shaft - making his chest stutter with a condensed heave, mouth lathering in a fresh batch of saliva that coats his sinful scar, and his brain short-circuiting just enough to feel the way you cum.

And not just any old orgasm - Toji’s spitting out a sharp few slews of profanity when he feels his hefty base soak in shiny, vicious waves of your slick. Blinking his dazed eyes down at his glistening abs - his pecs - to titter at how drenched he was.

How you’d squirted until his weepy cock was dripping with every ounce of sopping wet juices. That blankly loving filter in your stare that made him wonder if you even realized how hard you’d squirted - or whether you realized that you did at all.

You looked so tempting that he really, really can’t help but drag a thick thumb around your saturated pussy lips, drawing little hearts round and round where you were still bulging with all his bloated inches.

“Awwww– already?” Toji’s hips were still so mean, panted out through each scouring jackhammer of his cock. He’s drenching little puddles on his digit, slipping it into his mouth with a greedy pop! And- shit, maybe he’s the one fucked stupid now. “How sweet. S-sooo generous this pretty pussy is.”

Because in a split-second he’s coiled two big, beefy arms around your waist. Biceps digging into your mounds of flesh, silky sheets hot against his back as he manhandles you to pliantly flip over however he wanted.

Ruddied cock still buried deep into your goopy depths. So easy. So filthy. “Don’t think we’re gonna be hah- done for a long, long time, doll.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 7 min. 4 secs

“My love.” Nanami’s engulfing hand oh-so-sweetly cradles one side of your pretty face as you ride him senseless. Running his fat thumb down the tear-slicked rim of your lips. He’s warm, soft - the complete opposite of that chilling wedding band of his against your scorching flesh. “My love- a-are you alright?”

“Mhm— M’doin’ juuuust fine.” you’re barely able to mumble out, head lolling behind you as he thwacks his plump tip once more against your gummy cervix. Twice more. Thrice. “Ngh- easy, baby, the k-kids are sleeping.”

But your dear husband can sense that something is off. Something is…different.

Maybe in the way that you’re looking up at him with bigger and bigger heart eyes after every rolling jackhammer, maybe in the way you’re practically plastered against his hulking body. Soft tits glissading up and down up and down the sweat-slicked plane of his wide, cushiony pecs. So drunken. So pliant. And he can’t help but plant a soppy smack! against the hooded of your puffy clit with one free hand.

“Oh!” Your back curls into such a slutty arch - such a heavenly sight that makes him wish he had a photographic memory - squirmy hips bucking down harder and- “H-harder- Kentooo- wan’ some more–”

Oh?

And Nanami’s feeling his thickened head splurge your gooey insides with creamy wads upon wads of glossy pre at the mere thought - just the simple idea of you fucking yourself dumb while riding him.

He could probably cum just from watching you like this.

Breath hitching choppily, he’s grabbing your throat - dragging you like some ragdoll until you were only mere condensed inches away from him. You couldn’t be…could you?

“Ken—” Your spit-slicked bottom lip juts out, weighty shuffling forward to press a pretty peck against that shallow dimple on the corner of his lip. Oh, you’d meant for it to land on his lips…but. “Awww, I missed.”

Oh.

But of course he can’t leave his dear wife hanging - especially not when you’re all fucking yourself stupid on him like this.

He’s gifting you with an utterly dizzying kiss - making your tummy so melty with butterflies even after all these years. And you can’t help but keen-

“D-darlin’-” Nanami almost feels like he’s the utterly speechless one now, curling a singular hand around your waist to help your stumbling hips use his cock steadier. Deepening the angle to pound battered hit after hit against your tenderized favorite spots. Those manicured nails of his leave pretty crescent marks all over your fleshy skin when his uprightly curved cock thwacks! upwards. Feral. “Do you- ngh- know how b-beautiful you look right now?”

“Huh?” It’s so adorable how you’re stealing a few sloppy gyrations first before even registering what he’s asking. Cockdrunk and wordless that he’s coaxing out your answer with a sodden thumb smearing your waterfalling drool. “N-no?”

And without a second’s warning - without even a single speck of hesitation - the hand around your tender throat turns vice-like. Shackling. Cutting off both your airway and your heavenly view of a sexily prespired, half-lidded Nanami - turning that bleary gaze of yours towards the specially-installed mirror by your bed.

Head craning to the side to catch how fucking ruined you looked right now, hips moving out of control. Cunt just bawling with a syrupy slick mess pooling underneath you two with every shuddering spearhead of his cock.

“See? Just see h-how ngh- pretty my wife is.” Nanami’s rasping out, utterly wrecking your insides despite his sweet, sweet words. Branding circular divots of his head right into the very resiny bottom of your cervix. His lightning bolted veins just thump cheekily against your g-spot. “Always so pretty- could cum j-jus’ from seeing your ah- gorgeous face ‘nyways b-but…” Fuck- if you were in any better state of mind you’d have caught the way his stoic ears burn red. “...especially when you’re dumb like this.”

“Kento-” You’re crying out, mussing a hand through his dampened strands of blond. Tugging. Pulling to make him hiss. “C-cum inside me. Please. Wan’ it all i-inside- want you to make me pregn-”

“A-another?”

“Another.”

Fuck.

You were making him lose it.

So rudely swatting your hands away to pin them behind your back with only one of his - metallic wristwatch cold against your heated skin. He’s curling your back into a simpering inflection before hammering you with the almost-inhuman thick curvature of his cock, splotching out a wet few wisps of creamy white-

“Not yet- not yet-” Nanami’s muttering, and in your stupidly fucked state you’re not sure if he’s talking to you or himself. “Can’t- can’t ngh- yet-”

Rapturing it like a mantra over and over while blotting your g-spot with sloppy, dirty remnants of precum. Sloshing and glazing his bulky base and all the way down to his tight, thwacking balls. Making such a mess that only leaves you whining incoherently, jolting as if spiked by a sudden million volts of bliss when Nanami’s scooping up the sugary gloss and smearing it back into your gaping entrance.

Until you’re curling your toes taut enough that you can barely move, fingers digging into the pale skin of his back, your vision tinging with a sudden flurry of stars as you cum.

“Tha’s it- that’s right–” he’s breathing out, labored and throaty. So fucking grateful for those sound-proofed walls he installed when you had your first. Voice dipping into almost whiny territory as your husband’s babbling everything that your dumbfounded maw can’t, “Ride me- f-fuck- ride me until ya cum. Ruin me until I can…”

And with a sopping pivot of his fat shaft to hit right against the edges of your womb, he’s flooding your melty cunt with copious ribbons upon ribbons of thick seed. Milky. Heavy. Icing your weepy insides in his favorite white.

“M’gonna take c-care of it- take care of ya-” Nanami’s whispering in a hot pant against your ear, breath so strained and heated that it’s sending shivers down your spine. “Got a place hah- alllll safe n’ sound right- here-”

Nanami can only grin at that inflationary little nudge of where he’s feeling his spattering cum seep press gluey little kisses into your glutinous walls. Because yes, you were gorgeous when you’re fucked dumb like this…but you were even more gorgeous when you’re all round and glowing for him. Patting your pretty tummy, just so impatient for his newborn daughter - yes, daughter - already.

He’s batting his loving eyes down at your fatigued figure with so much adoration that it’s practically palpable. Sensitive tip twitching a perking jerk dangerously…Nanami licks his lips. When you look like this, he wants m-

“Kento—”

Your needy whine snaps him out of his pussydrunken hypnosis, smacking a few innocent smooches against the side of your forehead. “Yes, my love?”

“More.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - 4 min. 27 secs

Shit- shit.

You were so fucking cute - so dangerously ruined on Geto’s cock after only a few sloppy slathers of his thickened shaft down your spongy cervix that it was almost dangerous. That the ever-teasing Geto Suguru is finding his smirking mouth fill up with a few sing-songy coos.

“Awwww, always so ngh- mouthy. What happened- you doin’ alright, gorgeous?” he’s breathing out in a hot baritone up against your ear, opaline white canines sinking into your lobe eagerly. “Though- guess she’s hah- talkin’ in yer place now, hm?”

She being your goopy cunt, the way it was resonating out the most sinfully saturated squelches! with every sheathing lamination of Geto’s cock inside your gummy walls. Practically talking - begging for more with every probing jackhammer of his angry, ample tip.

And with your teary gaze tiredly panned over your shoulder, you can make out the way that Geto was nodding. Dewy eyes scrunched shut like he was in deep thought, pretty lips moving to speak absolute filth. “Mhm– you’re heh- right. That would feel b-better, huh?”

Conversing - but not to you.

And within one frowzy bat of your lashes, Geto drags up one of his thick, muscular legs. Years upon years of flexibility in battle being taken advantage of when he’s planting a foot down on your dizzy head and pinning you there.

“Ngh! Sugu—” you can only whine, struggling and soaking yourself with the deepening change in angle.

He’s only tutting at your sappy cunt, “I know- such a nasty girl, huh? So fuckin’- loud- too.”

Loud. So loud - and you weren’t even trying to be. Streamy rivulets of your glossed slick slurp out with every thudding thwack! of Geto’s sweltering hot tip drilling its way inside your elastic depths. He was so burning hot - feverish.

Shoulders slumping, head bowing at just how lecherously you were sucking up every. Single. Blow he gave. And he can already feel the languid trickle of drool spattering at at the corners of his lips, “So cute- sooo cute- but the- ngh- the whole fuckin’ association’s gonna hear ya, y’know~”

Before you know it you’re being engulfed with one of Geto’s massive palms - cold, slender, reaching over to muffle the utterly scandalous noises spilling uncontrollably from your sagging mouth.

“Not you, though-” he’s tittering, eyes locked down on the way all those weighty inches of his were disappearing and dabbing its way into your needy cunt. “You—” Leaving a particularly wet drag down your mushy insides, “Can ngh- talk allll you like- hah, because you didn’t get fucked stupid after only f-four minutes.”

“Ugh! So mean S-Sugu—” you’re sobbing out when his puffy head sponges against your poor g-spot for the nth time this night. Throbbing veins massaging your walls until you were sure your own heartbeat was syncing up with that staggering cadence. Nails raking down his strong forearm, “M-more–”

“What was that—?” He’s leering his head as close as possible, making your mouth lacquer with a greedy volume of saliva at the way his shoulders flex. Overflowing down his palm. “Heh- making such a m-mess, filthy girl. If ya want something, say it l-louder.”

Oh, by now you’re not just dumbstruck by his relentless pace - but also by how pretty Geto looks. With his long, inky hair freefalling in a soft curtain that tickles your curvaceous spine, half-lidded eyes unfocused and mean, cheeks flushed an innocent pink that matches his weepy tip.

And it’s just about all your melty mind can manage to hiccup out, “More.”

“Awww how cute- s’that all you can s-say?” He’s chuckling in a delirious little tone from above you, free hand nuzzling against your pulsing clit softly. Teasingly. Fully enjoying how you’re struggling against his hold to let out just a few more pretty noises. “Tell me.”

You’re nodding - nodding and nodding so hard that Geto snickers.

But, well, who ever said that Geto Suguru was a merciless man?

“Fine- I’ll let ya have yer little fun.” He’s rasping out with a hoarse sort of shudder at the very thought that makes him whimper. But- shit, was he glad that you’re too stupidly ruined on his achy cock to notice. Too drunkenly ecstatic when he’s suddenly setting free your wobbly mouth, “If you can first hah- speak a proper s-sentence while takin’ my fuckin’ cock- how about it?”

“I-I- ngh!”

But, shit, Geto wasn’t making it easy for you - the weight of his herculean body being pressurized into his foot even harder. He’s driving his hips into you so rocky that you’re sure you spot a few purplish bruises on his sultry hip bones.

“Heheh-” Ah, he’s having so much fun leaving you stupidly speechless like this. You’re only whining when he toys a thick thumb around your clit, before pressing down on that buttony hood. Hard. “Biiiig stretch makin’ you stupid, gorgeous?”

It was. Oh, it really, really was - and right now you’re so far gone that the only thing you can do is take it.

And Geto’s so perfectly practised in ruining you this way, too. Planting dense drivels of his fleshy tip against your sweetened spots, dragging the tubby divot in wet little smears in expert time with every squeeze of your clit.

“Yes-” you’re mewling out a belated response to his question. “Yes yes yes-”

Only to be cut off with Geto’s palms smearing back onto your dozy mouth, blocking out the slews of addicted whines that just won’t stop.

And, honestly, that heartbrokenly teary look in your eyes is so adorable that Geto’s throat clogs up with his own little whine.

God, you were breathtakingly contagious.

Voice strained - halfway through breaking - dipping a few octaves higher than usual when he’s hushing out, “Shh shhh- no needa force that ah- pretty lil’ head to overwork-” Leveraging the hold around your mouth to drag you backwards into his cadence. Filthier. More. “-you jus’ focus on t-taking my cock like a ngh- good girl and I-” Oh, he’s almost collapsing onto you - already in for a long, long night waking up the association. “-will focus on fillin’ this talkative cunt up.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 6 min. 18 secs

“Ch-Choso–”

And, to Choso, it was like the pearly gates of heaven had already opened their way up - and sat right front and center waiting on the other side for him was you.

With your trembly legs splayed out on either side of his vicious hips, hands sticking oh-so-desperately to the leather seat of his sleek black Hellcat. You’re lathering his swollen cock with thick, lustrous coatings of his cum from just before - when he’d crashed into his orgasm simply from putting it in. Drowning out your thoughts with the most saccharine sweet slurps from down below-

“Cho, baby–” Tapping his lovingly blushed cheeks a few times to knock your dear best friend back to at least an ounce of his senses. You brush away a few chestnut strands sticking to his prespired forehead, “D-dunno how m’gonna face your f-family after- ngh- this!”

And it takes him a few sloppy seconds - it takes him everything to even think of a jumble of words that might count as a reply.

Clammy hands latching on greedily to your vigorous hips, Choso has to force your cadence to slow down until he can string together a few syllables with his slack mouth. “Wh-why? I already hngh- parked a few blocks away from dad’s, s-so they won’t catch-”

“I know but—” your whining comes out so treacly condensed in the heady air of his car. Making him mindlessly ram another syrupy snog into your cervix. “But- you’re just fucking me so- so stupid.”

Oh.

That’s enough for Choso’s head to fall attractively backwards until his full weighty body was being supported solely by the cushiony seat. Pretty twinkling tears of sensitivity clinging onto his batting lashes, he’s whimpering, “M-me? I’m fuckin’ you hngh- stupid, baby?”

“Mhm—”

Nodding your head, your thighs just burn after every shuddering dab of Choso’s thickened length probing inside your gooey insides. Mushing up a spot modeled after him, an angry circumference of his fat tip indented into your poor g-spot. You’re feeling rivulets of his veins reaching each and every sensitive spot you never could.

He was drilling into you so filthily. So dirtily that your head was spinning with each sloshing wad of his seed swirling your insides.

And Choso - fuck, Choso looked like he was on the very urge of sobbing. Or, perhaps he was, you were much too cross-eyed at this point after every ram to confirm.

“I’m fuckin’ you s-stupid- Me.” he’s breathing out with such an air of worship. Blindly clasping one of your hands smeared against the foggy window to guide up to his lips and kiss. “S-say it again, my pretty baby. Heh…”

And right now, you don’t think you would’ve wanted to even if you could.

Jostling your hips with fresh pound after pound that leaves your soppy mounds of flesh stinging at the impact, every doughy thwack! of Choso’s plump, cum-filled balls against your ass has you gasping. “F-feel so- hngh- dumbstruck right now, Cho–”

“Because of m-my cock?” He’s giggling - giggling, a sleazy grin splitting that handsome face of his. Choso’s steering your needy hips to bounce down his copious inches faster. And faster. “Heh- is takin’ my cock like a hah- good girl m-makin’ you feel good?”

Fuck- and you can only nod.

“After o-only a few minutes?”

Punching your fists against his broad chest, but to Choso it only feels like a few kittenish bumps. “Cho! M’gonna g-get off if you t-”

“No! No no no no—” His knees thwack! against the car interior when he’s manspreading even wider. Legs jerking tightly up and down to collide your tender insides with plumpish mushroomy cockhead, “Stay- stay. Hngh! Hafta fuck you s-soooo much stupider.”

Fully as stupidly speechless as Choso was right about now, you didn’t know who was faring worse.

His muscular thighs slipping and sliding against yours with a glazed coating of cum and your honeyed slick. A low ah! ah! ah! slipping out every few seconds from those rosy pink lips of his with every drooling blow into your slobbery pussy.

“R-ride me until ya can’t even think, baby-” He’s pleading - begging. Viscous ropes of spit spattering out between his slack maw, he was drooling. Lips trembling, “Ride me- hngh- ride me a-and…choke me.”

Oh, the very second those pretty fingers of yours take Choso’s favorite position around his neck, his proudly globular head racks up a few gauzy wisps of pre. Dangerously creamy. Icing down your walls and making his overstimulated self keen.

Unable to even your sentence, your face hides in the very crook of his neck. Nuzzling against his sweat-simmered skin with how positively heavy your entire body felt. “G-god- feels s-so…”

“Nuh uh.” Choso lets his words drag out into a cute whine, chest hitching purely parched when your digits block off his airway even more snugly. “N-need to see your ngh- pretty face, baby- please- I need you to- need-” Sheer yearning flashes in his eyes when you’re tilting your head towards his fucked-out features once more, “-need you to kiss me.”

You’re giggling out, words airy. “S-so bossy, Cho–”

“Jus’ can’t get ‘nough of you.” He’s mumbling - hot and and heavy against your rawly kissed lips.

And it was a wonder that Choso could manage to strangle it out from his heaving chest, that he could even manage to breathe. Because with one last shuddering smooch of his rotund crown into your g-spot, you’re both tumbling headfirst into your high - Choso’s second orgasm of tonight.

And with every toe-curling flash of white, he’s smearing such streamlined splatters of seed into your melty insides. Hot. Sploshing down your walls and milking velvety rings upon rings around Choso’s hefty base - so viscous that you could almost taste it.

He’s making such a mess, too, giggling at how utterly speechless you were. Shrilling out nothing but mewling calls of his name.

Shit, music to his ears that Choso finds himself hypnotized to. Barely even registering when he’s patting the nudge of his puffy tip against your womb, pushing - just slightly - enough for tumbling dredges of cum to spill down your seeping slit and luster him until he was drenched.

“G-gonna hafta clean the c-car before we get back and ah- announce…” He’s looking up at you with stars in his eyes, so adoring that you could almost cum again from just this. “-our engagement.”

Your words choke up into a rolling ball of lead - an engagement? To your best friend? All the way before dating? And, yet, maybe it’s because your mind is still left in completely stupid shambles from before that you find your lips curling-

THUD! THUD! THUD!

A knock, and Sukuna’s voice through the black-tinted windows.

“OI! Jin is searching for you brats all over the place- SO YOU BETTER BE IN HERE-”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 2 min. 8 secs

“Fuck- fuuuuck would ya look at that cute lil’ bulge.” Sukuna’s chest heaves with rumbling little chuckles that echo against your back, two out of his four beefy arms pinning you so helplessly into his cushiony chest. “Well…heh, not little.”

The notorious king of curses was standing so tall - towering - and his dually rock-hard cocks were just the same. Swabbing open your slickly flooded insides in such a lecherous full nelson, he’s splitting open your glutinous walls with branding, thorough thrusts.

Knocking up against each and every bullseye of magical spots that he’d already memorized. You’re being shovelled with a girthy indent of his upper tip against your mushy cervix, managing out a broken K-Kuna—

“Tch, I know I know-” he’s rolling his eyes, leveraging the sinful uses of gravity below to watch you slip and slide your snug channel languidly down his left-curved shafts. “Ya want more- ‘sn’t that right, spoiled brat?”

But the only thing that thunders in Sukuna’s ears are the melodies of your sweetly singing cunt, slushy squelches of your puffed-up pussy lips slurping up every one of his numerous inches.

And, now, don’t get Sukuna wrong - it’s one of his favorite songs, one of his few weaknesses - but where was your honeyed voice?

“Oi- silly girl- forgot how ta ngh- speak?” You’re hearing from above you, all monstrous seven feet of Sukuna’s figure hunching over just enough for him to snarl hotly against your ear. “How else is the ngh- entire palace gonna know that m’makin’ my wife feel good?”

Punishing your plump clit with a lingering swat! of his thick fingertips, “Not answerin’ your king, huh? Guess I’ll jus’ hafta-”

“Ngh- m-more-”

Oh? That tone sounded familiar.

And now usually Sukuna would growl at you for speaking out of turn, usually he’ll plant a few sodden thwacks against your battered cervix to remind you exactly who you’re dealing with. But right now, he’s only scoffing, “The hell was that? Speak up.”

“More, Kuna—” Fuck, the utterly primal neediness in your voice has even Sukuna stuttering his vicious hips - much to your disappointment. And you’re wrangling in his vice-like grasp to gulp down a few more clingy gyrations of his cocks inside your gluey depths. “More- I n-need more- harder.”

“More?” he’s whispering. Seething. Shaking with a humorless little grin that oh couldn’t have been directed by anyone but you. “More. Heh fuckin’ slut. M-my little human wants more- oh, new record.”

Ah, new record indeed.

It’s been only what? A minute? Two? And here was his beautiful queen, all fucked dumb on his cocks again. So ruined that you could barely even speak, a smooth staccato of only wanting more replaying in your mind when your husband plunges in a capsizing few jackhammers.

You barely even register it when one of his hands tighten on your scalp, overgrown fingernails craning your head uncomfortably up, up, up for him to splatter your tongue dripping wet with a sleazy wad of his saliva. “Yer fuckin’ gone arentcha?”

And he might just be, too, with how pliantly you’re letting that thickened mass slide all the way down your tastebuds. Huffing, “F-fuck- more.”

“Greedy lil’ thing.” He’s puckering up your sodden folds with a slow circles of his fingers, before clashing another good smack! Dragging out velvety ribbons of your honeyed slick that cling to his digits, “Such a filthy pussy, even after- hah- after I can see my bulge in that ah- puny human cunt o’ yours, woman. Ya still want more?”

“B-bulge?” Your head lolls over to rest against one of the curvaceous cushions of Sukuna’s muscular deltoids, glazed eyes drifting all the way down-

Oh.

Fuck- the sight as complete heaven.

Your lips were parting way for Sukuna like butter, slobbering down your sweet sap of juices to him like you were glossing every inch of him. Bludgeoning in his rotund mushroom tip until your ass was bruising against the unruly trail of drenched pink that led to his swollen hilts. And the bulge- shit.

The bulge was rummaging itself to all the way up about halfway down your tummy - edging at your fucking lungs it felt like - was such a perfectly cylindrical outline of Sukuna’s matching cocks. Smearing open your gluttonous walls so widely agape, he’s crashing his smooching tips against your g-spot, your cervix. Both at the same time. Everywhere and anywhere that you could see now.

“Oh-oh-” you’re whining out, lower lip trembling every more frenzied with every glissading dab against those spots. The way that Sukuna had your clingy walls milking him so tight. “S-s’so big, Kuna–”

“Oh? So ya can speak other words.” He’s chuckling, fat fingers pressing a curving little pattern down on your sensitive nub. Pinching. Tugging. So harshly that you can’t help but flail in his hold mid-air. “Easy, easy there, brat. Jus’ thought ya f-forgot how to, heh.”

Oh, he was such a tease.

Such feral darkness oozing into his words when a third of his hands guide your own to caress that lecherous bulge. “Here- don’ be shy- wanna touch it, ngh- dontcha?” And of course, you do. Rubbing over the creamed divots of his outlined tips. In awe. “-yeah like- fuuuck like that- heh…such a cutie when you’re all f-fucked dumb.”

Shit- so utterly adorable that he can’t help but leave another sopping wet smack! on your clit. Another. And another. And another and another until the heat curls up scorchingly in your stomach, and Sukuna’s taking your star-struck moment to snicker, “Mhm– m’feelin’ a little bad for this ngh- p-poor cunt though. Maybe I should take out one cock…”

“No!” You’re crying out, hips trying so ravenously to scoop up every sloshing glob of pre that butters up your insides. And you’re sucking in every inch that you get, every merciless ram. All while boring your eyes into Sukuna’s tearfully, “N-nooo I wan’ it- wan’ them both s-so badly.”

Fuck, you were dangerous.

And the most powerful can’t do a single thing. Because, really, who was he against you?

Can’t do anything but lacquer your drooly tastebuds with another syrupy ball of spit - enough to make you cum.

Sparks of your high sprinting throughout your body, sheening an almost-sparkling wet slobber around Sukuna’s bucking cocks - all the way down to his flexing thighs. It’s thwacking and skidding your jiggling ass against his mounds of muscles even harder, riding out your orgasm on the way that Sukuna’s gifting sopping smacks! on that poor hooded peak of your clit.

Blinking back overstimulated tears, “Kuna–”

“Ah ah- ignorin’ the king when he’s t-talking to ya, cutting me off, cumming with no warning…” he spits hotly against your ear. “I should make ya pay for treason, woman.”

“H-how?” Still so cockdrunken. Still uselessly struggling against his twitchy gyrations, zig-zagging little wet paintings down your inner walls.

Sukuna pretends to think, a sleazy grin plastered permanently on his face. “Hmmm, how about…ya ah- squirt f’me.” All the while boring his devilishly red eyes into your heart-eyed ones. How cute. “If that pretty lil’ empty head remembers how that is, h-heh.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - 11 min. 6 secs

“C-can I cum inside? Again? P-please?” Ino’s hissing - more to himself than anything. Words bubbling out after each and every lazy swat! of his fat, ruddied tip down the very bottom of your pappy wet cervix. He wants more. He need more. “Shhh sh sh- jus’ a lil’ more- please. Just some- ah-”

Shit- it’s been what feels like hours now.

Your beloved boyfriend stuffing you full of ropy smears of cum over and over. Until your slick-filled cunt was flooded with an excess of his seed, until you couldn’t even think over the deafeningly saturated slurps of thick wads oozing out from you down below.

Until you were fucked stupid after only a few greedy hits of Ino’s fattened tip into your melty core - until he was utterly spellbound, too, after about solely ten minutes into this new round.

“T-Taku…” You yelp, throat scratchy with how strained your poor whines have become. Your legs dangle helplessly off his strong shoulders, such a sloppy mating press by now that it would be embarrassed to even be called one. “Baby- harder. Wan’ more…wan’ you to f-fill me up.”

Fuck.

Now, Ino knew that you were thoroughly drowned and cockdrunk - but he didn’t know you were this ruined. And fuck- fuck, he’s giving the side of his fatigued thigh a harsh pinch. Once. Twice.

Trying oh-so-hard to blink back some semblance of thought into his dizzy mind. He feels like he’s nodding drunkenly, planting a damp trail of pecks down your cheek because shit, he missed your mouth. “Oh. Wh-what was that? Ngh- say it again f’me, pretty? P-please–”

“Taku—” you’re whining impatiently. Cloying wet grinds of your hips swirling his thickened length around you so blissfully, sugarcoating thick rings of pre around your insides. “J-jus’ cum inside me again.”

“Sh-shit-” Ino’s pretty features scrunch up in such bliss, plumped-up balls squeezing to dredge out another wispy chain of cum. “Ohh ya have n-no idea what ya do to me.” Decorating your familiarly bruised cervix with a freshly lathered glaze, he’s whimpering. “C-can you say that f’me a-again, sweetness?”

And you’re letting your pouty maw fall slack in order to - to demand for more. A few stupidly mewling sentences on the edge of your tongue when Ino’s reeling his hips back and thudding numerous wet collides into your sloppy cunt. Prespired body glissading easily - so sloppily - against yours in determined smack! smack! smacks! such a tangled mess of limbs and need.

God- it almost hurts. Overstimulation and pleasure hitting him doubly all at once, he’s gritting his teeth with a rough groan of your name before planting more pounds after pounds.

“D-didn’t say it f’me- ngh- ah! again–” Ino’s panting into your dumbstruck-open mouth, sweat-lacquered forehead resting against yours. Pinching his thigh over and over to just keep his senses. And his deep voice cracks into a whine at the very end, “Talk to me. Please, tell me- ngh- t-talk me through it, pretty. Please-”

But his actions spoke the complete opposite.

Ino was clashing the steamy curve of his rotund tip against your g-spot so hard, beating it like a sloppy drum with every jackhammering dab of his hips. Fucking out every thought and gurgling syllable out of you with a pussydrunkenly boyish grin.

Spitting a thick pwah! of saliva onto two of his slender fingers, he’s dipping them down, down, down to roll a few zig-zagging patterns on your pulpy clit.

“C’mon- w-wanna hear your pretty voice—” he’s babbling, pearly tears making their home at the crinkled ends of his delicately pretty eyes.

“T-Taku–” You don’t think you could’ve spoken even if you wanted to, tugging through his smooth woody hair. Until it makes him hiss, and his sultry crownhead gush out wet globules of precum. “No ngh- fair.”

“Heh. Who has ya f-feelin’ like ah- this, sweetness?” He’s snickering into the corner of your mouth, chestnut eyes drooping further and further half-closed the deeper his veiny shaft was poking into the goopy bottom of your pussy. The further he was milking his seething tip on every miniscule cling of your walls. Teasing, “Who? Oh whoops- h-heh- tha’s right…you can’t talk right now.”

But oh, Ino had forgotten that just how fucked stupid that his brain was meant the exact same for his body, too.

Because in a split-second, you’re elbowing the pillowy mattress determinedly to flip the two of you over - Ino’s swollen girth still sunken inside, your brain still woozy. Even more so when straddling the slender curve of your boyfriend’s hips, trembly palms trekking down his mountainous pecs to push him flat onto the silky sheets.

Ino has such a sexy look of drunken adoration in his eyes when you’re bouncing your squelching cunt to ride him out of his mind. Prattling with your currently one-tracked brain, “S-said I wan’ you to f-fill me up, Taku–”

Oh. oh. And then he is - both of you are.

You’re jerking almost-violently at the wracking bouts of high that take over your body, flashing silvery stars behind your scrunched-up lids. Those sobbing thwack! thwack! thwacks! of his bulbous tip have you shrilling, letting Ino reach out a hand to draw little circles over your overwhelmed clit.

And he isn’t any better off - has his eyes sliding all the way back until all you could see was pure ivory, Ino’s chest arching deliciously into yours. His lower lip strawberry-red from being bitten hard enough gulp back those wrenching whimpers threatening to burst pathetically free.

One hand leaving a quick smack! to the fat of your ass before swirling it in hypnotic little circles to feel those ribbony globs of his cum sloshing around. Ah, he can feel it steaming thick masses so deep inside you - jittery fingers feeling for that familiar hot nudge at your womb. Such voluminous amounts that laminate his twitchy shaft with layers upon dripping wet layers of glistening seed, making such a mess-

Ino ends off with a giggle - a giggle. “Oh, I love it when yer r-rough w’me, pretty.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 25 secs

“-twenty-three…twenty fouuuur-” Gojo’s dragging out, rounded tips of his fingers ghosting over your pulpy clit - just far enough to zap! your sensitive hood with an atomic buzz of jujutsu. Grinning down at you from where he’s holding you captive in a lecherous prone bone, “-twenty-five- h-heh…n’ already gone. New record, sweetheart.”

And you would’ve snapped back at your utterly ecstatic boyfriend if you could, you would’ve huffed out that he totally drawled on the count far longer than it should’ve lasted - but how could you?

Because just the sappy peck! of Gojo’s globular tip down the treacly pucker of your slit makes you dizzy. Meady wet spurts of his precum strolling languidly down your pussy lips, making such a mess - and he’d barely even shovelled you overly snug of his full, thickened tip.

But oh what was unfair - what was so completely dirty - is the way he was buzzing his filthy fingerpads with a shimmer of cursed energy, pinching your sensitive clit just enough to make you see stars.

“Ngh- oh my god.” you’re babbling out through slacked lips that feel like they’re fucking numb. Hips dizzily confused whether to bury yourself in a cocoon of those silken navy sheets or to run away.

“Yes- yes tha’s right–” he’s cooing, one hand swiping away the globular pearls of sweat that trek down your forehead, the other ringing out against your peaked clit with a miry swat! “Talk t’me ngh- l-loove hearin’ what that empty lil’ haaah- cockdrunk mind of yours has ta say.”

Sobbing out, “S’jus’ so- so big, Toru—”

“Heh…see?”

Yeah, he loved the cute wafting nonsense that spilled from your lips whenever you were fucked stupid on his thick, throbbing length. Red and angry to make your head even emptier-

And you’re scrambling helplessly towards the plushy pillows, the edge of the bed, the fucking headboard - only for Gojo to slam! one massive palm down on the mahogany headrest. Splitting it straight down the middle-

Muttering in your ear so sultry, Gojo’s slurring out a stumbling, “Now now- where’d ya think you’re going?” Your entirely shivering body being scooped up with a single curl of his bulging forearm around your throat. Fuck- his sweat-glossed biceps flex as you’re hauled back down, down, down onto his thoroughly rummaging cock.

“B-barely even halfway in n’ yer already so heheh- fucked dumb.” Giggling - giggling - deliriously in your ear in condensed little pants, he’s so hot glissading his weighty body down your back. Rows of ivory white teeth sinking into your precious ear lobe, you’re graced with a firm set of six-inch fingers on your waist. “Get- get ready for a hah- biiiig stretch, sweetheart.”

And a big stretch, it was.

It feels like you’re being rawly split apart - Gojo’s intruding girth caving out a bulging cylindrical pathway down your slobbery pussy. Puffy, crowned cockhead smearing open your gluey walls until you were sure you could feel every ridge, every thumping vein. Feel him poking his weepy divot into your mushy cervix in thick drags - you could cum from just this.

And you think you do - without your poor, spellbound goo of a brain even realizing. Your back arches into an almost painful curvature when you’re throwing your head back and cumming.

“Please- please please-” Garbling out, so fucking cute that he can’t help but lick a sleazy stripe down the glistening middle of your back and hum.

You’re gasping at the thickly vicious splatter of something on your shoulder - only to bleary your heart-filled eyes over your shoulder at the way that Gojo was drooling.

Whining, with every pap! of his prettily full balls against your ass. Slumping his heavy bodyweight like he was melting into your, ridged washboard abs massaging your back, hefty bodyweight pinning you down onto the mattress. His bicep curls into an even tighter headlock around your straining neck, “Yeah- ohoho yeahh that’s the stuff- t-talk to me s’more, my girl.”

“C-can’t even-” You’re whimpering out, hips jostling upwards in embarrassing little grinds that swirl the very rounded tip of Gojo’s tip around your melty insides. Milking out heaps upon heaps of creamy precum with every one of his greedy drives. “-can’t even think- can’t even b-breathe. J-jus’ want you…”

God - he was making a sheerly sludgy mess out of you. Branding your sweet insides with sugary coatings of precum, with thorough bruises.

“What do ya w-want, sweetheart?” Gojo’s muttering all over again, bearing your puffed-up clit with another pinch. Then another. And another. “Anything m’gonna give ya- ahhh, fuck- anything.”

Blinking up tearily, “A-anything?”

Which only makes him fuck you hard enough to practically mesh into one with the mattress - and then some. And it’s like he was pounding himself just as stupid on your cunt as you were with every one of his animalistic rams.

Sodden. Heavy. French mushes against your bruised g-spot - and you could already tell by the scarily bittersweet accuracy and those stray bolts of tiny blue lightning that Gojo was using his six eyes to cheat his way buttering your pretty cunt with lethal hits.

To spy your sweetest spots inside-

“M’gonna marry ya-” Promising over and over when he’s routing a wet trail of kisses down your perfectly arched spine. “-buy us a niiice big mansion- or a small one- your hah- choice. Grow old together, n’ I’ll kill off anyone that dares object.”

“Satoru…”

“Yes- yes?” Sapphire eyes wide and wild now - like he was in the middle of a fight, like he was prowling for prey just the way his fat tip was probing down every orifice of yours. “Tell me- tell me, sweetheart.”

“I-I want-” your lower lip wobbles adorably, and Gojo can’t help but slither his own down and suck like his favorite gummy candy. Making you mewl, “-wan’ a baby.”

And you swear you could hear the lilting crack in Gojo’s voice when he’s echoing out a highly-pitched. “A b-baby?”

The only thing your poor brain can manage out is a nod, and the only thing he can manage out is to just barely not fucking snap.

THUD!

Gojo’s got you locked in his powerful hold - muscled figure pinning you to the soiled bed, his deadlocked bicep hauling your mouth onto his. And he’s snapping his hips to yours so hard that you wince ever-so-slightly at the bruise surely formulating by now - or, well, would have formulated had it not been for Gojo’s reversed curse technique.

Working overtime now to not break a bone when he’s plugging your sodden insides with thick knots of cum. He’s cumming and cumming so hard that Gojo thinks he can’t stop - thinks he doesn’t want to.

“H-how I love when ya talk outta yer ngh- pussy, sweetheart-” Your shoulder stains with a few more translucent spatters of drool - and tears. Big and overstimulated, beading behind his glazed lids.

Gojo can’t let a single swashing wad of his seed drizzle to waste, plugging in numerously overspilling ounces back in through your puckered pussy lips. The sheer volume making his achy balls twitch with more and more. Doubly penetrating your sloppy hole with two fingers, he’s taking the sinful opportunity to slither a few spiralling patterns around your sensitive entrance.

A baby.

“A baby. A…a fuckin’ baby.” Gojo’s shaking his head - crazed. Smile humorless and dangerous where it was directed at you, and for a moment you’re wondering who really is the one fucked stupid right about now. “Oh, my girl, I’ll give you ten.”

A/N. Smooches to that one nonnie for sparking the idea hehe <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

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sunni-stuff · 3 months ago

Text

Part 1 This is part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

With the train ride now over, the sergeants ran, scouring the market for two familiar faces. Their footsteps in sync, crunching delicate mounds of white snow. Soap broke through the crowd first, then Gaz and Gary were right with him.

“Where the hell are they?” Gaz pants out, his breaths misting in the cold air.

“You said the marketplace,” Soap huffs.

“Yeah, I said the marketplace, but it's not like I know exactly where they went!” Gaz snaps back.

While the two sergeants bicker, Roach quietly breaks away, scanning the area until he spots the familiar figures they’d been hunting for. Price and Ghost stand outside a cigar shop, deep in conversation. The satisfied grin on Price's face tells Roach everything—he got what he was after.

“They’re over there!” Roach exclaims, snapping his partners out of their lovers' quarrel.

Gaz and Soap go silent, their eyes following Roach’s line of sight until they, too, spot their Lieutenant and Captain.

In a heartbeat, the three of them are sprinting toward their unsuspecting targets. Soap grins like a madman, practically buzzing with mischief, while Gaz shakes his head, both amused and slightly wary of what might unfold. Roach, meanwhile, is simply thrilled to be along for the ride.

They skid to a stop right in front of the two men, chests heaving as they catch their breath in the biting winter air.

“The hell is wrong with you lot?” Price’s voice cuts through, laced with a mix of annoyance and bemusement as he shifts his attention from Ghost to the winded sergeants.

Ghost, arms crossed, eyes them with quiet scrutiny. His winter coat does little to conceal his bulky frame, a silent reminder of his imposing presence as he stands beside Price.

Price and Ghost waited for an explanation, knowing well everytime those three got together, they were definitely up to no good.

Like how they put semi-permanent green dye in Ghost's shampoo for Halloween.

“We… we saw. A kid with your face,” Gaz manages, still catching his breath, pointing straight at Ghost.

Ghost raises a brow, baffled. A kid with his face? What the hell did that mean? Did they think he looked like a baby?

Soap huffs in mock disappointment, shooting a playful glare at Gaz. “Oi, I wanted to say it!”

Predictably, the two dive into another back-and-forth. Gaz isn’t one to shout, but Soap has a talent for riling anyone up.

Price lets their little show go on for only a moment before his stern voice cuts in, slicing through their bickering. “One of you properly explain, or you'll be walking back to base.”

Roach steps up, eager to clarify. “There’s a kid, probably about two, and she looks exactly like the Lt. Scowl, glare, and all!”

Price and Ghost pause, their expressions twisting as they both try—and fail—to imagine a little girl with Simon’s permanent scowl.

Price shudders, shaking the thought from his head. “That is not a face a kid should have.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Gaz chimes in, nodding emphatically.

Ghost throws him an offended look, his usually hardened eyes showing a glimmer of hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing!” they all exclaim in unison, even Price, who quickly averts his gaze as Ghost’s glare narrows on him.

Ghost huffs, then crosses his arms. “Did you take a picture?”

Soap snorts, leaning against the wall with a smirk. “Aye, right, 'cause that wouldnae be creepy at all.”

Ghost stares daggers Into Soap, rolling his eyes and pushing himself off the wall. “Okay, then where is she?”

The three stooges lead the charge once again, this time with their Captain and Lieutenant in tow. They weave through the crowd toward the train park, where Soap eagerly scans for the woman and kid he’d spotted earlier. But the line they were in is empty, the pair nowhere to be found.

“Shite. I think they’re gone,” Soap mutters, his Scottish accent thickening in his frustration, the words rolling out with a clipped bite.

“So the imaginary woman and kid don’t actually exist,” Ghost deadpans, unimpressed.

“They exist!” Gaz insists, voice edging on exasperation.

“Sure,” Ghost replies, his tone flat and thoroughly unconvinced.

Roach snickers, then glances over at Price—only to see him staring slack-jawed through the window of a nearby café, his cigar dangling from his mouth, forgotten.

“Cap?” Roach says, touching the older man’s shoulder.

Price doesn’t look away, nodding toward the café. “Found them.”

Everyone turns toward the café, eyes landing on you and Adira. The little girl is happily weaving between your legs, her tiny hands gripping your coat as she entertains herself, all while you order hot chocolates to fend off the winter chill. A soft smile touches your lips as you watch her play, blissfully unaware of the audience gathering just outside.

The barista, with a warm smile, hands over two cups, one with a little extra marshmallows for Adira, her voice bright as she wishes you both a merry Christmas. You take the cups with a grateful nod, handing one to Adira. She immediately takes her drink, sipping eagerly, her small feet bouncing on her heels from the sugar rush.

“Yummy?” You ask, glancing down at her with a soft smile, a wave of motherly pride swelling in your chest as you watch her delight in the simple joy of her drink.

Adira nods eagerly, her eyes lighting up as she pulls away from her straw with a satisfied sigh. “Yummy.”

With a soft chuckle, you both leave the warmth of the shop, stepping out into the crisp air. Hand in hand, you walk back toward the park, the world around you feeling peaceful despite the cold. As you reach the crosswalk, you stop, waiting for the light to turn. Adira looks up at you, her little face filled with contentment as she swings your joined hands back and forth, her sugary energy still buzzing.

Across the way, the team stood frozen, unable to look away from the scene unfolding before them. Everyone but Ghost was struck by how much Adira looked like him—her features unmistakably mirroring his, save for the color of her hair and skin. The resemblance was uncanny, and for a brief moment, it felt like the world had stopped around them.

“She looks nothing like me,” Ghost stated plainly, his voice cutting through the stillness as though it were fact. His expression was unmoving, a wall of stubbornness in his eyes. He was ready to die on that hill.

Then, as fate would have it, a woman walking her dog passed by, and Adira’s cherub-like face hardened into a cold, calculating stare. It was subtle, but unmistakable.

“Nevermind,” Ghost muttered, his earlier conviction faltering as he watched her shift before his eyes.

“So… you’ve been having fun these past years?” Roach asked, his gaze flicking between Adira and Ghost, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Not that I know of,” Ghost grunted, his eyes still locked on you and Adira, a mix of unease and something else flickering across his face. He couldn’t pull himself away.

“Let’s get closer,” Price commanded, already making his move. Soap and Roach exchanged a shrug, falling in line without hesitation.

“Excuse me?” Gaz sputtered, though his body had already begun moving before his brain could catch up, unable to defy the Captain’s order.

Ghost fell silent, teeth gritted. This wasn’t a situation he was used to, especially not one where he was forced to go in blind. He stood stiffly at the crosswalk, trying to hide his glances, his focus split between the team and you.

Soap ended up the closest, standing just next to Adira. The little girl paused, her big, doe-like eyes lifting from her drink to catch sight of him. The recognition was instant. Her lips pursed into a small line, and her gaze grew heavy with annoyance.

“Ugee…” she whispered, scooting closer to you.

Soap froze, his mind stuttering for a moment. Did she just—? Did she call me ugly?

Gaz, standing behind him, couldn’t contain himself. A muffled laugh broke through as Soap turned to look at the others, wide-eyed and speechless, completely taken aback.

“Do ye lot think I'm ugly?” Soap asked, his voice thick with disbelief, clearly thrown off by the little girl's words.

“Not the time, Mctavish,” Price said, a tiny laugh tugging at the corner of his lips despite the situation.

The streetlight flickered green, signaling it was time to move. You adjusted yourself, ready to cross the street. Each member of the team started mentally preparing, unsure of how—or even if—they should approach you. Ghost, however, was the first to make a move, determined to intercept you. But Soap, ever the opportunist, beat him to it.

Ghost wasn’t exactly subtle, and having him try anything would probably send you running in the opposite direction.

“Excuse me, aren’t you the lady from the train?” Soap called out, his voice light, though his intentions were clear.

You paused at his interruption, recognition flickering in your eyes. You remembered the man who bumped into you earlier. “Yes? Is something the matter?”

“Do you happen to know where I could find Leslies?” Soap asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice, though he tried to mask it.

“The pub?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Soap confirmed, his face lighting up with a mix of relief and surprise at your easy response.

You look around for a moment, trying to remember and see the street names of your current location. “Uh…it should be about a couple blocks south from here. They have a big sign, you can't miss it.”

Thank God for Soap, because that one question was all he needed to keep you trapped in a conversation, his charm working its magic as you giggled and chatted away easily, the awkwardness of the situation melting away.

Meanwhile, Ghost’s attention shifted to Adira. He looked down at her, and she, almost instinctively, looked up at him. Their eyes locked in a silent staring contest, each of them studying the other. The intensity in their gaze was undeniable, both sets of eyes reflecting the same quiet, unwavering strength. It was like looking in a mirror—a mirror that mirrored back his own hardened stare and no-nonsense attitude.

Adira was, quite literally, his mini me. The resemblance was impossible to ignore.

“How old are you?” Ghost asked bluntly, his voice low as he kneeled down to Adira’s height, his gaze intense but trying to soften.

Adira paused for a moment, glancing up at you for help, but you were still caught up in conversation with Soap. She turned her focus back to Ghost, her small fingers fidgeting with the hem of her coat as she murmured shyly, “Two…”

She was two. Two. Ghost’s mind raced, trying to piece together the details, but nothing clicked. Nearly three years ago… what had he done three years ago? He kept everything categorized, stored in his mind like a well-organized file system, but this was something that didn’t fit.

Then, Soap’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“You don’t seem like the type of lass to frequent Leslies.”

You giggled, a soft blush creeping up your cheeks at Soap’s question. He wasn’t wrong… at least, not entirely. “I’ve only been to Leslie’s once, and, well… it’s how I ended up with my little blessing.” You glanced down at Adira, the warmth of your smile radiating as you spoke.

Everything shattered in that moment. Ghost’s stomach twisted painfully, his heart skipping a beat as the realization slammed into him like a freight train. Leslie's. Almost three years ago, during that stupid holiday.

His mind began to piece it together, the hazy memories from that night slowly coming into focus. He remembered the bar, the laughter, the way you had caught his attention. You were easy on the eyes, easy to make laugh, and most importantly—unlike everyone else. You didn’t ask questions, didn’t pry, you just let him lead, let him slip into the night with no strings attached.

But now, as he looked at Adira, everything fell into place. The way she stared at him, those familiar eyes, the resemblance he couldn’t ignore. His breath hitched, and the weight of the truth crushed him—she was his daughter.

A knot formed in his throat as he tried to process the fact. Adira. His daughter. The little girl standing before him was his flesh and blood, the result of a moment he'd long since buried in the depths of his mind.

---

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