#just has them hang out naked in fear while they stare

[tojipie]

I love your prison bf toji series so much!! Also, in the newest installment of the series Toji says that Shiu has had a crush on the reader for a while? I’d love to see how this crush developed, how Toji found out and how Shiu dealt with his feelings!!

ughhhhgghgg i love this prompt so much :(( bless your heart you’re a genius <3

prison bf toji series linked here <3

context ! -> fic takes place very early on in reader and toji’s relationship. this is pre-prison and at a point where he hasn’t introduced him to his men yet :D hopefully this makes sense !

content: fem reader, brief piv smut, mentions of incarceration, objectification of reader by stranger, fluff, they make up dw ! jealousy, angst, unrequited love

purple hickeys bloom across your chest as toji makes his way from shoulder to shoulder, pinching bouts of delicate skin between his teeth while length ruts into you.

the drag of his cock is delicious, hitting that special spot at just the right angle from the way he has you laid out on the couch, both legs thrown over his shoulder with your head propped up on a cushion.

toji was always like this after securing a deal at work, soft, sensual, taking his time with your body as an act of celebration. half-empty glasses of champagne still lie on the coffee table where you’d left them, leaving rings of cool sweat on the glass surface.

“gonna cum,” he groans, pulling away from your neck with a pop and blowing cool air against the saliva-soaked hickey. you squirm at the stimulation, throwing your head back as your high creeps up on you t— was that a key in the door?

toji pulls out of you with unmatched speed, reaching for a couch cushion to shield his manhood. he rucks a throw blanket over your body with a string of curses, using his massive build to hide the silhouette of your body from view. 

“what’d i tell you about waltzing into my fucking house?” your boyfriend yells, staring down the suit-clad stranger with a look that screams blood-lust.

the smile that breaks out on the man’s face is nothing short of filthy, eyeing you up and down like a piece of meat

“awww didya get us a hooker boss-man?” he sneers, cigarette hanging from his lips. “could’ve waited till i showed up to start but i’m down for whatever.” he laughs, gingerly placing a pristine briefcase on the coffee table before taking your discarded bottle of champagne as a parting gift.

“don’t have too much fun, alright?” he teases, stepping out the door as quickly as he’d come in.

the two of you are speechless for several minutes, looking back and forth between each other, the door he didn’t even bother to close, and the mystery briefcase you’re not sure you want to see opened. 

toji sits up with a string of curses, stalking over to kick the door shut with a sigh. 

“that’s.. shiu,” he mumbles, clearly embarrassed. 

you sit up from your spot on the couch, letting the blanket guarding your modesty slip down to your waist. toji settles down on the opposite side of the couch, arms outstretched to let you climb onto his naked form. 

“handles money,” he clarifies, tracing abstract shapes onto your spine. “my cut from today is in the case.”

“do you trust him?” 

he nods, resting his head in the crook of your neck with a sigh.

you figure that’s all you need to know.

˚ ✧ ──────────────────────

the apology shiu gives you the next time you meet goes on for ten minutes. variations of “fuck i didn’t know” and “i’m so so sorry i really am” spill from his lips while he bows at your feet, forehead firmly pressed to the wood floor of your dining room.

toji sits at the head of the table, shoveling bites of dinner into his mouth in between heart laughs.

“mmf— tell her again i don’t think she heard ya.”

the truth is you’d kind of forgotten about your boyfriend's right hand after the incident was over. was the hooker comment uncalled for? sure, but judging by the saturated fear in the suit-clad man’s eyes you figure toji had done something to set him straight.

plus you’d both gone two more rounds after the initial embarrassment had died down, making up for the little roadblock on your path to an orgasm. 

“it’s okay, promise,” you say quietly, not entirely sure what to say at this point. the suit-clad man stands again, bowing to both of you with a sigh. 

“now give her our little present,” toji says, stalking over with his arms crossed. 

a sealed bottle of champagne— the same kind he’d so graciously swiped from your home— is placed in the palm of your hands before you’re able to question either of them. 

you shoot the other man a greatful smile, and shiu realizes he quite likes the feeling of your soft hand shaking his.

˚ ✧ ──────────────────────

toji’s annual new year party was a sight to behold. alcohol, dancers, and booming music was the typical atmosphere, though the event had taken a complete turn once you’d entered the picture. 

gone were the days of loose dollar bills and stray panties littering the floor, the smell of sex and smoke in the air.

in were the days of… a modest bar and fancy catering, much to his men’s dismay.

toji didn’t quite know how to throw a party that could be deemed “professional” but he figured not having strippers at the house might’ve been a step in the right direction. some of the guys even brought their wives this time, fun right?

and so, toji sits toward the back of the room, watching you socialize with a drink in hand, his best friend beside him. 

tension hangs in the air as both men watch you from afar. one with pride, the other with longing.

“do you want her?”

“… what?”

toji doesn’t elaborate on the cryptic question, peering at his friend over the rim of his glass.

shiu pauses, downing the rest of his drink as he thinks of what to say. a warm hand settles on the meat of his shoulder, letting him know it’s ok.

“yeah man, i do,” he admits, too ashamed to look up from the floor.

greed. the word that’d graced toji’s knuckles since the day he turned 19. black ink needled into a canvas of tan skin, bleeding into the rest of the tattoos like water flowing upstream. 

it fit him perfectly. it did then, and it does now. toji always gets what he wants, regardless of how other people feel. a man overcome by what he believes he deserves. 

the hug he’s pulled into isn't filled with malice. the threat of violence isn’t there, unlike the time toji had taken him by the collar and threatened to gut him like a fish over the comments shiu had made the first time he met you. 

this hug is.. soft. inviting. an embrace that tells him “it’s okay, i trust you.” the fact that toji hasn’t bashed his nose into his skull is a telltale sign that there’s no fault in feeling the way he does, so long as he doesn’t act on it.

shiu truly doesn’t know what to say other than yes, he does want you. he wants you to be the one he comes home to each night, he wants your soft skin on his, wants to spoil you and make you smile.

you were kind, attentive, shy at times. the complete opposite of toji and his brutish demeanor. a flower cradled in the hand of a dragon.

but you weren’t his, and you never would be. not when toji had been the one to sweep you off your feet, securing a place for himself in your heart that shiu could never fill. 

and that was ok. he was here for his job, not you. shiu was fine with you being oblivious to his feelings, in fact, it was better that way for the three of you.

that’s exactly why he breaks away from the hug as you pad over to their table, shooting you both an apologetic smile before heading over to the bar. as long as he’d still be able to catch a glimpse of you every now and then, he’d live. 

edit: forgot abt the taglist oopsies 🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies @wheredidmycrowngo @unknownspecies @ushygushybaby @ebiharachan @hoshigray @crazychaoticizzy @denypipa @watyousayin @tempest1art @sakuraryomen01 @kariito-art @vkeyy @mxtokko @inumakiiz @rosieee491 @loveme-b4by @suguxo @namjoonsbuspass @tojis-luver @complexivelovely @dancingwithdeities @sunflwrsugar @catvader101 @ktsgrl @princessos-blog @4ut0p5y @swiftsongs-mp3 @mycocoapuffs @adrenepinephrine @na0koz @suguscape @jaswonder3 @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @getousrep @jeannieboys @darkstarlight82 @freebananabeard @vivian-555 @kentokaze @subarusuguru @aroxwq @i-literally-cant-with-this @emikokomura @moonriseoverkyoto

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 58

part 1 | part 57 | ao3

@steddie-island said i wasn't allowed to cut this lol. cw: angst, canon typical horror, mentions of minor character death

“Lucas called me a ghost today.”

Steve almost laughs, bitter and sharp. Sure. Why not? What’s one more ghost in his passenger seat?

He doesn't really want to talk to her right now, if he's honest. It's been fifteen minutes and she still hasn't apologized for trying to rob him, or explained where they're going, or what spooked her, or why this car ride was so urgent that he had to risk his job for it — a job he actually needs, considering his, well, everything. She's hardly said anything beyond the occasional "turn here" or "next left" while sulking with her forehead pressed against the window.

But he can tell she has something she needs to get off her chest, so he swallows his annoyance and offers, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she says back. Doesn't elaborate.

He gives her another minute to gather her words, watches her open and close her mouth a few times in his periphery, but nothing comes out. She scoffs at herself and abruptly changes the subject. “Eddie was being extra… well, extra today.”

“Was he?” Steve asks, his bones itching under his skin. He doesn't want to talk about Eddie. Doesn't want to think his name.

“Yeah, he, uh- he was kinda manic? He was, like, running all over the cafeteria and starting shit with Jason Carver...” And he's only half-listening, anger simmering as she goes on and on, because she promised that Dustin didn't put her up to this. Said that this wasn't some bullshit excuse to get him to talk about Eddie or hang out with Eddie or think about Eddie or kiss and make up with fucking Eddie, and now she's just talking about him, and it-

And it hurts; god, it still just hurts—

"....Then he started rambling about how he can’t wait to get the hell out of here when he graduates.”

Searing-stabbing-burning-sharp. Steve clutches at the flare of pain in his chest, the crushed soda-can feeling where his heart's supposed to be. His head pounds. He follows her next direction onto a winding, tree-lined road, the canopy suffocating overhead, and his skin feels too dry — too tight, too small, shrink-wrapping him inside of it, because he knows where they are now. Knows the tilt of the rusted lamp shade, the shape of the weather brick paths. He's tasted the metal tang of this stop sign in his nightmares.

Fuck. Fuck.

"Cool," he grits out as he drives through the cemetery gates. Past stone and wrought iron, past the empty central fountain. He hasn't been here since July. “Good for him.”

“Steve-"

“Why are you telling me this?" he snaps. He throws the car in park under an old oak and turns to glare at her, barking a frustrated, "Huh?"

Immediately, he feels bad for raising his voice. Feels even worse for the way she flinches away. The naked fear on her face, her hand reaching for the door. He takes a long, deep breath and lets it out slowly through his nose. “Sorry. Sorry. Just-" There's a leak inside him somewhere; some infected, gaping hole, and his stupid heart keeps pumping all his blood into the wound. "Why are you-?”

“Look,” she says sharply, "I know it sucks. To talk about him." She's staring at the rows of headstones up ahead, her face gone steely with determination, her shoulders squared, her big eyes wide and a little wet when she turns to meet his gaze. “But whatever you were— whatever happened, it just… it really messed him up.”

Good. "You sound like Dustin."

"Maybe Dustin had a point."

"Since when?"

She throws her hands up, nostrils flaring. "I'm trying to tell you that I think he still cares!"

“Yeah? He’s got a seriously fucked up way of showing it if so!”

“Yeah, well some of us don’t know how to show it!”

And oh.

Oh.

Silence blankets them like dust. Eyes locked; harsh breaths. This has nothing to do with him and Eddie, does it?

Lucas called me a ghost.

Steve sighs and slumps forward, his forearms on the wheel, his chin resting on his wrist. The late afternoon sun is warm through the glass, and his head gives another nasty throb as he looks out over the hill, at the polished stones glinting in the golden hour rays.

His dad is buried here.

A lot of people are.

“Hey,” he murmurs, rolling his neck to look at her. The skin under her eyes is red. "Sorry for yelling."

She sniffs quietly. "Me, too."

He reaches over and gives her hand a quick squeeze, keeping his voice low and gentle. "You know you can just talk to me, right? Max, talk to me. Please.”

Her bottom lip quivers. “It’s nothing, okay?” She sinks down in her seat, crossing her arms to shield herself. “Shit’s just been… it’s just been weird all week. Like- like bad weird, and I don't know if I'm just going crazy, or— I mean, maybe Ms. Kelley's right, maybe's it's just— but it feels like…”

"Like what?"

She holds a hand out flat in front of her; flips her wrist over slowly so her palm faces the sky.

Steve's blood runs cold. He thinks of his own nightmares: the weird visions, the headaches, the persistent haunted feeling.

"I don't know anything for sure," she insists, rushing to reassure him before he can fully start to panic. "Seriously, don't freak out; I haven't, like, seen any gates or anything, it's just— bad dreams. Nose bleeds. I don't know." She hoists her backpack onto her shoulder. "I thought coming here might help."

He catches her by the arm, raking his eyes over her face, looking for any signs of danger. "Is there anything I can do?"

She shakes her head no and tugs free of his grip, and then she's slipping out of the car, letting the door fall shut behind her, and Steve watches her crest the hill while sirens wail inside his head.

—

part 59

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[beomiracles]

OMGOSHH hiii Serene my goddess

i would like to build a dreammmmm (hello you are so adorable)

so i have an idea

its a historical (or modern if youd prefer) fantasy au (w any member u deem suitable)

where reader is a fox spirit who fell in love w member who rescued her while she got injured and trapped in her animal form

member and reader spend some domestic time tgt and eventually reader recovers and reveals her true form and is worried member would be afraid of her

initially he is but things happen and he ends up falling for her too?? and they get tgt !!

(i like things steamy)

thank you for taking the time to read this :))

500 BASH SPECIAL

#serene adds ✎... omg ily like ;( when I first read this I IMMEDIATELY thought, yeonjun. (maybe it has to do with the reader being a fox idk. but it feels right to have this fic about him) I'm also super into this whole idea but I've never written for a supernatural reader before so idk how good it is on that front heh..! hope you'll still enjoy :3

wc -> 1.8k

pairings yeonjun x fox spirit!reader (afab) warnings very slight dom/sub dynamics, sub!yeonjun, soft!dom reader, handjob/blowjob, hints at further sexual themes.

It had been, three? Maybe four weeks? You could hardly keep track of time as the room you had been staying in lacked any sort of time teller, and it wasn’t exactly like your rescuer was about to sit down and inform a fox of the time. You couldn’t blame him, he had already done so much for you, from taking you in and providing both shelter and food — it was more than you could have ever asked for. 

You had grown accustomed to the company of the human man, strangely enough. Foxes were known to be distrustful of said species yet you found yourself feeling warm and fuzzy inside whenever he was around, which was almost all the time as he returned to check up on you multiple times throughout the day. 

But by now, your body had recovered enough for you to finally be able to comfortably shift back into a more presentable form. Your only worry was the human’s reaction, you scolded yourself for taking his feelings into such great consideration, it wasn’t what was supposed to happen. Yet you worried that he might be scared — dreaded that he might not like you at all in your human form. 

The cool air causes goosebumps to rise across your now naked skin, having adapted to the feel of fur after spending so long in your other form that the now mildly cold degree outside felt freezing. You stretch your fingers out in front of you, studying them as if it were your first time seeing them. A small sigh of relief escapes your lips, finally you felt more like yourself again. 

The sound of the door squeaking open causes your head to snap in its direction as the human stumbles inside. His hands are full of cut up fruits and a few pieces of raw meat, but as soon as his gaze falls on you the plate crashes against the floor and you flinch at the sound. 

Yeonjun’s mouth hangs open as he studies you with a slightly horrified expression. You could smell the fear dripping from him as his eyes darted across the room in search of your fox form, but all he found was you. Slowly rising from your crouched position, you offer the man a small smile. 

“Hi.” 

You internally cringe at how strained your voice sounded, but after not being used for almost a month it wasn’t so surprising. Yeonjun doesn’t reply as he stares at you dumbfoundedly. “...Who are you?” He finally splutters as he takes a defensive step back, your heart churns at the small action. 

“It’s me…Red”, you try as you use the nickname he had given you a few weeks prior. Yeonjun’s eyes might as well just pop out of his eye sockets as he stares at you in disbelief. “Red?” He repeats, though his stance remains wary. Eagerly you nod as you take a step forward.

“But…it doesn’t make sense I…” He stammers as his hands come up to block you from his view. “And you’re…you’re naked!” His statement causes you to stop as you frown whilst glancing down to your bare body. So? Why did that matter? It was natural when shifting forms — besides, did he really not have greater things to worry about than your naked frame? 

You surge forward once more only to be stopped by a pair of large hands against your shoulders as Yeonjun prevents you from coming any closer. “Why don’t you sit down over here”, he redirects you toward the bed in the center of the room as he hastily pulls the duvet cover over your exposed body. 

Huffing out a breath of air, you glance up at your savior as he fusses over you, much like he always did. And as your eyes roam his body; you wanted nothing more than to repay the kind favor. 

Hesitantly, Yeonjun takes a seat beside you on the very edge of the bed, much to your delight. He runs a hand through his dark hair as he studies you with a slight frown. “I don’t understand…you…you’re..” — “A human?” You interrupt as the corner of your lips curl into a small grin. “Yeah.” He breathes out a small sigh. 

In your human form, he seemed even more delectable and your gaze followed the way his teeth closed around his bottom lip as he bit it anxiously. “I’m a fox spirit.” You state as you watch his reaction. His frown deepens as he looks at you, noticing the swirling pools of orange in your eyes and your sharp canines as you grin. He supposed he should feel afraid, but he didn’t, for he could still recognize the wounded animal he had taken in all those nights ago. 

You tilt your head to the side as you listen to the now, steady, beating of his heart as the human came to terms with the creature before him. “But why didn’t you reveal yourself earlier..?” He wonders and you let out a small sigh. “Well it was impossible to, given the state my body was in”, you shrug before glancing toward him with a small smirk, “but thanks to your helpful hands and kind words I am now completely recovered.” 

Yeonjun’s eyes widen as color rushes to his face. “Kind words…you mean you..” — “Even in my fox form I understand the human language.” You say as you watch the increasingly flustered state of the human who averted his gaze, suddenly recalling the multiple comments about the fox he had made. 

“Do you really think I’m cute?” You ask as you lean forward on the bed. Yeonjun swallows as his eyes return to you, “I uh…” he begins but trails off as you close the small distance between you, trapping him against the bedpost. The duvet falls from your shoulders and his eyes dart between your exposed skin and your face. 

“I think you’re cute.” You purr as your nose graces along his cheek. The rapid beating of his heart felt like music to your ears. Under you, Yeonjun squirms as he tries to free himself from your grip, you let him go as you watch him with a slight pout. He scrambles across the bed to lean against the headboard, slightly panting as he looks at you. 

“Are you scared of me?” you ask with a small frown, a sense of hurt lingering in your words. He shakes his head, “n-no…I just..I don’t know if it’s such a good idea to…” He sharply inhales as you suddenly appear mere inches from his face, gently straddling his lap as your fingers brush along his flushed cheek. “But you’re not scared of me?” Your question comes off as more of a statement but Yeonjun gives you a small shake of his head. You smile, “good.” 

Your lips find his as your hands gently cup his cheeks. Half expecting him to pull away, you’re surprised when his arms wrap around your naked waist to pull you closer. “I’ll make you feel good, yeah?” you whisper against his lips as your hands grip onto the fabric off his shirt. Yeonjun gazes up at you with a clouded expression, uttering a small “uh-huh”.

Your sharp nails dig into the soft cotton as you rip it apart, exposing his lean torso for your hungry eyes to ravage. If he’s surprised by your quick actions, he doesn’t let onto it as his eyes rake over your naked body. The hands on your waist slowly move across your stomach before gently cupping your breasts, his thumbs grazing over your nipples. You let out a small moan as shivers course through your body. 

The roll of your hips against his makes his breath hitch and you lean down to press open mouthed kisses along his neck and collarbone. “You saved me”, you murmur against his skin, feeling the way blood rushed beneath the surface. Sharp teeth drag across the sensitive flesh of his neck as you inhale his sweet scent. 

“Not many people would take in a fox like myself.” The tantalizingly slow movements of your hips causes him to buck up against your wet cunt, drawing a small hiss from you as you grind down on him even harder. Your lips hover over his own once more as you gaze at him in a loving manner. Yeonjun looks at you with a hazy expression as his lips part so deliciously and invitingly, soft pants emitting from him. 

“I am forever grateful.” You whisper before leaning back to rip the seam of his pants apart. Your mouth almost waters at the sight of his throbbing cock, hard and ready for you. Yeonjun lets out a small gasp as you wrap your fingers around him, marveling at how heavy he felt in your hand. “So pretty and good for me”, you coo as you take your time to get a full feel of him, drawing a soft groan from the human. 

You experiment with the pace of your hand, the flick of your wrist, closely watching his reactions as Yeonjun fell apart under your touch. His fingers digging into the soft sheets of the bed, knuckles turning white at the sheer pressure. Unable to resist you lean down to get a small taste of him, relishing in the throaty moan you manage to coax from him. 

Tongue pressed flat against his cock, you slowly work your way down before licking a stripe all the way up to the red tip again. “Ah, fuck.” He groans as you suck all of him in your mouth, swirling your tongue against his slit. His hips snap up against you, his cock hitting the back of your throat and you almost gag. Your hands brush along his thighs as you moan softly around him, silently praising him before pulling off with a small pop. 

“What do you need from me, pretty?” You whisper as your hand returns to gently stroke him. Sweat sticks to his forehead as he lays panting, he swallows, “a-anything, fuck…just need you!” His words make you clench around nothing as your lips eagerly return to his cock, feeling it twitch against your lips. 

The soft whines falling from his plump lips were enough to have you take him as deep as you possibly could, pressing your tongue against him with so much pressure that it almost hurt. “Fuck, I’m c-close” he groans and one of your hands join your mouth on his cock as you encourage his orgasm. 

With one final twitch, he releases himself inside of your open mouth. The feeling of hot cum spurting on your tongue had you moaning against his slowly softening cock as you pulled away to wipe your lips. Above you, Yeonjun brings a hand to his forehead as his ragged breathing slowly returns to normal, but the beating of his heart remained rapid as you study his flushed expression. 

His eyes snap toward you as he feels you move on top of him. Teasingly pushing two fingers inside your dripping cunt for him to see. “Think you can do one more, pretty?”

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[phyx-m]

Beneath The Silk | True form Sukuna x Reader

🔗 Masterlist

Chapter 8: The Remedy For Bad Dreams

Content warning: dubious consent, smut, fingering, masturbation, angst at the end, Sukuna is a menace

🔗 Songs for this chapter:

Ruby - Tweaker It’s No Good - Depeche Mode

* * * * *

Chapter 7 | Chapter 9

* * * * *

The sound of your own screams jolts you upright, yanking you from the grip of your nightmare.

Pain floods your body, leaving you stiff and tense. Your muscles and jaw so tightly wound that you fear they might be locked in place. The tension only intensifies as you realize Sukuna is standing in your chambers.

“What are—” Your voice falters, and you clear your throat. “What are you doing here?”

Instead of answering, Sukuna lets the question hang in a drawn-out, heavy silence.

Nerves and instinct drive you to grip the cotton sheets, pulling them tightly around yourself. 

He stands across the darkened room, leaning casually against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. The faint light that filters through the narrow window casts shadows, accentuating the tendons and veins in his forearms and the stark lines of his face.

Those crimson-red eyes are fixed, scrutinizing you. Four flames that refuse to yield. And as always, they make you feel vulnerable.

Briefly, you wonder if perhaps he didn’t hear your question. But the subtle twitch of his jaw and the rhythmic tap of a forefinger against his bicep betray his awareness.

Shit.

You swallow hard.

Badum, badum, badum.

Inside your chest, your heart seems to beat with a rhythm of its own.

Sukuna stands before you, half-naked. His bone-white hakama hangs low, revealing the contours of his hip bones and tendons. Your gaze lingers a little too long on the defined lines where his skin meets the fabric, the contours disappearing beneath the garment.

In an instant, the words of your attendants come flooding back to you: Sukuna is rough, not gentle, and takes what he wants all for himself. Has every disregard for his lover’s pleasure. His dual cocks.

No. Don’t think about that…

You avert your gaze, staring down at your lap to hide the pink that is surely igniting across your cheeks.

In three long strides, his bare feet tap against the wooden floor as his imposing form moves with a disturbing grace to stand at the end of the futon.

The sudden motion forces you to crane your neck, straining to look up at him.

He is every bit a living, breathing weapon—cold, sharp, and seemingly untouchable. A terrifying presence. A presence looming over you in the middle of the night in your chambers.

You swallow again, struggling to clear the lump in your throat.

“Why are you here, my Lord?” you repeat softly, trying to infuse your voice with as much gentleness as you can muster.

At your delicate words, you finally see a reaction. Sukuna’s upper lip twitches, and a mischievous grin slowly spreads across his face.

“Since my wife’s screaming was such a delightful wake-up call,” he drawls, “I thought I’d come and check on her.”

If the devil could smile, it would mirror this very expression of Sukuna’s perfectly.

“I see,” you respond, shifting uncomfortably. “Forgive me for asking, but why did that involve you watching me while I slept?” You try to keep your tone even, masking the underlying accusation.

He cocks his head slightly, his expression unchanged.

“Don’t read too much into it. I was only here for a moment, but I’ll admit it was amusing to see you cry out in distress,” he replies flatly.

Inwardly, you scoff at the sadistic nature of his words but choose to remain silent.

The room falls into a dead quiet once more. The only sound that pierces the stillness is the distant chirping of crickets outside the window, signalling the gradual shift from summer to autumn. It serves as a reminder that you have just over a month and two weeks left to kill him.

Something shrinks in the space of your chest.

Simple. This task should have been simple, but this demon has proven to be more trying.

“Since you have so graciously interrupted my rest, you might as well indulge me,” Sukuna’s deep voice cuts through your anxious thoughts.

He strides over to the chair tucked in the corner, pulls it out with a soft scrape, and drags it next to the futon. He places it directly beside you, in what he evidently considers the perfect spot.

Sukuna sinks into the chair, settling in with a casual ease.

His legs are spread wide, his lower arms resting inward while his upper arms drape over the armrests. His posture is one of complete relaxation, making it clear that he has no intention of leaving anytime soon.

Troubling.

“What exactly would you like me to indulge you with, my Lord?” you ask cautiously.

Sukuna fixes you with a lazy smile.

“Tell me about your dream—or your nightmare. Whatever had you making such pitiful noises.”

He scratches his chin and leans back further into the chair, adopting a regal, almost imperious air.

Asshole.

You grind your teeth, stare up at the ceiling, and let out a soft, resigned exhale.

Lie to him.

Basing the dream on a kernel of truth gives it authenticity. A half-lie is better than nothing. Commit to it. He’ll never know, so it shouldn’t matter.

“It was about my mother,” you murmur, your fingers curling tightly around the sheets.

Sukuna’s eyes narrow slightly. “What about her?”

You shift on the futon, feeling the warmth rise beneath your yukata.

The incident of her death is a topic rarely spoken of. After accidentally causing her death, you and your sister avoided discussing it, while your father wielded it as a weapon against you. It remains a taboo subject, a source of deep shame that hits and smothers you like an avalanche for days after.

“Her death,” you begin, pausing as the words try to catch in your throat. You fidget with your hands, digging your nail into your thumb. “I was there when she died.”

Sukuna stares at you, unblinking.

“A death of a family member, how tragic,” he says with a hint of mockery, but his tone turns low and measured. “What happened?”

Now is the time for your lie.

“She died in childbirth.”

He offers no reaction. Face unreadable. Red orbs like stone.

“How long ago?”

“Seven years.” It’s the truth.

“So, when you were nothing more than a little pup then,” he remarks with a petty edge, as if being eighteen years of age when it happened is somehow insignificant.

You don’t respond.

Sukuna drags a hand through his pink hair, the muscles of his abdomen shifting and contorting around the closed slit of his stomach maw. The movement is distracting, and you force yourself to look away, focusing instead on the enigma that is his mask on the right side of his face.

“Is that all?” he questions, his chin tilted as he peers down at you.

No, you're also present in the dream.

“Yes, my Lord, that is all.”

Sukuna rests his elbow on the armrest, his right fist propped against his face as he eyes you.

“Then I expect you to address your sleep issues. I’m not going to tolerate your nightly wailing.”

“Of course, I apologize for waking you,” you reply quickly. “I was considering asking Uraume to prepare a sleeping draft.” You offer this solution in hopes he’ll approve.

“No,” he dismisses your suggestion curtly, and you frown. “They have better things to do than make a draft for you every night.”

Of course. They were probably too busy preserving bodies for him to consume.

“Alright, then perhaps—”

“I have a better suggestion,” he interrupts, leaning forward with a dangerous smile.

Something rings in your mind, like a warning, like he’s leading you down an unknown path that you're bound to become lost on.

“And… what is your suggestion, my Lord?” you ask with hesitancy.

The corner of Sukuna’s mouth curls into a deeper smirk, his expression fiendish, canines flashing.

“The body relaxes after finding release.”

Adrenaline and panic races through your veins.

You subtly wet your lips and try to swallow the lump that has formed in your throat, feeling it dry and stick.

“I—I don’t understand,” you murmur.

He clicks his tongue, lowering his arm with a dismissive gesture.

“Ah yes, my wife, the prude,” he sneers. “Are you so naive that you don’t even know how to touch yourself?”

His words make your skin flush, his scrutiny cutting. You do know how, though it’s not something you often engage in.

“Yes. I know,” you manage to force out.

“Is that so? How often?”

You blink several times, the weight of his intrusive questioning makes you shrink back.

“I’m not sure. Not very often… just a handful of times, I suppose.”

Sukuna glances down at his four hands, as if the concept of a “handful” is entirely different from his own.

“Be more specific, brat. Elaborate.”

“I-I don’t really know. Maybe a couple. Two or three times a year, perhaps?” You ramble, your discomfort evident.

Masturbating was rare for you. Naturally, your aversion to physical contact—both touching and being touched—significantly dampened your enjoyment. Despite this, you could admit that when you did indulge, it sparked a curiosity for more, but was never fulfilled.

“A couple?” Sukuna scoffs, eyebrow cutting upward. “Why so infrequent? Don’t you enjoy your own cunt?”

Your throat tightens as his probing questions become increasingly discomfiting. You shift your gaze away, unable to meet his eyes.

“No, it’s not that I dislike it,” you explain, struggling to articulate your unease. “It’s just that physical conta—touching—is somewhat of an issue for me.”

Don’t admit that, you idiot.

“Even when it comes to yourself?”

“Sometimes.”

Stop it.

“Is that why you insistently wear those gloves?”

Stop revealing so much.

“For the most part.”

What the fuck are you doing?

Sukuna falls silent, his gaze lingering first on your hands, and finally on your face for what feels like an eternity. The prolonged stare makes you shift again on the futon.

A knowing look starts to crawl across his face.

The silence stretches for a heartbeat longer before he breaks it.

“Show me.”

What?

“My Lord, I don’t understand.”

He huffs out a breath in frustration.

“You have dragged me out of my sleep with your screaming. I expect you to address this issue so we don’t encounter it again,” he says, leaning back. “Touch yourself. Show me how you find pleasure when you're alone.” He watches intently as your composure begins to slip.

Your heart races as you open your mouth to speak, but his raised eyebrow warns you against protesting.

“I—”

“You know how much I hate repeating myself, wife. I’ll say it once more, so it sinks in. Touch yourself. I won’t leave this room until you cum.” He tilts his head pointedly to where your lower body is hidden beneath the sheets.

Your cheeks flush with a mix of hesitation and frustration.

“I can’t possibly do that with you here.”

He looks at you as if you're a moron.

“Tch, you're hopeless. Just pretend I’m not here,��� he sneers, as if it's feasible for you to ignore the King of Curses sitting an arm's length away. “Close your eyes. Fill your mind with something pleasant only you can enjoy.” Sukuna settles deeper into the chair, his massive legs extending as if preparing for a show.

Something pleasant.

For you, it meant the smallest gestures—soft kisses and gentle touches. These were things you had only seen or heard about in passing, which you often thought about at night. On the rare occasions when you let your guard down, you’d bury your hand between your thighs, lost in these fleeting thoughts.

Straightening up on the futon, you glance at Sukuna, hoping he might decide to leave so you could—

“I’ll wait here all night if I must,” he says, casually tucking one ankle over the other. “And if you try to fake it, I’ll know.”

Fucking arrogant man.

Mentally, you resolve that when the day finally comes and you succeed in killing him, you will take a moment beforehand to enumerate everything you dislike about him.

His cockiness, his cruelty, his stupid charisma, face, eyes, body, arms, legs, hands.

“My Lord, if I do this…” you murmur, lowering your eyes. “Will you stay there, unmoving?”

A low chuckle rumbles from his throat.

“Oh, come now. Don’t you trust me?” His tone is filled with menace. You look back at him, eyes narrowing.

Trust him?

In your mind, you're giving him the best death stare you can muster.

“Why would I ever trust you?” The words come out more unrefined than intended.

His upper right eye twitches.

Silence.

“You're wasting time,” he says dismissively, ignoring your question.

You let out a shaky breath and tilt your head forward, trying to avoid Sukuna's gaze.

“Fine,” you mumble, smoothing the sheets between your fingers as a distraction.

The same mantra that got you through your first night at the shrine returns to you.

You must stay. You have to do this.

You swallow, shut your eyes and lay back in surrender.

The soft coverings draped over you pull away first, and the cool night air brushes against your skin. Goosebumps rise beneath your garment.

Guiding a shaky hand down to the hem of your yukata, you slowly lift it to reveal just your thighs. The exposure sends your heartbeat racing with humiliation. You have never done anything like this before, and you intend to show him nothing more than your thighs. There’s no way in hell you're lifting your yukata any further. You will cling to your modesty for as long as you can.

The sound of creaking wood to your left makes you freeze.

You open your eyes and glance in that direction.

Sukuna remains seated in the chair, which is a small relief. However, you notice he has leaned forward slightly, his red eyes tracing the length of your body in the dim light.

You squeeze your eyes shut again.

Get this over with, find your release, get the demon out of here.

Something pleasant.

You once witnessed a brazen display of intimacy at one of your clan gatherings. A man attended to a concubine with a sensual touch, kissing the underside of her jaw, her neck, and her collarbone. The way he caressed and worshipped her was so tender that you saw her eyes close in a moment of submissive bliss.

You understood that such an experience was something you would never have yourself, but that was fine. You had the memory—something to reflect upon, just as you're now.

You hadn't realized it, but your hands had already begun drifting across your clothed breasts. Your fingertips gingerly graze the fabric, slowly making their way to your nipples. As you trace over the nubs, you press firmly, causing them to harden, and a pleasant warmth gradually spreads throughout your body.

Your hands gently slide down until they reach the tops of your thighs. You then carefully begin to part them, moving with deliberate slowness.

At first, there's a sense of reluctance, hesitation that makes you feel uneasy. Despite this initial discomfort, one of your hands eventually slips beneath the hem of the garment.

Your mind drifts back to the memory, recalling how the concubine reacted. You remember her soft moaning as her lover's hand glided over her feverish skin. The way the man’s arousal bulged beneath his clothing and how her delicate fingers traced its length, eliciting deep groans from him.

That was all you saw before they were ushered away to a private location. In a way that feels almost pathetic, just fantasizing about it was enough to make you feel aroused.

As your mind fills with your something-pleasant thoughts, your fingertips gradually reach your damp folds. You take a deep breath and gently dip them in.

A low sigh escapes you at the contact.

Every tense muscle begins to relax as you press your fingertips to your swollen clit. Your heightened sensitivity means that even a few small, tight circles are enough to spread a shiver across your body.

It’s almost absurd how quickly you might start cumming.

With each back-and-forth of your fingers, you throb harder, skin heating. You begin to grind your thighs together for more friction, soft little pants escaping your mouth.

You hear Sukuna take a deep exhale but choose to ignore it, focusing instead on your approaching release.

As you get closer, a pleasant warmth begins to reach and unfurl inside your belly.

Back and forth, faster, more pressure.

The impending climax causes your brows to furrow and your eyes to flutter into a soft squint.

When you open them again, you see four heavy-lidded eyes fixed on your trembling form as you lose yourself in this rare moment of ecstasy.

Sukuna’s hands are clenched into tight fists as though struggling to stay anchored in the damn chair.

The expression on his face makes you screw your eyes tightly shut once more.

Back and forth, harder. Spreading the wetness onto your fingers and inner thighs. Your sex clenches. You're right on the precipice of cumming.

The room tilts as your back starts to arch involuntarily. You bite the inside of your cheek, struggling to stifle a moan that is desperate to escape.

Any moment now.

You press your heels into the plush futon, thighs clenching and grinding tightly together.

You're going to cum. You're going to—mouth dropping open, a needy moan drags out of you.

“Ahh!”

“Fuck.” Sukuna breathes.

Suddenly, added weight presses down on the futon, and the hand that was under your garment rubbing your engorged clit is yanked away, denying your orgasm.

Your eyes snap open.

Sukuna's gigantic figure kneels before you. Despite the dim light in the room, you can see his eyes wide with an intense, almost ravenous hunger, like a man starving. His upper left hand grips your wrist tightly.

“W-wait,” you sputter, sitting up in a daze and trying to break free.

"Tsk.”

As you make the effort, Sukuna's right upper hand swiftly grabs your other wrist, pinning both your arms to the futon. The sudden pressure forces you back down, and you gasp sharply as your back hits the sheets. In an instant, he moves to hover above you.

In this closeness, the two of you stop moving.

He looks down at you, chest rising and falling, while you look up at him, trembling.

As he leans in closer, the space between your bodies evaporates. You take in the sight of his four eyes, the fire within them, and the ripple pattern almost entirely swallowed by darkness.

His red gaze falls to the junction of your thighs while his lower right hand moves to the hem of your garment and takes hold of it. His eyes return to your flushed face, and the fabric begins to lift.

Your sense of vulnerability causes your breathing to quicken, drawing in the heavy scent of his musk, thick with iron and smoke. It fills your senses, muddling your mind. 

Sukuna.

“My Lord,” you whisper, voice sounding small.

As your soft, almost desperate words reach him, a crooked grin slowly stretches across his lips.

“Shh,” he coos. “I’m just going to help you overcome your fear of being touched.”

Your face pales at his words, a wave of shame washing over you as you regret having revealed so much to him.

With nervous eyes, you watch as he slowly continues to pull the garment up, exposing your hips, then navel. His gaze follows the movement with unwavering focus, eventually settling on your cunt.

His eyes darken to char, and a deep rumble emanates from his chest at the sight of your slick folds. He takes in the sight with hunger in his eyes, as if he's been waiting for this moment.

“Look how fucking wet you are,” he growls, licking his bottom lip before leaning his face closer to your core. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch in horror, his nostrils flaring as he takes a deep, deliberate inhale, savouring you. 

“Mmmhn,” he purrs, his smile lit with smug satisfaction. “I wonder what you will taste like.”

Without warning, the maw on his abdomen opens wide, and the wet tongue emerges, panting and drooling as if spurred on by the scent of your arousal.

A thrum of fear unfolds inside you at the sight of the large, glistening muscle and feel the warm breath puffing against your tender flesh. You flinch and let out a soft whimper, instinctively trying to push yourself away by pressing your heels into the futon. However, his grip on your wrists is a vice. Sukuna’s eyes lock onto yours with a warning, and you freeze in place.

Darkness envelops you as he crowds you even closer.

You try to draw in a breath, but the air feels suffocatingly elusive. His massive body occupies every bit of available space, his presence overwhelming, all-consuming.

Drowning, you're drowning in him.

His lower hands move to your legs, sliding along them, dimpling the skin as he goes. Reaching your inner thighs, blunt nails poke into your heated flesh as he spreads and manipulates them. All you can do is watch as they open wider, wider—so much wider before he settles between them.

His lower right hand reaches toward the ankle he injured and healed. You flinch at the touch and the memory. His hand momentarily stills.

He exhales with a huff.

“I’m not going to hurt you, brat,” he grunts, almost as if trying to convince himself that he’s not a monster.

He presses his thumb down, tracing slow, soothing circles along the gentle curve of where he had hurt you. The gesture is unexpectedly tender, leaving you feeling confused and an urge to pull away. 

The action is short-lived before he wraps his hand tightly around your calf, bends your leg to the side, and slots his knee gently against your inner thigh, keeping it open. His lower left arm shifts to guide your other leg upward, hooking it over the crook of his elbow.

Pleased with the sight of your helpless body partially dangling above the futon, spread open and at his mercy, he ceases his movements, taking the time to admire you.

His four greedy eyes wander, taking in every inch of your thighs and hips but lingering most on the throbbing center between your legs.

You turn your anxious face away from his gaze, but he presses his upper right hand to the side of your face, its size overwhelming as he brings you back to him.

“Look at me, don’t look away,” he commands. “I want to see those timid eyes you always look at me with.”

As you look up at him through your lashes, you feel your walls start to crumble.

“There you are.” His voice is smooth as he runs his thumb along your cheek before sliding it down your jaw and bringing it away to rest against your slit. His index and middle fingers graze your wetness, but he pauses, leaving them there. Seeing them rest against your skin, you realize how big they are compared to yours.

A contemplative expression crosses his face, soon replaced by an intense, unrestrained need that sends heat racing up your spine.

Sukuna dips his fingers between your soaking folds.

You exhale raggedly.

Fingers nestled only partially inside, he drags them with lazy precision, up and down. That first touch was like fuel to the fire. Making you dizzy, making your wretched body want to grind your hips to feel more.

But you don’t allow it. You will not allow it.

Drenched in your slick, he withdraws his fingers and places them before the maw on his torso, where the tongue drags across and laps up your essence.

Sukuna tosses his head back.

“Fuck, yes,” he rasps, groaning loudly at the very first taste of you.

The sight of his face tipped back, mouth agape, eyes heavy, has you clenching around nothing.

Oh, god. What the fuck is happening?

Shame attempts to poke a hole in your thoughts at becoming aroused in his feral state.

Your anxiety intensifies, and your overthinking spirals into panic. Control, you need control back.

Desperately, you try to slip free, your restrained hands twitching against the futon as you begin to squirm.

Sukuna refocuses on you, intensifying his grip to keep you immobile. His fingers dig into your wrists, and his imposing form draws nearer. The arm that hooks around your leg presses down, forcing your hips to tilt and folding you nearly in half.

A small squeal escapes you at this compromising angle. Sukuna chuckles low at seeing you in this vulnerable state, pussy directly in his line of vision, completely powerless to him.

Gazing down into your eyes, he presses his index and middle fingers to his mouth, moistening them with saliva. A black tattoo flickers across his tongue, making you wonder where else such markings might be concealed on his perfect bod—

No.

Saliva-coated fingers are guided back to you. Lying on your back, you lift your head from the futon to watch as he presses them against your navel, then slowly drags them down to your folds, leaving a sticky trail behind.

He pauses, maintaining unbroken eye contact.

Your mind races, trying to figure out what the hell he’s about to do next.

If it’s anything your attendants told you, he won’t be pleasuring you. So what—what the fuck is he doing? Because the look in his eyes says everything. It says, 'You have no idea what you have got yourself into, brat.’

Palm flat to your sensitive flesh, he starts to press his middle finger in.

“Wait—”

“Too late.”

He slides it in deep, filling your cunt completely.

A cry breaks from your throat, and you dig your restrained hands to the sheets of the futon, head falling back, writhing against the stretch. Sukuna groans at how you feel around him.

“Tight,” he growls, gripping you possessively. “You're so fucking tight for me.”

His thumb finds its way to your aching clit, and with one subtle swipe, your traitorous body reacts, hips desperately snapping up for more. His eyes flare at seeing you like this, unravelling for him. Desperate to be touched.

“I’m going to enjoy this needy little cunt of yours,” he bites out, grinning arrogantly.

He withdraws his finger. Meeting your eye, he brings both index and middle fingers together before taking his time to slide them both back into your slick pussy. You watch as he buries them all the way to the knuckles on a wet sound.

You bite down on your tongue to keep from desperately begging for more.

He gives you time to adjust, letting you feel how full he can make you before pulling out and pushing back in, back out, back in, back out.

Faster. Harder.

You whine from the ache, clamping and squeezing down on his fingers.

Too much. It’s too much.

The sensation is so overwhelming you try to relieve the ache by closing your thighs, only for Sukuna to push back against you with a grunt. 

He continues driving into you, spearing you faster, setting a brutal pace. Each time he pushes his fingers in, the sound of your slick fills your ears, making you pulsate.

Struggling to stay silent, you feel too ashamed to let your voice reveal the desperation he's causing. You don't want him to hear just how close he is pushing you to the brink of madness.

As if sensing your hesitance, Sukuna presses and curls his two fingers deep inside you. You buck up against him, mumbling a plea, clouded by pleasure.

“Give me more. Let me hear you,” he urges as he leans in, your faces so close, noses almost touching. His upper eyes lock intently on your expressions while his lower pair are enthralled by his fingers disappearing and reappearing inside you.

You shake your head, and his eyes narrow at your reluctance.

“Yes. Stop hiding from me and give me fucking more of you!” he snarls, bearing his teeth and punctuating the words as he drives his fingers in and out, making it burn to sear hot.

“I can’t! Please, i-it’s too much,” you sob, struggling to keep up and unable to hold his eyes any longer. You quickly turn your head away.

“Don’t you dare look away from me,” he commands, moving his lower left hand to cup the side of your face, thumb gripping your jaw roughly, tilting you to meet his gaze.

You give him a pleading look, and his hand, pumping inside of you, slows to a steady pace before stopping.

“Tell me what you need,” his voice drops, becoming gentler. “Use your words, brat.”

Your mind can’t quite function. Words are lost to you, but he wants an answer. 

“Release.” Is all you say, breathlessly, a little unsure of yourself.

“Do you want me to give you the remedy for your bad dreams?” he chuckles lowly, head dipping down to get a better look at you. You give a silent nod, and he smirks, withdrawing his fingers from inside you, making your breath catch at the loss. “Heh, how delightful,” he mocks.

Your face heats, and you go to open your mouth, but his index and middle fingertips find your clit. He doesn’t waste time. He presses down on the swollen nub, drawing slow, steady circles that have you moaning.

Your hips start to shift back and forth in tandem with the motion of his fingers. 

“You like that, don’t you?” he husks. 

“Uh-huh.” You nod eagerly, unable to form words, earning you a devious smile that makes you clench.

His body starts to sway in sync with yours as he adds more pressure, fingers moving faster.

Something wet splatters and drips onto the sheets, and you glance down between the valley of your bodies to see the maw drooling over the space between your thighs.

You barely have time to process the mess before Sukuna grabs a handful of your hair with his lower left hand and yanks your head back, exposing your neck.

You wince as pinpricks of pain dance along your scalp.

He leans in, sticking out the flat of his tongue and traces a long path from your collarbone to the underside of your jaw. The sensation makes your toes curl, making you dizzy.

“Cum for me,” he breathes against your skin, licking, grazing teeth at the underside of your jaw, fingers pressing harder, circling over and over onto your sensitive clit.

Low in your stomach, a warmth coils and constricts, tightening in anticipation.

Your hips start to lift higher to reach his hand, your moans becoming louder. 

Sukuna breathes heavily against your neck before opening his mouth to press his lips against your heated skin. His teeth sink in, breaking the flesh and making you cry out. He pulls back slightly to give the wound a slow, languid lick, then leans back to look down at you. Blood smears across his mouth, which he licks away, enjoying the taste.

With no warning, he gives your overstimulated clit a small swat, then a flick that almost knocks you out but instead has you convulsing under him.

“Oh, f-fuck,” you breathe.

Disoriented and desperate to find something to hold onto, your restrained hands dig into the sheets with such intensity that it’s painful.

Sukuna sees your need for contact and finally relents his hold on your right wrist.

Slowly, he guides your hand to rest at his nape. Your fingers instinctively clutch and press against his skin while your thumb gently wraps around his throat.

You don’t even comprehend what you're doing—that your hand is touching his skin. He’s right there, beneath your fingertips. This is why you came here, why you were forced to marry him.

You can kill him right now. But you don't.

When you come back to yourself, out of the spell he’s put you under, you will regret every moment of this.

But for now, you're too lost, too far gone.

At this very moment, it’s just this. You don’t have a father who fucking despises you, a sister you're trying to protect, or a mother whose death you caused.

It’s just this.

“Don’t stop, p-please, whatever you do, don’t stop,” you babble to him.

“Desperate whore,” he growls, crowding his face into your neck.

His mask grazes you while he licks away any sweat that beads there, fingers working faster, strumming back and forth against that sensitive nub. The sound of your wetness gushes onto him, you, to your inner thighs so loud.

“Soaking us so good, just like I knew you would,” he mumbles and breathes against your ear. 

His upper left hand threads back into your hair, tugging it, forcing you to arch your back into each stroke, legs twitching, tears flooding your bowing eyes, then rolling back. 

Faster. Harder.

“Please!” you whine.

The pleasure you denied yourself for so long crashes down on you. 

On a deep guttural moan, your orgasm rips you apart violently.

“Sukuna!” His name coming from your lips is foreign, and he responds with a low hiss.

“There you go,” he coos, observing how effortlessly you fall apart.

Your hand tightens around his neck, your nails digging into his skin. He groans at the contact, exhaling deeply.

As everything swells and peaks, your cunt clenches.

He withdraws his fingers from your clit to place the flat of his palm against your pussy, just to feel you throb and pulse for him. You buck into it, rolling your hips, rubbing up and down.

“That’s it. Show me how much you needed this.” His voice is so rough and coarse that it makes you grind harder. Mesmerized by your undulating hips, he starts rubbing his palm into the wet release, pooling at your entrance.

You can’t stop moaning, can’t stop shaking, but he keeps you held tightly to him, refusing to let go.

Both of your bodies writhe together, milking your release. Your breathing laboured his fanning against your skin.

Slowly, your hips relax, his palm stops rubbing, and both of you become still.

Silence envelops the room, broken only by the sound of crickets.

Sukuna’s hand rests against you, his face buried in your neck. His warm breath on your skin makes your eyes grow heavy, ready to fall.

Your hand, pressed against his nape, itches to move.

You slide it away, gaze tracking its path as it traces the swell and warmth of muscles on his upper left shoulder.

It feels strange to see your hand on another’s body, to see it on him.

Something pleasant.

As you move your hand down towards his chest, Sukuna’s body tenses. You're drawn to the black ink marking his skin, longing to trace the pattern, to touch him more, to lay your palm flat and feel the rhythm of his—

Sukuna flinches away from you. With jarring speed, he is off the futon and almost across the room in an instant.

You sit up in a panic, his sudden movements snapping you out of your daze as you hurriedly pull your yukata down to cover yourself.

It’s as if he’s been burned, trying to escape from you as quickly as possible, as if touching you had been a big, giant, colossal, irredeemable mistake.

And wasn’t it?

Weren’t you both merely consumed by need, abandoning all reason and rational thought?

Yes.

To him, you're merely a possession—a piece of property bound to him by title alone. He has deliberately taken you from your clan as an act of defiance against your father. And in this volatile dynamic, he is merely a target for you to get close to and kill, or perhaps the reverse…

The way he’s glaring down at you makes your insides twist.

Sukuna appears exactly how he looks in your nightmare. Every detail, right down to the terrible way he tenses as if he’s struggling to hold himself back.

You're certain that he’s about to kill you after dragging you through such agonizing ecstasy and back.

In that moment, you weigh your options: should you prepare to reach for your cursed gift or plead for your miserable life? He can end you from where he stands, while you must touch him to activate your ability. The latter is your only chance.

Because you can’t afford to die just yet, your sister still needs saving. She needs to be protected. You cannot allow your father to destroy her.

Your anxious gaze darts to Sukuna’s upper right hand, dreading the extension of those two fingers that have the power to inflict so, so much damage—those same fingers that were just touching you, feeding you, waking up your entire body.

He steps towards the futon, and you recoil away, staring at him.

His eyes cut, and the furrow between his mask and eyebrow deepens.

One step closer to you, and his index and middle fingers extend.

Panic washes over you.

No!

You sit up.

“Wait, please!” You rasp. It’s a plea and a desperate one at that.

He stops and looks at you with such unbridled disdain that it’s no surprise when you hear him mutter the word “weak” under his breath.

Without another word, he turns on his heel, slides the door open, and slams it shut with a resounding bang.

* * * * *

🔗 Chapter 9

[gaoau]

just thinking...

two in fall and one in winter.

pairing — kugisaki nobara x fem!reader word count — 1.5k warnings — spoilers for chapter 124 / s2 ep8 onwards

it's ambiguous. it has been for quite some time. everyone pretends not to know anything; everyone pretends not to hear.

the sky is crystal clear as [name] stares at the vibrant cyan expanse, so high up it seems farther out of reach than it used to before. the gaps between the naked leaves sneer down at her; nothing but a jarring reminder of the emptiness left behind by the bleak winter. she fails to understand her own reasons for fearing letting go. there's nothing to let go of, though. she doesn't know what it is she should be letting go. no one has told her what to do from here on out. no one has even bothered talking to her at all.

it's so ambiguous. it's so ambiguous that it almost tears her apart inside and outside. it pulls at the seams with uncertainty because no one ever dares to even pronounce nobara's name anymore. among her trusted upperclassmen, one holds no information she can pry out of him, and the other one barely allows questioning. fushiguro refuses to be cooperative, acting as brooding and mysterious as he's always done, but what good are those traits of him now that [name] is desperate for answers? not to mention itadori—not to mention cute, bubbly, friendly, reassuring itadori. not to mention him and the fact that no one's informed him of anything either. not to mention him and the guilt in his eyes whenever he catches sight of [name]'s grief. not to mention him and [name]'s unjustified anger towards his failure to keep nobara alive during that battle in shibuya.

she's deflecting. she knows she is. she's firmly prohibiting her own face and pains from changing. she's forcing a defense mechanism onto her loss because she doesn't know what she's lost. she doesn't know if the story has come to an end and she's supposed to move on. she doesn't know how much hope she should be holding out for. she doesn't know why now that nobara's not here to chat her ear off with trivial issues, suddenly she's missing her presence.

it all comes back to haunt her in echoes of adoration. the way nobara mercilessly used her to haul all of her bags while strolling through the bustling streets of tokyo. bags upon bags hanging off her tired arms, boxes upon boxes piling up on her sore palms. nobara threatened her to never drop a single one of her precious items. [name] had heard those same words pointed towards itadori, followed by seeing the poor boy cowering in utter fear in the middle of chattering crowds. she had instantly agreed to fushiguro's offer to escape those two idiots before they got dragged into their dramatic scene.

when a bag fell once, all on their own, the two of them together by themselves. when nobara whipped around, glare burning with the passion of a billion suns. when she stomped over to [name] as she waited for the oncoming string of curses. when she growled so gently, "careful with that one, [name]! it's for you!" when she snatched it off the floor and kept it safe in her hands until they returned to the dorms.

now she's missing all that. the sheer pressuring terror of accidentally dropping one of nobara's brand new purchases, the grating sound of her voice barking at [name] to make sure she was following close behind, the excited sparkle in her glimmering brown eyes when she spotted an unvisited store. all of it, so annoying, pushing down on [name], tightening her chest and squeezing the air out of her lungs. treated like nothing more than a handy slave. treasured like a dear friend who she was willing to spend money on.

[name] fails to understand her own reasons. if it was all so annoying, if now she's free of exhausting shopping sprees, why is she crying so loudly? why won't the tears stop flowing?

she doesn't want to repeat answers she already knows. she demands those answers no one has yet given her. "show me a grave, give me her hammer, tell me she's dead. i don't care, just let me have some—" and her words fall on deaf ears as fushiguro slams another door on her face. her. her. her. it was always her and never nobara. her name hasn't been spoken since.

the uncontrollable wrath that overcame [name] when itadori showed up unscathed and asked the same questions as her. the audacity of that boy. she was on him faster than his sharp reflexes could react. she knew and she still knows how unjustified her grudge is, but what other choice does she have when her last memories of nobara are those of her mangled body lying in a grotesque puddle of her own blood? plenty of fond moments she could look back on, yet all of them are stained and dripping in the horror of that last time she ever saw her.

[name] catches the tears streaming down her cheeks with the back of her hand. one after the other, they won't stop coming no matter how many times she wipes them away. nobara would have laughed at her.

her back brushes against the fragile trunk of the apple tree she planted with her own two hands. it's growing, strong and healthy. she's proud of herself for such a deed. in the midst of the culling game, she makes sure to drop by the school every now and then to watch over it—to mourn.

it rings in her ears like another painful echo, this time louder. adoration, something stronger. a tight bond, so close, so intimate.

nobara didn't want to stick her hands into the dirt and get soil underneath her nails. [name] tugged at her wrists to force her to help out. "come on! it's not every day you get to plant a tree!" for good reason. it's not every day one gets to form such a powerful memory. how dangerous it can be when the tree shall outlive the people.

carving a whole into the ground, hauling the sapling into it, spreading the dirt as evenly as possible. [name] took care of tying it to keep it straight while nobara whined about how dry her skin felt after labor. she was sipping from a water bottle, gazing as [name] admired their tough work, when she turned towards her with a grin.

"you've planted a tree. now all you got left is writing a book and having a child."

"having a child? we already have itadori."

[name]'s chuckles were source of energy for the apple tree and nobara herself. "then what'll you write your book about?"

"about that time i planted a tree."

a tree she left behind. a tree that remains. a tree that thrives, so why doesn't her future thrive as well? where has her future gone?

growing every moment stronger, tighter, brighter. another flashback of sweet, innocent love. the color of the sky and the scent of the fall breeze. days prior to halloween, before they understood what a life surrounded by curses meant for the two of them. if she didn't know any better, [name] would agree with herself for once, comparing this bleak december sunset to an evening in october and painting them in the same feeling.

she remembers. she thinks and she remembers. she thinks too much. the growing apple tree behind her casts its frail shadow over her folded body. snapping pictures of nobara's outline against the setting sun, against the vibrant pinks blending into burning oranges. her body, her clothes, her hair, her expression all covered in the darkest shade of deepest black. the same way the night gobbles [name] up in her own memories.

one more sob rips from her throat, because she remembers. that chilly day of dried leaves crunching beneath their feet. that fleeting moment when nobara got a bit too bold. she feels her heart ache, thumping loudly in her chest, regretting not cherishing more how it had skipped. the butterflies, the giddiness, the softness, the knowledge that she touched heaven with her hands the instant nobara stole an unannounced kiss.

all those could-have-beens overflowing. it skips and it hurts and it's so numb. reality simply refuses to sink in—[name] doesn't allow it to sink in. she doesn't know what reality is anymore. if all that comes after this last round is loneliness and an empty hole, then she'd much rather let it continue like this.

the shadows hold her close as she thinks. there's nothing wrong with wanting or holding out for hope.

[name] rises from the ground, stretching sore muscles towards the night sky. she winces at the popping of her spine. a sniffle replaces the endless tears. "i wonder what we'll eat for dinner…" her eyes flicker back to the growing apple tree. there are no crunching leaves beneath her feet as she walks away.

—あごす (agosu) • 2021

[alesyira]

ShinDeku Day 15: Fears

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Izuku shakes his head once, blinking quickly to try and stop the tears he can feel threatening. "He was—"

He doesn’t really want to talk about this part of his history. "We were kids—"

This feels like one of his worst-case scenarios, one of the fears hovering on the horizon, something he didn’t want to face. He clasps his hands in front of his chest, wringing his fingers together.

He’d pushed these memories to the back of his mind. 

He’d never intended to bring up his past with another living person. 

But Hitoshi already suspects enough to be dangerous. He could draw conclusions, he could assume the worst, he-

He has to explain, quickly. "Kacch—"

Izuku's eyes widen in horrified shock. 

That name.

He hasn’t-

years.

He’s desperate to stop this, now.

Tears spill as he tries to clarify. "Katsuki-" 

His voice gets stuck and catches on a sob.

Hitoshi doesn't let him flounder for another moment, pulling him up on his knees to crush him in a tight hug. Izuku feels the breath wheeze out of his chest, but he soaks up the strength while it's wrapped around him. He buries his face in Hitoshi’s shoulder and lets himself be squished, his arms trapped between their torsos. 

Hitoshi holds him for a minute until he wiggles free, reaching for the box of tissues beside the bed. 

Figures, he thinks. Nearly naked boyfriend in bed and I’ve just gotta break out the ugly sobbing. 

(This wasn’t what he’d had in mind while leading his boyfriend in a merry chase toward the bedroom.)

Hitoshi leans against him from behind, the warm weight of his arms draping around his shoulders. His nose buries in his hair, his breath fluttering the strands as he sighs. "I didn’t mean to push."

Izuku sniffles once, rubbing the tissue beneath his nose. He idly kicks his feet that dangle off the edge of the bed. 

Mood.

Killed.

He leans over to drop his trash in the wastebin.

Hitoshi gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze, then slips around his side to kneel on the floor before him. He reaches up to cup Izuku's cheeks between his hands.

They stare at one another for a long moment as he brushes his thumbs across his cheekbones, wiping away the remnants of tears. 

There's a trickle of warm appreciation that Hitoshi has placed himself like this, lower than Izuku, so that he has to look up to meet his gaze. Izuku feels somehow better that he's able to look down into his boyfriend's face.

A wordless apology hangs in the air.

Izuku slips his hand through pale purple locks, his fingers seeking out the scarring he'd found earlier. 

He tugs a little, drawing his boyfriend closer, parting his knees around his chest as warm arms wind loosely around his waist. 

Hitoshi’s fingertips trace little patterns along Izuku’s back as they look at each other. His eyes flick across his cheeks, and Izuku wonders if he’s counting his freckles.

He swallows and tries to speak, but his voice comes out as an embarrassing squeak. Hitoshi gently scratches his fingernails across his back, and Izuku's eyes nearly cross from the unexpectedly nice sensation that ripples straight through him. Hitoshi hums with curiosity and repeats the gesture a little harder.

Izuku’s next breath is a shuddering sigh.

His thoughts are a little scattered now, but he has the presence of mind to ask what he’d meant to before his voice had gotten stuck. "You- you aren’t mad, are you?"

Hitoshi presses his forehead to his breastbone and gives him a gentle hug, a warm sigh brushing across the skin of his chest. "I'm mad at someone, but not you."

He tilts his head back to peer up into Izuku's face. "Never you," he murmurs. "I really am sorry."

Izuku leans down, almost close enough to kiss, keeping that scant distance between their lips as their breaths mingle. 

The electric anticipation of so close sparks between them.

Hitoshi's lips part. He's patiently waiting for Izuku to close the distance, but he won't, not yet.

Izuku chews on his lip, happy to prolong this moment so that he can fully appreciate the nuances in Hitoshi's expression, the lowered lashes nearly hiding his amethyst gaze, the soft flush spreading across his cheeks, the way it's almost like he's begging for a taste.  

Feeling a little empowered, his next question is particularly inspired. "How are you going to make it up to me?"

Hitoshi's lips curl into a wide smile. "Tell me what you want, Izuku," he murmurs into the space between them.

Izuku shivers at the puff of breath against his lips. 

His eyes flutter shut as he whispers his reply. "Everything."

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AN: the writing from here on through 27 has been a tricky dance of how much / too much / too soon / we got this / gonna edit the shit out of this later / it's fine just roll with it / okay maybe dial it back some / oh but wait what about-

SO if I end up posting one or two of these a bit later than 'daily' it's because I'm still waffling about the details lolllll

[thebarefootcajun]

Lake Lauban Fishing Surprise

On Lake Lauban while fishing for perch I noticed him about a mile away

Shirtless, I figured must be a man, was the 1930’s, not many women fished out on lakes on a boat

And certainly no woman would have been brazen enough to bare that much skin

Wasn’t catching much fish since I’d gotten there mid morning

“Should have come earlier,” I thought to myself

Was in the mood to be alone on water with a cooler full of iced beer and my thoughts

Struggling lately with unmet sexual urges, I thought maybe this would occupy my mind

Seeing bare skin just reinforced the urges

And thinking it might be a man just added to the excitement

Made me even hornier

No way there was another closeted queer on Lake Lauban

Queer since that was the term used during that time

Not always a politically correct term used today, unless you’re of the queer family

Back to Lake Lauban

The person seemed to be coming my way, maybe the North wind blowing him since I wasn’t hearing a motor

I stayed put, not sure what I’d encounter, I was much closer to the dock should I need a fast escape

BTW, Wayne here telling this story

If you’re inclined to know more

I’m a big guy

6 feet, 5 inches

Pretty much all muscle

A thick stache

Bald

With lots of sunscreen since I love the feel of sun on my bald head

Matches the rest of me, Cajun with tanned skin

I work a lot without a shirt

Also hang out nude in my backyard on the prairie

Not a soul around me in a five mile radius

So definitely a guy as his boat inches closer

I’m 50ish

Not sure his age

He’s bearded with longish straight hair

Tanned as I am

Indicative of an outdoorsman

Brown hair and beard

Around his naked neck he sports a string, maybe twine since it’s frayed, supporting a black shiny gem

I’m interested in this guy, but hide that for fear of my life

Time and area, neither queer friendly

If he’s local I’ve never seen him before

But I’m quite the introvert

The wind moves him close enough, his boat tapping my pirogue

He says, “Bonjour, Mon Ami. Ca va?” (Good Day, my friend. How

are you)

I answer, “mais oui, mon ami, ça va.” (We’ll, yes, my friend, it goes)

As we chatted some more, my suspicion was right

His motor quit on him

The wind blew him towards me

Our boats continuing to bump lightly, we made small talk:

About the fish biting

What kind of bait he was using

What was wrong with his motor

And the like; you know small talk

Sensing he was interested, too, in more than small talk made me a bit nervous

Not really experienced in two men sensuality

Either in man women sensuality

Truth be known, never had a sexual relation with a woman

Only a couple with men

I liked this guy’s look

I felt good vibes

Dancing about, certainly the two of us had interest

Not a term used back in the 1930’s, but our gaydar was working

Not knowing where to go with our conversation anymore

Boldly, I suggested we dock his boat and double up in mine

We could continue to fish together

Quickly, he agreed

An indication we might be thinking the same thing

Knowing Lake Lauban well, I suggested we move out to the northwest quadrant

Always lots of white perch there

Dropping anchor, we cast our rods, tightening them up

Excited to have some encouragement with the bites we received

Relaxing a bit, not a whole lot of talking, we fished

Staring into the water I wondered where his thoughts were

Ninety-two degrees with 💯 percent humidity awash with sweat

Looked like I had dove into the lake with my shirt on

BTW, Richard (pronounced Ree chard) was the guy’s name

He was also wet with sweat

Quiet as I said before

He broke the silence by saying, “Mais, Wayne, enlevé ton t-shirt. Le vent du nord a un effet rafraîchissant.” (Well, Wayne, take off your shirt; the North wind has a cooling effect)

He said this without looking at me

Kind of matter of fact

Thinking, staring into the water, reeling in my line to tighten it

I said, “peut-être, c’est une bonne idée.” (Maybe that’s a good idea)

Waiting a bit I pulled off my t-shirt and wrung it out into the lake

Richard was right

North wind offered me some relief in temperature and in humidity

Richard warmed my heart with his quiet manner

Just sitting by him stirred in me masculine emotions that were just what I needed for today

See, gay men are just like heterosexual men, we need a bond with a sexual counterpart

I felt that with Richard

AND I felt that’s ALL I needed on this day

[musea-reviews]

Kunsthal KAdE (Art Gallery KAdE)

‘’exhibitions on contemporary & modern art, architecture, design, and contemporary visual culture.’’

Location: Amersfoort, Utrecht, The Netherlands Price: 13,- / students 6,- Duration: 0,5 - 1 hour Transport: Walking distance from the station of Amersfoort central. Language: Dutch, but it's more looking than reading Activities: Drawing, making clay figures Date of visit: Thursday 23 February 2023 Expo at that time: Ministry of Fear/Foam by Folkert de Jong website

Since the whole museum has a switching exposition and not a fixed collection, I can not really judge over the museum itself, more about the exposition. The museum is placed at ‘’het Eemsplein’’ locally known for having homeless men harassing you, and they did. The building itself is very modern looking, the whole square it's placed on looks modern, all stone and metal. Just not really my thing.

I was not prepared

I was in the city and had some free time, so I popped in, not knowing what the museum was about. After I was greeted by the friendly staff and put my backpack in a locker and walked thou the big doors, where I saw a naked mannequin (Dick out and all) standing at the end of the hallway, staring at me, holding two heads in his hands. Okay cool anyway, let's walk further. Into a big room with multiple people hanging from the roof. Where the fuck am I??’. I started walking through the exposition and came into a black room with tv’s that played short clips of brain scans, hostages being kicked on the ground, and American soldiers posing with bombs. All the while the sound of a voice was playing, echoing saying things like, you know you're dreaming… right?? And creepy slowed-down music. It made me feel fear, it made me feel uncomfortable. I didn't know what was going on or how I got into this situation. I felt like I was in an Indie horror game like my boyfriend sometimes shows me. I didn't like it.

But the further I walked, the more interesting it got, weird ‘’edgy’’ drawing like that you would see in a high school notebook. I started thinking to myself, what in the ‘’nice guy’’ incel collection is this?? Statues of mutilated dead bodies, and all kinds of colours and textures. As the artist describes, he makes these things from what he has ‘’lying around’’. Looking a bit closer at these characters, I noticed these hands were too detailed to be a mannequin, the wrinkles, and pores and all. It started to scare me, how do I know this guy doesn't just have real humans ‘’lying around’’ based on what I saw earlier I would have believed it.

When you see his work, you already start making a picture in your mind of what this deranged, mentally ill human could look like. But then I saw the interview, a friendly-looking man, a friendly teacher or neighbour vibe to him. Wearing his sweater with soft pink, blue, and yellows. I had judged too quickly, I had made a stereotype and judged the book by its cover. 

Really inspiring

I hated it at first because ‘’these drawings are so stupid, I could make them!’’ ‘’This is not art! He just wants to be edgy’’. I have not made art for myself in a long time, because these are the comments I would get. But this man just does what he wants, he makes great art, and you can see the great skill in his work. He's just having fun, making things up as you go. Doing what he wants or just for the shock value.

In the interview, he talks about how he grew up around bunkers, and his parents always talked about war stories. How he would go to the video store and always rented American horror movies. How he grew up being proud of his country, but the more he learned, the more disappointed he got. How he feels like his mind is an isolation cell he desperately wants to escape. To see what more there is. it suddenly all made sense. And walking thou it a second time with a new view inspired me.

The KAdEStudio

In the studio you can make your own art. The activities you can do here are connected to the art exposition, so it also changes. This time, you could draw your own character/mannequin with crayons and markers. Next to that, you could make clay faces, or I guess clay anything. After you finished with it, there was a display where you can put it. And write your name and age. It was fun to see the different artworks from the ‘’normal people’’ and to see all different ages on this display, from 4 to 80! Sadly, they only had 2 tables to make the clay on, and there were already people sitting there. So I didn't make them. 

TLDR +I would recommend it for Artists and Art students since it's usually not the ‘’mainstream’’ art. + Fun art activities, matching the theme + changing expos making it re-visitable.

- wouldn't recommend it for kids, maybe with a more kid-friendly expo.  - small, Even tho I take my sweet time looking at the art, watching the whole interview, playing at the studio and even looking at the fun things in the gift shop. I was standing outside again in an hour.

Would I pay the price: No, it was too short/small in my opinion Would I revisit it: yes, since the expositions keep changing every so months.

Who do I recommend it to: Artists, Modern Art fans, Art Students of any field. Interactive:         2 Educational: 2 Storytelling: 4 Price: 2 Memorable: 5 Total score: 3

[midnight-vixn]

You think any of the Obey Me bros are into exhibition? More specifically, do you think any of them like to freeball it around HoL so MC can see the outline of what they're working with? Or wearing shorts that are just a bit too short so they're practically flashing MC whenever they sit down. Or maybe they just got out if the shower after they invited MC over and whoops, the towel fell~

Fndndnnd I just can't get enough of thinking about the demon bros just casually showing themselves off to MC, trying to rile the human up so they can finally make a move.

I sure freakin do!!! These boys are such show offs, they wanna get in your pants so bad but they’re not sure how…might as well show you what’s in their pants!

Mammon had a habit of sleeping naked before you showed up and was occasionally caught wandering to the kitchen in the middle of the night because why tf would anyone else be up? Lucifer scares him in to changing that habit but barely, now he sleeps in satin boxers or black sweatpants with nothing underneath. Early one morning he ventured into the kitchen, shirtless and his sweatpants riding dangerously low on his hips, his white happy trail peaking out against his abs. He was still in a haze and not fully awake but he definitely caught you staring at his dick while he walked by, pretending to listen to one of his brothers talk but your eyes watching the way his dick moved against his thigh, noticing how you bit your lip just slightly. He’s also been known to be in his boxers when you come over in the evenings and good lord you can see it all when he manspreads, he of course pretends not to notice you glancing down occasionally to get a glimpse of his package. He twitches slightly and knows you saw because your whole body went stiff immediately after.

Beelzebub is so so oblivious to the death grip he has on you. Another one who will lounge around in a tank and sweats like it’s no big deal, all the while you can see the outline of his fat cock resting against his massive thigh. Wouldn’t be a problem if you could stare from a safe distance but Beel is a cuddle bug and likes to have his human close to him, so now you’re trapped next to him, one massive arm over your shoulders while you try to focus on the tv and not that fucking anaconda hiding in his sweats. You fail miserably but that’s fine he doesn’t notice anyway, just be careful how far your mind wanders though, Beel has an excellent sense of smell especially when it comes to your excitement.

Asmodeus is the queen of thirst traps so of course he takes any chance he can get to rile you up. Wearing cute short shorts that accentuate his ass and bulge, wearing beautiful lace thongs that show just above his shorts, sweatpants aren’t his style but if you stop by his room in the evening you’re bound to catch him wearing very sheer underwear that give you a full view of everything. He knows when he’s got you worked up thanks to his pact, that only spurs him on and makes him sink his fangs in deeper. If he catches you staring too long he’ll take charge and pull you into his room, whether you let him show you a good time or just let him tease you for a bit is entirely up to you, just make sure to compliment his lingerie~

Lucifer gave you a near heart attack the one time you walked in on him post shower. Hair still wet and hanging in his face, water droplets cascading down his chest and stomach, and towel hung low on his hips. You squeaked in fear and embarrassment, you knew better than to enter without knocking but you’re really glad you didn’t, maybe your sudden squeal is what startled him but nonetheless his towel quickly dropped to the floor giving you a full frontal view. You were left speechless with legs weak and shaking, now you knew why he was the pride of the celestial realm because good lord was he big. You tried to run or look away but your mind only flooded with the most unholy thoughts, Lucifer must of picked up on that because he very quickly had you pressed against the wall with his lips on your neck.

[painforcain]

In a brief fifteen minutes, Cain had bled the rest of the journalists dry, and made one of them his thrall to follow him with one of the cameras as he walked down the corridor. Of course, guards, police, commando flooded the facility with the order to shoot him on sight, but they were truly no match for the ancient. Heads rolled while no bullet could hit his body.

As he walked, he got a headset from one of the bodies. He paired it with his phone and called his Inner Circle. Those he'd kept close to his heart. Those who'd follow him to Hell and back and to Hell again. Those he trusted with every bit of information, those who guarded his Institutes across the globe.

"I want all of you to rise when dusk falls", he told them, "the time has come to take power!"

And hundreds of voices responded in his ear:

"Yes, Cain!"

"I want all of you to take power in your countries, I want you to burn down the churches, I want you to bleed priests out and feed on nuns! I want you to gather the humans and strike fear into their hearts, but follow my general rules on killing: no pregnant woman nor children can suffer any harm. We'll need them."

"Yes, Cain!"

"Love", a voice added, and when Cain did not reply, he continued: "I've been waiting for this day for hundreds of years, and I'm so glad it's finally happening!"

"I'm glad too", Cain murmured with a half smile as he slowly started to unbutton his suit, then his shirt. "I should've done this centuries ago, as you've all always told me; but the wait is over, my darlings. Feed!"

"Yes, Cain!"

As hundreds hang up and started to make plans for taking over hundreds of cities, Camille was having a nervous breakdown. James and she went to the nearest Institute as fast as they could and sound the alarms at once. She called Raven - of course, he was useless as always -, and they remained online to see the chaos Cain was causing. At the moment, he was walking out from the news conference room and relieved himself of his suit and shirt, continuing his way half naked, the camera showing his toned, beautiful, pale back.

"We need to follow protocol", Camille murmured and James frowned as he looked at her.

"Protocol?"

"We have a plan in case he goes berserk", she stared at the screens, her eyes determined. "We can't allow him to change the order of the world. That'd be too drastic, we're not ready yet."

"I think you know too little about Cain to determine that", James replied, completely amused.

"I know enough about him!" Camille yelled and half turned to look James in the eyes. "If he loses his mind, it'll be the end of us all!"

"If he loses his mind", James tilted his head, "let him. We'll never see what he really is capable of otherwise, right?"

"Is this why are you here?!" Camille now turned to stare at him in the face, and James was just politely grinning at her. She never looked so angry. "To test him?! To assess his weaknesses?!"

"More or less", James half nodded and half shook his head. "The Lightbringer requires him to rule over the Earth for him. This would've happened sooner or later. Your comfortable way of life was temporary; once Earth falls, Heaven is next."

"He's not your pawn in your game!" Camille screamed and lurched forward to jump at James's neck, but he caught her mid-air with an arm that extended from his back as his eyes turned black and his lips stretched into a menacing smile.

"You're right", he replied in a much deeper voice, "he's not a pawn. He's the King of the Damned."

~*~

"At least make it a challenge for me!"

His yell echoed in the hall where special forces were waiting for him. The soldiers shot at him without wasting another second; hundreds of bullets hitting everything but him as he faced them. Once they ran out of ammo, Cain half smiled.

"My turn."

He stretched his arms out to the soldiers and slowly raised them; and as he was doing that, the men also ascended from the ground. When Cain forcefully shut his hands into fists, each and every skull was crashed. The ancient hummed. He felt that his nose started to bleed. That was when he received the texts. With a gentle smile, he continued walking.

[Text] You're always safe, no matter where you are.

I miss you, he wanted to write. I know you see I'm turning the world inside out for you. Is it good enough for you? Did I manage to escape from myself? Do I still look miserable to you?

Then, he decided to write a message anyway.

[Text] Have fun. This is all for you.

"I know they're about to host a party for my birthday", mumbled Cain as he was beating another stage of the match three game on his phone as he was hanging upside down from the ceiling. "I want you to sabotage it." || @painforcain

"Your... Birthday?" Raven repeated, getting the eyes away from his Alice in Wonderland book.

His eyes darted around the room several times without seeing anything, a very puzzled expression on his face. Nonetheless, every thought disappeared as soon as he laid his eyes on Cain: stupid of him to still wonder about a being who was literally defying the basical rules of gravity right now.

"So, you're an Aquarius, I'm a Libra. There's affinity." he simply commented with a grin, deciding not to ask any further questions, which were more about the date Cain had picked than about the reasons why he wanted Raven to sabotage it.

"Let's see..." he mumbled. "Can you get your hundreds bodyguards out of our ways for a few hours? Just the time we need to board my jet... There are a few islands in the Pacific Oceans with literally one single cabin on them." He got out of Cain's bed to look at him. He tilted his head to reach the cealing: no lies, Raven would have loved to sit like that at least once, no matter how uncomfortable it looked.

"I know, I know... You are probably imagining indoor explosions, fire, chaos, Hell on Earth..." he continued. "But... If it could be something that won't get me another step closer to be mysteriously murdered for natural causes by your Inner Council..."

He took a break, imagining them on a tropical island. Silence, alcohol, weed and some bags of blood. Alone, truly alone for the first time ever.

"I'd love that."

[stranger-nightmare]

𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐲

Pairing: Eddie Munson x (afab) Reader

Summary: your first time pegging Eddie, and you provide him with plenty of praise

Warnings: kinda fluffy, smut, tiniest bit of thigh fucking, strap-on, pegging, anal (m receiving), masturbation (m receiving), sub!Eddie, soft dom!Reader, praise kink, minors DNI

A/N: this thot has been stuck inside my head for a while so I finally just decided to actually write something on it, I hope you all enjoy! <33

This is for people 18+ only. Minors do not read on. By clicking ‘keep reading’ you are hereby agreeing that you are 18 or older.

“You definitely sure about this?” You ask gently, cupping Eddie’s cheek with your palm.

He looks up at you with those big, gorgeous, ridiculously large eyes of his. His gaze is wide and soft, just like a puppy. He nods at you, a look of pleading behind his stare. You smile at him before you lean down to kiss him. The kiss is deep and slow, soft and intimate. You open up his mouth with your own, your tongue sliding over his and dominating it. You grind into his lap, feeling him grow hard quickly.

You knew he’d been horny all day, and he’d been wanting to try this for ages, so it didn’t surprise you just how quickly he got turned on this time. He whines into your mouth, a high soft sound as you grind against him even harder, letting him get just a little friction against where he was now aching to be touched. You kiss him for a short while longer before you finally pull back.

“Strip,” you command him softly.

His eyes widen again. There’s a mixture of fear, apprehension, but also excitement in his gaze. He nods, moving to stand up once you’d removed yourself from his lap. He strips quickly, tossing his shirt and jeans aside before shimmying out of his boxers. You can help but bite your lip lightly as you take in the glorious sight of his naked body.

“Mmmm, such a pretty boy,” you groan as you go to stand in front of him, pulling him down by the neck to kiss you again.

He moans into the kiss, his hands grabbing at your waist frantically. You feel his cock press between your legs, slipping between your thighs. A smug smirk toys with your lips when you feel his hips start to buck lightly. You could tell he was weakly trying to restrain himself but he just couldn’t help it, he was so needy he had resorted to trying to fuck your thighs in a desperate attempt to get some relief. You let out a breathy giggle into the kiss as you clench your thighs together gently, squeezing Eddie’s cock between them. The sound he makes is sinful, a soft and high pitched mixture between a gasp and a moan.

“Don’t worry babyboy, I’m gonna take good care of you. I promise,” you whisper against his lips.

You pull on his hair slightly, stopping the kiss so you could look at him.

“Lie down for me baby. On your stomach,” your voice is soft but firm, gentle but leaving no room for argument.

He quickly obeys your instruction, climbing onto the bed and lying on his stomach, his hips angled slightly to the side to accommodate his hardened cock.

“Good boy,” you hum and you hear the softest of moans leave Eddie, his hips rutting lightly against the bed.

You see Eddie twist his head to look at you as you quickly rid yourself of your own clothes. You grab the strap harness and swiftly fasten it around you. You attached the slimmest dildo you had, not wanting to push Eddie too far for his first time. You hear another groan from Eddie as he takes in the sight of you. Your chest bare, your gorgeous tits hanging free, adorned only in the black strap harness with the pretty slim black cock attached to it. Eddie whimpers, his eyes widening as his gaze hones in on your strap. His bottom lip trembles where he tugs it between his teeth.

“You okay babyboy?” You coo lightly.

“Y-yeah... it’s just....” he swallows thickly, his voice shaky. “It- it’s hot. You’re hot,” he confesses breathlessly.

A smile stretches your lips as you slowly climb onto the bed, hovering yourself above Eddie’s waiting body. You lean your face down at the same time Eddie turns his further upwards to meet you in another gentle kiss. You kiss him softly for a few moments, feeling the urgency in his lips, in how he bucked his hips, pushing his ass up against your cock.

“You gonna be good for me, hmm?” You sigh against his lips. “Take my cock like a good boy?”

Eddie whines and nods fervently, pushing his ass even harder against your strap, emphasising his point. You hum your satisfaction, giving him a final lingering kiss before you're pulling away, sitting up on your heels. You reach to the nightstand, grabbing the bottle of lube, and slathering it across your dominant hand. You return the bottle to nightstand before spreading the lube all across your strap-on, pumping it a few times to ensure it was fully coated. Eddie watches you intently the whole time, soft excited gasps escaping his parted lips.

You take your hand and the remainder of lube and slowly start to run it between his cheeks, your index finger swirling around his puckered hole, spreading the lube around. Eddie practically shivers, more of those sweet soft sighs leaving his throat.

“Good boy,” you hum softly under your breath. “You tell me if it gets to be too much or you want to stop, okay?” You check in with him again.

He nods quickly.

“Use your words baby. I wanna make sure you’re good with this.”

“Yes. Fuck, yes. Please. Please baby I want you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me,” he rambles almost incoherently, his words nearly tripping over each other, muffled as he buries his face into the sheets beneath him.

“Good boy,” you affirm again.

You swirl your index finger around his a hole a few more times before you finally, slowly, push it inside him. He clenches around you, his body going tight, a loud groan emanating from his chest. You shhh him gently, making soft hushing sounds as you gradually sink your finger in to the knuckle.

“That’s it,” you praise him quietly as you slowly begin a pumping motion with your finger.

Eddie whines softly, his body slowly starting to relax a bit more as he gets used to the sensation. After a while of fingering him with just the one finger you eventually bring your middle finger into the mix, gently stretching him out a bit more.

“F-fuck,” Eddie chokes out at the new sensation, his fists balling into the sheets on either side of him.

You push your finger to the knuckle slowly, gently scissoring them open the slightest bit, stretching him open soflty. Your dildo was slim but it was still definitely going to stretch his tight and unused hole so you wanted to get him as prepped as possible.

“That’s it baby, you can take it. You’re doing so well,” you coo gently, letting your other hand massage his ass cheeks softly.

Eddie’s breathing is rapid, the muscles of his back taut and pulled tight, a mixture of pleasure and dull pain rippling through his body. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t fucking love the feeling, the fine balance between the sore and the euphoric bliss. You keep pumping him until you feel his body start to relax, giving himself over to the pleasure.

You lean forwards, hovering over his back. You kiss your way up his back, over his shoulder, until you find his neck. You nip and bite him softly, all the while still gently pumping him with your fingers. You can’t help but smile to yourself when you get closer to his face, a whole new litany of noises flying from Eddie’s lips that you couldn’t hear from further away. The tiniest of whimpers and gasps, choked moans lodged in his throat. Such sweet, pretty, soft noises. So intimate and vulnerable. It made your heart flutter and your pussy clench.

“You think you're ready for my cock now, babyboy?” You hum, tugging his earlobe between your teeth.

Another whimper, another tremble through his body.

“Yes,” he whispers almost inaudibly. “Please. Please.”

You kiss his cheek softly before you sit back up. You gently pull your fingers free from between his cheeks. You climb over his body again, this time making sure that you could angle your hips properly to line up your strap with his ass. You hold your cock in your hand, pushing the head between his cheeks, gently nudging his tight hole.

“You ready?” You ask, checking in one finally time.

“Please,” is all he responds.

You rub his lower back reassuringly as you finally push your cock inside him, stretching his hole with just the tip.

“O-oh fuck. Shit,” Eddie grits out through clenched teeth.

You give him a moment to get used to it before you push a bit further forward, seating yourself about half way inside him.

“Ah, fuck,” he lets out a trembling breath, his voice wavering.

“You okay? Does it hurt baby?” You ask, slightly concerned.

Eddie pants raggedly.

“A lil,” he confesses. “But m-mostly...” he breaks off with another trembling whimper as you push a tiny bit deeper inside him.

“Mostly it feels good?” You finish for him.

He nods.

“Yeah?” You prompt him for a verbal response.

“Y-yes. So good,” he groans breathlessly.

“Good,” you hum. “Remember, you tell me if you need to stop yeah?”

“No, just... just keep going. Please. Please don’t stop,” he begs quietly.

You smile to yourself and slowly start to pull back out, setting an incredibly slow pace of thrusting in and out go him, letting him adjust to the size, get used to the feeling of being stretched open.

“Hmm, you’re doing so well baby. Taking my cock like such a good boy. I’m gonna take care of you, don’t worry,” you breathe gently, dipping your head to place soft kisses across his back.

You can feel his body trembling underneath you, your chest against his back. His skin burning and flushed on your lips, his muscles tense. He whimpers again, almost sounding like he was close to tears.

“Shhh, just relax for me, Eddie. I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” you murmur against his skin.

You feel him slowly start to relax, his body going slightly more limp where he lay beneath you.

“There you go,” you praise him gently, “that’s it.”

You steadily start to move your hips again, picking up a slightly faster pace. You put your focus into thrusting long and deep rather than too fast and brutal. The sounds Eddie makes every time you hit that spot deep inside of him are somehow angelic in their sinfulness. You think you’d never tire of hearing those sounds. You think you could fuck this boy forever if it meant you got hear those soft whimpers and gasps over and over again.

Eddie’s groans get louder and more frequent as you start to increase your pace a little more, thrusting into him a bit harder. You grip onto his shoulder for leverage, your nails digging into his skin. Eddie lets out muffled whimpers and whines, his face buried into the mattress. One of his hands reaches behind him, seeking out your thigh where it was hooked around his hip. His fingers dig into your flesh, gripping you almost painfully hard. You catch a glimpse of his other hand, which is still fisting the sheets just as hard.

“A-ah fuck,” he mumbles into the sheets. “Shit baby, feels so fuckin’ good. S-so good,” his voice is strained and taut with pleasure.

“Yeah? You like this? You like having me fuck you? Fuck you like my good little boy, hmm?” You tease.

He chokes out another pathetic whimper, his lips mouthing the word ‘yes’ but unable to actually sound his response as he becomes overwhelmed with pleasure.

You smirk before grabbing his hips roughly, adjusting to pull his ass up in the air, lifting his hips off the bed. Eddie moans almost embarrassingly loud at the new position, his face still pressed to the mattress as you fuck his ass, now fully spread and on display in front of you. You keep hold of his hips, helping fuck him back onto your strap. You can feel how weak Eddie’s limbs are as he’s barley able to keep himself on his knees as you thrust into him over and over again.

When you reach around and grab his painfully hard cock in one of your hands he damn near keels over completely. You swipe your thumb over his leaking slit, gathering the pre-cum, mixing it with the remnants of lube you still had on your hand, before you start to slide your hand up and down his dick, twisting lightly as you went.

“Fuck, fuck... I- it- it’s too much,” Eddie chokes out with a whine, his hips jerking against your touch as you stroke him.

“It’s okay, you can take it. You can take it,” you coo softly, slowing both your hands and your hips slightly.

He whimpers again, his hips thrusting into your hand pathetically. His whines heighten in pitch and you can tell he’s finally close.

“That’s it. Cum for me baby. You can do it, cum for me,” you moan, squeezing and twisting his cock a little tighter as you thrust intentionally deep, hitting that special spot inside him.

“Sh-shit shit. Oh fuck,” Eddie whimpers pathetically as his orgasm hits him like a freight train.

His whole body convulses, twitching and arching with each spurt of cum that pumps out of him. Whispered profanities and whines continue to fly from his lips as you milk him for all he was worth, keeping your strap pushed deep inside him, your hand still stroking him slowly. You only stop when his body starts to jerk and buck away from your touch, the overstimulation getting to him. You remove your hand from his dick and he practically collapses into the mattress, too fucked out to care that he was lying in a mess of his own cum.

“Yeah, that’s it baby. Oh you did so good for me,” your praise him, giving him a gentle pat on the ass. “Such a good boy for me.”

You then palm his ass cheek as you slowly and gently pull out of him. He hisses lightly at the feeling, his tight hole clenching over nothing as he lies limply on the bed. His body was weak and shaking slightly, his back rising and falling heavily with his rapid breathing. You quickly undo your harness and toss it aside, leaving you naked as you kneeled behind Eddie.

You let out a light giggle as you look at him, a complete wreck on the bed in front of you. You move to lie on top of him gently, kissing all over his back and shoulder blades, whispering more soft praises about he good he’d been for you. You keep your lips travelling over his slightly sweaty skin, your one hand gently scratching up and down his side reassuringly whilst the other hooked over his shoulder to hug him tightly. You stay like this for a while, letting him come down and recover. You place a final kiss between his shoulder blades before you speak again.

“How was that?” You ask quietly. “Did you like it?”

Eddie lets out a breathy laugh.

“Hell yeah. That was fucking amazing,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his sweaty forehead.

He twists under you, rolling over slightly until he faces you. Your hips were next to his but you shifted so your torso was on top of his, your elbow resting on his chest as you propped up your head.

“You’re fucking amazing,” he tells you earnestly, reaching up to stroke your cheek with his fingers.

You smile softly at the tremble that still lingered in his limbs. You bring up one of your hands to cup his cheek in return, tracing your fingertips across his skin.

“And you’re my good boy,” you smirk.

Masterlist

A/N: this ended up being a bit softer than I initially set it out to be but ngl I kinda like it anyway! I hope you guys liked it too &lt;;33

Taglist // Join My Nightmare Realm // ko-fi

[booppooo]

ellie x fem reader fear pong/strip poker 😎 modern college au frat party w ellie and some other side characters 🤔

Strip It Down

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader One-Shot

AN: y’all make me want to go to a party with Ellie 😭

Warnings: unestablished relationship, partial nudity, party, drinking, thigh riding, swearing

(Comment credits!)

-

You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her.

Half a game of strip cup pong in and you were shirtless and missing your shoes. Ellie was down to her sports bra and boxers, Dina pants-less and Jessie down to his boxers.

It brought you some comfort to know that you had found a private room to enjoy this game, but the thought of someone barging in at any second with their phone out left you on edge. Not to mention your massive crush on Ellie. If you could freeze time you would definitely stand and stare at her toned arms and the faint outline of her abs.

Turns out you didn’t have to pause time, because she caught you staring and daydreaming anyway. At first she just smirked at you, admiring you back and feeling flattered. Then she took the opportunity to tease you while Dina and Jessie took their turn.

“Like what you see pretty girl?” She whispered in your ear.

Somehow Dina and Jessie didn’t notice how hot your face got, but Ellie certainly did, chuckling at you as she pulled away from your face. You felt frozen, your feet cemented to the floor and the world around you going fuzzy.

“Wh-what no?!” You got defensive and shy.

She sneakily slid her hand onto your lower back and stepped closer, making you that much more aware of your circumstances.

Leaning down she purred in your ear again, “Don’t act like you were checking me out. If you want to get out of here just say that babe.”

“Hey! You two are up.” Dina called. Neither her nor Jessie has succumbed to anymore stripping.

As Ellie stepped up to the table she made sure to let her hand fall to your ass and gently squeeze, causing you to bite your lip to smother your gasp. Expertly she began tossing the ping pong balls, flashing a quick glance at you almost every time and wetting her lips. You didn’t expect her to get so flirty with you, but you weren’t complaining either.

It was your turn. Nervously you met Ellie at the table and took the light orange ball into your hand, focusing on the red cups across the table before flinging the ball. Much to your demise it bounced off the rim and everyone began mocking you making your face turn crimson.

Ellie tugged at the waistband of bottoms, “Time for these to go!”

All eyes were on you and made you feel especially nervous, Ellie eyeing you more than anyone. She pinched her bottom lip between her teeth and watched you through her bottom lashes as you shimmied your bottoms down your legs and tossed them across the room to expose the matching panties to your bra.

“Pink looks good on you,” the redhead winked before prompting your other friends to carry on the game.

Suddenly you heard the sound of sirens and people hollering. All of you exchanged a look of urgency before your fight or flight kicked in. You felt Ellie snatch up your wrist and run for the window, but you dug your heels into the carpet before you two could make the leap.

“No way!” you protested, “I’m not letting everyone see me run around half naked!”

Ellie scoffed, “You got a better plan?”

You glanced over your shoulder to see that the door to the room was open meaning that Dina and Jessie had made their escape. Without a word you locked your hand with Ellie’s and ran to the master bedroom, tucking you both deep into closet. After you both were settled behind a thick layer of dresses you noticed each other’s hurried breathing. Downstairs you could hear all the commotion of the police trying to smoke everyone out of the house, managing to get ahold of a few people.

“Y/n we can’t just sit here with our asses hanging out….literally.”

You couldn’t help but snort, “Ellie I already told you I’m not running, they won’t come up here, and if they do they’re not going to start sifting through all these clothes.”

She sighed and you could barely make out her frame slouching against the wall. Even a few seconds of silence was too much for her to handle.

“You know what would make this less shitty?” She whispered, your response a low hum, “If we made out.”

You choked on your spit, “Ellie!”

She rolled her eyes and groaned, “Oh give it up Y/n, I know that’s what you’ve been dying to do all night. I promise I don’t bite…unless you want me to.”

Playfully you shoved her shoulder, but what took you by surprise was how she grasped your hand before you pulled away and scooted closer to you. Before you saw her you could smell the beer on her lips and the faint scent of her musk, then you made out her enticing features. This was the closest you had been all night and you weren’t complaining, but you’d be a clown if you tried to admit you were level headed. She made butterflies of excitement and nervousness flourish in the pit of your stomach and run through your veins - something about her was so magnetic but also made you want to run as far as you could away from her.

Inching closer she managed to whisper one more thing, “You’re so pretty Y/n, let me kiss you.”

She must’ve had something laced in her voice because you were instantly addicted. That very next second you were cupping her face and smushing your lips onto her’s in a frenzy. You wanted to kiss her all over and absorb as much as you could of her.

In a fight for dominance you won, getting her shoulders pinned to the carpet and straddling her waist. As an added bonus you managed to maneuver yourself so your knee pressed against her groin. Your hands began to explore her body while your tongue pushed past her lips, her large hands falling to your hips and at times groping your ass hard. Every time you got a handful of her perky tit you made a point to press your knee harder onto her core to feel her gasp against your lips.

You strayed away from her lips and down her neck, making sure to decorate her skin as you traveled down. “Tell me what you want Ellie.” You breathed against her skin.

Forcibly she gripped your hair, making you whine, but you didn’t pull your lips off of her collarbone. She ground herself against your thigh and groaned, “Let me ride your pretty thigh…shit.”

Her wish was your command. You flipped her over and perched her on your propped knee, hands on her strong, lean hips. She reached down and massaged your tits through your shirt, rocking her hips forward in the process and biting back a moan.

“Holy fuck…” you whispered to yourself, finding yourself in a trance. The sight before you was just incredible. If anything was sexy, this was it.

Growing greedy you urged her to pick up her pace by guiding her with your hands, continuing to press your muscle against her boxers in the process. She threw her head back and grumbled, “Fuck,” leaving your mind spinning. (smexy edit to better your imagination)

“Yeah that’s it.” You spoke lustfully, brain completely fogged over with Ellie and her intoxicating presence.

So fogged over in fact you didn’t hear the closet door open or the light streaming in across Ellie’s freckles. She continued to grind against your leg and pinch at your nipples, your own fingers slithering up her chest to explore beneath her bra.

Ellie groaned again, “Fuck that feels so good.”

“Ellie?”

Both of you froze. It was like the volcano in Pompeii erupted and encased you and Ellie where you were: your hands on her tits and hip, her on top of your thigh and both of you staring at each other in terror.

“Ellie I just heard you I know you’re in here.”

Goddamnit Jessie.

The freckled girl swallowed thickly and continued to watch you in a frightful daze, “Uh, yeah I’m back here. Is everything okay out there?”

Jessie started laughing, “Yes, everyone went home for the most part. Dina said if you wanted a ride back to come now. You too Y/n - I like your socks.”

Fuck.

[eremiie]

how would aot characters (or just eren, whatever works for you) react to their s/o doing this

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeFGqABj/

you walking into the shower fully clothed;

❥ video context is that you walk into the shower fully clothed while they’re taking one and just begin talking to them

eren is concerned, a little embarassed but mostly concerned and questioning you. and then he tells you that if you wanted to take a shower with him you should take off your clothes. it doesn’t cross his mind that it’s a joke or anything at first. proceeds to help you take off your clothes bc he actually wants you to shower with him now.

levi looks at you like you’re a fucking idiot and coaxes you out the shower. he later asks you what was going through your head when you got in with him. except the next day he’s like “i’m about to get in the shower. if you want to take a proper one with me then hurry up.” cue an evil smile from you.

jean is also immediately concerned and very flustered. he pushes you out the shower gently and talks to you through the shower curtain, asking what’s going on, and if you want to take a shower then you can, but just not with your clothes! he brings it up again later because it lingered on his mind lmaoo.

connie doesn’t really question you and carries a normal conversation with you. lord help you and this boy. asks what you need and maybe in the middle of the night he’ll randomly; “hey, ______. you know you’re not supposed to shower with clothes right?” and don’t even respond to that. you can’t even tell who’s the idiot now.

armin is probably too concerned, first thing that comes to mind is you might make yourself sick or something— proceeds to turn off the shower water and stand there with you questioning exactly why you thought that was a good idea?? tells you to take off your clothes if you want to shower too, or take off your clothes and go change. if it’s the second option he hurries up his shower to check up on you and help you out. he also continues to question you.

reiner tied with armin is very concerned, and panics for a good 10 seconds, he asks you if you’re okay and if you need something and rushes his shower to get both of you out of there as fast as possible. also very flustered because even though you’re his s/o he can’t help but realize he’s butt ass naked in front of you😔. he will dry you off and everything, and get you changed out.

porco almost hits you because you scared the fuck out of him first of all, then he briefly apologizes, but then proceeds to insult you in the most loving way because he thinks what you’re doing is really dumb and thinks you need to get out the shower right away. deep down he is rushing his shower so y’all can both get out and he can scold you for doing something so idiotic in his eyes, and proceeds to dry you off and get you cleaned up because he’s cute like that. he wraps you up in a blanket too sob sob.

colt panics the most and gets really flustered, he tells you to pleeaseee get out and then peeks his head out the shower curtain to talk to you and ask if you’re okay. you’re really worrying him he’s on the verge of a heart attack! he finishes up his shower then actively checks up on you every 3 seconds to make sure you’re okay and.... right in the head!

zeke continues to wash up and asks what’s up. that’s literally it. is he wondering why you chose to get in with him? yes. will he question you? no. he’s probably done weirder.

sasha asks you what’s up too, she really could care less. might even wash you with your clothes on. you can’t tell if she’s joking or not...

mikasa is very concerned and starts blushing cause ??? she will pull you out the shower, have you stand there until she’s done, then come and dry you off and stuff. she asks you why you thought that was a good idea and tells you not to do that again🧍🏾‍♀️

historia is questioning you but not questioning you too much in fear of your answer. she asks if you’re okay then tells you to go get yourself cleaned up and that was not a smart choice. asks if you need anything when she gets out.

hange finds this a fun activity and lets you stay in there with her. next time you shower she’s in there with you with her clothes on too. although she doesn’t really find the appeal she has fun! you guys dry up together then go make something to eat or watch some tv. this is almost a normal thing to happen with hange.

pieck asks if you’re okay but tells you you can stay in if you want, she’ll just be a minute. when you get out with her she finally asks you why you did that but she’s not judging at all.

yelena stares at you, not necessarily like your crazy but she’s just questioning your existence and motive she’ll either tell you to get out or not ask any questions and let you stay in. its 50/50, almost like russian roulette. what will you get this time?

[semischarmed]

Inside

“Let me ask again- the FUCK do you think you’re doing!?”

I tremble in fear and stare in silence at the massive man in front of me, rank with the sweat of his daily session.

In my hands lay his used gym clothes, inches from my nose. My eyes widen. He was supposed to be showering. My eyes are drawn to the bar of soap among the pile in front of me. Shit. 

Fear becomes arousal when he leans down to my ear, tantalizingly close, and whispers. “If you wanted me inside you so bad, all you had to fucking do was assssk”. He draws that last word out with his teeth, lacing it with venom and seduction.

“Cmon, fucking say it faggot. Say you want me inside you” he taunts.

Ashamed. Terrified. Spellbound. He had reduced me to my most minuscule self. I reply meekly to answer him. “...I want you inside me.”

I hear the corners of his face widen into an unsettling smirk. “Good Answer”.

In the blink of an eye, he vanishes from in front of me, rushing past my side to my back before I can even react. Oh shit this is really happening. I am prepared for the night of my life. “Strip.” I comply.  I hear him make some movements and then... then... silence.

“What the hell?” I chuckle nervously as I look behind me in confusion and see his naked form crouching in a low squat with his hands clasped in a praying motion. I admire his massive sweaty muscles. He catches my gaze, looking up and giving me wink. I smile back awkwardly. “So-“

I am cut off by searing, unimaginable pain from the motion of him piercing my ass with his hands as he lunges toward me. Pound after pound of his thick arms shove up my asshole with so much force, he pushes me forward several feet. I stay still, breathing heavy for a few moments- not daring to look back- not daring to move an inch out of our precarious position. My mind races. “Shit. Shit. Shit. What was that!? God, was he ok?”

I finally muster the courage to look behind in horror. I could only see his shoulders. Shit. How is this even possible? God. Shit. I couldn’t see his head…he was probably dead- and judging by how far he pushed into me, I probably would be soon too. I whimper, tears streaming down my face, as recount my life and start fumbling for my phone. I felt sick to my stomach. How could this go so wrong? Every fucking time something good happens. Well… at least if I’m going out, I’m- My stomach churns. Wait. That... wasn’t my stomach. 

Impossibly, I felt worms squiggle inside me- no they weren’t worms. I dial in on the sensation. They were fingers. His Fingers. He was moving his fingers. I feel them claw at my throat from the inside. My mouth opens uncontrollably as his digging hands choke me from the inside, scrambling for a grip. I reach up trying in vain to get him to stop. Shit Shit Shit. As my consciousness begins to dip, the hands have finally found a patch of my flesh around my shoulder. I pant in momentary relief.

With each patch of my flesh they touch, I feel our nerves intertwine, tangling into each other until I myself could feel his fingers as a supplement to my own. What the hell was going on? Then, I feel him wrap his arms around more of my flesh and bundle more of our nerves together. Whatever this was, whatever he was doing, it was intentional.

He uses his arms as leverage and pulls the rest of his sweat-slick body inside, almost forcing my own to the ground. I fill up. Near-bursting. Impossibly full. As I stagger to stand, I watch from the mirror as he shimmies more and more of himself into me. I retch unprompted, dry heaving at what was occurring before my very eyes, but the motion only seemed to suck in his fleshy mass further inside me. Still, I couldn’t help but begin to get hard. Him being in here was hot as hell.  

I take shorter and shorter breaths, which again only slides more and more of him inside me, until the very last parts of him- his grimy toes- get slurped up in my asshole. My body wants to collapse from the strain of having to stretch to accommodate both our forms. Instead, I watch as his body is imprinted in my skin -near my stomach and chest, pulling me impossibly tight while he cemented himself in a fetal position. My legs begin to buckle from the pressure. 

Before I fall, he stretches out his legs out inside my skin, stacking his over my own. They are sticky when they slide over my bones and musculature, likely from the sweat he was aiming to wash off with his shower. As he fills into my skin, my toes are lifted off the ground as my body rises to accommodate his far-larger form. My very own body betrays its owner, as it is drawn to his legs over my own and he hastens the process by corralling my skin to realign to match his legs instead. I can only watch and feel in silence as I feel the skin covering my toes detach from myself and overlap over his. I feel pricks as our nerves entangle together. His legs then digests mine, inflating themselves from my added mass. My skin constricts in turn around his legs, crushing them from all sides. From the depths of my body, a moan in his voice escapes my still-hanging mouth. Skin constricts even tighter and I wince in anticipation from the pain. Instead, I am met with pleasure as nerves fire and I reconnect to my new legs. Oh my god. This was everything… I’ve never been this tall nor my legs this muscular. 

I wait in anticipation of his next move. His arms unfurl from their place, and I watch them slip over my shoulders. I look hungrily at my soon-to-be biceps. Yummy. This time, I put no resistance, as readily I allow his pythons to coil around my two stick-appendages. I give these arms of mine to him willingly, which he happily assimilates. Then, a massive tension in the skin of my arms, as they are forced to spread out, rocketed outwards from the mass of his flesh filling into them. By all accounts, it was uncomfortable, but knowing what was soon to come had overwritten any fear, any doubt, any discomfort I could ever have with lust. My arms were never buff, so watching him rearrange his arms to become mine makes me go lightheaded with an abundance of elation and desire. As his nerves join with mine, and I finally feel the strength inherent in my new arms, my head leans back from the sheer sensation of our parts being one. He flexes our new arm together, before caressing it over the imprint of his body still in my chest and stomach. This was a dream come true. Still… more to come.

I watch expectantly as the large mass of his head begins to travel up my neck. I prepare to accept my new self. I could want nothing more than to live as this god of a man as his new flesh. Before his head can reach me, however, I watch as the remainder of his body fill into mine, including that perky ass. My arms are helpless to my whim as he commands them himself. He smears my skin around the outline of his body, slotting his abs over my flat stomach, tracing their indents as they fill over, and giving me the exact very same six-pack I had always fantasized over. He pinches my nipples- holy shit- stretching them forward, before releasing. They rebound back, slotting into their rightfully place- right over his. They’re rock hard. 

When the bare outline of his forehead head begins to peek over my neck, I feel him flex our entire body. He tenses our entire form, forcing my skin to compress even tighter around him. He continues until I feel a pop in myself. I look down and see the results. I see his wavy hairs pierce and poke through my skin. The scene was bizarre. He was literally wearing me. Though it was my normally supple skin, it was dotted by the roughness of his hairs. When our pores align, I finally release some excess heat. The scent was immaculate. I sweated his sweat, emanated his scent. By all accounts, I am his body. There would be no turning back. In the continuing process, I feel his organs and blood rush into mine. He was I and I was him. We now shared the same insides. With his blood rushing through us, I felt invigorated. Fuck. God. This was what he felt like every fucking day. I happily invite his wellspring of strength and energy as my own. This is what I am going to be feeling like every day from now on. We could do a million pushups right now without breaking a sweat. With him driving me, we would be unstoppable. My trance is broken when I noticed my dick in disappointment, unchanged from the whole process.  

I licked my lips as his head finally slotted over mine. I screamed from the pain of my face being stretched out to accommodate both of ours. He had far better control of us and instead contorted my outer face into a crooked smile. He began panting and moaning as the force of my skin stuck our heads closer and closer together. At long last, I feel sweet release when some arbitrary barrier inside me breaks and a spark lights in me as his head accelerates and smashes into mine. I welcome him inside with open ‘arms’. ‘I want you inside me.’ 

He complies, greedily overlaying his very being into me. In all my memory, in all my thoughts, feelings, perversions, there he was and there he would be. I yield them all willingly, allowing him to become me, to transcend me. Our shared eyes close from the wealth of new identity he has captured as he and I become one. We would have each other in a way no one else ever could. It was beyond intimacy. With his tongue inside mine, he sticks it out of my face with a sneer. It’s a face I never made, but with our new selves, this just felt right. He guides them over my teeth. My jaw redefines itself on his terms, nose corrects itself to his shape. Altogether, he was wearing me as his own, comfortably taking and rearranging me to be a better vessel for him. Fuck did it feel good to be his outer shell. I think we both looked better like this- greater than the sum of our parts.

Dirty, lewd thoughts mix with my own as his personality bleeds into mine. I reflexively try to shake it off, but he is relentless. In his barrage of self into me, tears well in my face. Still… he continues to inject more and more of his self into me. And then... I finally let go. This felt good. Being his. Who’s to say if it was my thoughts on their own or our combined derangement, but the thought of him forever using me, forever being me? Sheer Fucking Ecstasy. This felt great. He subjugates my sense of self to forever be a part of him but I offer it willingly. Becoming me probably shaved a few years off him. Like my skin, He stretches my personality around his, further and further until we congeal into one. Goddamn. Fuck Yeah. This is fucking great. We lick our lips.

I feel a rush of confidence. The new me is brimming with it. We are alpha. My mouth and body move in a way that was alien to myself. He stands up straighter and cracks our neck, getting comfortable in our new form. We take our first real breath together as a new person, taking in more air than my old lungs had been used to. Amazing.

Then, his hormones rush through our body. Fuck. I feel an outpouring of raw, sexual energy. Our body steams up in the heat- look at me, who wouldn’t- and, before I could react further, he starts pumping my dick in manic glee. Fuck. As it stiffens, I hit my old body’s limit. Average. Our grin widens by his command. “Time for an upgrade, baby” I say with a jock-like inflection in my voice. It sounds immediately comfortable, self-assured, and it rolls off my new tongue naturally. It feels wholly unnatural. He speaks in a lower register than I normally do. Still I yield to him, trusting in my new owner and allowing his parts to coalesce into my vocal chords. A disturbing itch runs through my throat as our voices meld together but I know it’s for the best. This newer, hotter me needs a newer, hotter voice. We take a deep breath before roaring “FUUUUUCK YEAH! Muuuuch better!” in a voice that resembled a harmonius mix both of ours. 

The itch courses through the rest of my body as I allow him to fully wear the rest of me. He brings my head to face the new me in the mirror for a closeup giving another wink. Beautiful. I watch as my eyes water uncontrollably. His amber eyes then eclipse mine, and we blink away the tears. In my head, I feel his thick, wavy hair push out beside my own, as my old hair merge into his. In its place, we now wear a crown of his hair signifying my new place as royalty. He drags my now-vascular hand across our chin, pulling slightly while a bit of scruff grows where bare skin used to be. He quickly nods our new head in approval as more of my features contort to accommodate their new owner. Yeah. We were fucking hot.

Then, I feel his thick dick slot into mine, filling it out. Jesus fucking christ it was so big. It stretches me further and further, until I am hit by another wave of paralysis, until my skin snaps back into his, constricting weapon and sheath together. The sheer pressure merges them into one. Goddamn we were huge. Our shared tongue hangs from our open mouth, as we release a massive wave of cum. It rockets everywhere, covering me in my new, alpha seed. We sample a taste of our shared genetics. Fucking delicious. 

God we were so hot together. The feeling is surreal. There was nothing like it in the world. I was forever his. I am wrack in permanent pleasure from being us. He walks over to his old pile of clothes, putting them on. As they brush over my new body, I am flush with a sense of completeness. A perfect match.

---End---

Ok, Ok, so not as ‘light’ as I would have expected. I was gonna make something cute for Valentines day, but got sidetracked by... I mean... look at him.

[spice-chan]

Legally Incapsulated

yandere!Bakugou Katsuki x darling!reader

In a different, dystopian world, yanderes are allowed to run rampant and they make up 15 percent of the population. It gets a little interesting when Bakugou, a protective yandere falls for you, a taken darling. 

warnings: dystopian society (ig?), yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, reader has a bit of an early stockholm syndrome kinda thing, blood and near death, captivity. 

also hi, i came back from the undead with an update. 

.........

Bakugou laid on the ground, bleeding profusely, cold and alone. The red liquid soaked through his clothes, painting him as an ugly manifestation of destruction and death. However, he did not welcome the latter yet, clinging to-hanging tooth and nail to the threads of life.

What cruel irony. To be dumped somewhere so public, yet at a time when no one would bother to come. To have the Hero hanging onto the hope that someone would visit the park at three in the fucking morning. 

A brutal fight between him and a particularly vicious villain ended in Katsuki suffering not only the humiliation of defeat but injuries that will do him in soon enough from blood loss. All alone, with no back-up, Katsuki suffered possibly the worst defeat of his life, for it might cost him that very same thing. Fucker attacked him after he finished his night shift too when no reporters or anyone would be around, knocking Katsuki out and dumping him in a public park just for the mockery of it. 

His head felt light and doozy, and he was starting to succumb to the feeling sucking him in when he heard a gasp amidst the fog. 

With what little stamina he has left, he turned around, sharp red eyes spotting a petite woman heading towards him. 

You quickly got to his spot beneath a tree, crouching down and inspecting him, your warm eyes becoming horrified at the blood pool. 

“Oh no, what happened here?! No matter. I’m going to call an ambulance. You’re going to be ok.” You reassured, or tried to, for the words coming out of your mouth could only be taken as self-assurance when one notices the dampness of your eyes. He tried to concentrate on what you were doing, but the next time he was aware of what was happening around him was when you clutched his hand tight with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“You’re gonna be ok.” 

He sure hopes he will be now. 

“What’s your name?” 

Despite the haze covering, his red eyes zeroed on you, calmly taking you in despite the battered state he was in. You froze. 

You stammered, heart hammering as you finally had another person's attention for once. It should’ve made you really ecstatic, but it just made you feel like you were naked on live TV. 

“It’s um-“ you nibbled on your lip as if unused to your name, Katsuki just got lost in the dainty, delicate sound of your voice. 

And when you said your name, as if testing foreign words on your tongue for the first time, he couldn’t help but think it suited you. 

So pretty. 

Honestly, if the sight of you is the only thing he’ll see before dying, he’ll be content. Your hand remained in hold his, your warmth travelling to his frigid hand and warming his very soul. 

But the sound of ambulance sirens broke him out of his trance, and you too, it seems. For you broke away from him in fright, he had to hold back from grabbing you and keeping you close. He would, had he not been injured. 

“Whe-where are you going?” He asked brokenly, desperate to keep the angel that saved him close. You shook your head, frightened and frantic. Looking at the time, and seemingly getting further and further. 

“I’m sorry-I—I’ve got to go. I’m gonna late, I’ll get punished if I’m late.” 

His heart sunk with every syllable you uttered, feeling a pain he had never felt before, something not tangible enough to be compared to injuries and not comprehensible enough for a man like Katsuki to express. 

You’re a darling. 

You’re someone’s darling.

By the time the ambulance rolled in and took him, you were long gone…

But not for long. 

……………...

Katsuki Bakugo: Yandere. 

Classification: Protective

Darling: Unregistered 

In a world where yanderes are allowed to go rampant with their love, an ordinary citizen doesn’t know when they’ll become trapped by a person who claims to ‘love them unconditionally’. Thus making them a darling. And from the moment that label is put on them, the law ceases to help them and they become entirely at their yandere's mercy. 

Yanderes are often separated into their schools and housed in their specified yandere classification ranging from obsessive, possessive and protective, and if a person overlaps two during their classification test they get reign into which house to go to. At UA, the houses are split between those three types and are equally split. 

Katsuki, who scored rather high in both protective and obsessive traits, chose to go with the protective unit where he met Kirishima, who’s currently blabbering on about nothing in Katsuki’s hospital room. 

“You barely made it man, I still can’t believe it. One can never be too careful these days.” He said, for the hundredth time. Katsuki was topless, the nurse having just finished bandaging his wounds. The stark white stood out against his chiseled, muscular front, it had every nurse swooning but he only had one thing on his mind. 

You. 

Where were you? Who were you? Did you really have a yandere? How can he take you away now? 

No, he doesn’t like you. He’s just curious. 

He’s survived this long without a darling. He doesn’t need one, contrary to popular societal belief. 

When babies are three, they undergo tests and scans to see whether they have OLD, obsessive love disorder, which is something about 15 percent of the population suffers from. 

They go to their own schools and such, but their identity as yanderes won’t be revealed to the general public, making it easy for yanderes to take their darlings by surprise when the grand reveal comes. 

Katsuki himself attended a yandere oriented hero school, but what the public doesn’t know is that the acceptance rate is so low because only yanderes are accepted. Yanderes rarely, but not never, go for other yanderes so it poses as less of a distraction. 

And so, the talented in the 15 percent of Japanese yandere are carefully picked and honed. 

And the separation only proves something. That darlings are a distraction. He won’t be like other wanderers, he’ll get a hold of himself. 

…………..

Y/N L/N: Darling

Under yandere of classification: Obsessive

Yandere name: Nagisa Mura

Katsuki ground his teeth, red orbs staring viciously at his computer screen. Hypothesizing and being faced with the fact that you do belong to someone else. The distraction, unneeded angel who fell from heaven just to save him. 

Poor you, he bets that piece of shit doesn’t treat you as good as he could. 

After looking further into you, he found several allegations of sexual assault made towards Mura that got completely dropped after he captured you. 

A flash of searing pain made Katsuki jerk back, narrowly missing scorching his screen to smithereens. 

He...he hurt you. The fucker hurt his angel, his princess...he hurt you, he hurt you, he hurt you. 

He thought of your pretty, kissable lips, making unsure, clumsy movements as you tried to vocalise your name. 

No, Katsuki has to have you. He needs to save you. It’s the only way for both of you to be happy at this point. 

And this, spurred on a thorough check at your yandere, and Katsuki delved so deep that when he found what he wanted, he couldn’t help but break out into a lopsided, sinister grin. 

………………

Nagisa burrowed his face in your neck, breathing in your scent while you sat still and rigid, not wanting to move away and risk his sanity flying away. 

“Did you enjoy it?” He asked softly, suddenly attentively look at you with his cat-like, loving, sick eyes. Your heart palpitated in fear for a second before you nodded. 

“Oh, where did you go? You...didn’t talk to anyone right?” Your heart erratically hammered, thinking that he might’ve somehow found out you did, and even told him your name. You shook your head at the speed of a sewing machine, then thought that might’ve perhaps been too aggressive to be convincing. 

“I didn’t. I walked to the park and came back home.” 

He sighed in satisfaction at that, moving his dark bangs back to stare at you with his green hues. 

“I knew night time was a better idea. There would be no one around at this time that you can’t deal with with pepper spray. Fewer people to talk to, fewer people who see you” he was smiling, not breaking eye contact once, and with each syllable, his soft voice seemed to get more sinister and sinister. 

You only nodded, pliant as a lamb in his grip as he twisted you however he wished. He buried his nose in your hair, inhaling the scent of you as if smelling a rare fragrant flower. 

“We’ve gotten so far since the days in the orphanage when you refused to share your dolls with me when we were five.” 

Memories. Something that should fill one with nostalgia, only filled you with an unbearable sense longing to a freer, more easy time. When you only had to worry about Nagisa bothering you during breakfast, lunchtime, movie time, sometimes worship time and wash time. 

Desperate for a sense of normalcy, you hugged him back, feeling icy cold in his embrace. 

“Nagi, what are we having for dinner?” A twinge of regret pierced you as you lowered your guard for a second. His hold became stiff, and he didn’t bother to swipe back his bangs as he flashed you a blank face. 

“You’re thinking about dinner while we hug?” 

But you knew how to deal with him better by now, deflecting his anger and turning it into something more malleable. 

“Oh no, it’s just that I feel a little dizzy. I don’t think I ate or drank well those past few days.” You paired the lie with a yawn for extra measure, and the ice of his face melted to reveal a familiar worried expression pouted lips and widened greeny eyes. 

He carefully put you down, bundling you in a blanket before he rushed to the kitchen to prepare you some food. 

The worry he harboured for your well being should’ve filled you with warmth, but instead, you were left twiddling your thumbs and rocking yourself back and forth, an unexplainable feeling of doom filled you. 

The feeling of a hand touching you caused you to spring out of your reverie in fright, but the sight of the green hues staring back at you only calmed you a fraction. He put the food in front of you, which he brought back with some vitamins because he can’t have you getting sick. 

“Thank you…” you murmured, feeling incredibly stupid and useless. 

He insisted he feed you and that you go to bed early. 

But as you laid in bed, thoughts of strange red irises and their bewitching beholder swarmed your thoughts along with the fatigue. You hope he’s alright… 

You wanted to check on him, but if you asked or even implied to Nagisa that you met someone, let alone a man albeit injured or not, that he will opt to not let you out for a year again, or possibly longer this time. 

Even in his injured form, there was something undeniably feral about him, as if ready to pounce any second and gamble his chances at life if the situation called for it. It frightened you. 

You shook your head, willing comfort to return to you through the soft duvet and sheets enveloping your body. You better sleep before Nagisa comes to bed and finds you awake…

…….

Finally, Bakugou has the best reason to get that fuck arrested. And you? Poor you, you’re going to have your yandere taken away, and you can’t *just* be let free. You didn’t earn it after all. Well, you would have, had there not being a perfectly suitable yandere for you to be rehomed with. 

Heh, to think of it, you might hate him a little for this...but he’ll show you that he can treat you better, in no time, you’ll be wrapped around his finger like he’s shamefully wrapped around yours. 

Bakugou’s thoughts come to an abrupt halt when the L-word is mentioned, not noticing when his thoughts spiralled to that degree. His deranged obsession with you had been planted the moment you saved him, but Katsuki didn’t notice when he lost the wheel of his rationality to his heart. 

Yeah, sure, he did background checks on you, felt a twinge of pain when he realised you grew up in an orphanage, felt a tornado of anger when he saw the assault charges that went nowhere after that obsessive fuck captured you. Yeah, ok, he felt proud when he saw that you were the valedictorian. But… where did the stone hearted Katsuki go? Where did the one who was afraid of getting close to anyone in case his true nature shows and distracts him from his dream go? 

But then, he remembered your glassy eyes, staring at him in worry that no one ever showed towards him before, fumbling with his phone to dial the ambulance while holding his hand. Telling him he’ll be ok. 

The moment Bakugo looked in the mirror, he knew he lost. 

His cheeks were flaming hot. 

Whatever, he better start preparing your room. 

…….

It felt like preparing the room of a newborn baby, Katsuki bought enough stuffed animals and plushies to make it resemble a fluffy asylum, along with pastel pink sheets. Your name was also put on the wall, with cursive pink letters that had butterflies surrounding them.

Not to forget a dresser filled with all kinds of things you could ever desire. But his favourite was filling the closet. 

Besides adding some of his own shirts, he stuffed it with all kinds of pretty dresser and cute clothes that he can’t wait to see you wear. 

Bakugo dusted his hands, taking a sigh and looking at the finished guestroom, previously a spare but now your own room, it looked as if a sparkly fairy vomited all over it. Hopefully you’ll like it… 

He wishes you were here to see it… 

An unfamiliar sense of isolation invaded his heart, perhaps it was the realisation that he just finished a room to a person who doesn’t even live with him *yet*, or knowing what he’s missing out on with you, but he knew he desperately wanted you here. 

He wanted to protect you from the bastard who has you in his clutches

…….. 

A day later

You sat on the sofa, munching on some popcorn while you sat on Nagisa’s lap, watching anime. 

A rough knock sounded out, the sound so aggressive is sounded as if the wood itself was gonna break under the aggressive force. Nagisa tensed up, he wasn’t expecting any guests, in fact, he rarely invites anyone over. He disassociated the both of you from any acquaintances from the orphanage, and you weren’t allowed to mingle with anyone. 

He saw your curious look, even without any verbal question, but he opted to simply kiss your forehead and put you on the sofa. 

He quickly went to answer the door, but not without grabbing a dagger and hiding it somewhere discreet. 

He turned the knob, feeling his chest tighten painfully, as if sensing a near, imminent loss. 

Three aggressive, toned cops welcomed his sight as soon as the door was open. They forced their way inside, cuffing him and telling him things, words that were spoken too fast and went over his head as the only thought that went through his head aas you. 

He turned around to where he left you, but you were suddenly standing besides one of the officers, not allowed near him. No…

“According to our database, you are a yandere who has a darling. This means that she will be permanently taken away from you and handed to an eligible yandere as part of your punishment.” 

He swallowed, his gaze, which always seemed morbid to you, now looked panicked and morose, gaze moving like a boomerang between you and the officers, as if not processing what’s happening. 

“Nagisa, what have you done?” He couldn’t answer you, he couldn’t speak a word. You were leaving him, and there’s nothing that he can do. 

“Eligible yandere? But as far as I know, there’s no one after her besides me.” The thought comforted him. Maybe he’ll recapture you after he serves whatever sentence he has, even though he’ll have to do it on the down low now. It’s illegal for a yandere who had their darling taken away to go after them again. 

“Well you thought wrong. Scum” 

Bakugou felt like the star of the show, coming in to rescue his damsel and finish his quest, with you as the prize. 

Your mouth was agape, the little hope that simmered in you that you might possibly be free is now crushed, confusion coming full force in place of it. His face was all too familiar, it was the face of the man you found on death's door only a few days ago. 

Nagisa’s face blanked, turning to you with bloody accusations in his eyes, which made your vision narrow to only focus on him, afraid to make eye contact yet afraid not to. You almost felt the bile rise up your stomach as goosebumps covered your entire body at his familiar, haunting stare. 

“(Y/n)...how does he know you?” 

“I-“ you swallowed, unable to answer. Who is he? 

The dots were starting to connect in Nagisa’s head, however, instead of his chilling rage, all you got was a sad, nostalgic smile. 

“Very well (y/n), it’s ok.” You couldn’t feel relieved from his ambiguous tone. Your very gut screaming at you that something was wrong. 

And your gut was right. 

“It’s ok, I know you didn’t mean for any of this to happen, I’m sure of it but I’m sorry because if I can’t have you then nobody can.” In the blink of an eye, Nagisa charged at you with a dagger, with speed you didn’t know he possessed, while you were frozen in place in fear. 

However, before he could reach you, the blond, brawny man moved like the wind, catching the hand that threatened you, firing an explosion at the wrist in a show of wrath, probably giving Nagisa third degree burns, then twisting his arms behind his back and pushing him harshly into the floor. The level of strength between them was visibly imbalanced to the blondes' favour, Nagisa was by no means fit or sturdy, not at all when compared to the wall of strength in front of you. 

The officers, novices who should have expected this turn of events by all means, have proven to be useless until the very end of this spectacle, thanking the blond the blond profusely while handcuffing the hysterical Nagisa, who was taken kicking and screaming by one of the officers while one stayed behind. 

“Miss (y/n), I believe? Sorry we couldn’t prevent this unsavoury turn of events, that criminal will be locked for good, you don’t have to worry about him.” The officer tried to reassure the frightened lady in front of him, disappointed that a yandere would try to kill the person he loves. That was one of the most prohibited laws, though what can he expect from a criminal? 

“You don’t have to worry about your safety though, as it turns out, you will be rehomed with Mr Dynamight. This will serve as both a punishment for the offending yandere and a way for darlings who haven’t earned their freedom to stay with their next eligible caretaker.” 

You nodded shily, overwhelmed by the influx of information directed at you. It didn’t help that you barely spoke to anyone besides Nagisa in years. 

The officer took your agreeableness in stride, scramming quickly as he physically felt the burn of Bakugou’s stare. 

Now it was just him and you. 

“You ok?” He managed to mutter, not sure how to start a conversation with you now that he had you. 

You nodded, not facing him. Are you ok? 

You felt the moisture gathering in your eyes, making your eyes seem like gleaming crystals. 

Of course you weren’t ok. 

You just had the person who, for years, claimed they loved you, stole you against your will and forced you to adapt to a lifestyle that suited them try to kill you. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but apparently your body did as it broke into a sob. 

Your shoulders shook in failing effort to try to hide yourself from him-Mr Dynamight or something, but he felt his heart clench when he heard you sniffle. 

You heard him kiss his teeth, and you had a half mind to apologise, having unfond memories of the sound, but he instead, to your surprise, brought his beefy arms around you and embraced you warmly. 

Your crying halted, head turning up to fave him with a ‘deer caught in the headlights’ look in your eyes, making him blush and turn away from you with another kiss of his teeth. 

“Stop crying.” 

Why did his simple gesture stop your tears? Why are you not trying to make a run for it? 

Most importantly, why do you feel something warm blooming in your chest instead of hate? 

You looked at him, trying to channel all the hate you harbored for Nagisa for this newfound captor of yours, but all you could think about is when he saved you from Nagisa’s sharp blade— how strong and capable he was, really, shouldn’t you be thankful? 

At that moment, you experienced something that never happened to you in your years of being with Nagisa. 

You blushed. 

……

 You stepped through Bakugou’s house, already having an idea of what kind of lavish place it is from the exterior, but you were nevertheless impressed. 

The place is something out of a movie, extremely different to the small and cozy apartment you lived in. Everything seemed up to date and costly. 

You didn’t notice Bakugou preening in pride at the impressed look on your face. He tried to appear nonchalant, but he was seconds away from grabbing your hand in excitement as he tours you around the place. 

Still, he wanted some form of contact with you, so he opted to put a hand behind your back, excusing it as you being too slow when you turned to him with a quizzical look. 

His hand felt warm on your back. 

“This is the bathroom nearest to your room, but there’s one in your room as well.” 

Your room. It felt strangely delighting to have something be your own, when previously everything was ours with Nagisa. Everything was happening so quickly, you didn’t know whether you should try to pause to catch your breath or pick up your pace. 

“And uh, this is your room.” This time you did notice Bakugou’s redness, it was quite hard not to when his entire face was red. Of course it would be. 

The room looked like it was something out of a barbie house. Soft, pastel rugs paired with baby pink curtains. Plush, stuffed dolls littered the place, some small and some big enough to engulf you. You slowly stepped inside, unsure how to feel about this interior, until you felt your bed. It was also a gentle pink, but the catch was how featherlight soft it was, it felt silky, and the mattress reminded you of when you’d dream of sleeping on a cloud. 

“Like it?” He asked, not taking his eyes off your blessed face. That’s the first he’s seen this expression on you. He feels almost cheated, like he would have seen way more of you and learnt way more than he already knows if that piece of shit let you out. 

You hummed to him in response. 

“Good, ‘cuz it’s your nap time now.” 

“Huh?” You straightened your back, looking at him in protest. 

“But, I still have things to ask you! Plus, I don’t need a freaking nap-“ 

“Sleep now, questions later.” 

The sun was starting to dip, giving the room a warm, orange glow which did make you feel somewhat lethargic. Bakugou closed the curtains, and shut the door, but surprisingly didn’t leave your room. He pulled the covers back, gesturing for you to slip under. You were afraid for a moment that he was gonna slither his way inside as well, uninvited. But he merely sat besides your supine form. 

“Um-?” 

“I’m gonna stay here ‘till you fall asleep.” You nodded mutely, not finding a point to objecting anymore. You never have a say anyways. But, this wasn’t so bad. He put his large hand on your head, caressing it and admiring its texture, and how amazing it feels beneath his fingers. You felt his touch to be invasive at first. Who does he think he is, touching you when you don’t even know him?

But you don’t speak. You instead relax and let the stress you built up melt away, and you welcome sleep. 

…..

Your eyes slowly fluttered open to the feeling of someone lately shaking you. You were disoriented, glancing around the fluffy place in confusion, your eyes looking adorably lost and confused. 

“C’mon dumbass. It’s time for dinner.” 

Oh, right, you were living with him now. 

“I put the clothes you’re gonna wear on your bed, and here are your slippers.” You glanced on the bed, seeing a comfy looking white, silky pyjama dress slippers at the foot of your bed. 

“Ok.” You nodded, “I got it.” 

He gave you one final final intense look leaving your bedroom. 

…….

In the dining room, Bakugou had already set everything up. He made your favourite food, lit up some candles and sat down, anxious glancing at the door and waiting for you to appear. Will you like it? Will you ask him questions? Do you enjoy living with him so far? 

If the answer to some of those questions is no, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. He does know that you aren’t going anywhere though. 

You quietly walked in, feeling the tension increase with each step you took. 

You spied the contents on the table, salivating at the smell of your favourite food like a starved ogre, not even bothering to grimace at the memory of Nagisa’s poor attempt at making it. 

Bakugou was salivating as well, but for different reasons. He couldn’t look away from your exposed skin, staring creepily as if he’s never seen a leg before. 

The meal was consumed with awkwardness, neither party breaking the ice. You were afraid of confrontation, of asking too many questions and receiving nothing but anger and resentment in return. He seems so much nicer than Nagisa, you didn’t want him to hate you. 

The silence reigned, and the dishes were cleared away and being washed by Bakugou, who insisted you stay near him but also insisted you stay unoccupied. 

Every moment that passed felt like a moment lost, and you kept summoning your courage, but the words just wouldn’t leave your mouth. Maybe you should build up to what you really wanted to ask instead of jumping straight to it. 

You saw his red eyes sneakily glancing at you, rapidly leaving your form when you noticed him, causing his ears and face to flush. 

“So um, what do you do?” he quirked an eyebrow, looking at you strangely while his movements didn’t pause. 

“You-you don’t know?!” he exploded, looking at you in disbelief. You just shook your head like a deer caught in headlights. 

Oh, that shit must’ve not let you watch TV much. 

“I’m a pro hero.” 

Your eyes widened in wonder, the decadence of the place suddenly making sense. 

“Cool! What’s your quirk?” he ditched the dishes, excitedly showing you his quirk and explaining how it works, delighted at your cute smile and interest in him. The air felt charged and lively, and maybe that’s what led you to ask the questions that have being nagging at you. 

“So um, how did you-uh, how did you even find out anything about me?” 

Your heart dropped when you saw the excitement on his face disappear, his usual scowl in place of it. 

“You told me your name, that’s all I needed to know. I never stopped thinking about you ever since I saw you, I tried but I couldn’t. If even someone as strong as me can end up on death's door, then what would happen to you? I couldn’t just leave you.” At this point, he was caressing your face, looking at you with love stricken eyes. You were reminded of who you were talking to, you were talking to a Protective yandere, who took you. 

You didn’t have to ask anything else really, pandora’s box opened, and everything you weren’t previously privy to is now made obvious to you. 

“It sickened me though, knowing you actually fucking belonged to someone else. So how could I leave you? I had to save you like you saved me.” he had both of his huge hands on your face, looking at you with pure insanity, love, adoration and bloodthirst swirling and mixing in his irises. He was a yandere, he was the person every ordinary person should fear, he has you in his clutches, you should be trying to escape and regain your freedom, you saw first hand how easily capable of hurting you he could be if he wanted… So why weren’t you scared?

[bloodorangesoup]

Sub!Bucky Headcanons | B.B.

Request: Do you have any sub!bucky for us🥺? All bucky is great but sub!bucky just hits different ya know

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: NSFW 18+ | sub!bucky stuff, we all love sub!bucky you already know what’s in store

My Masterlist

Notes: I love love love sub!bucky and this made me think of how sub!Bucky would feel about butt stuff and pegging so please let me know if you guys would be interested in a headcanon or one shot about that because I’m so ready to spend some time thinking about it. Happy reading!

Bucky is definitely a switch but holy shit does he love to be a sub sometimes

There’s definitely some psychological thing with him where he tries his hardest to have control after so many years of not having it but because he was so conditioned to it there's a sort of comfortability he feels in not having control and submitting so something

So when he finds out you like to dom sometimes he’s secretly really excited because he can have that comfort in submitting to someone but this time instead of anxiety and pain he feels trust and he knows you’ll take care of him

I think he’s definitely a giver when it comes to sexual favors because once he’s found someone he loves and trusts he just wants to make them feel so good all the time

But he’s not complaining when he’s on the receiving end

So he’d definitely love having you tell him to lay down and just taking control and sitting on his face and making him eat you up

He’d love to be in this position and would do it for hours if you let him

It gives him both the satisfaction of submitting while still knowing he’s pleasuring you

And he’d feel so safe having your weight on him and having your thighs around his head

He could just lay his head back and enjoy the task you’ve given him

He’d also be a sucker (no pun intended) for having his arms tied to the bed while you give him a hand job

Like he could squirm all he wants but there’s nothing stopping you working him

You would lean up and kiss him and hear his whimpers as your hand moves from his cock to squeeze his balls

And then you’d go down and start sucking him off starting with just sucking lightly on his tip and kissing it

And he’d be looking in your eyes with a pained expression because it feels so overwhelming for him

You’d keep sucking him, taking him whole in your mouth, and keep going until he comes

And after he comes you keep sucking with come and saliva coming out from your mouth pumping over him

And the stimulation you give him has him shaking and moaning

I think him being a sub would lead to you guys having a sort of free use type situation

So you guys would be making dinner and you’d just kind of stop what you're doing and tell him to turn around while you get on your knees and suck him off right there

Or you two would be sitting on the couch in your apartment and you’d be dressed in light clothes like just a shirt and panties

And he’d be laying with his back on the armrest with your back to his chest and you’d just take his hands and put them under your shirt and on your boobs and your hands would squeeze over his to make them squeeze too

And then you’d lay your hand in between your legs and start touching yourself right there out in the open while he massaged your tits and rubbed and pinched and rolled your nipples with his hands

He’d just be itching to touch you more and make you feel good but you didn’t say to so he’d just have to watch as you put your hand in your panties and squirm against him

You’d start moaning and that’s when the begging would start

“Baby, let me touch you please, wanna make you feel good”

And your touching would make you arch, causing your ass rub against his dick and he’d let out a groan and a whimper and beg harder

“God, jesus doll, please, I can’t take it, please y/n please please let me touch you I just wanna touch you”

But then you’d completely get off him, making his hands slip out from under your shirt, and stand up off the couch

And he’d start to worry that he’d messed up and that you’d either completely stop or make him watch you get yourself off as punishment

But you’d lift your shirt off your body and Bucky’s jaw would go slack

Every time he sees you naked it’s like the first time he’s ever seen a woman’s body and it doesn’t help that you had just made him insanely horny and hard minutes before

And you’d drop your panties and get back on the couch, laying against the armrest on the opposite side of the couch he’s on, with your legs shut tightly

And you’d look at him for a few seconds before demanding “shirt and pants off”

And he’d almost trip getting off the couch so fast

By the time he’s standing his shirt is gone and he’s stumbling to hurriedly get his sweats off

Once he’s in his boxers he looks back at you and you tell him to lay back down

You stare at him again, looking him up and down while running your hands over your chest and playing with your tits and nipples just like he was before

And he’d be sitting there like oh god she’s just gonna make me watch

You’d watch him shift uncomfortably cause he can’t touch you or himself without permission

And when you’ve finally had enough of watching him squirm you’d snap your fingers to redirect his eyes from your chest to your face

And you’d slowly open your legs one by one, lifting one to lay over the back of the couch and lowering the other so it hangs off the front

And Bucky would just be drooling at your wet cunt with wide eyes, not being able to look anywhere else

Except for the moment he looks at your face as you raise your hand and make a come hither motion with your pointer finger

Bucky could come just from seeing you like that

He immediately get up on the couch and crawls over to you hovers his face over your pussy

And he can smell your arousal and it has him going crazy at how hard it is to resist digging in

He looks up at you through his eye lashes and you can see his how dilated his pupils are

You take your hand and run it through the hair on the back of his head and use that to pull his face into you

This man goes WILD

He just devours you

He starts by licking a few big stripes up your pussy, through your folds and over your clit to try to taste as much of your wetness as he can

And then his tongue is going everywhere

He sucks on your clit and swirls his tongue around it in different patterns

And when he pushes his tongue in you his nose rubs against your clit making you buck your hips into his face

And he grabs your hip with his vibranium hand and uses his other to hold your hand in his, intertwining your fingers

Eventually he take his vibranium hand off your hip and lays his hand on your pelvis, using his thumb to rub your clit while he licks your pussy

And I definitely think he’d be the type to completely eat you so every once in a while he’d go low enough to lick your ass before moving back up and continuing

And then he’d move his vibranium hand down to put 2 fingers in you, making you arch your back and moan especially loud

Cause jesus you know those vibranium fingers are strong and hard and smooth and never get tired

And he’d keep this up until you come and he’d be licking it all to clean you up, sucking you off his fingers, his tongue going over you multiple times making you jump

“Just making sure I get it all, baby”

And you’d lift the hand he’s holding onto so that he comes up to your face and kiss him hard, tasting yourself on his tongue

You’d return the favor to give this poor guy some relief too

Fuck I think he’d just be so eager to serve you and do what you say to make you feel good

He'd feel so safe with you so he’d feel so comfortable allowing himself to submit and enjoy the feeling of submitting without fear or guilt

God damn I loved sub!bucky before but this made me feel things I hadn’t yet felt

I hope you guys liked this. Again, please let me know if you guys would be interested in something about pegging or the exploration of any kinks with Bucky because I'm game for any of that