#beyond the city wall
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
A nice quiet Sonstansil for Alouise and Ida out in the wilderness 🍃🎄
If you hadn't seen already, this little adventure duo is from another upcoming Hilda spinoff comic of mine, Beyond the City Wall!
Sorry I didn't do anything more spectacular this year, I got a lot going on.
Happy holidays!~
#hilda the series#hilda netflix#hildafolk#hilda fanart#hilda oc#beyond the city wall#hilda beyond the city wall#hilda elves
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rita: [Mindlessly walks into Juno's office] hm. this isnt the fridge
Juno, waking up from a 30 hour nap at his desk: SunoJteelprivateInvestmentationsHowcanI- [EXTREMELY LOUD HYPERION CITY GUITAR RIFF]
#I'll never give up the gag of the Hyperion city guitar riff being actually part of it and not beyond the 4th wall#the penumbra podcast#juno steel#tpp#junoverse#the penumbra#tpp rita#rita tpp
154 notes
·
View notes
Text
i had this one setting of this infinite city in which humans barely manage to survive with all the weird eldritch monster and cracks in reality and i was gonna make a game with it but i felt like the setting didn't fit as much with the themes i wanted and i have now found out the solution to this and that is to make it cyberpunky and about fascism
#not really cyberpunk but like the idea is that the city is immensely large like a hive city#where capitalism reigns only beneath of office of the mayor and side by side they exploit the citizens#and in some cases#often foolishly#attempt to exploit things far beyond humanity#the reason i say fascism is that a core belief spread in the city is that there is nothing outside the city walls besides ruin and madness#and that the city is constantly under attack#which may or may not be true but is nonetheless used as a flimsy excuse for horrific exploitation of the cities lower classes#the idea is that the player runs a mail ship or something like that and mail men are allowed to traverse the various tiers of the city with#less scrutiny while also having insane deadlines#and the player character's overseer dies without anyone besides the player character realizing opening up the player character to much more#freedom letting you go around and explore#gameplay like sunless sea
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
looking through the quote photos I took last time I read Rilke's Book of Hours, and now I need to reread Rilke's Book of Hours.
#¶#You many assaulted cities:#Have you never yearned for the enemy?#Yearned that he might besiege you#for long irresolute years‚ until#in hopelessness and hunger you receive him?#He extends like the land beyond your walls‚#and he knows he can hold out longer.#Look from your balconies:#there he camps. He does not tire#or diminish in size or strength.#He sends no messengers to threaten#or to promise or persuade.#He who will overcome you#is working in silence.
1 note
·
View note
Text
Anyways, if I picked up Mysterio, it would actually be three OCs in a trenchcoat.
Aka, I really like the idea of there being three people behind the mask. Aiding in the inability to get any read on the "man" whatsoever as they could be in multiple places at once or even supporting the display remotely at their HQ.
One would be the technological juggernaut of the group, one a skilled actress/magician/entertainer with some sort of mutant power, and the third would be... well, they'd be the money and the criminal amongst the three with history and connections. All together they make a surprisingly cohesive team, and make Mysterio a surprisingly adept criminal mastermind.
Even if they may, perhaps, butt heads from time to time. As many a villain team-up does, they do know one thing. None of them are particularly partial to Spider-Man. Well, mostly.
#do i really want to write THREE characters in one-#-when they're all technically ocifying ONE character?#fourth wall begone ;; ooc#like this is my big mysterio idea. i like the idea of the master of illusions being a trio#“mirth is this just inspired by the theor--” yeah but i also had been brewing a vague idea anyways#i like when villains have gangs or impersonators y'know? like in batman beyond i loved the joker gang#or gotham city impostors that was also lit.#basically the theory just gave me a more condensed way of thinking of that same logic#and honestly i'm sitting here and being like y'know??#much to think about....
1 note
·
View note
Text
somethin’ sweet before i go ˚ ♡ ⋆。 vi + fem!reader
synopsis : when your arrest turns out to be an attractive, arrogant zaunite who’s, obviously, had a bad night, there’s one thing she asks for before being turned in. c’mon, can’t you give her something sweet before handing her to a cold cell?
—TW : kinda hate fucking , fingering , dom!vi , afab , post jinx attack
“hey, princess, any chance you’re sweet enough to loosen these up a bit?” your pinkette prisoner grunts, rolling a kink out her neck.
your expression is nothing short of unimpressed for the taunting games your newest problem has come up with. glaring up from your paperwork, you bit the inside of your cheek in frustration, “quit with the pet names—do you find your situation funny?” you turn around to face the arrogant zaunite, cuffed hands extended behind her back. you found it rather annoying how nonchalant she was—or worst, she found this amusing. “you are being detained for assault,” you continue, “that’s a night in jail, ‘sweet stuff.’” mocking her previous taunt.
she just scoffed, but it was far from being insulted. a sly smirk and dangerous blue eyes peaking beneath cherry strands looked up at you.
“ya’ think i’m sweet, princess?”
you hear the familiar clanking of metal rubbing against each other, bringing attention to her restraints.
“undo the cuffs and i’ll treat you sweet all nigh-“ her prurient statement cut off by the force of your forearm knocking into her chest, subsequently shoving her against the wall.
“you forget yourself, trencher,” your arm jabs in the smug, although rather charming (and quite attractive), outlaw’s chest, and her eye twitches in a wince. “you’re in my territory now—it’d suit you well to not make a fool of me; i’m sure you’ve been taught the same in that… mess of a city across the bridge.”
your tongue held venom as you almost seemingly spat out the insult like it was truly sickening to speak of. there’s an unspoken challenge being held between the both of your glares. you tack on a huff from your flared nostrils to seal the conversation and to warn the zaunite in front of you from talking back.
but as the tense silence subsides, the cherry-haired woman draws out a teasing smirk, scoffing again, “ever been to the undercity, sweet-cheeks?”
her question seemed more rhetorical than anything. you didn’t answer, clenching your jaw, keeping your eyes fixated on hers as to not give a look of submission. she took your quietness as a ‘no’ and raised a brow,
“thought so.”
she leaned her head in closer, as close as your arm would allow—although, there wasn’t much distance to set you apart anyways. her eyes lidded now as your confidence wavered from the almost predatory air hung around her; like when a lion, hidden in the tall grass, gets a perfect angle of their prey.
“they’d eat that pretty, little ass up as soon as you stepped foot beyond that bridge.”
you gasped, quietly, eyes widened at her obscene words. you could already feel your body betraying you, blood involuntarily heating up the plump of your cheeks.
the arm held sturdy against your prisoner was now weak, a second thought; not to her, no, that was accordingly.
calloused hands snaked their way to your waist, armored with enforcer gold, a symbol of integrity to wear, resolute.
your eyes flicked to the (god, she is attractive) woman near inches away; you were trapped in a lion’s den, she was already staring back at you.
“how di—when did you…”
so much for standing your ground—your stuttering voice gave it all away.
“what? get those things off?” she chuckled, motioning back behind her, “you were right ‘bout one thing, princess: i learned a whole deal in that ‘mess of a city’.”
she near whispered your quote, not hushed, but emphasized, troublingly so. her hands wandered, dangerously, coming to settle at the plush of your hips, hips that had you bent atop her. a deft thumb pushed pass your attire and gently circled into your bare skin.
“are you… are you gonna hurt me?” you pressed your lips in a fine line, apprehensively awaiting a dreaded answer.
but to your surprise, she paused, then snorted, and in a quick motion, she manhandled you to sit on her lap. you yelped in shock, your hands were rigid against her chest that you were so very close to now; stiff as a board as you feared for the worst.
“can’t a girl want somethin’ sweet before you send me to a cold, hard cell, huh?” now the finger in charge of exploring your supple skin came to swipe at your plush bottom lip. “but if you want it to hurt i can make that happen too.” her voice was sultry, thick with an insatiable desire.
your proximity gave you a chance to see the small initial tattooed on her cheek, “vi.” you spoke out loud, really only for you to memorize.
vi smirked, “yeah, princess? don’t wear it out just yet.”
your brows furrowed, pursing your lips; you tried to move, but vi had a firm hold on your hips that just wouldn’t let up… (not that you even tried that hard). “piltover station will be here soon… we can’t—i can’t be seen like this; this is unprofessional.”
“when’d you make that call?” honestly, vi was barely listening to your reluctance and excuses, busying herself with unfastening your gold belt that you hardly even noticed.
“an hour ago.”
“then we have an hour to ourselves. c’mon, do you really think ‘proper piltover station’ is any more worried about a call for an undercity scum than the rest of the hundred they receive a day? they’re preoccupied with the councilors after that attack… seems to me like they left you out the loop, hot stuff.”
you took offense to her insulting jab at your importance, disregarding her sing-song mockery of addressing piltover station. you reached for her wrist that was unbuttoning the blue fabric of your enforcer two-split skirt, “what is that supposed to mean?”
she took no notice to your grip and pushed aside the outer garment, glancing back up at you through that addictive, crimson hair. she gave a dry smirk, “didn’t mean to rile you up, princess—just meant that i could treat you better than them.”
that betraying flush tickled your cheeks once again, and you, rather hesitantly, let way of your grasp, allowing her to do what she needs.
she snorted, in an amused manner, tapping your thigh, “sit up.” how shameful it was for you, an enforcer, to take commands from anyone else—let alone an… undersider. yet, here you were, standing upright as she told you to, albeit a little more eager than intended; you hoped she hadn’t noticed.
she noticed.
her legs spread out on the chair, making her appear even larger than her stature gave her credit for. she bent over, resting her elbows on her thighs as she pulled at the hem of your khaki shorts. you assisted and looped two thumbs at the waistband to shimmy down your legs. your shorts pooled at your feet and vi leaned back to admire the sexy sight she had in front of her with a grin on her face.
a pretty enforcer, nervous as can be, with a half-undone uniform and pink, lace panties exposed just for her. what a contrasting view. you were captivating. already trained to take orders like a puppy, she’d think in her crude mind; you’d be her good girl for a while, you’d be so good for her.
with two fingers, she motioned for you to come sit back down on her lap; the way her legs manspread was inviting enough. you obliged, holding onto her broad shoulders.
those engrossing fingers came back to handle your hips, slowly moving to cup the mound of your ass and kneading. you huffed, painted nails digging into her trapezius.
“ya’ like pink, princess?” she mentioned your cute, lacey panties; although, now stained a darker shade.
your eyes flickered up to her hair before timidly searching anywhere else to keep your focus busy. vi found that cute, not admitting that that turned her on way more than it should.
“i don’t disdain it.” you purse your lips, “and quit calling me that.”
vi chuckled, “but you’re poised, like a princess.”
“you have no idea of me.”
“well, i know you’re risking your title just so i can get you off,” fingers go to trace the hem of your panties, her middle drags along your clit muffled by the fabric. she grins, “and by the looks of it, you’re enjoying the thrill.”
you gasp at the sensation, a feeling your pussy was aching for. “is it because you know we might get caught? geez, princess, you into that kind of thing?” she almost laughs at you, but not to mock you; she finds that hot as fuck.
adept hands push the annoying polyester to the side. fingers, rather spider-like, creep over your throbbing cunt; middle and index gather your pooling slick to act as lube as she glides over your clit.
you bite your lip to suppress a moan. you find your legs begin to tremble, being forced open by her own, keeping you spread for her to do as she likes.
“i didn’t know topsiders could be so dirty.” this time she does laugh. she rubs at your clit long enough for your heart rate to pick up, long enough for your head to find stability on her shoulder, long enough for you to become a mess in her hands… but, not long enough for you to get off just yet.
vi reaches down to your neglected hole, pressing her index atop it, deep enough for an audible squelch to echo through your office, which in turn makes vi groan. you mewl, nails digging deeper into the muscle of her back.
“not so poised now, though.” she mutters, mostly to herself. with your dripping slick, it takes nothing more than a swift movement for vi to slide her index inside you, bottoming out knuckles deep. you keen, arching off her chest. the scratch from her bandages only added fuel to the fire.
“fuck.” vi’s grip on your hip strengthens, almost certainly leaving a prominent bruise later. “do that for me again, princess.”
and she didn’t have to ask because as she pulls her finger almost fully out, tantalizingly slow, she greedily shoves it right back in, curling the tip of it to hit in that, god, that perfect spot you know so well.
and, again, you keen, long and guttural—like a silent scream. subconsciously, your pelvis bucks into her hand, searching for more than you could even take.
after a few minutes of this, vi deems herself your voice and determines you’re ready for two. she pulls out entirely, much to your dismay, teasing you with a pause.
you brace yourself for something that never comes, and you huff, slightly pushing yourself up off her shoulder,
“vi… don’t st—“
and she stuffs her middle and index into your pretty, impatient pussy.
“ah!”
“who said i was stopping, pumpkin? we just started.” you slam your head back to its assigned spot.
vi thought she was right in this moment: you looked a complete and utter mess. it was one thing to fuck a pretty girl, it was another thing that she had a topsider, an officer—someone who, to piltover, was a woman of dignity and honor… a rich, privileged somebody who hated zaunites, found them filthy and worthless…hunched over her shoulder with a sopping cunt you were practically begging her to abuse. now that’s ironic. (and was you coming undone for her maybe a little bit of a victory for her hatred of topside, that she was degrading—fucking someone so noble?)
“shit, baby,” vi cursed, biting her lip. her whole train of thought did nothing but make her more horny, and she pumped extra hard this time, making sure even the graze of her knuckle filled you up.
“when’s the last time someone’s fucked you like this?” she chuckled—you hated her smug little laugh.
you sneered, just not before you moaned into the crook of her neck, breath fanning over her black-inked tattoos. “that’s, fuck, none of your concern, underside.” you spat, but, really, your words held no weight, not like this.
“hey, no need for the name calling, princess; if you’re a virgin too that’s totally fine—honestly kinda hot.” she teased, grabbing the mound of your ass to raise you up and slam back down on her fingers. you cried, your hands instinctively reaching up to tangle in that (rememberable) cherry hair.
“i’m not!—i’ve had—ugh! i’ve done this plenty of times… not that, ah, you should need to know.”
“oh yeah? you fuck a lot of your inmates then?… or is that just my privilege?” vi leaned into your ear, knowing that’d get you going. and what do you know? it did.
and you would’ve argued back, head picked up and everything, had she not curled her fingers the way she did or twist to find an ever better playing field or, god! even the lechery in her voice had you toppling over, had you right there! yes, fuck, right there!
“fuck, vi, right there! keep going! yeah, right there, ugh!” you moaned, legs shaking, trying desperately to close and hide away from how fucking good this felt.
you bucked into her hand and you didn’t have to tell vi twice because she was already pumping extra hard and faster than before, with a combination of her thumb rubbing circles into your swollen clit.
“shit, princess. almost there?” she already knew the answer. she was groaning as if she was fucking herself; just the pure sight of you, of this, was enough… although, she’d need to engrave this memory into her brain and use it later to get off herself (she could use this picture of you to get off for years it felt like).
“vi!”
you sang like gospel, pulling her hair like you’d fall if you hadn’t. you came hard, right on her bandaged fingers and she road you through it until the only thing you could hear in the room was the lewd, wet noises coming from your hole.
she stuffed you full of your own juices and at that point, you couldn’t tell if that or her hands were more filling.
you were both panting, one more than the other. vi hoisted your left leg over hers to hold you bridal style as you settled down. bringing her hand to the light, she pulled apart her middle and index to watch your slick web between them and she weakly laughed.
blue eyes looked over to the gold, industrial clock you had sitting on your work-desk, reading a quarter til’ 12. she sighed, picking you up with her before setting you on the chair you had originally handcuffed her to.
“looks like i gotta go, princess.” she feigned innocent, as if this whole interaction was a drive by. one by one she picked up discarded clothing and crouched at your legs to dress you back up. you, too tired to protest to being treated like a child, let her dress you like a doll, even buckling up your belt.
you watched as she went to write something on a piece of sticky note paper you had sitting by your confidential files before turning to walk out the door, running a hand through her hair.
“you can’t leave—you’re… you’re under arrest.” there was no confidence in your tone, just a fucked out raspy voice.
vi stopped before leaving, hands in her pockets, “tell ‘em officer kiramann already came to pick me up, they won’t give you trouble.” she threw the hood of her red jacket over her head, reaching for the doorknob.
“oh, and… meet me at my place if you wanna do this again… okay, princess?”
#arcane#arcane vi#vi arcane#vi lol#lol#league of legends#arcane smut#smut#lol smut#league of legends smut#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn arcane#vi x reader#vi x you#vi x y/n#vi smut#vi x reader smut#vi x you smut#vi x y/n smut#vi arcane x reader#arcane x reader#arcane x you#arcane x female reader#lesbian#vi arcane one shot#oneshot
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
the more posts and reviews i look at the more i sense that the way my brain interpreted the movie that led to the last 10 minutes leaving me a sobbing wreck who had to scream into a pillow on the floor is Not the common consensus lmao
#to feel the need to violently and irrevocable change something about yourself in order to be in a relationship bc the alternative is even#worse. does your initial connection vanish when something beyond your control changes some aspect of you?#is it better to bash your head against a wall until your nose bleeds everyday so you don’t have to be alone or is it better to be alonewhere#every ounce of potential connection is treated as a crime by your peers? or is it better to brave the city alone where it is literally a#crime to be single. this says more about me than about the movie but#if i lived in that world i would rather go the way of the biscuit woman than blind myself for love. i don’t want a forced connection that#i’d be prepared to kill a friend over just to keep the lie secret from the world. i have more to say but im stopping now lmfao
0 notes
Text
GOT MILK? | TOJI FUSHIGURO.
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. what happens when you invite an unexpected guest into your home? lucky for you, this one cares about your health!
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. fem!reader / milkman!toji, smut, cliche porn trope, size kink, coercion, food play, a bit prey/predator dynamics, 1950s-esque setting, toji’s huge, unprotected “love-making”, mdni <3.
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 3.3k
𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! it’s been a while, hasn’t it? i’m so so sorry i’ve been away from writing :( but trust me, we’re so back !! this is actually my first full length toji fic n i’m so excited 4 you all to read it . . i wanted to keep it light and cliche for all of our pleasure. this took me about two months to write on n off, but !! if you like this n enjoy it, please comment / reblog ! i’ll make you all a glass of seraph’s special milk, thank u ♡ a big shoutout 2 @gh4ul for beta reading ! i love u so muchie!!
fluorescent shimmers of the setting sun pierced through your living room window, beyond pastel curtains, and onto the curvature of your face as if the sun itself used you like its own canvas while you lounged upon the couch. soft murmurs of whichever television show you had fallen asleep watching hummed within the four thin walls of your flat, creating the perfect ambiance for a peaceful late afternoon nap.
it wasn’t as though you had done much during the day, aside from indulging in your boredom with the mundane baking of cookies, taking two batches to get right, alongside tidying your room.
although currently, you slept soundly in a way that came off as daunting to others; torso clad in a thin tank top paired with little pink shorts that could’ve been mistaken for underwear by any onlooker, with your hand rested just below your abdomen, chest rising and falling in the most harmonious synchronicity.
vulnerable, like prey unknowing of its predator.
fortunately, the neighborhood you resided in was safe. some sweet suburban city where everyone knew each other more than they knew themselves, and the thought of anything being remotely out of place sent residents into a frenzy. it was innocuous to assume that not much out of the ordinary took place. or that was the case, until —
knock, knock.
“delivery for y/n?”
stirring in your sleep, you prayed that the owner of the baritone voice that had woken you up was just some figment of your imagination, some effect of unintended lucid dreaming perhaps. yet, upon blinking open unfocused, bleary eyes, and the loud couplet of knocks on the door following soon after, you were pulled out of dreamland and into the vexing reality.
three more firm knocks paired with a gruff tone calling out flatly, “delivery,” was enough to have your body sashaying involuntarily to your front door.
whoever was outside was insinstently persistent. if they had thought to put even an ounce more strength into those compact knocks, your door would have been long gone by now.
“coming!” the dulcet tone of your voice was riddled with exhaustion and you were unsure if the sound had resonated with the stranger on the other end, your internal query being answered once the relentless abuse of your front door had ceased.
you had ignored the fabric of your meager top, not quite noticing the way the strap so slightly dropped from your shoulder, leaving such a beautiful expanse of skin exposed to, and for, anyone. swiftly, you had opened the door for your unexpected visitor.
there, stood some dark haired man, taller and bigger than any other man you’ve known in the neighborhood. he must have had to be over 6’0, with a stature so broad, chiseling muscles barely hidden underneath the thin fabric of his uniform. his white hat tilted upward, and as your eyes descended, you caught his matching suit worn just a bit too taut. it was as if the first two buttons of his shirt were hanging on for dear life to cover what massive mounds his chest was. not to mention, how his thighs were close to breaking free from their confines.
to the right of the struggling buttons, sat a little pin that read “toji.”
he didn’t put any effort into a friendly introduction, the only hint of expression you could trace was the furrowing of his brows at his forehead as he gave you an unreadable stare.
“was told to drop this off here.” toji spoke. he held out a small wired basket with two glass jars of white liquid, seeming to be milk. maybe it had been your fuzzy, half-awake mind, and what little thoughts were up there, but you couldn’t recall a time where you had placed an order for some strange fluid.
was it a thing the neighborhood would do every once in a while?
as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and gave the handsome stranger a soft pout, you spoke airily. “what’s in the jar, sir?”
his demeanor shifted into pure displeasure, not fancying the query your hollow brain came up with. it remained undoubtedly clear that he wasn’t the most amiable of folks.
“it’s milk, darling.”
“i didn’t order any milk, sorry.” that same pout remained on your lips as you shook your head for the milkman to end a seemingly quick conversation, but just as you were about to close the door back, the pressure of his strong hand against the wood made your attempt futile.
to your surprise, a miniscule smirk was evident on his scarred features. “no?” his narrowed eyes drank you in from the bottom up as if you were lemonade on a scorching summer’s day. those same eyes skillfully darting from the spill of your breasts in your little top, up to your pretty pursed lips and doe-like orbs.
anyone could tell from a mile away what type of girl you were — the type that toji devilishly enjoys.
it wasn’t often he was presented with a doll such as yourself. sure, he could pick the mind of others increasingly well, could tell just when someone was planning to set him up (like some sort of off-duty criminal) but with you, it was as though not a thought could be lodged behind vacant eyes. everything about you was pure, untainted.
he stepped closer toward you, his foot conveniently placed between the barrier between your home and the outside. “try it for yourself. it’s fresh, and organic.” as he spoke, the glint in his deep gray eyes had overturned into a sly darkness. and when you shook your head at his advance, he only scoffed, peering in closer until he fully stepped foot into your abode.
“oh, c’mon,” vexation laced his tone. “don’t make my job harder than it already is.”
his hauntingly large frame eclipsed yours, the sun casting a backlit shadow behind his silhouette, like something out of a 50’s horror film. at that moment, you were in no position to deny his simple request.
it was just milk, perhaps he wanted an honest review.
your eyes met his, and you swallowed thickly as you hoped that courage would fill the void in the pit of your stomach. “how much for a glass?” softly, your question floated in tense air. a smirk upticks on his face as he reaches into the basket, holding up the larger jar of the two settled in the basket.
“for you, it’s free of charge.”
maybe you should’ve questioned the insubstantial value, for nothing in this economy was truly ever free.
you take the bottle from him, popping open the lid and taking a sip. the unnerving feeling of greedy eyes caused goosebumps to form over your skin. the liquid certainly had a thicker texture to it, possibly an ode to its organic nature; and as you sipped and sipped, you failed to notice the drippage that rolled amply down the side of your mouth to your chest. toji, however, caught sight of it — because, of course he did.
after you had your sample size, you took a manicured thumb to glossy lips, wiping your bottom lip to collect the remnants before taking your tongue to your thumb to lick up the remains.
in that moment, you reminded him of a kitten, some meek animal vastly trusting of the others in its environment.
his smirk grew wider and he closed the door behind him as he stepped closer, now merely a few inches away from your figure. “oh, but miss,” his voice full with anything but a genuine concern for you, he traced his finger along the trail of milk that lingered at your chest. “you missed a spot.”
his sudden touch startled you in such a way that shifted your body to jolt once you felt his cool fingertips. that same motion forced you to completely forget about the open jar in your hand, accidentally spilling an even larger amount of milk all over yourself in the process.
drenched in the liquid, your top became practically see-through with only the sight of your pert nipples showing underneath. it's candy for the eye, toji’s at least.
“you gonna keep that on, princess? you’ll catch a cold.” his voice feigns concernment towards you, as if he pitied the pathetic state he put upon you. in that moment, sheepishness clouds your empty head, and if you could cower away, you would; but instead, you took him up on his suggestion, turning your back to him and doing away with the thin barrier.
“gimme a minute to change.” you shyly said as you looked back at him with a hand barely covering your chest.
how cute you were, so willing to invite a stranger into your home and even strip for him — were you always this welcoming?
before you could scuttle to your room, you felt a firm grip on your arm. toji, now clearly having fun with you, had given you a menacing smirk along with a tsk of his tongue. “you’re still all wet,” he turned you back around to face him in one swift motion. “let me clean you off.” his hand slowly trailed up your arm and to the swell of your breasts where he cupped one in his large, calloused palm. the feeling of his rough fingertips over your bare skin caused you to break out in a shudder. “s-sir, i don’t think..”
he shushed you the moment his thumb rolled over your hard nipple, milk still dripping down your skin. with one hand, he pulled you in tight by your waist, and with the other, he aided himself in wrapping his lips around your nipple. you could only describe his touch as hungry, rough as if the opportunity to take advantage of your vulnerability would slip away into thin air. he locked steel grey eyes with you as he did so. once he got his fill of toying with your sensitive mounds, he switched his sucking motions into little bites.
his deep groans and your soft whines filled the space instantaneously. he’d rotate from one breast to the other until he felt you growing weak in his hold, the squeeze of your thighs telling him everything he needed to know about your desire. and when he felt satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he unlatched.
it felt as if all air had rushed out of your system from the raspy whines you had let out during his ministrations. you took a moment to catch your breath and regain composure as he stood up tall to his original position.
oddly enough, comfortability grew within you, possibly the adrenaline of a handsome stranger feeding your mind with illicit thoughts. “am i all clean now?” your voice comes out shaky, feeble with lust, and as your eyes scanned his formidable appearance, down to the bulge that left his sheer size to anything but the imagination, you grew greedier.
“squeaky fucking clean.” his response comes off as a growl. “how about some real milk as a reward, sweetheart?”
you tilted your head, as a confused puppy would, looking up at him with spacey eyes. “real milk? i thought i was just drinking it?” he smiled at your perplexity, finding you too cute to let go. “that milk,” he pointed at the bottle you set on the counter beside you. “isn’t as organic as it claims. you need the real thing in ya.”
toji fumbles with his belt buckle, unfastening it until he could comfortably whip his cock out. you had never seen something so large, so girthy that it instilled a blend of fear and excitement within you. “on your knees, pretty thing.” he demanded. “gotta make sure my girl grows big and strong.”
you complied, obviously. when someone as sturdy as him tells you to do something, it’s only natural that you do it.
with your weight now rested on your knees, your job was easy. you wrapped a feeble hand around the base of his cock, mouth agape in bewilderment that he could barely fit in the cusp of your hand. toji let out a hiss under his breath once your hand began to diligently slide up and down his shaft. slick dribbled into the rapture of your enclosed fist from just how turned on he was. as you continued to teasingly pump him, your tongue darted to place gentle kitten licks paired with tender kisses to his angry tip. “you’re real confident now, aren’t ya?” he goads, though not necessarily in a mirthful manner.
a soft pout forms at your lips upon hearing his words, urging you to increase your pace by a minuscule amount. once you had gotten familiar with the monster in your palm, you wrapped your lips around the head, slowly inching yourself down his shaft until your nose met the unruly hairs of his pelvis. he was heavy in your jaw, a telltale sign that you’d end up with a strong ache that’d take days to soothe; and the throb of his length only led to the gush in your panties.
as you began to bob your head, toji threw his head back, large hands gripping at your jaw to keep you nice and puckered for him. the sensation of his plush tip bullying the back of your throat causes you to moan, a sound, and a feeling, that toji doesn't miss. you pick up your rhythm, but shortly after, toji starts up his; slamming his cock into your unexpecting mouth with no remorse.
rough ministrations urged you to gag until you came to ignore the feeling and focus on his pleasure, innocent and teary eyes showing through a wall of thick lashes up at him. what a cocky bastard.
“c’mon, you can take more, can’t ya?” he goads, his vocables resonating in a choppy cadence underneath the guise of his groans. “dontcha want milk?”
the mix of saliva and his precum trailed from your mouth as his heavy balls slammed against your chin. you took notice of how his vigorous pace faltered, signally an orgasm just seconds away.
one thrust. two thrust. three.
he’d managed to hold your face to his pelvis as he fucked through his orgasm, a deep groan bellowing through the air while he painted your throat in his seed.
what a liar. he didn’t taste anything like milk.
slowly, he pulls away and spurts the last few drops of cum onto your swollen lips, where he took much needed amusement in your starry eyed gaze.
your heavy pants were like music to his ears, something he wished he could etch into his memory for years to come.
“it’s all messy.” you mewled, licking at the seed that dripped to your lips. his hands were glacial as you felt them on your face while he leaned down to be eye level with you. “oh, i know. lemme take care of that.” he swiped his tongue against your bottom lip, drinking in his own orgasm before taking you into a heated kiss.
it was a brief moment, so brief you were too lightheaded to even realize how he manhandled you into the perfect position — bent over to touch your toes.
he pulled away, roughly tugging at your little shorts until they pooled at your ankles. you felt him slide his cock over your panties just before pushing them to the side to line it up with your slit.
all toji wanted to do in that moment was slide right in, but he knew he couldn’t. you just weren’t wet enough to handle all of him. and besides, he definitely didn’t want to deal with a whining princess suggesting that it “doesn’t fit.”
instead, he slid his sensitive cock between your folds. “gotta get you nice ‘nd ready,” he spoke while reveling in the way that his tip catched at your poor, neglected clit. “feel flattered, i don’t do this for everybody.”
each slide jolted your body as the slightest tinge of pleasure coursed within you. it wasn’t enough to get you feeling close, no, but it was ample in gushing more slick from your hole.
“t-toji, sir, please..” you had let out a soft, vexed sigh at the lack of feeling, wiggling your hips to create friction in any type of way.
it reigned pointless, as most things did with toji. he was too busy focused on the sheen covering his cock from just toying with your angelcunt that whatever nonsense you were spouting was irrelevant to him. he continued his motions until the tightening of your core and fluttering of your pussy told him everything he needed to know.
satisfied with the level at which he teased you, he halted. just before you could fucking cum. you let out a frustrated whine that didn’t mean much to him, agitated by the loss of sensation.
in mere moments, he was pushing himself past your walls, stretching you out while your little cunt struggled to accommodate his size. “w-what if it doesn’t fit..?” you managed to babble out in your pathetic state.
oh, if your nosy neighbors knew that sweet little princess down the street was getting her cunt stretched out by the milkman, they would have a conniption.
toji smirked at your concern, ultimately brushing you off while continuing to urge himself even deeper. “let’s just make it fit then.”
the feeling of being stuffed full was unlike anything you’d experienced in the past. your past partners weren’t much to moan at, but toji? he had you grasping at any surface to give you leverage. as soon as he bottomed out, you could feel the tip rubbing so deliciously against the hollow of your cervix, the tinge of pain going unnoticed from how riddled with desire you were for him. with confirmation that he was fully inside, toji began to set a rough pace, strokes deep and firm enough to have you jolting forward with every thrust.
you scrambled to hold onto anything for dear life, afraid that your knees would grow weak and give out underneath your own weight. though, he kept his hands taut at your hips, only speeding up his potent thrusts to taunt you even more for your lack of stability.
fucked dumb within the first few seconds, drool dribbled past your lip, your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as you tried to take everything you were given.
with the intense way your walls were hugging around his cock, he couldn’t help but let out something of a deep, guttural groan. you had reached behind you to press a feeble hand to his abdomen, hoping it would ease his ministrations, yet your adorable action only caused the opposite.
he took your wrists in his one hand, pulling you up to hit deeper within your walls. “fuck! ‘s too d-deep!” you cried out, that familiar coil of pleasure tightening within your being, and to your dismay, he only held you closer against his chest, other hand gripping at your jaw while his cock milked your gspot for all it’s worth.
“too deep? this too deep for ya?” toji taunts. “i thought you knew how to take dick, you sure looked like it.”
his grip at your face only tighten an ounce more as he waited for whatever nonsense you could muster out.
“i-i can..! i c’n take it!”
only seconds later did your high come crashing down, sending your body into a flutter of shocks. a sensation so perfervid, it had your mind hazy while you creamed all over his cock.
following suit, in a bout of thrusts, toji was painting your insides with his warm wet seed, only pulling out once he felt you go limp in his hold.
“don’t tap out on me now, you haven’t even paid for the milk.”
#𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑬𝑳𝑩𝑹𝑨𝑻 𝑾𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑺 ┆jujutsu kaisen.#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk toji#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji x reader#toji x reader smut#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x reader smut#toji x you#toji fushiguro x you#toji x y/n#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji jujutsu kaisen#toji jjk#toji fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk fanfic#jujustu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x reader smut
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
100 Vocabulary Words for Gothic Fiction | For Writers
Hello Writers! I've put together a list of 100 words to help you expand your vocabulary for writing gothic fiction in October. I categorized the words for easy reference. I did some research using thesauruses and dictionaries to compile this list for you. I hope you find it helpful! 👻🎃
Atmospheric Words
Tenebrous - dark and gloomy
Oppressive - overwhelming and unpleasantly powerful
Ominous - suggesting evil or harm is imminent
Eerie - strange and frightening
Uncanny - mysterious and unsettling
Nefarious - wicked or criminal
Malevolent - having evil intentions
Sinister - giving the impression of evil
Melancholy - deep sadness
Lugubrious - mournful or dismal
Sombre - dark and gloomy
Dreary - dull and depressing
Desolate - empty and lonely
Bleak - cold and depressing
Dank - unpleasantly damp and cold
Character Descriptions
Pallid - abnormally pale
Gaunt - thin and bony
Haggard - looking exhausted and unwell
Cadaverous - corpse-like
Wan - pale and sickly
Spectral - ghost-like
Enigmatic - mysterious and difficult to understand
Brooding - appearing darkly thoughtful
Tortured - suffering mentally or physically
Macabre - disturbing due to focus on death or injury
Architectural Features
Gothic - relating to medieval style architecture
Dilapidated - in a state of disrepair
Decrepit - worn out or ruined due to age
Crumbling - breaking into small fragments
Decaying - rotting or decomposing
Ramshackle - in a state of severe disrepair
Crypt - underground room or vault
Turret - small tower on a building
Parapet - low protective wall along the edge of a roof
Buttress - structure built against a wall for support
Supernatural Elements
Apparition - ghost or spirit
Phantasm - figment of the imagination
Specter - ghost or phantom
Wraith - ghost or spirit
Revenant - person who returns as a spirit after death
Ethereal - extremely delicate and light
Otherworldly - belonging to an imaginary or spiritual world
Paranormal - beyond normal explanation
Preternatural - beyond what is normal in nature
Occult - supernatural or magical
Emotions and States of Mind
Dread - great fear or apprehension
Foreboding - fearful apprehension
Trepidation - fear or anxiety about something that may happen
Anguish - severe mental or physical pain
Despair - complete loss of hope
Melancholia - deep and long-lasting sadness
Hysteria - exaggerated or uncontrollable emotion
Delirium - state of confusion and hallucination
Madness - state of severe mental illness
Obsession - persistent disturbing preoccupation with an idea or feeling
Gothic Settings
Moor - area of open, uncultivated upland
Wasteland - barren or desolate area
Labyrinth - complex maze-like structure
Catacomb - underground cemetery
Dungeon - dark underground prison
Mausoleum - building housing a tomb or tombs
Sepulcher - small room or monument where a dead person is laid
Necropolis - large cemetery, especially an ancient one
Citadel - fortress that commands a city
Monastery - building occupied by a community of monks
Weather and Natural Phenomena
Tempest - violent windy storm
Miasma - unpleasant or unhealthy smell or vapor
Fog - thick cloud of tiny water droplets
Mist - cloud of tiny water droplets in the air near ground level
Gloom - partial or total darkness
Twilight - soft glowing light from the sky when the sun is below the horizon
Umbra - the fully shaded inner region of a shadow
Penumbra - the partially shaded outer region of a shadow
Crepuscular - resembling twilight; dim
Tenebrous - dark, shadowy, or obscure
Literary Devices and Narrative Elements
Foreshadowing - warning or indication of a future event
Omen - event regarded as a portent of good or evil
Portent - sign or warning that a momentous or calamitous event is likely to happen
Harbinger - person or thing that announces or signals the approach of another
Presage - sign or warning that something will happen
Doppelganger - look-alike or double of a living person
Grotesque - comically or repulsively ugly or distorted
Gothic double - character representing the duality of human nature
Unreliable narrator - narrator whose credibility is compromised
Frame narrative - story within a story
Liminal Spaces and Concepts
Threshold - strip of wood or stone forming the bottom of a doorway
Liminal - occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold
Betwixt - in between
Interstitial - of, forming, or occupying interstices (small spaces between things)
Twilight zone - undefined or intermediate area between two distinct states
Purgatory - place or state of temporary suffering or expiation
Netherworld - imaginary subterranean world of the dead
Abyss - deep or seemingly bottomless chasm
Void - completely empty space
Chthonic - concerning, belonging to, or inhabiting the underworld
Miscellaneous Gothic Terms
Sublime - of such excellence, grandeur, or beauty as to inspire awe
Ineffable - too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words
Eldritch - weird and sinister or ghostly
Atavistic - relating to or characterized by reversion to something ancient or ancestral
Numinous - having a strong religious or spiritual quality; indicating the presence of a divinity
Happy writing, and Happy October! 📜🕯️- Rin T.
#GothicFiction#WritingTips#VocabularyBuilding#DarkLiterature#AspringAuthors#thewriteadviceforwriters#writeblr#writing#on writing#how to write#writers and poets#writers block#creative writing#writing tips#writers on tumblr#authors#author#book writing#authors of tumblr#women writers#writerscommunity#writer#authors on tumblr#writersblock#fantasy writer#resources for writers#helping writers#writers#writerslife#writersociety
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Birds in their nest Part 18
masterpost
Danny woke relaxed. From his brow to the tips of his toes he was relaxed. Which was the first sign something was off. Relaxed was then followed swiftly by confused and wary. He stayed carefully still and silent as he took the space around him in.
The room was darker than his, heavier somehow in that darkness. It was quieter too. There was no noise of the city seeping through the annoyingly thin windows that looked out over the streets of Gotham. He was in a bed, though, and a very comfortable one at that.
(He forcefully pushed back the part of his mind that was still a scared boy worried about being captured and vivisected or cloned again or something else horrible.)
Slowly, Danny opened his eyes. The bed was more than comfortable, it was impressively ornate dark wood that almost faded into the dark blue walls. Somehow even the walls felt expensive. Danny figure it must be the wood detailing that ran around the room.
As he sat up up just slightly, everything clicked into place: the ballet, Bruce insisting on giving Danny a ride, and not remember the end of the ride. He must be at Wayne Manor. He must have fallen asleep in the limo. It was beyond mortifying. They Waynes had just been doing him a favor out of some sense of charity or pity and he’d ended up being a burden.
Danny collapsed back into the bed and covered his face with a groan. This wasn’t even some one night stand where he could slip out quietly or something; he had to see them. He had to say thank you and sorry and please don’t fire me for being weird. Gods, why couldn’t he just be normal for one night?
Even without wings or turning into a giant, eldritch bird he was a mess, Danny thought, slightly hysterically. Well, he might as well get up and face the music so that he could call a ride leave.
If only getting up wasn’t such a problem. Now that he was moving, Danny felt the ache of the missed doses of medication in every thread of muscle. He didn’t even have anything to take, not having one of his usual bags with him. Slowly, Danny got his feet under him and got himself standing. He breathed through the shaking muscles.
The change of clothing was a welcome sight. The suit (that he was totally going to have to get dry cleaned now) felt more than a little stale after sleeping in it. The provided leisure were was much more comfortable and, somehow as he pulled on the over sized hoodie, familiar feeling.
As he stepped out into the quiet hallways, Danny have wondered if he could make a break for it, pain and all.
“Good to see you awake, sir.”
Danny jolted so hard at the sudden voice he might have pulled something.
The stately elderly man that approached looked less than sympathetic. “My apologies, sir. If you will hand me your suit, I will see it dry cleaned and send to your office.”
“Oh, no, that’s fine, I’ve been enough trouble already—”
“I insist.”
Meekly, Danny handed over the suit after he had fumbled out his phone and watch from the pile. The other man took it with far more grace.
“If you will follow me, sir, I will direct you too breakfast on the way.”
“Right. Thank you Mr…?”
“Pennyworth, sir,” Mr. Pennyworth said and started off.
Danny scrambled after him and tried not to hobble too much even though he could feel his left knee threatening to buckle with every step. It was just a twinge. He would get home (after breakfast apparently) and take his medication and he’d be fine.
He’d be slowly turning into something eldritch and unknowable, but he’d be fine.
When Danny got to the able, it was already rather full though not everyone seemed that awake.
“They’re not morning people,” Duke explained with a sunny smile when he spotted Danny.
“Hn.” Bruce agreed articulately.
Danny smiled despite his current embarrassment. “I can see that, but I don’t think that I can talk considering last night. I am so sorry that I fell asleep in the car like that. I swear I don’t normally just crash like that. You should have just woken me up so that I wouldn’t be—”
“Danny,” Bruce interrupted. His voice was a low, sleepy rumble. Danny felt himself blush. “It’s no burden on us. You obviously needed the rest since you didn’t even wake once. I just hope that we didn’t make you uncomfortable.”
“Best sleep I’ve had in a while,” Danny admitted. “But I really don’t want to be any trouble to—”
This time it was Cass cutting Danny, off as she swept into the room and pressed a quick kiss to Danny’s cheek, then Bruce’s, and a few of her siblings as she made her way to a seat.
“Sit. Eat,” Cass signed and motioned to a seat next to Bruce.
Danny felt it best to give in and do as he was told. This family was just very confusing.
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
YAKUZA!TOJI X MILF!READER —aka toji on some joe goldberg bullshit
🎞️ 𝐒𝟏 𝐄𝟐:
⟢ rating: mdni 18+ stalking, yuji is yakuza!sukuna x reader child, toji is still delulu af, size-kink, milf kink, breeding kink, voyeurism, dilf!toji, dissociative sexual fantasies, sukuna is an asshole, masturbation, killing fantasies, obsessive tendencies, heavy manipulation, brooding, yandere fluff, cute kid megumi.
⟢ episode run time: 𝟖.𝟕𝐤 ⟢ episode list: m.list ⟢ subscriber access: please comment on m.list to be tagged, rather than individual episodes as its easier for me to track. ⟢ director's note: e2 is here!! sorry for the initial issues! i hope you guys enjoy as we go deeper into toji's delulu, it's so much fun writing from his perspective. i feel like with each epi he only gets worse, hfsvsdjkfhvbsdj. he's still daddy tho.
The sky has since fallen completely dark, but the city lights of Tokyo still twinkle brightly in the distance, drowning out any stars. The light pollution still appears beautiful though, as a comforting beacon of civilization in the surrounding darkness.
The atmosphere, which had previously been so violently vibrant, has now quieted to a muted calm as the world slows down, whipping cool night air around Toji’s tense frame on his balcony.
However, it does fuck all to soothe the seared edges of his temper.
Nor does the serene scene do anything to calm the heated exchange still taking place inside your condo.
Your domestic dispute with Sukuna fiercely rages on.
Toji savors the last few puffs of his cigarette before discarding it and quickly lighting another. Chain smoking is his last salvation, lest the persistent urge to protect you completely overtakes him and causes him to act rashly.
The current state of the organization had suspicions at an all-time high. Toji couldn’t afford that considering who he was dealing with and what all could come in between the two of you should he err from the plan.
Closing his eyes, Toji manages to regain control by doing the one thing that never failed to pacify him—thinking of you, of course.
Both the sweet poison and the bitter antidote to Toji, you do nothing but constantly plague his psyche.
But perhaps it’s that he knows you need him as much as he realizes he needs you.
Over the course of time he had watched you, it didn’t take long for Toji to conclude that you only chose to remain with Sukuna for the security he provided. Preservation and the obligations of motherhood were the only logical motivations you could have.
It was glaringly apparent that Sukuna didn’t love you.
Even a blind man could see the truth of it.
Sukuna only visited you on rare occasions, when yakuza business took him beyond the central city limits, as Toji’s own surveillance and connections had revealed.
And whenever he did show up, it usually led to arguments between the two of you. If you had indeed loved Sukuna at one point you weren’t foolish enough to hold onto any of those illusions now.
Moreover, the subject of illusions—Toji had been privy to having many fantasies of you.
Weathering away at the stone around his heart he strived his whole life to build—only to then rebuild once again after his late wife—addictingly sweet visions of you so swiftly demolish the walls he set in place.
Toji allowed himself many hopeful images of what life could be like with you.
A life of ease.
That said, it would never be too easy.
Toji is still a yakuza himself and he knew the organization would never let him walk away entirely.
Nevertheless, his role was somewhat unique—an executive assassin was almost unheard of. Toji took on as many kills as he did as a way to numb and distract himself, not because it was required of him or he couldn’t pass it off to another. And ever since he’d laid eyes on you he had no desire to busy himself with anything other than you.
Toji takes pleasure in knowing he wouldn’t ever have to be away from you for long too.
As it happens, he already owns a spacious five-bedroom home just outside Tokyo in Chiba—the previous home he had hoped to share with his late wife. Toji had planned to surprise her with it once she left the hospital.
Yet instead of leaving the hospital with Megumi’s mother by his side, Toji had walked out alone. Numbed to the world, his hand had gripped the sleek black urn that had mockingly held her remains—along with his shattered hopes.
And as a result, no one had even crossed the threshold since the purchase was made.
But that would change though now that there would be the four of you to breathe life into the home.
Who else could give you that kind of life but Toji?
Certainly not Sukuna.
Toji would give you everything if you let him—but you weren’t an easy conquest, something he learned quickly as you prove it to him time and time again.
⟡
Toji recalls your second encounter with a sharpened clarity. It had taken him only two weeks to meticulously study your habits. The encounter had been carefully orchestrated, but despite his planning, the day hadn’t quite unfolded as Toji anticipated to say the least.
Parked down on the block of your typical walking path, Toji sat in his blacked-out Mercedes, keeping an eye on his rear-view mirror monitoring your approach. The mirror also showed Megumi, who was peacefully dozing in the backseat.
Heh, yeah he’d made damn sure to have the kid with him back then too.
Hardly older than 18 months and already a lady-killer, Megumi never failed to melt the heart of any woman who laid eyes upon his abundant chubby-cheeked cuteness.
Not like Toji had ever really needed to expend the effort before now. He knew just a mere look from him could get panties leaking, but you’d be harder to conquer than that.
Toji would enjoy taking his time, which if he thought about previously he would have deemed odd—he’d never been one to hold himself back or take his time with a woman.
Not anymore.
Not since her at least.
But the agony that had accompanied thoughts of his late wife had dulled considerably since he’d first started observing you.
A bonus of that being it no longer hurts as much to see Megumi—not when he would picture you rocking him in your arms.
Toji had even gone so far as to believe that she would have approved, that she would have liked you. He imagined she would have gladly chosen you to take care of both Megumi and him if she’d known you.
A familiar form appears in the rear-view mirror and Toji knows it’s game time.
Here you were, a reward for his diligence in tracking your habits, right on schedule.
Your features sparkled in the summer sun as you pushed Yuji along in his stroller, humming a tune while the child giggled along clapping.
The kid’s bubbly deposition had to come from you, Toji decided—surely none of it could have come from, nor been influenced by, Sukuna.
Toji wondered if you could even make a somber child like Megumi smile.
Biding in-wait until you passed, Toji snatched up Megumi and kept far enough distance so as to not alarm you of his presence.
His original plan had been to exit the car as you passed by and walk into the store together. But that all changed when Toji got the first glimpse of what you were wearing.
Toji would avoid being noticed by you, but your attire made it near impossible for him not to notice you.
The dress you wore was barely made modest enough to wear in public by the cardigan you draped over it. A less curvaceous woman could have likely pulled it off without turning a head.
However on your body, the way the thin loose fabric hung off your shape as it clung onto the moist areas of perspiration like a second skin—was fucking obscene.
Especially as despite your continued efforts, the crack of your ass kept gobbling up your sundress no matter how many times you subtly tried to yank it free.
Toji bet your ass could swallow his cock up just as well.
Damn.
Toji wished the walkup to the store was longer.
He’d never been one for prayer, but he would have started if whatever God deemed it fit right at that very moment to send an unanticipated gust of wind.
Your lack of panty line had his mind racing as to whether you wore a thong or were just slutty enough to be outside bare-assed in a short sundress mid-afternoon.
The green of your sundress matched his eyes too and Toji took it as another sign from the universe, he was on the right path by pursuing you like this.
You were doing this intentionally just to tease him, weren't you?
Hoping he’d see you like this and to tempt him into taking a peek, right?
Entering the grocery store, Megumi seated in-cart, Toji continued tailing you as you shopped.
True to the homemaker he previously confirmed you to be, you picked up mostly fresh produce, prime cuts of meat from the butcher, and some pantry baking items.
You were capable of more than just the frozen dinners he’d be more accustomed to if not for his Nanny’s cooking. She was a decent enough cook too—but she wasn’t you.
Nothing she cooked smelled a fraction as good as the mostly foreign, but appetizing, smells that wafted from under your door to fill the hall with warm spices.
The food you would make him, once Toji gets you settled in your new home, would definitely be much better.
You were truly perfect, well nearly so.
After tailing you down a few aisles, Toji suspects the one minor flaw you may have is you appeared to be the absentminded type.
How else could you be disregarding his overbearing presence as he continuously had put himself in your line of vision? Restlessness overtook Toji as he waited for you to look up and catch his eye, giving him a casual opening.
You had been too consumed with your phone to notice his attempts— which if he would guess, wouldn’t be successful anytime soon.
Grumbling, Toji had to take matters into his own hands if he wanted to shop with you at all.
Easy enough too, you were already so carelessly distracted.
Momentarily taking his eyes off you, Toji calculated how long it would take you to reach the end of the aisle. So as you moved from one aisle to the next, he casually nudged his cart into your path, creating a T-bone collision that made it look like you were at fault for leaving the aisle.
The bang was jolting enough to finally draw your attention.
“OH MY GOD! I WASN’T WATCHING WHERE I WAS GOING! I’M SO SORRY– I-I …Fushiguro?!”
Heh, took ya long enough to notice.
“Well, hey doll. Long time no see, ma.”
A flagrant lie.
Toji had seen you nearly everyday—you just hadn’t seen him.
He could tell you were flustered and embarrassed as multiple heads in the store had turned towards the two of you from the rattling collision.
You couldn’t apologize enough to Toji who was on cloud nine from your attention focused on him.
And as Toji had predicted, your attention was soon stolen by the black spikey haired baby boy seated in his cart.
“Oh wow Fushiguro!!—”
“—Toji, ma.”
A smirk bloomed across his features as you rolled your eyes at him, continuing your affections towards Megumi.
“—I remember you said you had a son but I didn’t know you had a little mini-me, he’s so adorable!”
Toji didn’t fail to notice the double—no triple, take you had given between himself and Megumi.
He also couldn't help but see how your big ass tiddies looked—like they wanted to bounce right outta that sundress and into his mouth—as you bent down to get a closer look at Megumi.
No bra too?
Oh, you’d surely be the death of him.
But Toji's cock wasn’t the only part of him swelling, his heart rate sped like crazy just from watching you fuss over Megumi so apologetically—much like a loving mom soothing her own child at the sight of him sniffling back tears.
For a moment, Yuji’s giggling drew Toji’s attention as the boisterous kid seemed to think it was some sort of ride. Needing no comfort at all, Yuji merrily squealed with laughter at the impact, continuing to stuff rice puff snacks into his little face.
The distraction kept Toji from warning you not to pick up Megumi and before he Toji knew what was happening— you scooped Megumi up. Settling Megumi into your arms, Toji noted you cradled him with the same joy radiating from you as you did Yuji—and much to Toji’s shock—Megumi let you.
It went without saying that Megumi wasn't the friendliest kid.
Toji suspected he had inherited that from him, along with his trademark scowl. The little terror was known to pitch a screaming fit if someone other than Toji or his nanny picked him up.
However, in your hold, Megumi appeared calm—angel-like even—as far as Toji was concerned.
More curious than upset, Megumi's tears dried at the corners of his eyes as he reached out to gently bop your nose with his tiny fist.
“Aye! Manners, kiddo.”
Toji chides Megumi, but inside he is amazed by the interaction.
Returning the gesture, you softly boop Megumi's nose with the pad of your finger, causing him to grab it in defiance, as you offered him softly whispered apologies for upsetting him.
This served to confirm in Toji’s mind the place you belonged in his life.
He couldn’t be wrong about you.
You were perfect.
Everything was aligning better than he could have hoped for.
“No harm done ma, Megumi can take a lick. Just like his daddy.”
You shook your head at Toji and gently rubbed soothing circles on Megumi’s back, cooing at him.
“Oh? So you’re growing up strong like your daddy, huh, Megumi?”
Megumi tilted his head slightly, his thumb resting gently in his mouth.
“Just don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re smooth like he does.”
You shot Toji a teasing smirk, immediately resulting in a half chub pressed against his suit pants.
Now you were… teasing him?
Oh, you had no fucking idea just how smooth Toji could be when he wanted. And Toji planned to put 3 more kids inside of you soon too, just as smoothly.
Those facts withstanding, Toji could tell his son hadn’t quite made up his mind about you yet. Megumi just blinked at you, but the fact that he wasn't screaming his head off was good enough for Toji.
“Don’t let the blank stare fool you, ma, he likes you. Trust, ya would know if he didn’t. Just takes him a while to warm up to most folks.”
You gave Toji another playful smile.
“Hmm, and wonder who he got that from?”
Primal urges surged in his veins as Toji wanted nothing more than to grab you in his arms at that moment, although Toji settled for countering with a smirk of his own.
“We’re not that bad ma—once you get to know us.”
Toji flashed a toothy grin at you, amused by the upward pull at the corners of your lips as you tried and failed, not to be entertained by him.
You gently set Megumi back down in the cart, smoothing down his onesie and safely buckling him in before turning back to Toji.
“I’m sure Megumi is a perfectly sweet kid, who just needs to come into his own a bit.”
“Eh? And whadda ‘bout me, mamas?”
“The jury is still out on you—Fushiguro.”
“—Toji,” he corrected once again—and again you responded by rolling your pretty eyes under those long thick lashes of yours.
Oh, Toji had just the thing for that ass since you liked to roll your eyes back that much.
Toji imagined how deeply they’d be lodged into your head once he stuffed you full of his fat cock—all in one go—effectively pushing your guts up into your chest.
Yeah, he had it bad for you—real bad.
Unable to stop the many intrusive sexual thoughts that would spring in his mind just from being close enough to smell the scent of your sweet vanilla and jasmine perfume.
Yet Toji couldn’t let the chance pass to press his limits with you.
“So—How about ya give me y’er number so we can set up a playdate, eh? Since ya think Megumi’s such a sweet kid and all, mamas.”
Caught off guard, you looked away from Toji in contemplation, chewing on your lip.
“Hm... I-I don't think that’s such a good idea, Fushiguro.”
You shift your stance a bit, taking on a defensive posture.
Tch, fuck. You’d be harder to crack than Toji originally thought.
Plus you seemed to still have some loyalty to Sukuna, even if you held no love for him.
But that was all fine, Toji calculates—a good thing even.
That just meant you would be all the more loyal to him once he did have you.
Thinking on his feet, Toji subtly switches tactics, playing dumb as he lifts a brow.
“Toji, doll, but ya know what I do for work. Think I gots time to be babysitting brats? What, s’not a good idea for the nanny to bring Gumi by?”
“Oh! Of course the nanny! Yeah that’s fine, erm, that's… sorry. I thought—”
“—thought, what mamas? You tryna get a playdate with me too? ”
Toji couldn’t hold back his laughter as your eyes widened in shock.
Embarrassment washed over you like a tsunami, intensified by Toji's teasing. You hid half your face with one hand while the other gripped the grocery cart handle so tightly that Toji half-expected it to snap off.
“Kiddin’ ma—lighten up a ‘lil eh? Ya left y’erself wide open for that one, doll.”
Sighing in defeat, you finally conceded to his charms, exchanging numbers with him solely so his nanny could coordinate the playdates.
“I see you think you got jokes, Fushiguro.”
Toji relished the win as your smile returned.
“Ya know I do—and it's Toji, mama.”
With that shift, Toji was pleased to see you gradually lower your guard around him, the ice between you started to melt. You continued your shopping together, Toji casually picking up a few items, occasionally seeking your advice on what to feed Megumi.
Truth be told, he had no idea. The nanny always handled all the shopping.
Subtly taking the lead in the conversation, Toji casually provoked you into revealing more about yourself. Details he couldn’t piece together—like where you grew up, what your life was like before Japan and what brought you here—all which he cataloged meticulously in his mind.
Toji wanted to ask how a smart girl planning to be a doctor with a full-ride exchange program scholarship to Tokyo University got knocked up by a dumb fuckhead like Ryomen Sukuna—but the very last thing he wanted you to think about when you were with him was Sukuna.
However, each piece of information he learned of you convinced him more of how much he wanted you—
“Oh yeah, Fushiguro! Despite what you said, I actually managed to make a friend!”
–all to himself.
Tch, a fuckin’ friend?
Toji’s demeanor darkened, but you didn’t notice—too busy humming to yourself while checking apples for bruises in the produce section.
Not like this information came as a particular surprise to him, Toji's eyes narrowed as he could guess exactly who it was right away.
Toji had seen the tall raven-haired woman whose afternoon jogs in the park so-conveniently aligned with your walks with Yuji. You both would exchange pleasantries as she admired your son, and you her commitment to fitness, that you would say you never seemed to have the time for these days.
Yet your interactions from what he had seen never ventured much beyond that.
Although Toji would normally oblige you a few friends, having a friend here would complicate his plans.
The women of The Nursery up until now had done such a good job in isolating you all on their own without him having to lift a finger. Toji was relying on their catty caste system to ultimately drive you into his arms, as the only person you could rely on.
Toji couldn’t have one of them ruin that.
He needed to know more about this ‘friend’ of yours.
How well have you gotten to know each other?
And in what ways?
The fact that this development happened right under his watchful eye, without him knowing the depth of it, had Toji cross to say the least.
Thankfully, your isolation had you starved for an attentive ear, so you were eager to spill your guts about your new friend to him.
And as the good future husband he’d be to you, Toji was sure to listen now as he would in the future—or at least appear like he was most of the time.
“She’s new like me! Well, not new I suppose, but back for a stay here with her fiancé until things calm down due to all the commotion happening overseas now.”
So that woman did intend to leave.
Good.
The sooner the better so Toji’s own hand wouldn’t have to be forced and your little ‘friend’ could be spared.
Toji couldn’t have anything or anyone coming in between the two of you—no matter the consequences from who they were.
“She doesn’t have any kids so I’ve been giving her tips and sharing how I dealt with Yuji this past year. She always seems to be busy though, so we haven’t really had the chance to really do anything—but she calls me often.”
Toji’s teeth clenched.
They dared to make phone contact even?
And bad girl—you’d been so eager to give this stranger, who had no respect for boundaries, your number but you hesitated with him?
What did Toji need to do to show you he was the only one with your best interests in mind?
Toji was the only one you should have confided in and the only one you should trust.
“Heh, well isn’t that nice, ma.”
Toji would have to figure out how to deal with the problem of your new friend at a later time. He didn’t want to spend the fleeting moments he had remaining with you brooding, as it was sure to soon show on his face and sour the mood.
Pivoting the subject back to just the two of you, Toji inquired about the baked goods he’s still owed. He could tell you’d forgotten already, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity he had to taste your cooking.
It would keep him sated long enough until he could actually taste you.
“Ya know, I usually don’t like sweets though.”
Toji told you when you asked his favorite dessert and you were genuinely determined you could bake him something he’d like.
“Hmm, you know I can make a mean fudge brownie! I make them with semi-sweet chocolate too. Plus, since I moved here I also cut some sugar and added matcha to the recipe, so they wouldn’t be too sweet. they are so gooey they melt in your mouth.”
“Heh, yeah—I bet you would too, ma.”
This time, you didn’t suppress your amused cackle as you shook your head and pushed your cart forward, still overall ignoring his persistent flirtations even if you were growing more comfortable with them.
Toji sensed the playful personality you’d kept tightly wrapped under all those layers from being with Sukuna, whose cruel sense of humor would only serve to crush yours.
Toji couldn’t wait to be the one to fully draw it back out of you.
“Ugh—boy, you play too much, Fushiguro!”
Toji chuckled, pushing his cart along after yours—he could tell your cheeks were still burning though.
“—Toji, ma.”
When you both finally reached the register, Toji checked out first, slyly sliding his card to cover your groceries as well.
You were completely unaware though, having left your cart with him in line while you rushed Yuji to the bathroom.
Yuji, being the growing boy that he was, had devoured his rice snacks too quickly and promptly spat them up all over himself.
Feeling smug in his chivalry, Toji anticipated seeing an even sweeter smile when you returned to find your groceries already paid for.
Yet, he’d seemingly made another miscalculation with you.
As when you returned to see your groceries bagged and paid for, you kept Yuji in your arms as you placed your bags of groceries in the stroller itself, storming out without a word leaving behind a dumbfounded Toji.
Toji was more than puzzled as you seemed furious at the fact Toji had done what he deemed to be ‘a-nice-thing-any-woman- would-want’.
The fuck happend?!
Shifting Megumi and own bag in his arms, Toji swiftly pursued you.
“Oy, mamas!”
You ignored him but Toji wouldn’t give up on you easily, or at all truthfully.
You didn’t realize that yet but Toji figured you must have gathered he was bullheaded enough to keep following you until you acknowledged him once you abruptly stopped and whipped around to face him.
“What, no ‘thank you’ f’er me, ma?”
Toji watched your nostrils flare as you angrily snapped at him.
“Thank you?!”
God, you were beautiful—even pissed off.
Toji knows he should be more focused on what you were saying in the moment, as you heatedly gave him a piece of your mind. However, Toji zoned out momentarily, unable to quiet his internal thoughts that screamed to him how pretty you were with your brow furrowed and cheeks puffed in indignation.
“... and furthermore you think you can just buy me, is that it?! That just because I have to rely on Sukuna and accept living in a building full of side hoes to give Yuji a comfortable life that I’ll just giggle and go along with anything like the rest of those bitches?!”
Shit.
You were actually pissed.
Ah fuck.
Toji had greatly underestimated your self-worth. Once again, you proved him wrong—and once more, that pleased him. It further highlighted how you were in fact a pearl among The Nursery pigs.
“Uh, Fuck mamas, er–I-I…no–”
Yet you proved to be such a wildcard that you had Toji of all people stuttering as he scrambled to find the right words to appease you.
“—then what?! Say something!”
Toji had to think fast.
He could see how it looked bad now, but in a rare form from his usual nature, Toji’s intentions had been honest. Toji just really wanted to show you he had the means and could take care of you—not to buy you.
Nonetheless, Toji really only had himself to blame as he’s sure you’ve heard of his far less than pious reputation.
Ostracized or not, the bougie women of The Nursery were terrible gossips and he was sure you’d overheard plenty less than savory information about him.
Of course, with all things considered, you’d assume the worst of him.
But Toji had never even bothered to learn any of those bitches names, much less buy them anything—they would give him gifts.
In this situation though, to quell your anger and regain your favor, Toji devised a quick lie, hoping it would smooth things over.
“Tch,” he began, scratching the back of his head and awkwardly looking away from you.
He had to be sure to sell it.
“No, it’s just ah, the guy—er, the teller. He assumed we were together.”
Toji shifted his stance, readjusting a drowsy Megumi in his arms.
“So, you told him we were…?”
You raised a brow, huffing but you didn’t seem as angry as before. Toji saw your eyes soften a bit, distracted by a cute lil yawn from Megumi who sleepily burrowed his face deeper into his shoulder.
Good kid, lookin out for y’er old man, aye Gumi?
Seeing how Megumi was disarming you, Toji knew this was his chance at redemption. Like a gentle giant, Toji’s large hand dwarfed his son’s small head with affection pats—an action he had picked up from observing you.
“Not exactly—but I supposed it looked that way, ma. What with the kids n’ya leaving all y’er shit with me n’all. Easier to just pay then explain.”
Toji continued before you could say anything, seeing as you didn’t look quite convinced.
“Trust me, from all of what you told me today, I know ya can take care of y’erself mamas… even if you are with that asshole.”
You regarded Toji with a scrutinizing gaze for all of a minute, yet that minute felt like hours to him.
He couldn’t remember feeling this uneasy ever—and being in the Yakuza put him in several situations in the past he thought he wouldn’t make it out of.
“Fine,” you resigned with a sigh, “It’s whatever then.”
Seeing that you had set aside the words you originally intended to scold him with, Toji felt that this was the best possible outcome he could have hoped for.
Well shit, bullet dodged.
“Uh yeah, well…I’ll see you around then Fushiguro—”
Toji couldn’t just let you leave like this, on uneasy terms with your frustration still evident.
“—Wait ma!”
And even more so as Toji stopped you once again.
“Look…I ain’t too big to admit I fucked up, mamas. Let me make it up to ya, yeah? Give ya a ride back so ya don’t hafta walk back in this heat?”
Toji knew you wanted to reject his offer out of pride, but he was serious now—there was no fuckin’ way he was gonna let you walk back.
Your load of groceries was way more than your usual trips, and on top of carrying Yuji, a sizable boy for his age, your purse and pushing the stroller would turn a 15 minute walk into a 25 minute one easily.
The scorching summer sun perched high at its peak at this time of day and the thick, near suffocating, humidity could easily turn to heat exhaustion—especially for a young toddler.
He knew you knew that too.
You’d have to accept, per Toji’s calculations.
And you did.
“Okay, why not...”
Yet the reluctance was clear in your voice.
The ride back began uneventfully, yet the calm atmosphere inside the car was tinged with awkwardness.
Megumi was snoozing in his car seat, while Yuji sat on your lap in the passenger seat.
Despite the lingering tension, Toji could see the relief on your face. The transition from the sweltering heat to the cool comfort of his air-conditioned Mercedes had clearly brought you much-needed respite.
The domesticality of it all was something Toji didn’t realize he would miss as much as he did, and it pissed him off that it was something Sukuna of all people had and took for granted.
However, when Toji glanced over at you, he tightened his grip on the wheel with both hands.
Your actions were purely innocent as you entertained Yuji, bouncing him on your knees. However, the movement caused your sundress to lift and bunch damn near to your hips.
Toji swore he could feel the steering wheel crack under his grip as he fought the urge to slide a hand onto your thigh, or at minimum over his soon-to-be-bricked-up cock.
Fuck. Get it together.
But there was nothing Toji could have done to stop his dissociative daydreams, which had grown increasingly vivid since laying eyes on you, from consuming him.
The sleek hardness of the leather steering wheel morphed to be malleable like the inner flesh of your thighs. Toji gripped the wheel tighter, which only made the visualization of how soft your skin would be in contrast to the texture of his calloused hand more apparent. The same hand which would so graciously sink into the warm plush of your skin with reassuring squeezes.
Finally, Toji would also get his answer as to whether or not you had been wearing panties. Toji’s wandering hand would only need to travel up the tiniest bit higher to press his knuckles right against your core.
And when it came down to it, whether you had them on or not mattered little to Toji—regardless of the result, he still intended to bully his thick middle knuckle directly into your clit.
Toji would take satisfaction in keeping his main attention on the road as he engaged you in casual conversation—all the while drawing slow absentminded circles around your bud. He would only pause if he felt the lil’ thing swell up enough—to the point where the soft clicking sounds from your slick could be heard if there wasn’t music playing.
He’d edge you with subtle, yet incessant, pleasure all the way home. Seeing just how much of his teasing your messy cunt could handle.
Toji's mind was stuck so badly in-between your thighs that he’d actually been caught off guard when you finally broke the silence, eagerly asking about his playlist as “How Do U Want It” pumped through the car speakers.
And that's how Toji managed to worm his way back into your good graces.
You seemed genuinely surprised to discover he was also a fan of ’90s hip-hop when he told you he was.
Of course, being a fan of ’90s hip-hop wasn’t a lie—but he had heard this particular song playing from your apartment before, so he made sure to add it to a playlist for whenever he’d be able to get you into his car.
Much to Toji’s enjoyment, before long you were laughing again as he attempted—very, very poorly—to rap along to some of the lyrics in English.
Pleased to have won you back over, Toji purposely missed at least two turns just to keep you in his car a bit longer.
If the day had ended there, he would have considered it a win.
But, of course, with his luck, things would prove to be anything but victorious.
Naturally, once you both returned, Toji carried your bags upstairs. However, that didn’t stop him from playfully teasing you.
Toji joked that—‘Miss Independent didn’t want him paying for her groceries, but she sure as hell didn’t mind him carrying them’—and was rewarded again with the soft snorts of your laughter.
It’s not like you didn’t have your hands full though, cradling both Megumi and Yuji, who were now fast asleep—one on each of your shoulders.
It was…cute.
Fuck, when even was the last time Toji even thought something was cute?
You were cute though, especially with the kids.
That he didn’t mind admitting.
Toji regretted that he didn't snap a picture of the moment. He knew it would likely be over soon.
Heh, maybe it didn’t have to be though.
With both boys asleep in your arms, Toji considered the likelihood of coaxing you to invite him in. You’d surely need help carrying both Yuji and your bags inside—but he didn’t want to push his luck, especially after he had already majorly fucked things up with you once today.
Although, Toji realized you wouldn’t need any convincing when you looked at him with a kind smile that reached all the way into your bright eyes. That was all the encouragement he needed to step across the threshold, technically uninvited, as he held the door open for you.
Toji would have entered too, had the energy not immediately shifted.
“—and just what the fuck is this?”
Motherfucker.
Down the hallway, Sukuna had since stepped out of the elevator with his right hand, Uraume, close behind. Sukuna appeared already agitated, barking rushed orders over the phone.
But Sukuna abruptly ended the call the moment he saw Toji about to enter the condo with you. And as if he owned the entire building himself, Sukuna exuded obnoxious dominance in every stride as he approached.
Toji may have outranked him but Sukuna rivaled Toji in both size and presence, sauntering over to loom behind you with an unmistakable air of possessiveness.
Tch, Sukuna shouldn’t even be here.
Toji had miscalculated—a rare miscalculation, but a big one nonetheless—what he gets, he supposed, for trusting a less than meticulous intel source.
According to his, now incorrect intel, Sukuna was supposed to be in Shinjuku at headquarters. The fact that he was here, interfering with his time he had so meticulously planned with you, infuriated Toji.
Shit—he hadn’t wanted Sukuna to see you two together just yet.
Despite Toji being unable to hide his disdain, he offered a respectful nod to Sukuna, as was customary between fellow upper-ranked yakuza.
Sukuna returned the gesture in-kind, along with a smug grin that had plastered itself across his face.
Tension saturated the air and Toji noticed that your once-gentle smiles had faded, replaced by wary glances exchanged between him and Sukuna.
Toji’s hand causally brushed yours as you carefully handed Megumi back to him before you faced Sukuna.
He noticed you running the spot on your hand where your skin had touched.
Did you also feel the electricity between the two of you burn your skin?
Toji had.
“If I knew you were coming, you could have picked me up from the store, Ryo! Then I wouldn’t have had to be a bother to Fushiguro...”
You could never be a bother to Toji.
Looking you over, Toji scrutinized your every movement. He knew you were merely trying to shift focus and keep the peace—but to do it for him?
After everything today, and how he unintentionally put his foot in his mouth with his actions?
Were—were you falling for him, already?
The slightly strained smile on your face still looked sweet enough, and Toji might have mistaken it for genuine—if not for the real warmth you’d shown him just moments before Sukuna’s arrival.
You really had saved your smiles just for him, isn’t that right mama?
Toji’s heart beats wildly at the thought, however his good temperaments were greatly diminished as he noted how the light in your eyes dimmed.
Seeing you shrink yourself to answer to Sukuna, no matter how insignificant—pissed him off.
Well, at least thanks to him, you wouldn’t have to suffer Sukuna much longer.
As Toji had expected, Sukuna didn’t try to suppress his asshole-like nature, even towards you. Your attempted olive branch had been rebuffed by the heavy hand on your shoulder. It was evident Sukuna was unconcerned with your excuses as he focused solely on Toji.
“Ah Fushiguro, I see you’ve met my son and his mother.”
Even though Sukuna had failed to give you a title, the intent behind his words and demeanor was unmistakable:
Sukuna owned you.
So that's how it is, eh?
Toji couldn’t say he was surprised.
Although his possessive nature wasn't driven by affection for you, Sukuna simply never liked to share his toys.
Sukuna must have thought you were just another plaything for Toji, well aware of what Toji got up to typically at The Nursery,
Eh, and were you any other woman, Sukuna would have been right.
But you were never toy to Toji, he wanted much more than just to fuck you, even before he realized it himself.
Toji would be lying if he said that he wasn’t looking forward to that too though.
“Heh, we’ve already had our introductions before, isn’t that right…?”
Toji was pleased by the flushed, wide-eyed expression on your face when he dared to address you by your first name—just as he was pleased that Sukuna’s smirk faltered into a scowl at Toji’s bold familiarity with you.
Toji mainly did it to piss Sukuna off. However seeing you flustered, knowing he could have an effect on you even in front of Sukuna, had been a much sweeter treat.
“Oh? Then she must know not to pay heed to old roosters who are now forced to spend more time in the hen house than running the farm these days. Although, a rooster who cannot crow effectively is of little use anywhere else, I suppose.”
Toji’s expression held firm onto the casual smugness he wore, but inside he was boiling.
Toji knew exactly what Sukuna was referring to.
Since his late wife passed, Toji had been only sent for specialized jobs that required his immense powerhouse abilities. Although he could easily air out a room of 20 men, Toji was considered to be more of a loose cannon than ever before.
Simply not caring—Toji took his anger out on more than just his targeted kills with no second thoughts given to the collateral damage of the environment he was in nor the civilian casualties around. Thus Toji made the damage control messier and harder on the organization in cases where more precision was needed.
Some would have called that a liability and had him dealt with, yet the bigger liability still would be trying to ‘deal with’ Toji in the first place.
Many had tried over the years for one reason or another—and it had been a guaranteed death sentence every time too.
Regardless, Toji had remained dog loyal to the organization though, with little care for power or status, even though it came to him anyway.
As long as he was paid, Toji had been content—and in turn, so had the organization.
This resulted in Toji mostly being able to do as he pleased, even when he went a little rogue at times.
“Rooster, eh—”
Toji knew Sukuna’s condescending smug attitude stemmed from the special privileges he’d been given to sit in on the executive meetings to solve the current unrest of having to do with whatever old fuck of an executive had gotten himself offed.
Regardless, it could still be seen as a loss of status not being in those meetings.
More importantly—Toji’s rogue behaviors could easily be manipulated into a target on his back should Sukuna assert he’d been a part of the internal treason.
Toji knew he had to tread cautiously with Sukuna, but Toji still did not feel threatened in the least.
“—I’d like to think of myself here as more of a fox though, it suits me better don’t ya think?”
Toji’s gaze had briefly met your own, and you quickly turned away, his grin growing even wider.
But then again, if Sukuna wanted to think Toji was down and out—Toji would let him.
It would work to Toji’s advantage in the long run with securing you as his anyway.
Toji wasn’t worried as he had nothing to do with that old geezer getting wacked and he was glad they’d left him out of it.
Besides, Sukuna being brought into the inner circle could have just as easily been a way to keep a closer watch on him. After all, Sukuna wasn’t an executive—and while Toji was, his role was to eliminate threats, not uncover them. It made more sense for Toji to stay away than for Sukuna to be involved at all.
All which was a net win for Toji, as he found himself with more opportunities to spend time with you, while the organization conveniently kept Sukuna occupied.
With a swift, smooth motion, Toji bent down to retrieve the stray apple that had rolled from your grocery bag. He polished it against his suit jacket before handing it back to you with a sly smile.
“Ya know, I am just next door lil’ hen. This ol’fox is still capable of being a good neighbor. I’ll always have plenty of sugar for you too, should you ever find yourself in need…”
Toji turns to Sukuna.
“...Especially since Sukuna has his hands full on the upper levels of the farm these days, eh? S’a wonder at all how ya manage to visit the hens on this floor too.”
Toji watched with amusement as your eyes widened at the blatant innuendos given right in front of Sukuna, who merely was left growling as his cell audibly and persistently vibrated.
Sukuna deemed the call more important than the coded banter with Toji, as he all but dragged you and Yuji into the condo—leaving the groceries for Uraume to bring in.
Although he had won the battle of the day, Toji regretted his actions later that evening when he inevitably lost the war.
Sukuna made sure to let it be known Toji lost too, as Sukuna had fucked you against the adjoining wall of the master bedroom so hard the entire wall shook.
Your pained yet pleasure-filled moans seeped through the thick insulation of the walls.
Using you like you were just one of his toys, Sukuna was quite literally pounding the point home that you belonged to him with every forceful quake.
Point taken, but what angered Toji more was Sukuna was being too rough with you.
Toji could have sworn he heard you plead for Sukuna to slow down and the irony of his concern was not lost on Toji.
Toji was never known for being a particularly gentle lover himself, but your body had been through enough—you’re a mother now.
You deserved better than the careless treatment of some cheap plastic fuck doll.
Nevertheless, despite the roughness, it was clear from the diluted moans through the insulation—you had liked it.
Sukuna was still making you cum.
And oh god, did Toji ever want to prove to your precious pussy that his thick inches would fuck her even harder if that’s what she asked of him.
Toji had to repress a frustrated groan when he realized he was painfully hard.
Your damped cries had Toji palming himself for relief before he even knew what he was doing.
Yet for all the perverse arousal he felt, Toji did feel some semblance of guilt.
His taunting of Sukuna ensured that this punishment was a lesson for the both of you.
But—Fuck.
Toji couldn’t deny his sadistic side.
He was a killer after all.
Even the distressed tremor of your euphoric moans sounded absolutely heavenly to him, and it wasn’t long before Toji fumbled with his own belt to drag out his heavily leaking cock.
Thick humid breaths left Toji as he hissed from having thumbed off the viscous pre-gathering on his redden tip.
Toji slowly spread it down his pulsing length, shuddering.
His frustrations at not being the one touching you—not being the one making you shiver and moan, are only rivaled by his frustration of this being the first time he’s had any real fire in his loins since he’s met you.
The fierce desire to cum was overtaking his more rational brain or self-control as he’d hadn’t been this hard in weeks, even when he’d rub one out from watching old security footage of you.
Wanting any semblance of contact, Toji placed his free hand on the wall—on the exact spot he imagined Sukuna had your cheek pressed against.
With closed eyes, Toji pictured himself cupping your face, thumb smoothing away any stray hairs or tears while he is the one thrusting into you, filling you.
His large hand encompassed his length while he thrusted into his rough palm, faster now that the speed of the thumping had increased—signaling Sukuna was close to finishing you.
Swallowing a frustrated roar, your muted cries for Sukuna through the wall brought Toji out of his fantasies and back to the harsh reality that Sukuna was the one balls deep in your tight milf pussy—while he was only in his own hand.
Nevertheless, Toji was determined to cum and even more so, determined to soon be the one making you scream in pleasure.
If you were this loud now—you’d be much louder on his cock.
Toji leaned in even closer, resting his head on his forearm against the wall, the wall that still shuddered with the force of Sukuna ruthlessly rearranging your guts.
Forcing himself to dissociate once more, so he could finish—Toji squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he bit his lip to the point of drawing blood. In the daydream, in Toji’s mind, it wasn’t the coarse skin of his palm that stroked his cock but the silky, wet heat of your cozy lil’ cunt.
Toji convinced himself that the sloshing noises that rang throughout his bedroom were from him stretching your pussy to his shape as his fat tip slammed against your cervix— and not from the embarrassing amount of pearlescent fluid spilling over his hand.
He hadn’t even cum yet—a testament to how backed up he truly was.
Toji should have been ashamed at the way his girth had pulsed in his palm, but he was so close, and so determined to finish with you, there was no room for ego.
Picking up speed to nearly the point of chafing, Toji jerked his cock feverishly. Toji came when he heard the loudest moan yet vibrate through the wall, and the banging had ceased with a final jarring shake.
Rolling back his eyes, Toji released his load all over the wall of his master bedroom, finally sated. Toji had allowed himself to release a strangled groan of relief, once he believed you both were no longer near the wall.
Panting and half-delirious with euphoric release, Toji’s eyes followed the trail of his thick cum splatter slowly trickling down the wall as his once engorged cock deflated in his hand.
With a curled lip and narrowed-in eyes, the white fluid turns red in his mind’s eye.
A dark chuckle escaped his lips and Toji fantasized what it would be like to put a slug right between Sukuna’s eyes. Toji’s large load pooled onto the floor in a similar fashion to how Sukuna’s brains would leak, spilling out as it also formed a similarly morbid pool of fluids.
Yet even despite his more ruthless inclinations, upon inhaling a deep breath, Toji felt an unfamiliar zen wash over him.
Killing was just business to Toji, and he couldn’t recall the last time the thought of offing someone had brought him this much pleasure or any semblance of peace.
Yet the fact revealed itself to him then, in that moment—the truth that he’d kill everyone in this goddamn organization for you if that's what it took.
Toji knew Sukuna wasn’t one of those cowardly fucks who would just roll over while someone moved in on his woman either, so Toji would likely be forced to kill him should Sukuna ever find out his true plans for you.
Toji sighs reluctantly—it was just a mere fantasy.
Not that he gave two fucks what would happen to Sukuna, but killing him would only fan the flames and might even cause an all-out internal war within the organization.
A war that as the top assassin, he’d be expected to quell with force—for god knows how long.
Ultimately, that would mean a loss for Toji too.
The more involved with the organization he was, the less time he’d get with you.
Brute force was never the ideal way to deal with someone like Sukuna, and it would be better for everyone if you seemingly left him of your own accord.
But what other choice did he have?
He’d do what it took to get you at the end of the day.
And while these complications may have deterred a younger Toji, you, as well as the challenge itself, breathed new life into his aging bones.
That life extended into all areas of his current one. Even the usually reserved Megumi had become less quiet and more responsive to Toji with his changed demeanor and increased presence around The Nursery.
You didn’t even know how much you were fixing his life even if you were only on the outskirts of it now.
You had made him better—so in turn, he would give you better.
Toji had no real interests, hobbies, nor friends.
Your moving-in had been the most exciting thing that had happened to him since she had been alive and Toji had lived the last year of his life on autopilot—but no more.
Now that he had something, well, someone that made him feel energized once again.
⟡
The familiar trill of a cell phone—one of the many burners he used for his yakuza dealings—pulls Toji out of his thoughts once again.
His lip curls in annoyance at the person on the line.
This is why Toji likes working alone.
Others were not only liabilities, but they were rarely ever self-sufficient.
Always wanting to ‘check-in’ and ‘confirm the plan’, rather than just taking the damn action themselves like they were supposed to.
But alas, the task of getting rid of Sukuna was something Toji knew he couldn’t do alone, he needed the intel source, even if they were unreliable at best.
Toji answers the call, but keeps it brief with his clipped replies.
By the time it ended, he was already scoffing, indifferent to the voice still speaking on the other end as he cut the call short and hung up as soon as he got the info he needed.
Shoving the phone into his back pocket, Toji sparks another cigarette.
His 'partner' had so kindly reminded him of the loose ends he still needed to tie up.
But that could wait.
For now, Toji remained where he was, stationed on his balcony—ready to stay out here all night for the small chance you may need him.
©𝐛𝐥𝐤𝐤𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐟𝐱, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞.
⟢ end credits: please comment, like and reblog and lmk what you think! I'd really appreciate the feedback as this fic has been my baby working on it.
i will likely end up completing another work while i work on episode 3 as my adhd ass usually needs to break it up in order not to get writers block and unlike e2 i had only done the outline so far, so if i post something else in the meantime just know i'm still working on episode 3!
#✎ᝰ𝓀𝒾𝓏𝓏𝒶𝓉¢σσкѕ#✎ᝰ𝓀𝒾𝓏𝓏𝒶𝓉¢σσкє∂тнαт#toji fushiguro#toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#jjk x reader#toji x reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#sukuna ryomen smut#jjk sukuna#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#jjk fic#jjk toji#ryomen sukuna smut#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fushiguro x you#jjk x black reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x black reader#toji x black reader#toji x fem reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x black!reader
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
The 2nd anniversary of my friend and I's Hilda spinoff comic "Abby" is this month! The journey with Abby isn't over yet, but the finale is on the horizon.
So as a little celebration for the 2nd anniversary I'm premiering concepts for an all-new Hilda comic series set in the same timeline/time period as Abby.
This series is titled "Beyond the City Wall"!
Returning to late 17th century Trolberg, this story follows the fiesty young girl Alouise with her elf companion and best friend Ida. They break free from Trolberg's orphanage and escape to the treacherous unknown beyond the wall. But such is the life of an adventurer ❤️
#hilda the series#hilda netflix#hildafolk#hilda fanart#hilda abby#hilda oc#hilda elves#hilda fanfiction#abby fancomic#hilda beyond the city wall#beyond the city wall#fan comic
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bound by Diamonds - Sylus x reader
Genre/warnings: pure fluff, established relationship between the both of you, teasing, sweet kiss, darry ring (a literal soulmate ring), no warnings …unless you want to say no to his proposal..
Synopsis: Sylus carefully plans the perfect moment to present you with a lifelong promise.
Note: the most expensive darry ring is well over 150 grand in U.S currency …that is the equivalent of $5 dollars in Sylus money
w.c: 2,119
VIP: @zanyssins (I thought u might like this ...)
The night felt like something out of a dream, the kind you didn’t want to wake up from. The streets were alive with the hum of the city, the faint glow of the streetlights illuminating the sidewalk as Sylus guided you toward the restaurant. His hand was warm, steady, wrapped around yours with a casual but firm grip that spoke of his protectiveness—a gesture you had come to know well over the years.
Sylus, as always, had made sure every detail was perfect. The air held a cool crispness, carrying with it the subtle scent of rain that had fallen earlier in the evening. His steps were confident, exuding the quiet authority that made heads turn as you walked into the grand entrance of the restaurant. You caught a glimpse of the way people shifted in their seats, straightening as he passed, their gazes following him with a mixture of respect and curiosity. There was no denying Sylus held power, not just in your life, but in the world beyond it. He had a presence that commanded attention, but with you, it was softer, more intimate.
The host greeted you with an almost reverential nod, leading the two of you through the dimly lit space. The restaurant itself was an oasis of luxury—high ceilings adorned with chandeliers that sparkled like clusters of stars, and soft music playing in the background, barely audible but creating a calm ambiance. Sylus had arranged for a private room, of course. He always did when it came to moments like these. Privacy was something he valued when it came to you.
As the waiter opened the door to your secluded table, your breath caught in your throat. The room was stunning—glass walls on three sides that offered a panoramic view of the city below. The lights from the skyscrapers stretched out endlessly, flickering like tiny diamonds in the distance. You could see the entire skyline, the towering structures glittering against the inky black sky. It was the kind of view that made you feel like you were floating above the world, a private escape far away from the chaos below.
Sylus gave your hand a gentle squeeze, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he led you to the table. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmured, his voice low and velvety, that signature teasing note dancing in his words.
You turned to him, catching the way the city’s lights reflected in his eyes—those mesmerizing crimson eyes that never failed to draw you in. They burned with intensity, as if every emotion he felt for you was captured in their depths. You smiled softly, feeling your heart flutter as you nodded. “It’s far greater than beauty… it’s stunning.”
Sylus’s gaze never left you, a smile playing on his lips as he leaned closer, his voice soft and intimate. “And yet, as stunning as this view is, it pales in comparison to the radiance you bring into my life. To me, you are the true masterpiece—more breathtaking than any cityscape, more precious than anything im bound to give you”
He countered smoothly, pulling out your chair with the kind of grace and charm that was so uniquely Sylus. “Tonight, let me show you just how much you mean to me,” he said, his eyes holding yours with a deep, earnest gaze. “Because you deserve to know that, no matter where we are or what we’re doing, you are the center of my universe.”
Heat flushed your cheeks, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “Please, if you keep talking like that you might as well make me believe in total perfection ” you teased, lowering yourself into the plush seat. The cushions were soft, molding to your form, and the table was adorned with a single candle flickering in the center, casting a warm, romantic glow over everything.
Sylus took his seat across from you, his long fingers playing with the edge of the menu, though his attention never wavered from you. “It’s not about being perfect, sweetheart,” he said, leaning forward slightly, the flame of the candle reflecting in his eyes. “It’s about being honest”
There was something in his tone tonight—something deeper, more deliberate. You could feel it, the way his gaze lingered on your face, the way his fingers tapped idly against the table as if holding back some secret. But for now, you let it slide, content to fall into the easy rhythm of your usual banter.
For a while, the two of you talked, slipping effortlessly into conversation like you always did. You told him about your day, about the little frustrations and victories at work, the mundane details of life that seemed so much more interesting when shared with him. Sylus listened with the same rapt attention he always gave you, his eyes softening as he watched you speak, a small smile playing on his lips.
“ — I would love for the both of us to have some peace together …alone” you smiled, leaning back in your chair, “I know everything has become so demanding these days – so, having something cozy as a cabin would be sweet”
Sylus tilted his head slightly, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his wine glass. “Is that your subtle way of telling me you want a getaway?” His smirk widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Because you know I’m always game for spoiling you.”
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips. “You spoil me enough as it is. Sometimes I think you’re trying to make me a little too used to luxury.”
He chuckled, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. “Only the best for my love. Besides, why wouldn't you think you deserve it. You deserve everything.”
His words were so sincere, so full of warmth that it made your heart swell in your chest. You looked down at your glass for a moment, trying to hide the way your pulse quickened under his intense gaze. “You’re too good to me, Sylus.”
His eyes darkened slightly, a more serious expression crossing his face. “I don’t think you realize how much I mean that,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
Before you could respond, the waiter arrived with the bottle of wine Sylus had chosen—a rare vintage, no doubt, something he’d picked specifically for the occasion. He poured two glasses with expert precision, and Sylus raised his in a silent toast.
“To you,” he said, his voice soft, reverent. “To us.”
You clink your glass gently against his, taking a sip of the rich, velvety wine. It was perfect, of course, just like everything Sylus planned. But as the conversation continued, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was on his mind, something unspoken.
It was in the way he watched you—his eyes never leaving your face, even as you spoke about the most mundane details of your day. He was always attentive, but tonight, it was different. There was a weight in his gaze, a quiet intensity that seemed to hum between you like a current of electricity.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Sylus leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the table in that familiar, thoughtful way. He reached into his pocket, his movements slow and deliberate, and your breath caught in your throat when you saw the small, black velvet box in his hand.
Your heart pounded as he set it on the table between you, the flickering candlelight casting soft shadows over the velvet. “Sylus…”
“Let me finish,” he interrupted gently, his voice barely above a whisper. His crimson eyes were locked on yours, filled with a tenderness that took your breath away. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment, the perfect time, the perfect setting, but I realized…that each moment I have tried — my mind couldnt conjure the right words out of my mouth …the right sentence ..or the right feeling ..everything felt out of place ..but tonight is different–this ring is different”
He slid the box across the table, his fingers brushing yours as he did, sending a spark of warmth through you. “This is a promise, sweetheart. A promise that no matter what happens, no matter where life takes us, I’m yours. Always.”
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you opened the box, revealing a stunning diamond ring nestled inside. It wasn’t just any ring—it was a Darry Ring, a once-in-a-lifetime promise. You’d heard of them before. The kind of ring that symbolized true love, loyalty, and commitment. Sylus had chosen this for you.
“I… Sylus..” you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked up at him, the tears threatening to spill over.
Sylus stood then, moving around the table to kneel beside you, his hands gently cupping your face as he smiled softly. “You don’t have to say anything, love. The only thing I would ask is for you to please stay with me”
Your breath hitched as you nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks as you threw your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Yes, I’ll stay with you. Forever.”
He pulled you closer, his lips capturing yours in a tender, lingering kiss. It was soft and gentle at first, but as the moment deepened, it became more passionate, filled with all the love and promise he had for you. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect bubble of intimacy.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were sparkling with a mixture of love and mischief. “A promise ..more of a bound between our souls, don't you think?”
You smiled through your tears, the weight of the ring on your finger a beautiful reminder of his commitment. “gods, you say the most ..its perfection is what it is”your voice still tinged with emotion.
Sylus stood, helping you to your feet, and pulled you into a close embrace, his strong arms wrapping around you as he pressed another tender kiss to your lips. This kiss was soft and full of promise, a sweet punctuation to the heartfelt words and gestures that had defined your evening.
He guided you towards the glass walls of the private room, where the breathtaking view of the city seemed to sparkle even more brightly now. The air outside was crisp, carrying the faintest scent of blooming flowers from the terrace. Sylus led you to the private terrace he had arranged—a cozy space adorned with plush cushions and blankets, perfect for a serene escape under the stars.
The terrace was illuminated by a soft, ambient light from string fairy lights that twinkled overhead. The city lights below glittered like a field of diamonds, their reflections mingling with the soft glow of the lights above. Sylus settled you into the cushions, his hand gently brushing against your cheek as he sat beside you, pulling you close.
“This is where we’ll end our evening,” he said, his voice tender and filled with affection. “Just the two of us, surrounded by all the stars of the night.”
You nestled against him, feeling the warmth and comfort of his presence as you both sank into the soft cushions. Sylus’s arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you into a snug embrace. The peaceful quiet of the night was punctuated only by the occasional distant murmur of the city below and the soft rustling of the wind.
As you looked out over the city, Sylus’s gaze never wavered from you. His eyes were filled with a love so deep it seemed to shimmer in the gentle light. “In a world full of fleeting moments” he murmured, his lips close to your ear, “this is one I want to hold onto forever with you”
You turned your head to look up at him, your heart swelling with a profound sense of happiness. “it almost feels surreal…”
Sylus’s eyes softened even further, his expression a blend of affection and admiration as he pressed a final, soft kiss to your lips. “It's a reality I wish to keep you in”
The night stretched out before you, filled with the promise of many more moments like this. As you lay together on the terrace, wrapped in each other’s arms, the city lights below and the stars above seemed to echo the love and commitment you had just sealed with a kiss. In that perfect moment, you knew that no matter what the future held, you had found something truly special—a promise of forever, made in the glow of love and a diamond ring.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧
Note Part two: I wrote this while listening to Mario Kart Rainbow Road Music! Also a darry ring is a fancy French ring that once you get it — you must sign both of ur names that this relationship is forever and ever and you can't get a second ring for another relationship!
#sylus x reader#suiwrites🍒#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace x reader#lads x reader#l&ds x reader#lads sylus x reader#l&ds sylus x reader#love and deepspace x you#lads x you#lads x y/n#l&ds x you#l&ds sylus#sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#lnds x reader#lnds x you#lnds#consui says sum#consui sees#𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓾𝓲'𝓼 𝓓𝓮𝓵𝓾𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Tis is a vetted and legit fundraiser 🚨🚨🚨
My old account has been suspended, and this is my new account.
I am Tamer Al-Deeb, a Palestinian dentist from Gaza.
We are a family of four.
We have endured so much and have seen death in-front of our eyes countless times. We have lost many dear lives, and we have suffered from displacement and homelessness for almost a year now.
We were forced to flee six times, lost our five-floor home, and I lost my clinic, my only source of income. We have spent all our savings in this bloody war, and we have no choice left but to seek life beyond the walls of this city.
Please, help us spread our campaign as widely as possible to save what's left of us.
Our campaign is vetted by :
- @ibtisams 🫶🇵🇸 :Click here
- @90-ghost 🫶🇵🇸 : Click here
- @el-shab-hussein 🫶🇵🇸 : Click here
- @fairuzfan 🫶🇵🇸 : Click here
- @palestinegenocide 🫶🇵🇸: Click here
- @el-shab-hussein 🫶🇵🇸 & @nabulsi 🫶🇵🇸 on Vetted Gaza Fundraiser List
Number [191 ] : Click here
My old post link:
@thedigitalbard @retvolution @pierppasolini @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @xinakwans @mushroomjar @weirdmarioenemies @thatdiabolicalfeminist @interfacefox @finnslay @muchmossymess @fairuzstuff @appsa @feluka-blog-blog @sawasawako
@pcktknife @journalsforpalestine @wellwaterhysteria @akajustmerry @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @vivisection-gf @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @ibtisams @kordeliiius @communistkenobi
@brutaliakhoa @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @the-bastard-king @queerstudiesnatural @skatehani @awetistic-things @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @90-ghost @northgazaupdates2 @postanagramgenerator @malcriaada @littlegermanboy @sar-soor
#gofundme#palestine#free gaza#gaza strip#gaza genocide#gaza#gazaunderattack#save gaza#news on gaza#war on gaza#stand with gaza#gazaunderfire
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
tourney favor ; aemond targaryen (m).
pairing ; aemond targaryen x wife!reader
synopsis ; it was rare for knights to ask married ladies for their favors, as it was often a way to win a lady's hand in the midst of courtship. but it wasn’t improper by any means. strange, perhaps, but not improper. you glanced back at aemond. he was studying you, single eye narrowed, jaw clenched. was he jealous?
wc ; 2.1k
themes ; smut, mild fluff, established relationship (married)
warnings / includes ; jealous aemond, unprotected sex, breeding kink and brief mentions of pregnancy/children, wall sex, foul language, mentions of violence/murder
a/n ; if this fic sounds familiar, i took some lines from my far-lengthier aemond fic, balance the scales :)
main masterlist.
A grand tourney was held in honor of Jahaerys and Jahaera’s eighth nameday.
You sat beside Helaena in the high platforms on the elongated arena, hands twisting in your lap. Tourneys usually bored you to no end—watching men hurt themselves over little else than theatrical show and bragging rights was not something you were very keen on. It felt like a waste of time to you, especially because you were already spoken for—you’d much rather be reading, or honing your needlework, or playing with the twins. To your other side was your husband, Aemond, looking equally disinterested in the event. You noticed his long fingers tapping impatiently against his knee, as if he were itching to leave. His older brother Aegon was nowhere to be seen, most likely somewhere in the bowels of the Street of Silk.
You couldn’t help but feel envious. How come the father of the children the realm was celebrating was off gallivanting through the city, probably sunken into his cups and his whores? He was free to fuck whoever and whenever he wanted. Whilst you had to sit for hours on end beside your beloved husband, with whom you wanted to do nothing more than clamber into his lap and kiss him until the two of you grew dizzy.
Perhaps a large part of your agitation was due to the fact that Aemond had sunken to his knees in your chambers only an hour before, his tongue spelling worship over your drenched core. And you’d been so close, ever so close to falling off the edge—
Until there came a knock on the door, and Criston Cole’s muffled voice echoed through the shut door. He had to urgently speak to Aemond before the tourney, apparently.
Something akin to a growl caught in his throat as your husband reluctantly drew away from you. You moaned lowly at the loss, sitting up at the edge of the four-poster bed as you watched him wipe your arousal from his chin.
“We’ll resume this tonight,” he had whispered into your flushed ears, before whisking off to speak to Ser Criston.
Seven fucking hells.
It took several moments for you to compose yourself, before you called in one of your handmaidens to help you dress for the tourney. Redo your hairstyle, too, because Aemond had certainly mussed it beyond salvation.
And now, as you fussed with your fingers in the stands, boredly clapping whenever the crowd was, it only came as an utter surprise when you heard your name called out. You sat up straighter, eyes falling from your hands to the riding grounds down below. It didn’t slip past your notice seeing Aemond tense, his fingers curling into a pale fist over his thigh.
A handsome knight donned in black-and-yellow armor stared up at you. You faintly recalled the patterned sigil emblazoned into the shield he was holding—he was of House Darklyn. He had taken off his helmet momentarily, lodged between his waist and his free arm. Gorgeous dark locks spilled over the nape of his neck, only slightly curled.
The olive green of his eyes gleamed boldly, full lips upturned into a charming smile. “Might I be honored with your favor, my Lady? I can certainly use the luck.”
Your gaze flickered over to his formidable opponent, a strong and muscular man, shrouded in white. His shield bore a red lion. House Reyne.
It was rare for knights to ask married ladies for their favors, as it was often a way to win a lady's hand in the midst of courtship. But it wasn’t improper by any means. Strange, perhaps, but not improper. You glanced back at Aemond. He was studying you, single eye narrowed, jaw clenched.
Was he jealous?
You could feel the muted arousal roar back to life in your lower abdomen.
“Of course, Ser,” you called back with a knowing smile in your husband’s direction. You grabbed a ring of woven flowers and tossed it down over the jousting lance. “Be careful.”
Off the Darklyn knight went with your favor swaying by the lance’s handle, the metal grating of his helmet pulled down over his grinning features. You weren’t even sure what his name was.
The joust began just as you sat back down beside Aemond—but you found yourself barely paying attention to what was unfolding, and rather kept your eyes trained on your husband.
“Rather improper of him to ask for your favor,” he commented snidely, voice lowered so only you could hear. “You’re my wife.”
“Perhaps you should be down there, then,” you replied lightly, offering him a cruel smile. You knew well just how little Aemond cared for all the glamor the tourneys offered. “Show them who I belong to.”
Expression hardening to stone, he suddenly gripped your arm with iron-strength, hauling you up out of your seat, despite your half-hearted protests. You wondered if the Darklyn knight would search for you once the tourney was over. You found yourself unsurprised that you couldn’t care less about him.
Especially not with Aemond leading you down the halls of the Keep, twisting several sharp turns before shoving your chamber’s entrance open. Just as quickly as you were yanked inside, the wooden door slammed shut behind you, and you were promptly shoved up against it.
His lips were angry over yours, claiming you, biting you, devouring you completely. You fell slack in his arms, one of your hands resting over his chest, almost as if you were debating between pushing him away or pulling him closer. He swallowed the noises of contentment that slipped from your throat.
“You just couldn’t wait,” he snarled, shoving you against the door harder until he was pressed flush over your body. Jealous Aemond was certainly a sight to behold. “My greedy little wife.”
You preened at his words, arching your back, desperate to reconnect your lips to his. He didn’t put up a fight, allowing you to fight for dominance, claw at his neck and chest in desperation as you kissed him as if he were the very air you needed to breathe.
Wasting no time, he reached down to yank the bottom of your dress upwards—cursing under his breath at all the damned layers you were wearing—and hurriedly shoved away your shift so he could reach your pulsing cunt.
You were drenched. Warm and wet and fuck, he couldn’t wait a moment longer—
Sensing this, you made quick work of his trousers, yanking them downwards before moving up to pop off his tunic’s buttons. A startled, pleasured cry—verging on a hysterical sob—tore from your lungs and rattled across the chambers when he suddenly thrusted two long fingers into you, his thumb working quick circles over your sensitive clit. You’d already been denied an orgasm once, and you found a litany of breathless pleas erupting from your lips, as if it were just second nature.
“Please, Aemond, please—” You choked on whatever else you had to say, eyes rolling back as your orgasm slammed into you far too soon for your liking. Heavy and all-consuming.
But it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, more, you’d always want more of your husband.
“Aemond, please, I need you inside,” you croaked, letting out a sigh when he drew a few tender kisses to your forehead. A glimpse of the softer side of your husband, scarcely shown unless it was with you. You loved him like this, but you wanted—no, you needed—him to lose all abandon with you.
“If you won’t fuck me, I’ll ask the Darklyn knight,” you growled with a serrated tone.
Aemond drew away from you, violet eye ablaze. Was it fury or was it possessiveness written so plainly over his features? Perhaps both. “What did you say?” he whispered, a hand suddenly surging up to grip your jaw.
“I said,” you huffed, staring at him with a challenging quirk of your brows, “I’ll ask another man to fuck me. If my husband won’t do so, that is.”
Silence on Aemond was scarier than anything. You wished he would speak, or scream, or call you filthy names. But no, he… he was observing you. Calculating. Like a cat would a mouse.
Or a dragon would its kill.
With one fluid motion, he drew his length into his hand—long and hard and angrily weeping with beads of pearly precum. The other hand abruptly flipped you around with surprising strength, crowding you against the wall beside the door so your back faced him. You moaned out his name when he pushed your dress up over your hips and dragged his tip over your drenched core.
“Please,” you begged, bracing yourself against the wall and jutting your hips back. If you could hear yourself over the buzzing in your ears, you’d be absolutely mortified at how delirious you sounded.
In one quick motion, he sheathed himself into you. Your warm, pulsating cunt was gripping him like a vice, eliciting a shuddering groan from his lungs. You mirrored his reaction, squeezing your eyes shut and holding onto him for dear life as he began to pound into you with no restraint. The lewd noises ricocheting in the room made your cheeks heat up until your entire face felt like it had been set aflame. With each snap of his hips into yours, you found yourself crying his name like a mantra, his hands bruising over your waist, pulling you back into him.
You were blubbering incoherently, begging for more. You just about lost it when one of his hands disappeared from your waist—only to roll over your aching clit with quick circles. A sob broke past your lips and you clenched hard around his length, feeling every hot inch of him buried deep inside you. His pace staggered with the sudden shift and he groaned out a curse, followed by your name.
“Who did you want to fuck?” he bit out, slightly breathless, words dripping with venom. “What’s his name?”
“I—” You hiccupped a cry with a particularly loud thrust. “Oh, fuck, Aemond!”
“Right,” he hissed, bending forward to bite down on your strained neck. “I’m the only one who can fuck you like this. Not pretty boys in silly costumes—mmph—not daft knights who lose tourneys. Me.”
The last word was ground out when your cunt spasmed around his girth once more, and you wailed out his name as your orgasm rolled over you. It was a wonder nobody had barged in to see if there was someone being murdered.
“Perhaps I’d have to get you all round and swollen with my child. Show them who you belong to. Who fucked you this good. Would you like that, sweet wife?”
“Yes, yes, Aemond, I need—I need you to come inside. Please, I need you to stuff me full.”
You reached behind you to blindly grapple for his arm and he briefly shifted the angle and began pounding into you even harder. His cock hit your sweet spot just right, and you saw stars swimming over your vision.
A near animalistic noise tore through Aemond’s chest when you tightened around him one last time, your warm cunt fluttering around his cock. His rhythm faltered. What drove him over the edge was when he glanced down and saw the thick ring of your creamy arousal at the base of his cock. Gods, you were… beyond perfect.
With a staggered rasp of your name, he thrust into you thrice more before he spilled his seed deep in you, thick spurts of white coating your slick walls.
Heavy pants filled the room. You barely registered his lips kissing along your bare shoulder, where your dress had slipped in the midst of your heated frenzy.
Slow, he eased himself out of you. “You did so well for me,” he murmured against your skin, smoothing his hands over your waist. “Are you alright?”
“Mmh,” you hummed, because no words would come to you at the moment.
He laughed, a wonderfully rich sound, before gently urging you towards the bed.
“Get some rest, wife,” he told you, laying you onto the plush mattress and dipping down to kiss your forehead. He regarded you with raw adoration folded over his expression. Though, it was quick to melt into a thunderous one with his next sentence. “I have a certain knight to exchange words with.”
If you hadn’t been so high off your orgasms and exhausted with the new-found urge to sleep the whole night away, you would’ve realized that Aemond was likely going to commit manslaughter over something as trivial as a tourney favor. But you hadn’t thought about it much, not in your sex-addled haze, and promptly fell asleep with only the dream of silver-haired babes with wonderful purple eyes to accompany you.
#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond fluff#aemond smut#aemond targaryen x you#hotd fanfiction#aemond targaryen fluff#house of the dragon fanfiction#hotd smut#hotd x reader
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
Throughout this war, those journalists have mostly ignored that Palestinian reporters are being killed, or even that they are reporters at all. With Western journalists largely prevented from entering from Gaza for these past 10 months, many of them have responded not by looking at the constant coverage by Palestinian journalists inside Gaza but by pretending that those reporters do not exist. Christine Amanpour, for example, lamented in April that “journalists are not on the ground in Gaza” who can show what’s happening there. (When she was corrected about this, she clarified that she meant “independent, Western journalists.”) A report from Rafah in December by CNN’s Clarissa Ward was sold to audiences as an “exclusive look at life in war-ravaged Gaza,” as if Palestinians had not been revealing what is going on in Rafah since October. What’s almost worse than this erasure, though, is that the few Western journalists who have been able to enter Gaza have almost exclusively done so by embedding with the Israeli military on heavily supervised excursions into the Strip. The IDF decides where the reporters go, what they are allowed to see, and whom they are allowed to question. Rather than challenge this obviously propagandistic situation, reporters from outlets like The New York Times and NBC News have instead dutifully played along. The benefit for Israel is clear. Witness a February dispatch in The Wall Street Journal, where the paper’s correspondent brought breathless reports from inside Hamas tunnels under the devastated city of Khan Younis that the Israeli army was more than happy to give access to. Israel has done nothing to earn this level of trust. Throughout this war, its government has lied consistently, endlessly, in absurd ways without stopping for breath before announcing the next lie. Its credibility is beyond question in that it has none.
#yemen#jerusalem#tel aviv#current events#palestine#free palestine#gaza#free gaza#news on gaza#palestine news#news update#war news#war on gaza#media bias#manufactured consent#palestinian journalists#gaza genocide#genocide
2K notes
·
View notes