#speaking of final culprit

[yandere-daze]

When you just finished a game but it feels like no one else played it and so you have no one to talk about it with

[theinfinitedivides]

every time Ryang Eum kneels in front of someone in power and begs them to save Jang Hyun's life i lose six years off of mine bc i start crying on command. that's maliciousness and bad mindedness you can't do that to me

[starlightnavis]

persona 4 progress update™

SO i have beaten naotos shadow (and the gang were a band for a day so that should tell u where i am in the story akjshkdh) yosuke with maracas and the squad showing up to beat some shadow ass (the butler uniform is a blessing)

also i never noticed just how exaggerated yu's stance is like its not as noticeable when hes in his uniform or winter clothes but holy shit bro

more under the read more :]

kanji is a mood and i love him

rise did NOT like this but i found it very funny ajdhkah

yu going through it

yosuke :)

[empresskylo]

part one

“come sit on my desk, sweetheart.”

you’re nervous as you look back at ghost, but he only nudges you gently, urging you to get up and do as the captain says. your swallow is audible, standing on shaky legs, ghost’s hands lingering on your hips until you step out of his reach.

the metal clanking of price’s belt makes you blink rapidly, your mouth going dry. is this truly how you want your first time to go? to be fucked by your boyfriend's boss while he watches? the nerves begin to rattle through you. having price watch while ghost tried to please you was one thing… sitting on price’s desk while he fucked you was something else entirely. 

you’re still stunned you let ghost walk you into price’s office in the first place, obeying him when he instructed you to sit on his lap, spread wide for the captain to see. it was a crazy idea that you were somehow talked into. you’d do anything to ease ghost’s worry, and if that meant allowing another man to show him how to be gentle with you, then so be it. 

price’s eyes trace your figure as you approach, the cool air of his office making you shiver. your skirt is crumpled on the floor along with your underwear, your tank top skewed but covering your chest still–glad for at least a little bit of modesty, still quite nervous around these two men. 

price’s tsks, clicking his tongue, gesturing his head at the open spot on his desk before him. you slip into the small space and price’s warm hands grab the fat of your hips, heaving you up so you’re sitting on his desk. you cannot believe you have your bare ass on captain price’s desk. the heat flash must be evident on your face because price’s lips tick up. john leans forward, his hands gripping either side of his desk, caging you in. “don’t be nervous, doll. m’gonna take it slow.”

you nod, unable to form words. you hear ghost shifting in his seat but you’re too drawn to john to dare risk a glimpse. one of price’s fingers slips between your legs, dragging through your core, making you whimper. “n’ you’re already warmed up for me.” price tilts his head to look over at ghost. “make sure she’s good n’ready before you fuck her, yeah?”

ghost grunts out a noise of understanding. john stands back upright and he gently begins to push you back. “lie down, sweetheart,” he coos.

you slowly fall flat against his desk and price worms his way between your legs, his hands sliding across your bare thighs, pushing them open so he can look at you. you’re embarrassed but too shy to say anything, so you let the captain have his way with you. price takes his cock out of his trousers and your eyes immediately shoot up to look at the ceiling. john chuckles and you hate yourself for being so bashful. he strokes himself once. twice. then his hand is caressing against you, his thumb circling your clit before you feel the head of his cock on your entrance. “you can look, sweet girl,” john tells you. 

you finally muster the courage to look down and bite your lip when you see how large he is–or maybe he’s average, you don’t exactly have enough experience to be able to tell the difference. but the way he’s pressed against you, you wonder how it’s going to fit. “don’t you worry bout me,” john speaks, “ghost, here, is the real culprit.” it didn’t matter if price was big… ghost was bigger. you suck in a sharp breath in both excitement and anxiety.

you turn your head, cheek on the cool wood of his desk, to look over at ghost. your eyes widen and your chest races, ghost strokes himself as he watches you and the captain. 

“now pay attention,” price says toward ghost. “m’gonna go in nice n’slow.”

and he does. price edges himself inside you and you immediately whine, your legs flying up from the table and cling around price’s waist, your instinct to try and stop him. but his body is in the way, and it only seems to incite him further, price grunting as he makes his way deeper inside you. “ahh, big stretch,” he coos as he fills you.

“that’s it, sweetheart,” price praises. he takes an excruciatingly long time edging his cock inside you, small strokes back and forth, going a little bit deeper each time. you squeeze your eyes shut as price works his way in, trying to keep yourself from clenching down too hard on him. price’s hand caresses your cheek, beckoning you to open your eyes. “m’all in.”

your eyes flutter open, your lips parted, face likely flushed. price grins before glancing over at ghost and gestures his head toward the front of his desk where your head is lying. 

you hear ghost shuffle and move across the floor, then you feel his presence behind you. “touch her,” price demands. 

ghost’s fingers are on you, sliding along the seam of your tank top, lightly feathering your exposed skin. his fingers hook on the fabric and he drags your tank up until it’s tucked under your chin, your bra the only thing between the men’s eyes and your breasts. ghost gropes your chest over your bra and you squirm at his aggressive touch. but ghost is impatient and he tears your bra down a moment later, your nipples popping free with a gasp, and he assaults your breasts, squeezing and palming your soft skin. you moan and price uses that as his chance to begin thrusting inside of you.

you’re so distracted by ghost’s touch that you don’t realize price’s movement until he sheathes himself to the hilt inside you again. you yelp, your eyes widening. “feel so good,” price slurs. ghost releases your breast, your chest likely red and marked, and he pulls his cock free, stroking it. you turn to look, flustered as ghost works himself, his cock right beside your head, his eyes dancing between where price’s cock is buried deep inside you and your eyes. 

price tucks your hair behind your ear, his hand caressing the side of your face, forcing you to look up at him as he rocks his hips against you. 

ghost tries his best to pay attention, but fuck, watching you whimper and whine like that is driving him absolutely mad. he thought this might satiate some of his more aggressive desires, but it only seems to be fueling it further. “doin’ such a good job,” ghost says above you. your eyes meet his and you’re forced to let out a moan as price begins to rub your clit. “gonna come on the captain’s cock?” his words enticing, like he’s getting just as much pleasure out of this as you.

you nod, your hands reaching above your head to grip the edge of the table and stop yourself from bucking up wildly into price. “that’s my good girl,” ghost praises. 

“gonna let me fill ya up?” price asks. he seems so confident, but you can hear the way he’s losing himself, the way he’s desperate for this. you tell him yes, your words clipping on a whimper and price begins to rub circles on your clit faster, needing to feel you clench down on him. 

and you do. you cry out, your walls clamping down, fluttering rapidly, and price groans loudly, swearing and cursing as he empties himself inside you. then you feel it, something warm sliding down your breasts and into your shirt. ghost has one hand gripping the table, the other still on his cock, his come now painted across your chest. you can’t help the wave of ecstasy that fills you when you see it. 

price gently pulls out, muttering something to ghost about how to be soft when disentangling your bodies. you feel liquid gush out of you and drip down your ass and onto the desk, your brain in a haze as you look up at the two men. 

price helps you sit up and he places a kiss on the top of your head, mumbling about how well you did, how good you felt, how perfect you were for him. and you’re certain price is going to show ghost how to care for you afterward, how to carry you to the bathroom, how to help you into some warm clothes. but instead, he says something that makes the fog dissipate from your mind. price looks to ghost, “wanna show me what ya learned, yeah?”

ghost must nod because as price shoves himself back into his trousers, he gestures to the side where you and ghost had been sitting earlier, “atta girl.”

cod masterlist

[hor3nee]

• Life •

Sukuna grappling becoming a father while you give birth.

CW/TW: GN! reader, Labour/Childbirth, Sukuna typical violence mentions, BRIEF suggestive stuff, Nothing graphic, Religious metaphors & LOTS of life/death talk, (LMK if I should add anything else!)

Characters: Sukuna x Reader

AN: Nobody dies in this fic! It's fluff-ish. (It's Sukuna and reader giving birth, as fluffy as that can be man), prequel to this Descendant fic

   Life was such a fickle thing, not that it mattered to Sukuna. He was above life, death sickness and health, beyond it, above the proper empathy to care for it. It wasn't that he didn't understand, because he did, once mortal himself, and existing on this earth surrounded by the humanity that populated on it for years as a curse, he understood. But there was no legitimate reason for it to matter to him unless he could gain from a life, there was no reason to mind it.

And by the loose, greedy and otherwise just gluttonous standards of what it meant to be a creature of 'gain' to Sukuna, you fit it to the T, your life mattered to him. Your life, it was something he wanted, no needed to maintain to be kept satisfied, if you weren't there to be by his side, he'd be left starved.

To lose such a thing, would only ignite a certain wrath inside of him.

The screams of agony that parted from your pretty little lips had his chest twisting into a feeling of irritation. He much preferred your screams of ecstasy, making you scream his name in sweet pretty moans when he bedded you. Not this, screams of something he was also the culprit of in fairness, sobbed screams of pain as your body tore to birth his child.

Sukuna enjoyed such screeches of terror, weak defeated sobs he could rip and tear from the pathetic lot of mortals he terrorized, all of whose lives served no purpose to him. The issue is, yours does serve purpose, a great purpose to Sukuna. You're always there, by his side, and when you're not, it bothers him, he's greedy, hungry for you.

Your pain only infuriates him, he doesn't like it at all, no, he loathes listening to it.

Finally, finally, it stops after what felt like torturously long, it comes to a stop. Like that, the tightness inside his chest unwrapped, Sukuna didn't think he'd ever feel relief, he wouldn't need to, he had never fought an opponent he couldn't defeat, pillaged an army that would come close to his strength there was no concerns or worry for him to have to be relieved from. Yet here he was basking in such relief. Your screams stop, now instead replaced by the bothersome cries of something much more smaller. Squeaky small wails, that of an infant. his infant.

"Lord Sukuna." A muttered voice of one of the midwives comes through the door separating Sukuna from the delivery room. The door opens to the midwives attending finishing up and then all bowing in submission, their heads hanging low as Sukuna stands by the door-frame.

"Done?" He asks, more so a statement, a demand as everything he speaks is.

"Yes-" The meek voice of a midwife responds, she not daring to look up from the floor of the delivery room.

"Then what the hell are you dimwitted fools doing? OUT." There's the slightest growl in his voice at the command, one that though slight works wonders on any who dare stand in his presence, and to which without a moment of hesitation has all the midwives scatter out of the room, rushing out with their heads low. Only one pauses to shut the door behind herself, not wanting to risk the stupidity of leaving the door open.

Now, only the sounds of a baby's cries echo in the room, the small thing wrapped, protected in a small blanket. The moment is deafening as it is loud, there are as many thoughts as there is nothing in his eyes as he stares at the small baby you held. Yes, you made his child, 9 tedious months of him practically carrying you around everywhere and it was out now.

Sukuna was, well Sukuna, he didn't bother thinking much of the specifics, but rather the obvious reality of the situation during those passing months, and didn't see a reason to. He could still sleep with you, could still have you around, could still listen to your voice speak with him in converse. Was it different? Sure, but in no way that bothered him. Cravings? The King of the Curses can provide feasts. Tired? You needn't walk, he has four arms for a reason. The bodily change? Sukuna guts humans like pigs, the size of your stomach was far from grotesque to such a demon like Sukuna.

But now, he is met with the reality, the sight, the sound the smell of the newborn babe, absolutely reeking of familiarity, a literal complete being of two halves, Sukuna and you. It's overwhelming, and not in the way Sukuna likes, not in the hedonistic pleasures he enjoys but rather overwhelming in thoughts. Thoughts as rampant as blank in his mind, fogged like he was considering all of this.

"Sukuna." A clear call of his name comes from your throat despite its audible hoarseness of exhaustion, still as captivating as always, catching his entire attention. No one can command the Sukuna, but he doesn't need to be commanded when you call for him, because it's in his full will and gratification to come to your side, which he of course does. Stepping softly to where you are laid, surrounded by stained sheets, tools and incense presumably used in aid of the birth.

"What?" His throat rumbles, a question with no particular answer aside from the obvious literal whole baby you had birthed in your arms.

"Look at them... Beautiful, aren't they?" And perhaps by the grace of a god he'd doubted existed, there was a moment of serenity now, the fog cleared from the depths of his sick mind as he gazed upon the small bundle in your arms. That was your grace perhaps, no definitely, definitely your grace, you had bore his child.

That damned sinister grin came over his face as he reached down to the infant, the large monstrously large hand of his ever so delicately traced the cheek of the little one, a comical contrast between himself and the child. For the entirety of you and Sukuna's time spent together, he had considered you the only life that truly mattered to him, and now you had created a life from the mere womb, you've given him another life he'd find true importance in.

His child's life, blessed by the sanctified arms that cradled it.

"Divine, rather." He rumbled, a short snicker leaving his twisted tongue, but laced with genuine adoration. Utter devotion to this small life, to both two lives he had found himself so graciously gifted. Of you, of his child.

[steddie-as-they-come]

everybody talks

i could not tell you what this is. i wrote it all in one sitting. enjoy or whatever

It starts with the graffiti.

Scribbled in thick, permanent marker across the boys' gym lockers.

STEVE HARRINGTON FUCKS EDDIE MUNSON

The custodian tries half-heartedly to scrub it off, but he only manages to get about a letter and a half off the locker before his shift is over. It's back up by the next day anyway.

Half the school is walking on tiptoes around Steve, waiting for him to blow up and demand a manhunt for the culprit.

The other half is snickering and laughing as he walks by in the halls.

Steve doesn't give two shits. He holds his head up high and walks onwards, ignoring the laughs and the kissy noises. He needs to graduate. He needs to not get eaten by a terrifying monster from an alternate reality. More pressing things happen to Steve Harrington than grade school graffiti.

Until he turns the corner and sees Eddie Munson glaring furiously at his closed locker.

He doesn't speak to him. Even if the graffiti isn't a big deal, there's no need to add any fuel to the fire.

Eddie finally steps forward and wrenches open his locker door. The crowd milling in the halls begins to laugh.

Papers spill out, dozens of them, cascading over the floor and burying Eddie's shoes. One slides all the way to Steve's feet.

He looks down automatically.

There's an atrocious drawing of two stick figures bent over each other. The one on the bottom has two lines of curly hair, while the one on the top has a singular swooping line of graphite.

Great.

Steve swiftly scoops it up and crumples it in his fist, shoving it in his pocket. He'll toss it out later.

As he hustles past Eddie, steadfastly not looking in his direction, he thinks he hears Eddie mutter, "Every class period."

Steve turns a corner, and the train wreck that is Eddie's locker is gone.

He slides into his seat, knowing the band girls who sit in the back corner of the classroom are whispering about him, but finding he couldn't care less.

The teacher starts class.

He reaches into his pocket and slides the crumpled paper between his fingers, over and over.

Steve raises his hand. "Can I go to the bathroom?"

The teacher nods and waves him away, and Steve scrambles out the door, rounding the corner.

Eddie's still there, kneeling by his locker, trying to scoop up papers.

Steve kneels next to him. "Hey."

Eddie jumps like an alley cat that's been spooked. Steve could swear his hair starts bristling, puffing up.

"Your majesty," Eddie finally says, glaring back at the pile of paper like Steve'll disappear if he doesn't look at him. "To what do I owe the pleasure."

It's not really a question.

Steve answers it anyway. "Came to help," he says simply, picking up a piece of paper that has EDDIE MUNSON X STEVE HARRINGTON written on it in bold letters, surrounded by stupid little hearts. "After all, my name's on half this stuff."

"How kind," Eddie said. "Keeping me distracted while your buddies key my van or something?"

Steve reels back. "Huh?"

"I'm not dumb, Harrington," Eddie says, crumpling up another sheet of paper. Steve can barely catch EDDIE HARRINGTON on it before it's balled in Eddie's fist. "I get this is a prank or whatever. I just can't understand why you'd involve yourself with me. The King and the Freak."

"'Cause I'm not the King anymore." Steve says, standing to drag a nearby garbage can closer. It's already half-full of papers. "You sure don't listen to gossip, Munson. Billy beat my ass and I lost every friend I had. So. I think it's a prank on both of us."

"Oh."

Eddie, wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles, shuts the fuck up. Steve had seen people lose their meals to his impassioned school cafeteria rants, but it only takes Steve Harrington to shut Munson's infamous mouth.

Wait, that sounds wrong.

They keep cleaning in silence - relatively. Steve starts balling up the papers and tossing them at the trash can, unable to stop himself from hissing out a yes! if he makes the throw.

"Impressive," Eddie says dryly. "Can you do this?" He raises one hand in the air like he's about to take a pledge, and in the other he folds and rolls a slip of paper until it's shaped like a joint.

Steve chuckles. "Nope." He takes the fake joint, and it comes undone in his palm, revealing the same crude stick figure couple from earlier.

Right.

Steve had forgotten what they were doing here.

Evidently, Eddie had too. He looks down at the drawing, then snatches the paper from Steve, tossing it in the trash, two spots of pink high on his cheeks.

He scoops the last of the papers into his arms, dumping them in the trash can. "You can go back to class," he tells Steve, settling down with his back against the locker.

"What are you doing?" Steve says, slightly caught off-guard by the dismissal.

"Seeing if those pricks will try to do it again." Eddie says, folding his knees up to his chest. "They do it all the time. I think there's a jungle's worth of trees just being used to make shit for my locker."

"You're just gonna guard it?" Steve asks.

"Sure," Eddie says, picking at a piece of lint on his shirt. "What else have I got to do?"

Steve plops himself down next to Eddie. "I'll guard with you," he says stubbornly.

"Seriously?" Eddie asks, like Steve's particularly slow. Steve's gotten that tone of voice a lot in his life.

"Yeah." Steve says. He parrots, "What else have I got to do?"

"You're just gonna fuel the rumors, dude." Eddie says. "My name's mud around here. You know that damn well."

"Sure," Steve shrugs. "But it hasn't been half-bad hanging out with you, and I don't care what these jackasses think of me anymore. Bigger things to worry about."

They settle into a comfortable silence, watching the students pass by, their whispered comments and curious glances bouncing off the duo. Eddie taps his fingers rhythmically on the ground, humming a tune Steve doesn't recognize but finds oddly comforting.

He reaches into his pocket to feel the small paper, then tugs it out. Is it dumb that a stupid drawing is making him think about himself this much?

"Hey, Eddie," Steve starts, hesitating. "Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot," Eddie says idly.

"How do you... I mean, when did you know you were gay?" Steve asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie's expression turns to one of suspicion, but he answers anyway. "I guess I always knew, deep down. But I really figured it out in middle school." He looks at Steve out of the corner of his eye. "Why?"

Steve bites his lip, considering his next words carefully. "I think I might be... different too. I mean, I've only ever dated girls, but lately, I don't know. I feel... something."

Something means he worried for weeks when Billy beat the shit out of him because suddenly all these feelings were tugging at his brain. Feelings for people like Eddie Munson.

Eddie's eyes widen slightly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. (What? Steve's not looking at his lips. Huh?) "Steve Harrington, the former King of Hawkins High, might not be straight? Now that's some gossip I'd actually pay attention to."

"Shut up," Steve mutters, but he's smiling too. "I'm serious."

"Well..." Eddie trails off. "We can try it out?"

Steve's heart skips a beat. "Huh?"

"We can try it out." Eddie repeats. "But, uh," he leans close, his breath ghosting over the shell of Steve's ear. "Just so you know, I prefer to be the one on top."

Weeks later, the school is overtaken by a new kind of graffiti. Papers plastered to every surface, a spiky handwriting (usually used to write setlists and D&D character sheets) adorning each and every one of them.

EDDIE MUNSON FUCKS STEVE HARRINGTON

[cypherscript]

Linchpin

The GIW have finally done it; they finally rid the world of the strongest ghost in their recorded history and the world finally know peace from ghost kind.

Watchtower - Four years three months later.

"Right," Tim Drake-Wayne aka Red Robin stood before a small council of Batman, Wonder Woman, Booster Gold, Martian Manhunter and the Flash, "Thank you, everyone for allowing me to request this meeting but it's imperative that this matter be seen to before something irreversible comes to pass."

"Red Robin, wandering."

"Right, sorry." Tim taps away on the computer and pulls up several of his personal photos from his day off last month of the night sky with two bright pinpoints of lights. "This is the night sky with Alpha Centauri a month ago. I was on vacation and managed to get some good pictures for that night but something else happened that night." He pulls up another photo of the same night sky but one of the stars were gone.

"Where'd the left star go," Flash asks as he pulls over a digital copy of the two pictures.

"I don't know but it's still not there. A month ago Proxima Centauri went out and no one's saying anything about it online. I was hoping to petition the Justice League to borrow the Watchtower's computer and telescope to check the area."

"I don't see why that would be an issue," Wonder Woman says as she also looks over the pictures with the flash. "Batman?"

"I don't have a problem with it but it needed someone not connected to the issue to vote on it." With that said they voted to let Tim borrow the computer's telescope and began scanning the area. Several hours later they had a really clear picture of the area Proxima Centauri had been. In its spot there was nothing; no gas, no planets, no nebulas or anything but darkness.

"We should probably get Green Lantern or one of the space heroes." Batman's Hn spoke leagues to his current mood.

_____________________________________________________________

"So your little bird was right, Bats. Proxima's gone and it's not the only one. The Guardian's have been receiving distress calls for several universal cycles. Tamaran, Corona Seven, Betelgeuse, Alpha Corvi to name some." Hal says as he reads from a list projected from his ring, "They've traced a Decay Field originating from Earth over four years ago. Supposedly failed supervillain attack? Experimentation gone wrong?"

"We're unsure. We've talked with the United Nations and no one's come forward with anything concrete. We do have a list the length of the Batmobile of possible culprits though."

"Sorry but what's a Decay Field? I can hear those capital letters and don't just say it's a field that decays stuff." Flash asks, looking up from his portion of experiments.

"But it is... The Guardian's explained it like a kill switch to certain technologies. Something happened on Earth four years that made the universe start eating itself."

"Then why not start with our sun? Why start at a star 4 light years away," Batman asks, putting down the League's digitized stellar map, "If the field originated on Earth, Sol should have been the first to vanish."

"Strange isn't it?"

A burst of static comes from the speakers at the table, causing a couple to flinch before a corrupted male voice speaks to them.

Ņ̵͙͔̼̓̏̕̚o̸̢̳̮̖̩̪͉͒̊̓̐t̸͙͓̻̙͗̌͆́̈ ̸̢̖̪̫̪͙̉̆ͅǎ̸̦͔̜͂͗͛͘͠t̸͇̏̂̉̆ ̵̹̖̣͎̘̟̞͒͆a̴̛̟͗́͂̿͜ḻ̸̑́̀l̵̢̗̻̙̜̄͆.̶̢̨̤̞̖͕̾̏͌̽̽ ̷̛̩̘͍̺͚͈̐̔́̾͊̚W̸̨̳̟͍͓̱̊͗̿̓͜e̸̛̛̹̒͜ ̵̞̻̌̓͆̂̕w̷͉͐́e̴̼̗͑̐̈̑̆͝r̴̫̻͇͖̞͂è̶̯̺͙̬̲ ̶̢̣̣̥͐̓̓w̶͇̺̯̝̲̌̚o̸̡̢̗͖̤̮͑̇n̵͇̣͙̫̹̄͌̽d̴̺̼͕̙̐́̂̈e̴̢̧̮̣͍̯̽͝r̵̼͙̩͛͆͝i̷̝̱͎̞͑̏̀n̵̯̰̻̹̭͕̫̈́͛́̌͘g̵̨̛̻̯̺̠͈̜̅͂̌͘͠͝ ̸̺͉͍̹̱͕̈́̅̀̾̈́͘ẅ̷̨̝͔̖͉̜̭͘̕h̴͚̘͕͊̄ȩ̷̢̱̱̤̫̗̈͘n̸̼̦̭̹͆̏͘ ̷̰̫̳͊͌̋̇͂̍̕͜ẙ̷̭͙̘̅̋́̚ó̶͔̪̥̩̭͎̺͋͑́́̒ũ̶͙̝̬͖̯̏̎͠ ̴̢͈͎̤̜̲͛̈̓̀̒̍̕ͅp̸̨͈̱̥̙̗̠̊̋̀e̶͚͊̈́͐̀̋͠ơ̵̧̧͍̥̮p̴͈̘̺̙̫͈̀͆́l̵̝̻̼̳̋ͅͅḙ̵̮͍̻̺̀̑͛́͑̕ ̸̮̥̀̉̈́͑͊͐͂w̵̲̥̅̎̋̓ȏ̴͚̰̩̐̓̎̿̍̀ͅȗ̵̙͓̂͝l̶̟̪͐͗͂̂d̵͎̦̈́̌̀͌ ̵̧̗̲̈́́̔f̵̨͙̪̌̌̀͜͠i̷̳͛̉̊̆̈̓̒n̶̮̗̤͋̾̂̂͘a̶̤̫̘͚͌̓̒̊l̴̟̰̼͉͖̉̎̓͒͆̅͜l̶̢̹̾̉̒̊̕y̴̡̙̞͒̒̏̉ ̷̧͙̺̯̼̉ǹ̷̯̲́̉̈̚o̸͓̠̖͌̋͒͛ṭ̵̟̥͕͉̀̔ȋ̴̢͉͎̃͆̈́̈́̈́͠c̵̰̰͎̭̯͑̆͌͗͝ȅ̷̖̫̃̐̈͝ ̵͎̣̖̄̃͋̌̂̌̊w̴̹̦̙̜̙͉̰̓̈́̚h̸͇̣̩̝͇͊̃͑͆̂͝ä̵͚̭̪̖̀͗͑̄͘t̶̛̟̳̣͔͍̿̓͆͘͠ ̷̨̠̪͔͎̐̇͌ẁ̷̢͖͓̹͛̈a̷̭͚̭̳̙͇̽́̉̽̐͘s̷̨̲̖͌̆̊̋̐̈́ͅ ̵̻̻̯͍̤̊̂͝͝ĝ̴̨̢̰̙̞̲̂̽̈o̴̪̥̙̽̅͗̓í̷͈̯̾́̋̾̊n̸̳̘͍͒̋̏͆̀̐͜ͅg̸̻̿͗̐̊̍̚͝ ̶̤̰̹̭͙̬͙̇̀ṏ̴̘̮̱̦͍́͂̑̚͜͝ņ̵̼͊.̴̡̜͔͍͇͍̃̐

(Not at all. We were wondering when you people would finally notic what was going on.)

"Who are you," Batman demands as the voice chuckles, "Is this your doing?"

Ņ̷͙̹̱͕̀͐̄́͜ớ̷̩̠̻̅̉̈́̎̀ͅ.̷̮̲̰̩͆͗͂̆́̒̚

(no)

"But you know about it, what's doing this and how do we stop it?"

I̷̢̬͉̖͗̒̀̈ ̷̟͎̯̺̺͕̅̆͆̌̐̔́d̷͙͔̜̿ȏ̶̡͓̩͝ņ̴̜̤̟̳́͑̂̚͠͝͠'̵̝̜̉̆́t̷̛̯͌̓̎̎ ̴̞́̈̍ţ̴̢͓͙́ḧ̸̲͛̿͗̍i̶̧̯̱̠̩̥̭͛̉̊̌̈̒͝n̷͖̯̩̺͛͂̊̑͐͠ķ̶̧̙̖̐͐̀̄ ̷̛̦̲̎̋̑y̷̧̯̝̝̦̌̒͌͂o̴̧̹̲͉̟̝̱̊̏u̵̱̣̘̳͖̇͗͆͐ͅ ̷͙͇̝̳͒̎̑̓͜͝ͅͅc̵̫̼̠̮͕̠̃ą̸̣͇̩̬̟͌̋͠n̵̛̬̟̼͈̪͓̲̆̀̔̋̈́̕.̸̢̝̳̜̥̗̾́.̸̢̪͔̹͈̂̈̆͛̇́̔.̸͓̯͓̞̃̉̃ ̸̢͉͉̳̬͙̗͗͂͌̄̏T̵͚̩̙̽̈́͛͌́̀h̶̘̲̙̪̗̾i̵̭͕̙̟̒̔͝ͅș̵͗̈́̚͝ ̶̥̲̹̜̖̼̯̉̍į̶͓̥̀̍̓s̸̢̡͓̬̰̹̋̿̿̃́̽͜ ̵̀̈̇́͐̚ͅp̸̡̨͎͇̦̌̍͜ṳ̸̫̖̘̑͋͂̕̕͝n̵͔͔͇̺͚̪͋͂ͅĩ̸̢̛̥̬̮̙̈́́̔s̸̩̝̝̓̀̈́ḧ̸̫͇́̓̄́̕ṃ̸̨̐̄̾̌͂͝ẽ̴͓̈́n̵̮̥̯͑͛͂̀́͝ţ̷̨̟̖͚̹̺͗̋͑͌̄.̷̭̐̈̕

(I don't think you can, this is punishment.)

"Punishment for what?! We didn't do anything," Flash shouts as he stands up to yell at the voice.

Ỳ̸͕̖̼͐o̵̘̻̩̹̽̀̍͑͗̊̓ú̴̢͇̮̯͍̑̚ ̷̢̢͖̹̍͗͜ḏ̵̨̹͔͆̈́̀̀̑͆͜i̶̲̯̯̱͍͐̆̉͛͋͐ͅd̶͈͇̤̙̃̃͑͌̅̓͆n̷͓̳̅̄'̶͙͓͉̣̝͓͌̽͘t̵̡̝̘͔̮̹͔̊̈́͋͂́̾,̷̧͔̲͕̙̋̚ ̶̳̙͉̩̄̐̄͌b̷̻̮̟̩͑̿̕ű̶̩̩͚t̷̛͎̤̠̪̮́̒͜ͅ ̵̠͓̩̤̋̇̂͆̕ͅc̶̘̹͒ị̵̢̟̩̄́͐̒͝t̶̠̥͙̗͎̺̘́͗̄͂̅̚ḯ̸̡̞̳̝̰͆̒̀͂̑̎z̴̯͉̾̑̈́͝͝ę̵̻̼̟̗̌̎͝͝n̴̘̓̈́̎̊͌͛s̷̝̭͔͈͗̂͐̇ ̵̱̇͑̆̋̓͜͝͠ő̶̥̝̠̞̇͆̊̀͌͗͜f̸͈̖͆̀̑̈̇̄̓ ̷̨͇̦͕̺̩̃̓̇̇͐̀t̴̬̬͇͔͛̃̊̿̀̏́h̷̯̠͒̒͋̆̂̅͠é̶̡ ̸̰̘͈̹̳̈́Ẽ̸̢̟̥̺͈̙̓̈̄͘͠͝a̶̛͎̥̦͙͆̑͋̿͝͠ͅr̶̺̟̱̈́̀ţ̵̝̩̬͍̉̔͊́̕͠h̶̥̠̣̹̰̻̖͆͂̉͌͠ ̶̳̣̠͚̮̌͆̋̅͂̈́ḧ̶͖͉̟̮̜̻̖́̊ã̸̲̦̗̜̌̿͌́̑̚v̵̯͚̲̯̖͋̽͝ͅȩ̴̛͕̯̖̈́͌ͅ.̸̩͚̽

(You didn't but the citizens of the Earth have.)

"What did they do to warrant starting a Decay Field to eat the universe?!" The next words spoken was a combination of several voices.

T̷̝̹̥̘̯̠̓̑̽ͅh̶̺͓͕̝̍͗̐̃̄̚ȇ̶̜͉͈̦̮̓͝͠y̵͔̗̫͎͙͚͠ ̷̟̓̃͂ķ̷̦̳͎̓̃͛͌̒͝ͅi̴̫̪̮̰̭̠̘̊͑͛́̐l̴̖̲̙̀̿l̵̹̦̪͐̌̎͆ę̷̨̙͇̮͇̊ḋ̵͉͙͖̦̪̰̒͝ ̴̮̜̥̟͚͇͊̀ḿ̵̱̼̮̠̪̘̓̃̀̐͐͝ŷ̸̖̞̤͐̄͛͆ ̸͎̯̠̰̆͋̓̌̂͌͛b̶̢̜̙͎͌̓̐e̸̛̥̳͒̋̽́́s̴̨̙͑́͑̒͐̐t̷͙͌̀̄͝ ̵̰͑̓͜f̷̛̦̭̀́̅̌r̷̖̹̫͕̬̩̔į̴͎͖̯̜̲̥͒̀͊̓̆͒͘ẻ̵̬͈͊͝n̶̤̼̥͚̱͉̔͗̂͝d̶̯̼̋̏̂̈̿͝ͅ.̴̻̭̣̭̪̣̖̒̐̒̄͝ (They killed my best friend.)

T̶̰̗́̋̓͝h̶̞͔̠̪͖͎̝́ě̴͇̭̻̗̣̉̔y̴̛̝̼͎͇̼͌̽̏̚ ̴̢̛̞͕͓̜̻̑͋̍́k̷̲̃̓̊̊́̽ǐ̷̡̟͔̜͈̃ḽ̶̢̭̠͕͒̈́͊́̈́l̵̠͎̎̋̄͘ȅ̷͖̪͖͒̈́d̴̩͖̳̜̯̹̋͑ ̷̜̜̯̬̤͂̑̀̍͋͒̆m̴̙͕̹̩̞͐̌̅̾y̷̡̱͉̠̗͇̏̓̉ͅ ̴̨̖͇̠͜͝p̷̺̯̖̹͚͎͛̋͌ȃ̵̧̪̼̫͈̺̞̾͋̓͛r̶͇̺̫͂̍̑̕t̵̟̦̞̞͍̀̒̉́̋̓n̸͎̻̻̒ȇ̵̢̪̣̤̫͐͜r̸̡̯̪͖̻̃̉̓͘̕͝.̸̹̖̜̈́̃̎̓ (They killed my partner.)

T̴̗̻̫̼̙͛̐̿̈́͂̈̐̎̔̆̀͑͐͠͝ͅh̸̘̞̫̺̗̹͆̽͒̅ȩ̴̡͕̄ÿ̵̢̳̺̗̲̠̩̹̟͈̞̘́͊̓̀́̏̒͑̐̿̊ ̸̼̞͖̻̰́��͚k̴̛͚̬̹͚͒̐͊̍̉́́̚͝͠ͅͅi̵̘͈̿̌̋̂̈͌̋̐͑̕͝l̵̘̊̒̄́̈́͂̒̍́̿͗̐̉͝͝l̴̬͔͎̍̓͋̉̐̀͂̕͘͠͝e̷̙̭̪̝̭̜̻̠̓͋͑̔̓̈́̋̈͒̒̉̔̏̚͝d̸͕̫̼͉̫͓̜̩̪̺̫͈͋͝ͅ ̸̧̧̼̙̰̮͓̖̑̈́͋͌̅̃̑́̍͛̂͠t̶̡͎̼̖̳̼̣͚͓̝̘͉̊̍̈́͛͆́̾̀͊̃̚͝ḧ̸̨̛̺̹̭̖̠̞́͛̀e̸̡͚̤̮̼̳̽͗͛̾̀̆͂͑̀͛͜͝ ̸̛̪̝̺͓͇̜̀́̿̄̏̕̚w̸͉͕͐̾̋̏͒̂͒̓̚ḩ̴̠̹͇̘͔͚̖̘̻̈́̿̄͆̓̑͑̚͝͠͠͝ę̶̛͔̲̰̖̗̈͋̾͑̂́̅̈͑͆́̀̓͝l̶̨͇͇͉͖͂̃̈̂p̷̛͇̭̺̲̠͕̝̹͍̙̓̍̈́̾̆́̋̐̀̿̓̂̉ (they killed the whelp)

Ţ̵̇̍͐͝ḥ̶̢͎̇ͅě̶̢̨̇̉̎̉ÿ̶̹͔̼́̅͌͑̚ ̸̖̤͛̿̎̍̂̍ͅk̴͓̞̼̙̰̼̅̑͌̍̄i̷͓̣͎͑͂̌̽̈́̾͝l̸̮͖̖̲͑͑͋̐l̸̛̛͇̹̙̳̟͌̽̃̌è̴͇̒͗͐͂d̷̮͈̋̚ͅ ̴͉͈̞͙̙͇̈́̋͂̚ȯ̶͚͓͋̍̍ǔ̴̢͎̹͕̀͆̇̒̂r̶̮̖̱͂̉̽̔ ̵̤͙̺̒́͌̿̈͠s̷̛͔̣̹̱̼͆͐o̸͕͖̘̬̭͒͑̾̆̓̇n̸̡͖̙̗̩̆̀͌̃.̵̬͉͎̞̬͗́͊̀̂̓̕(they killed our son.)

T̷͖͇̱̜̺̳͠ͅh̷̥͍̼̼̥̊ͅę̶̨̺͇͖̹̒͒ỹ̸̟̟̜̗̘̠̓̓̑̑̄͜ ̷̗̲́͊͋̅ͅk̸̻̤͉̝̽͊̃̉̄͒̃i̴͔͙̰̮̐ͅl̸̤̥̭̊̾͘l̶̢̠̹̩͉̦̏͒͘e̷̢͕̠̥̜̘͓̿̈́̏̅͝d̷̪̭͕̓̐͛̿̈̚ͅ ̶̙̱̩̠̄̎̈́́͘̕m̵̪̫͉̲͑͑ͅy̸̢̬̹̞̳͗̃͌̔̔ ̶̢̼͖̼͕̋̎͛͝͠k̶̞̱̘̲̺͔̔̏̇̍̕ǐ̶̜̟͆̍ṋ̶͈͓̱͌͛̑̂͐̇g̸̩͕̻̃̍̔̃̏̚.̵͙̖͐͠ (They killed my king)

T̶͙͍̤̼͕̎͌͜h̴̩̬̞̕̕͜e̷̫͔̟̔͐͒ͅÿ̴̢̢̻̯̩̱́́̇̄͗̑͠ ̸̧̤̪͈̗͈̼̉̓͋̐k̸̢̟̲͝í̵̢̩ͅl̸͈͒̄͋͝͝l̴̡͍̥̱̙̫̣̄̈́͌e̸̛͔̾̒͛̂̉d̴̪̀̓͜ ̴̧̭͚̥͛͗t̶̨͙̬̥͉̼̎͋̍͜h̶͙̲̟̆ḙ̶͕̿ ̶̧̬͒̍͠͝Ḡ̴̨̓ṛ̶͙̺̘̭̮͍̏̒͗͋̇͝e̶̖̙̥͛̄͆̾͋̐̚a̷͚̙̠̙̠͝ͅt̵̰̥̺̹̂̓ ̸̞́̈́Ó̶̞̳̈́̃͋̇́n̴͙̘̤͉͆̆͗̇̈͆̋e̷̛̹͂͝.̵̝̲̣̅(they killed the Great One)

I̵̜͎͎̘͍͒̈̑̄̔͝l̴̝͔̙̞̓͋̅i̶̖͉̠͎͍̽̒ ̸͇̰̝͙̮̩͒̓̒̆̊̚m̷̨̨̘͔̀͊͌̆̈͐̐͜ơ̷̢̺͉͓̤͍̺̒͝r̵̨̧̰͎̓̎̽͒͛t̸̤̲̙̄͐́̈́̕̕͜į̶̧̭̙̗͙͙̊̉̍͛̿̋g̵̜̺̘̙̼͇̃i̵͈̅̀̅s̵̞̯̯̩͖͖̎ ̴̡̤̞̇̾̆̈̓͝m̵̺͈̋̽͐̍͛̕͜��̻̫̰ȉ̴̮̙̳̄͛ą̵͕̭̲̱͈̒ǹ̸̨̛̫̺̯̥̗́͜͝ ̵̨̳̝͓̼͆͂͂͛̍͘s̴̡̢̟̘̝̠̘̃̏͑̑̎͠à̶̧̛͖̦v̷͚̇̈́́̏͝â̴̢͓̚n̶̢̗͓̘͖̹͂̂̚ṱ̶̒̂̈̃͆ŏ̸̬̥̎̕ń̵̨̛͇̲̫̦̮̎̾̔̀ (ili mortigis mian savanton/killed my savior)

T̸̢̨͍̲̝̣͎͈̖͓͇͈̘͓̐̉̏̉͊̍̈́̋̕h̸̢̨̙͇̳̜͖̎̇͛̈́͜ḛ̶̡̻͕̝̫̣͇̉̅y̷̢͖̤̫̔̎̌ ̵͎͍̭̟̗̼̹̪̠͉̲̍͆̓́͜k̴̢̗̺̘̳̰͎̲͇̃̌͆͂̀̔̾͛͂̉͘͝͝i̶̟̹̳̱̤͚͖͖̫̲̓̾̄̅̆̎͂̕l̴̨̡̡̲̥͓̠̰̼̥̂͑̀͝ḻ̷̡͕̩̫̾͐́͑̓̃́͒̈́͆̿̓͌̚͘ͅȩ̶̡̣̮̯̳͓̼̓̉̽̄̍́̔̓̆̎̀ď̷͈̬̱̂ ̶͖̺̝͉̜͇̅͐̓̆͗̿̋̿̀̍͝b̵̧̮͆̂̄̒̐̿͋͌̆̍̓̈́͘͝ä̴̡̛͔̫̉͆̍̔̄́̈́͝b̸̮͙͛̃͛̀̃̍̓y̵̱͑̈́̽̇̄̓̔̌̚͝͠p̶͈̮̣̠̮͖͇̠̫̫̦̝̩̉̐̂̈́̐͐ǫ̵̯͙͓͚͍̂̊͊̉̾̌̂́͠͝p̷͙̯̪͔̙̗̞̘͙̅̄̒͒̍͛͋̈͋̕(they killed babypop)

T̴̯̮̝͙͕̐̍h̸̡̢̋͌͊ȅ̴̟̼̀̈́̄̀͌͠ý̸̨̯̩͐̎͒͒̒̕ͅ ̶̡͈̝͎̞͗̊͘k̸̭͇͙̬̫̙͊̎͆̓͝͝ͅi̶̦̝̳̪͂̅̈́̑l̷̛͈̭̺̄́̔̈́͋́l̶͙̳̯̩̈́͐e̴͇̰̭͙̙̿͜d̴̛͉͚͍̋͂̀̔̉ ̶̤̞͙͕̃̓͒͐m̴͈̹̟̃y̵̠̜̏̽̐̀́̀͝ ̶̢̥͉̊̊̊͐͝f̶͎̥͉́́ḁ̸̩̤̱̲̬̒̕͘ṯ̷̯̬̘̮͙̚ḩ̸̖͍͌̀̓̃͘ẻ̵̢͎̓͝r̸̨̩̗̘̗̒̈̆̓͂͘̕.̶̥̀͐̓̉(They killed my father)

Ţ̷̠̘̦̍̏̆̍̀͊̚ẖ̷̼̪̝͇̪̥͑e̸̢̨̻͚̬̯̭̊͗̀͝y̵̪͛̾̅́̓̕ ̶̤͕͆̑̓͐k̵̖͎͍̬͙͒̍i̴̛͙̬͚̫̻͑̆͆͂l̵̨͒̂͑l̷̛͖̫̫̳̭̱̀̀ę̴͈͕͖̜͎̋̆͒̓͘̚d̸̢̼͙̬͐͋̎̉͝ ̵̲̥͋̃̆͂͗͝m̷̞̭̖͚̭̣̑͛͗y̶̛̜͎͆̂͑̑ ̸̩̤̫̹́̾̈͂̏ḇ̷̞̱̣̂̋̚̚r̵̛̻̙̯̯̆̋̽̈́̚͝ô̷̱̍̈́t̶̡̙͈̘̹̫͆͒̽͐̏h̴̥̝́͊̅͌̓̔̒͜è̶͙̰̱́̅̾̉̽͂r̴͍͗̍͂̾̂̆.̷̺̖̥̖̹̾̓́̔ (They killed my brother)

Ṱ̵̻̤̩̰͛͆͑͒̍ͅh̸̜̼̅̀̏͒̄͐ĕ̵̲͚͕̓ͅy̷̻̣̭̰͎͊͂̇͛͗ͅ ̴̜̘̣̙͑̄k̵̭̝̹͛͒̽͘ȉ̵̫ļ̴̡͇̺͈̞͐͂̅͑ͅl̶̫̈́̃͊̏ę̶̛͖̪̺̤̌̓d̸̛̤̱͂ ̴̞͇̫̘͊m̴̛͖̩̲͊̏̈́̓͑̆ÿ̵͔͎́́ ̴͎͎͎͕̳͖̭͊͒͋̒͑̿s̷̬̹̔̒̾̉̿́̕͜t̵̹̋ụ̸̩̂̆̓d̷̢̧̪̞̦̻̓́̋̐̇̂e̷̡̢̯̤̜̞͈͛̑̎̿͝ń̵̙ẗ̵̨̛͔̯́.̷̨̟̰̩̲͆̉̚ (They killed my student)

"Stop! Stop!" Flash shouts over the voices, "We can't understand what you're saying! Who is 'They'?!"

The voices stop and the clearest voice they've heard yet speaks.

T̵͔̊h̸̲͑e̴̘͋ ̴̻̋G̴͚̈́h̸̩͌o̵̮̍s̷͍̽t̶̬͛ ̸͍̒Ȉ̵͚n̸͙̑v̴͙̽e̸̞̓s̴̞͘t̷̠̓ĩ̵͎g̷͖͘a̷̭͒ť̵͓i̵̟̇o̶̞̕n̵̨͠ ̸͓̂W̵̱͂a̵̺͝ŕ̷̥d̶͇͒

[ladylentejita]

The exact moment Rook became Viagos’s most Trusted (and biggest headache)

It is well known that internal struggles between the great houses of the Crows are ruthless and never out in the open.

Rook, still a fledgling under Viago’s wing, stumbled upon one such plot by sheer chance. A rival house had devised a plan to eliminate the Fifth Talon during a gathering of the houses. Their weapon was a new, insidious poison, designed to work with a delayed effect on Viago’s body, which had been carefully trained over the years to resist most known toxins. It would act just slowly enough to make tracing the culprit impossible. With the event being a gathering of Crows—friends and rivals in equal measure—identifying the perpetrator would be nearly impossible amidst the crowd.

Rook knew there was no time to warn Viago, and certainly no way to accuse another crow without concrete evidence. Even the slightest hint of an accusation could ignite a power struggle that would destabilize the entire house. There was only one way to ensure the truth would be undeniable.

When the moment of the toast arrived, Rook watched as Viago raised his glass, his expression calm and unreadable as always. Rook’s heart pounded, but they moved with practiced confidence, stepping forward smoothly.

Before Viago could bring the glass to his lips, Rook snatched it from his hand. They turned to the room, raising the glass high with a sharp, defiant smile that betrayed none of their fear.

“Salud,” Rook said, locking eyes with the traitor in the crowd.

And then they drank.

The room fell silent as the glass was lowered, empty. For a moment, nothing happened. But then Rook’s face paled, their vision blurred, and their knees buckled. They managed to place the glass back on the table with trembling fingers before collapsing.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Viago snapped, his voice cutting through the stunned silence. He moved to catch Rook, his anger barely masking the edge of concern. Then he saw it—the telltale signs of poison taking hold: the sweat beading on their brow, the way their breath came in short, labored gasps.

“There’s… some left in the glass,” Rook murmured weakly, their voice fading. “For you to analyze.”

Their body went limp in Viago’s arms.

The room erupted in whispers. “Poison,” someone breathed, the word spreading like wildfire.

Viago’s expression darkened, his commanding presence immediately silencing the crowd. “Clear the room,” he ordered, his voice low and deadly. “Now.”

The gathered Crows scattered, their obedience immediate. Within moments, only Viago, Rook, and a few of his most trusted crows remained. 

For hours, Viago worked relentlessly, using every antidote and remedy at his disposal. Despite their training, Rook’s body wasn’t prepared for such a sophisticated toxin, and their life hung by a thread.

Viago’s usual composure wavered as he watched their pulse weaken. “You reckless idiot,” he muttered, his voice rough, as if speaking to himself. “Why would you do something so damn stupid?”

The minutes stretched into eternity. Then, finally, Rook stirred. They managed a faint, tired smirk. “Hey boss...” they croaked, their voice barely audible.

Relief washed over Viago, though his stern expression barely softened. “I should strangle you right now.”

Rook chuckled weakly, their smile lingering. “But did it work?”

Viago exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You proved your point.” His voice dropped, quieter now.

As Rook’s eyes began to drift shut again, Viago leaned in one last time, his voice steady but laced with an unmistakable tenderness. “But if you ever pull a stunt like that again and dare to die,” he hissed, his tone both a plea and a command, “I’ll come after you in the Fade myself just to kill you again.”

[sinning-23]

Hot Tatted Uncle Pt.2 (Uncle!SukunaAu x Teacher!Reader)

Thanks so much for the love and support on pt.1 you guys are the besttt lol, honestly might be a 3 parter we'll see! ANyway, enjoy :0

Also pleaseee excuse any spelling errors yall

Link to Pt.1

PART THREE HERE!!!

_______________________________________

You stared at the text message, throat tight with excitement but dread. It had been a few months since the last incident with Yuji and his Uncle. The roguish male often picked up the young boy, tagging along with Yuji’s father. You’d usually just give Jin a rundown of his son’s day, ever so often catching Sukuna’s gaze as he leaned against the door frame. And every time it happened, you’d choke, clearing your throat and focusing your attention on Yuji and his father.

It didn’t help that he was always texting you, asking his his nephew was behaving. Even though it was cordial and polite, you still felt giddy getting texts from him.

This comes to the next point, why you’re sitting here practically gawking over the most recent message request from Yuji’s father.

-YOU HAVE A NEW MESSAGE:

Hello Miss Y/n! Do you babysit? I know Yuji loves having you as a teacher and I was wondering if you’d be interested in babysitting for him along with his Uncle while me and my wife go on vacation. Of course, you will be paid as well.

-Jin Itadori @ 6:28pm-

You wait to open it, pacing for a moment, thinking, first of all if you were available for the weekend and second, why couldn’t his uncle handle it?!

Well, given the man’s track record maybe an experienced hand in childcare could be useful. With a heavy sigh, you respond and you'd have to quickly come to terms with the fact that you would be essentially babysitting over 2 days with your students' hot uncle.

-----------

It's Friday now, and arrangements for you to simply drive Yuji back home and meet up there with his uncle were already in place. You were trusted with a spare house key, and their precious baby boy, who so seemed to be happier than a fly on shit that you would be spending even MORE time with him.

You gather your things and a few activities to pass the time, loading them into your car. Yuji insists on helping, carrying a small container of building blocks with his chubby hands. And god damn does he not stop talking while he does. It's adorable really, whatever comes off the top of the boy's head simply flying free.

"My-My uh uncle, he doesn’t have no girlfriend." He speaks, the statement making you choke.

"Ahaha is that so? He tells you to say that?" You joke, setting the pink-haired toddler in his car seat, and buckling him in with ease.

"MHM! My uh-" He coughs, quickly covering it with his elbow as you give a small 'good job' seeing as he's learning to keep his germs away from everyone, including you.

"My Uncle says uh he says that you got pretty eyes." He explains, your heart fluttering.

You sit in the driver seat finally, the boy still rambling on and on about what his uncle thinks about you. Though all you can do is respond with a simple, "Oh that's very kind, or a awee", Yuji is nonstop.

It’s quiet for a moment and as you’re pulling into the driveway when he says it, clear as day.

"Uncle says your ass is fat too."

You slam the brakes, the car jerking a bit when you do. What. The. FUCK-

The culprit is already awaiting you, arms folded over his chest as they flex. He’s got a white tank top on and a pair of black basketball shorts paired with slides and ankle socks.

Yuji squirms, growing ever more excited as Sukuna takes him out of the car seat and lightly jabs his knuckles to the boy's sides with a 'Rahhhh', as if he were some kind of tickle monster. Yuji of course laughs and if ALMOST makes you forget about what he'd just said a moment ago.

"Wanna help Miss Y/n put this inside?" Sukuna asks the small boy, handing him the block container from before. Yuji is quick to nod and scurry to the front door.

"I can bring the rest of this, Jin gave you the housekey right?" He asks, leaning against the frame of the car, your neck snapping towards him as you swallow thickly. Fuck you can see even more of the tats now in that shirt.

"U-Uhm yes, yes. I'll go get the door. I can get some of this too I-" You speak, fumbling to find the key. He only puts his hand up and shakes his head, the silver chain around his swishing a bit.

"Nah I gotchu. Yuji knows how to turn the TV on so he can watch his lil show for a bit.”

Sure enough, the minute you unlock the door, Yuji crawls atop the couch, using the remote to try his best to navigate. It takes a while, and he mispresses a few buttons but after about 5 minutes he manages to play something entertaining for him.

Sukuna had finished bringing your bags in as well as the one with activities in it, setting it on the stairs. He rolls his shoulder, pointing at Yuji who was immersed in the show.

"See." Sukuna hums, leaning against the countertop next to you, also skimming over the note. His body heat is practically radiating off of him, just standing by him is warming you up.

You nod in response, looking over the brief note Jin left for you both and according to what it said, your next step was to head up some leftovers for Yuji and then run him a bath.

"There’s two bathrooms so I can get the boy.” He offers, resting his hand behind his neck as you give a nervous laugh. FUCK this nervousness was most likely only on you. There’s no way he could be just as filled with anticipation as you were?!

You take the offer, giving a small thank you before fishing the shower and taking one considering you did just get off of work. Packed away in your bag was a set of comfortable clothes and a book with you figured would help pass the time once Yuji went to sleep.

You could hear footsteps and Yuji fussing back and forth with his Uncle.

“Hush man you’re making me look bad.” Sukuna groans, throwing the toddler over his shoulder as he giggles but continues to thrash, pounding tiny fists against the older male's back.

“No! NO BATH! I don’t wanna!” Yuji whines, his Uncle only growling in response.

“I’ll give you candy if you stop.”

And just like that it was quiet.

-8:30pm-

The night had gone smoother than you thought, you and Sukuna both interacting with Yuji as it’s beginning to be time to wind down. His eyes were beginning to get heavy and before you knew it he was slumped against the couch, clutching an unfinished sucker in one hand and a white puppy plush in the other. You smile, scooping him up and patting him when he stirs.

“Be right back, let me tuck him in.” You whisper, seeing Sukuna look up from his phone and nod, one arm slung over the sofa while he practically manspreads

-9:00pm-

Turns out, Yuji took a bit longer to fall asleep when he realized he was being put down and so you had to sit and pat him for an extra 30 minutes. And once you returned to the living room, there was Sukuna, still scrolling. Well, that was until you came in.

“Sorry, he wouldn’t go back to sleep.” You explain, sitting at the farthest end from him, picking up your book in the silence.

“So you like working up there? At the school?” He asks, putting his phone down to hold the conversation with you.

It takes you by surprise for a second but you are quickly to respond.

“Well yeah, I love the kids and I love working there and teaching them things. Yuji is a sweetheart and it’s definitely kids like him that make it all worth it.” You explain, a smile making its way to your lips.

“You got kids?” He asks, eyes on your frame as you laugh a bit in response

“Nah, don’t really plan on it right now either. Kids are difficult.” You answer, now facing him a bit more, body relaxed.

What was there to be so scared of?! He’s a chill guy who just so happened to be hot as fuck asking you about your career and life?!

“How about you? Kids? Working?” You flip, seeing him shift a bit uncomfortably.

“Hell nah. I see how Jin deals with Yuji and I’m not really cut you to be a dad. And for work well, I’m a priest.” He states, smirking at the surprised look on your face.

“R-Really??” You question definitely surprised.

“Nah I’m just fucking with you.” He laughs and you do the same, trying to keep your volume down since Yuji did just fall asleep.

-11:08pm-

It was crazy to believe you’d spent about two hours just talking back and forth, with him about his past, his brother, and his nephew. You about your own life and current living situations. Somehow the conversation took…a turn.

“Y’know, it’s funny because Yuji keeps telling me about these things you say and I think it’s so funny. Like he’s tone little wingman.” You laugh, seeing him grin right back at you.

“Yeah like what?” He asks, more teasing than anything.

“Well he said that you said I have pretty eyes and on the way here he goes, ‘uncle says your ass is fat’” you explain with a laugh that he doesn't return.

Instead you see his lip tuck between his teeth after he licks them.

“I did say that.”

Suddenly the room is hot, and you’re very aware of how sharp his canaines look in that stupid grin. How his hand is grinning the back of the couch cushion. And for some goddamn reason you just had to look down, that fucking print so visible against his inner thigh.

Your breath falters, eyes wide and you swallow back any doubt. So he had said all that stuff and it want just Yuji repeating something or just talking.

“I-Well I…Thank you? I-I mean I’d be lying if I said hadn’t looked at you too.” You admit, his body shifting to face you more, almost caging you in on the couch.

“I figured. Every time I come to pick up you can’t seems to form a sentence correctly .” He notes.

“Suku-“

“Ryo.” He corrects. Lifting the strap of your nightshirt over your shoulder, playing with the fabric for a moment.

“Ryo.” You test, hearing his exhale heavily.

“Let’s stop pretending there’s nothing happing and has been happening here. No rule against fooling around with me is there?” Sukuna tests, his hand trailing up to rest no on your neck, his thumb pulling your lower lip down.

“No.”

And with that your make the hood move to connect your lips, his arms immediately going to lift you up ans set you against his lap.

Damn does that bulge feel to much better resting between your legs than just looking at it.

___________________________________

Authors note: OKAY YEHA ITs gonna be a 3 parter with smut in the next one I cant resist lol yall know smut is my specialty! LMK if you wanna be added to the taglist shawty!

Taglist: @manikosii @ya-boi-v @tergyri @ninacutebee16 @minaloq @kriegsumire-blog @samisfunky @peachhiz @teupaidecalcinhasblog @khaotic-luca @gurutoru @molita111 @snail-squasher @rowrowrowyourboat13

[surielstea]

Sweet Temptations

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel enters a bet with his brothers on who can go the longest without sex with their mate, Reader makes it hard for him to win.

Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | 18+ | p in v | creampie | rough sex | shadow play | the slightest bit of bondage | pet names (love, baby, angel) | 2k words of smut cause I love all you freaks

6.2k words

I tread softly down the long hallway, following the golden tether connecting me and my mate. Shadows weave through my fingers and twirl up my calves, following at my side until I stop at a familiar door.

I creak open the private library's door and peer my head in only to find Azriel in a large leather chair that I would be drowning in if it was me who sat in it. He was lounging carelessly, a book between his hands as he flipped through the pages.

If he knew I was at the doorway he didn’t show it, just continued reading without a stir, he didn't look up to me either. So I took the opportunity to gawk at the beauty that is my mate, to admire his elegant features. It was no secret Azriel was the prettiest of the three-winged Illyrians. It didn't matter what your type was, my mate seemed to be able to make anyone flush bright red with a few words.

My gaze wandered over his complexion that I’ve admired countless times, those sharp cheekbones that seemed to be able to cut steel, his tousled black waves that drifted over his forehead, those hazel eyes rapidly scanning over the page of his book, and his golden skin that was fully on display due to him being shirtless, I was the culprit for his missing clothing, the soft black shirt draped over my frame, going down to my exposed thighs.

"I can feel you staring." He finally speaks and I startle but he still doesn't look up to me. I decided just looking wasn't nearly enough, because anybody could look at him, and I didn't want to be anybody, I wanted my hands on him the way only a lover could have. I step into the private library and close the door behind me. My steps are silent as I approach his side but again, he's still not sparing me a glance.

Something like envy makes me frown, being jealous over a book was foolish but Azriel's eyes were always on me. He is constantly observing me, silently watching no matter the circumstance. It was such a normal occurrence in our relationship that I had grown used to his eternal notice, not realizing how much I loved it until now, until this foreign attention-craving attitude took over my emotions that screamed look at me.

"Azriel," I sit on the armrest of the large chair, I feel pathetic being so desperate like this.

"Hm?" That's all he replies with, but he still won't look at me, why won't he notice me? It wasn't that I needed the attention. He could do his own thing I didn't mind, but I also didn't want to be ignored.

"I'm going to make some breakfast, do you have a preference?" I place a hand on his arm, tracing my nail over his tattoo, something I do so often that I don’t have to look at the tattoo to know where the inky lines are.

"Whatever you make will be good." He said, his words slightly clipped. I crease my brows but nod and place a kiss on his temple before sliding off of the chair. Perhaps he was just preoccupied with his thoughts.

I walk back to the door, giving him one last confused glance before leaving the library and aiming my way towards the kitchen.

I decided on making a breakfast quiche, something simple so I could mull over my thoughts while I baked. I learned the recipe from Rhys's mother so it comforted both me and Azriel I suppose, growing up in that house every winter when they weren’t preoccupied at windhaven held some of my favorite memories, as well as some of the worst. I mated with Azriel in that house, on my twentieth birthday it had clicked and we’ve been together ever since— but this was the first time Azriel has ever ignored me.

As I cooked I wondered what was going on with him, to be distracted over what he was reading I could understand, I've done that to him nearly a hundred times but the way he spoke almost sounded restrained? Like he needed to hold back from saying anything else or even doing anything else but sit there still reading.

I played the quiche once it was done on two ornate plates. I've always liked to cook, but the three winged males seemed to be against it when we were younger, saying that I didn't have to since we were in Illyria, that just because I was a girl didn’t mean I had to pick up that lifestyle. I had to make it clear to them that I wasn't their maid and I wasn't even Illyrian, it's not like I went around cleaning up after the messy boys anyway, in fact, Rhys’s mother gave them more chores than me, which has always irked Cassian.

"Az, food is ready!" I shouted down the hall and to my surprise he came down the stairs in mere seconds, without the book in his hands. "For you." I slid one of the plates over to him and he blinked down at it, still not looking at me as he carried them over to the table.

"My favorite," He hummed as I walked over to him and placed utensils beside his dish. "Thank you." He picks up the fool and cuts into his quiche. I frown. He usually kisses me after I make a meal for him, or at the least gives me a hug. I muffle a sigh and opt to lean down and kiss his cheek instead, then take a seat beside him in front of my own meal.

We ate in silence like always, but today it was slightly uncomfortable, not fully awkward, but just... off. The food was good and Azriel had it disappearing in minutes, at least he still likes my cooking. When I finish he collects both of our dishes and takes them to the sink where he'll wash them later tonight.

"It was delicious as always my love, thank you." He calls over his shoulder as he wipes his hands, but he doesn't look at me. I would do anything right now to get him to look at me.

I look at the wall of windows to my side and notice the sun rising, golden and pink hues painting the sky. "Don't you have training with Cassian today?" I ask, flitting my eyes back to him.

"Mhm, I'm going to get ready now." He says at the base of the stairs. My stomach twists anxiously, have I done something wrong? Why is he being so distant?

“Can I come?” I ask once he’s halfway up the steps.

“If you’d like to, get dressed,” He replies dryly and a frown tugs at my lips. He only talked to me in vague words, not weighing in on his own opinion on anything like I was used to, normal flowing conversation. And maybe I was in my head, but I wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to watch my mate train under the golden sun.

I rush up the stairs and enter my shared bedroom, going straight to the armoire and finding a simple outfit. I pull a pair of pants on, I wasn’t training and only spectating but it’d feel wrong to show up to a training ring in a gown. I swapped out Azriel’s shirt that still clung to my body for a top that matched my flowing bottoms, the style reminding me of what Amren typically wore.

“Az can you tie me?” I approached his side of the bedroom where he was adjusting the siphon on his gauntlet. I turned around and held my hair up before he could reply, but instead of his hands that grabbed ahold of the strings it was silky shadows, cold against my bare back as they tied the strings into dainty bows.

He walked out of the room before they were finished and I chased after him, feeling pathetic while trying any ploy to get his attention but if he would just tell me what was going on I’d be willing to help him, but I couldn’t do that if he ignored me.

I intertwined my hand with his and he squeezed it on instinct, then quickly loosened his hold like he wasn’t allowed to show me any form of affection.

He wasted no time before shadow-walking us to the top of the house of wind where Cassian always trained with my mate. He doesn't say anything, just lets us slip into that darkness of realms. I cling to his arm tighter, just in case I fall into another pitch-black realm full of mysterious creatures. The darkness only lasted a mere second until we were on the roof of the mansion Az and I used to live in.

I steady myself with Azriel's arm but he doesn't return the movement, as if he didn't want me to be anywhere near him. I disband our arms as soon as I can stand on my own. I notice Cassian across the rooftop, Nesta beside him, seething so noticeably I thought steam might come from her ears. I walk over to the sitting area where the water station resides, Nesta following suit as our mates warm up with their usual movements.

I knew better than to ask Nesta why she seemed so irritated but when she sat right beside me I felt safe enough to say she wasn't mad at anything to do with me.

Nesta and I had become close friends while I resided at the house of wind, Azriel and I only moved out about a year after her and Cassian’s mating bond clicked. But during that time Nesta would often confide in me. When she felt she couldn't talk to Cassian but needed someone, anyone who would understand. I happened to be that person. It started with romance book recommendations the house hadn't already given to her, then moved to deeper things. Things like Tomas or problems she was having with Cassian, or even her struggles with the power from the Cauldron. However, there were still things she refused to talk about, her sisters for example.

"I'm going to kill him." She gritted out as the two males began to spar.

"Tell me about it." I huffed, staring at the warriors fighting so roughly, not their usual fluid movements. Like they needed to get an anger out that's been pent up. Sweat glistened off their tan skin, discarding their shirts minutes ago— not going past me or Nesta's notice. The golden sun beamed down on them like a spotlight as they battled, swords clashing and slamming down onto the others, they were uncontrolled and savage, so far from the routine maneuvers and clever counters.

"What'd he do this time?" I ask, propping my elbows on my knees and leaning my chin into my hands, boredom enveloping me with open arms.

"He's not paying any attention to me." She huffs and I freeze. "I went as far as to try and give him head this morning and he outright ignored me," Nesta grumbled, picking at her nails. My confusion doubled over.

"Azriel's doing the same," I mumbled, sitting up to look at her confused. "He won’t look at me and will barely even talk to me," I explain and she glares at the two men on the mat, her stare so deathly I thought lightning might strike down on our mates.

"There's no way they've turned celibate right?" Nesta creased her brows and I snort at the idea alone.

"Them two? No way." I shake my head, leaning back into my chair.

"Maybe we should contact Feyre, perhaps Rhys has something to do with this." I offer.

"The three of them always seem to be up to something." She glowered.

"I'll be right back unless you want to come to the River house with me?" I ask. She shakes her head no and I nod, understanding.

I winnow straight into the foyer of the River House. Feyre who was sitting in the living room looked more than pissed. She glanced at me but wasn’t shocked when I suddenly appeared in her home. "Is Rhys ignoring you?" I sigh and she nods with a frown. "Where is he?" I glance around the sitting room as if the High Lord might be hiding.

"Out with Nyx," She kicks the toddler's toy by her foot weakly.

"What the hel is going on?" I sit beside her on the couch.

"They're doing a bet." She rolls her eyes. "Who can ‘hold out’ the longest." She makes a quotation gesture around her words and I scoff.

"You're kidding." My jaw nearly drops.

"Nope. They thought it'd be the only thing they could beat Azriel at, so you probably have it the worst." She huffs. "Stupid Illyrian pride." The high lady uttered. I'm going to strangle my mate.

"So they’re doing a sex ban on each other." I scratch the back of my head in astonishment.

"Sounds typical." She hums.

"I'm going to fix this. We’re going to make them lose." I stand from my seat. "Put on your sluttiest outfit and get Nyx a babysitter," I order her, an idea blooming in my head. "They might be prideful but not even Rhys can resist a wanting female," I explain and a feline smile curves over her lips.

I had told Nesta the same as Feyre, dress in something her mate can’t resist her in, drive him mad. We both left training before it was over. The males didn't bother noticing so we didn't say goodbye.

I took my time in choosing an outfit. The idea of Azriel's pride being more important than so much as looking at me made me beyond furious. If he wanted to ignore me over a stupid bet then I'd give him a taste of his own medicine. I selected a lingerie set that was a cobalt blue, his favorite color to see me in, due to it matching the color of his siphons, it was some possessive nature to have me dressed in a color that so clearly connected me to him.

I put the set on, delicate lace and soft mesh that he's yet to see, the kind I know he loves to rip off. I put on a white nightgown over the garments, sheer enough to still see the sapphire underwear but also opaque enough to prompt curiosity. I leave my hair down, I don't mess with it at all. He likes it down, and likes to run his hands through it. Another thing I won't let him do until he admits to losing this stupid wager between him and his brothers. I put a thin garter on my thigh, the only blue piece fully visible.

I run my fingers along a shelf of perfumes, selecting the one I usually wore when we went on dates, reminding him of those nights he'd run the tip of his nose along the column of my throat and smell that insatiable scent. I sprayed it on me, but also misted his reading chair with it, he couldn't escape the thought of me if he tried. A devious smile curved my lips as I placed the perfume back into its rightful place.

The front door of the house opens and I freeze. I know it's him. I grin and exit our bedroom, padding down the stairs until I'm just across the hall from him. His hair was pushed back and he was still glistening in sweat. Gods, he looked so perfect it was hard to stay mad. But when he didn't bother glancing at me all that rage returned.

A shadow swirled up my thigh and I allowed it to travel around the garter. Another zipped toward me, curving around my waist as if to recognize what I was wearing. I smiled down at the dark tendrils and they zipped away, quickly returning to their master and brushing up his wings, those perfect and large wings I needed my hands on. Shadows curved around his ear, telling him all about what I was wearing and immediately his gaze snapped to mine.

Those hazel eyes finally came into contact with my own. And gods how nice it was to be seen again. I remained strong. I gave him a gentle smile and walked closer.

"What are you doing?" His eyes followed me, that familiar attentiveness I missed so much returning.

"What do you mean?" I tilt my head innocently.

"Why are you dressed like that." His hands fist at his sides and I allow his eyes to drift everywhere.

"The nightgown was a gift from the boutique in The Rainbow, on the house after I bought all those presents for solstice," I explain, the lie easy on my tongue, I had bought this for our anniversary which was only a few weeks from now, but seeing that utterly desperate look on his face made showing him earlier worth it. "Do you not like it?" I do a small twirl and his knuckles turn white as the dress flows up and reveals a portion of my underwear.

"It's see-through." He gritted out and I frowned, looking down at myself.

"Is it? I hadn't realized. It's hard to tell in the darkness of our bedroom I suppose." I shrug, looking back up to him.

"It's pretty, just wear a slip under it if we leave the house." He hums casually, then brushes past me and goes into the library. Anger simmers inside of me as I hear the door close. How had that not worked? How much more direct could I get?

I sigh and quickly follow after him. Opening the door and shutting it behind me. He sat in the leather chair, as expected, book in his hands.

I wandered the room absent-minded, peering at the shelves with curious eyes, plotting my next move.

I smile at the idea I get and begin reaching for a book far out of my reach.

“Az? Can you help me?” I mumble, but my reaching causes my dress to lift so when he looks over at me he’s met with the most tempting sight he had ever seen. His movements were rigid as he stood up, coming closer but I didn’t move out of his way, just continuing to jump for the book. “The green one,” I gestured to the dusty spine and he nods, easily grabbing it for me but once I stop reaching for it I settle flat onto my feet, the curve of my ass coming back to press against his hips. He let out a quiet, low grunt that I wouldn’t have been able to hear if he wasn’t right behind me.

I turn around to face him with a cheeky smile. He holds the book I had no interest in reading out to me, his white knuckling grip proof of his restraint.

“Thanks, Az,” I take the book and he nods with a grunt before going back to his chair, sinking into it with a slightly defeated demeanor, his pitiful expression making me smile.

I bound over to his chair, settling myself on the armrest, my legs draped over his as he continued to ignore me. I place a hand on his bare shoulder and begin massaging the tight area.

"You're sore Az," I mumble. "Maybe we should take a bath?" I tilt my head. His face remains stoic, but he is gripping his book like the edge of a cliff.

I move my hands lower, to his shoulder blade where I could knead the knot of muscle there. "What do you think? I'll even wash your wings." I brush my fingers over where his wings began at his muscular back. He jolted, his book slamming shut and his head whipping to me with a wide lust-filled gaze. "Is that a yes?" I chuckle. He only narrows his eyes, like a silent interrogation. "Az, I'm going to need some words." I place a hand on his cheek.

"Are you doing this on purpose?" He says through his teeth.

"Doing what?" My voice was innocent, if he didn't know any better he'd be buying it.

"I just know those training sessions are so long and hard, I thought it'd be nice to reward my mate." My selected words weren't helping his case.

“What do you know?” He says the words like a threat and I giggle nervously.

“Are you alright Az? You’ve been acting weird all morning,” I observe and a muscle in his jaw feathers as he tightens it shut, I run my fingers down that very jaw, feeling it flex under my touch as he attempts to read me. “Are you worried about something? You know I’m always willing to help you relieve your stress,” I hum, slowly slipping into his lap, straddling over his hips and his eyes just follow the action, admiring the way I fit so perfectly on top of him.

“No, love I’m fine,” He defends and I dip down, trailing kisses down his neck, finding his pulse point and swiping my tongue over the area.

“You sure, there’s nothing I can do for you?” I tease my hips over his erect length, painfully straining against his pants. I return to the area of his neck, sucking hard as he attempts a reply.

“No, I, fuck— love, I’m fine,” He curses and a smile curves my lips in triumph.

“Alright,” I pull from his neck. “If there’s anything you want me to do I’ll do it, okay?” I stress my words with a slight lift to my brows and he nods hesitantly. “I think I’m going to take a nap, why don’t you join me? It could help call your nerves?” I offer and he nods, thinking it a good idea to sleep through the rest of this stupid bet until one of his brothers gives in but by gods was he wrong.

I get off his lap and grab his hands after he sets his book down, pulling him up and then guiding him to our bedroom with an effortless sway of my hips they had his hands tightening on mine.

Once we were in the comfort of our bedroom he shut the door behind us and I let go of his hands in favor of grabbing the straps of my nightgown and dipping them from my shoulders, allowing the sheer fabric to pool at the floor, revealing my lingerie set to him entirely.

“What are you doing?” He grits through his teeth, I look back at him and I nearly laugh. He was backed up against the door like prey trapped in a lion's den. I smirk at him and crawl into our bed.

“That nightgown is too itchy to sleep in, this is much better,” I sigh and he swallows thickly, slowly approaching our bed like it might explode at any sudden movement.

He eventually strips down to his boxers and slides into the sheets beside me, I waste little time before throwing myself over him like a second mattress.

My legs intertwine with his, my arms wrapping around the back of his neck, my body pressed to his. He flexed at the feeling of my breasts brushing against his bare chest.

“Are you always this touchy?” He said and I asked, pulling him impossibly closer.

“You don’t like it?” I feign a pout and he pales, brows creasing.

“No, I’m sorry my love I just, I hadn’t noticed it until today,” He stumbles over his words, making my frown turn into a sickeningly sweet smirk.

“You’re so cute Az,” I mumbled, leaning up and pecking his lips tenderly. “I love you,” I whisper so softly that if he wasn’t so close he wouldn’t have been able to hear it. But he did, and it wasn’t the lingerie, or the perfume, or even kissing his neck that made him snap, no, it was those three words that he thought he’d never hear romantically, and I just gave them to him so casually he thought the world stopped spinning for a moment.

“Oh, fuck it,” He grumbled before crashing his lips onto mine, the tension leaving my body as he rolls over me and settles between my legs. His kiss was starving, like he couldn’t get enough, he had been craving me all day and ignoring that feeling but now it was all crashing down onto him at once and it was impossible to get enough. His kiss was all-consuming as his thumb came to my chin and opened my mouth manually, his tongue slipping inside without forethought. My tongue met his just as quickly, they didn’t battle but they danced around each other, a steady balance of give and take between us.

“You have no idea how much I need to fuck you,” He pants onto my lips and I smile.

“What are you waiting for?” I tease and he shakes his head.

“No, it’s not making love, I need to fuck you,” He warns and a primal part of me loves the tone of his voice, the neediness of his words.

“C’mon Az don’t be shy, fuck me already,” I plead and he moves from my lips down to my neck, his mouth mapping every expanse of skin he can find.

“You’re evil,” He sighs against my chest as I arch my breasts into his face.

“You ignored me all morning, you’re the evil one,” I claim and he smirks.

“I’m sorry baby, let me make it up to you,” He hums, then moves lower, so much lower until his breath was fanning against my inner thigh and he was leaving hickeys trailing up to my heat. His eyes glow golden as he looks up at me, pure lust as his expression.

"Please." I nod my head and he's like a fucking beast ready to have a full-course meal.

He wastes no time, not one second was I not being pleasured. Scarred fingers dip into the waistband of my panties, pulling at them with a force that makes them tear. His breath fans over my slick and I arch up, grabbing onto the sheets to keep myself steady.

He lifts a leg over his shoulder and a long swipe of his perfect tongue passes through my folds. It all happened so quickly, how soaked I was for him. I could feel him smiling against my cunt, as if he was craving the taste of me all day and finally got it on his tongue, his tongue that was swirling over my clit in tight circling motions.

I mewled, my back arching as fingers swiped through my sex, lubing himself with my ecstasy before entering two long fingers where I needed him most.

"Oh fuck," I breathed out, my head falling back against the shelf, it was all so fast, so needy.

"You’re so perfect like this, spread out like a good girl who can’t wait to be eaten," His baritone voice against the apex of my thighs reverberated up my spine making me shiver.

"Mhm," I nod helplessly, relishing in the feeling of his scars rubbing against my sensitive walls, those scars that added so much to the feel of his fingers inside of me, toying with that spongy bundle of nerves that was so relentless for more.

I moaned his name repeatedly, grinding down on his hand and his face as he sucked and licked at my clit. The stimulation was too much and I was hurdling toward a release.

"Az, I'm gonna—" My breath gets caught in my throat as he lays his tongue flat against my folds, his nose digging into my clit.

"I know baby, go ahead." Cold air fanned against my slick and my hands twined into his hair, forcing his face into my cunt as I ground my hips up onto his tongue, matching the thrusts of his fingers as that knot in the pit of my stomach tightened. He groaned at the feeling of me shoving his face into my heat, letting out a grunt as he ruts his hips down onto the bed, needing to be inside of me.

"Cum on my tongue." His voice was a demand, the kind of voice that made people fear him, the kind of voice that had me unraveling on his fingers, just like he ordered.

A string of moans escaped me, my head lolling back as euphoric waves crashed into me. He supported my hips since my legs were rendered useless from shaking too damned much. He gave gentle kitten licks to my now overstimulated cunt, allowing me to gently come down. He slowly lifted from between my thighs, slick coating his lips and he licked them clean, as if savoring the taste of me.

He brought his mouth to mine, allowing me to taste myself as I threw my arms around his neck carelessly, pulling his weight down onto me, needing to be entirely consumed by him as I sampled myself off his tongue.

“Fuck me Az,” I murmur.

“I won’t be able to control myself,” He shakes his head but I didn’t care, I needed more, needed his heavy cock sheathed inside of me.

“I don’t want control, I want you feral,” I beg and something primal sparks in his gaze, a slow smirk forming over his lips.

“On your stomach then,” He orders and my chest fills with both nerves and excitement as I do as he says, flipping over and hiking up onto my knees, my pussy throbbing in anticipation as I straddle my legs, my body forming a perfect crescent moon as I arched my ass up, arms supporting the rest of my body so I don’t fall into the pillows.

His hands come to my hips, dragging from my waist to my thighs, over the curve of my ass, then repeating. He was savoring the feel of me, the view I was so generously offering him.

The rustling behind me hinted that he had freed himself from his boxers and I was proven correct when his leaking tip pressed into my folds. I whimpered at the feel of his head running through the expanse of my pussy, pre-cum mixing with my arousal, the natural lubricant preparing him for his entrance.

He leans over me, his chest slick with sweat as his lips come beside my ear, pressing kisses to my shoulder. “You going to be good?” He hums and I nod with a whine. Shadows twine around my wrists, bounding them down onto the bed forcefully. “Three taps if it’s too much alright?” He says and I nod, closing my eyes in a slow blink, mentally preparing myself as he aligns his cock to my slit.

Slowly, he pushes himself in and I take every inch with a never-ending stream of euphoria. His movements started slow but he was right, he couldn’t control himself and his thrusts quickly turned impossible to keep up with.

A moan tore from my throat as he finally managed to stuff himself completely inside of me, his balls slapping against my sopping folds, the arousal dripping down my purple-marked thighs. “Az,” I mewl, throwing my head back as he continues his relentless pace, his thrusts rough and hungry and everything I had ever craved.

“M’yours, I’m all yours,” I sighed, eyes fluttering shut at the intense feeling of him nestled so deep inside of me. “That’s right, my perfect slut to ruin,” He grunts and my back bows into his chest at the words, making him hit me deeper. He curses and goes so much faster at the new angle, every other drive into me left a soft whimper slipping from his throat, his noises so quiet yet so close to my ear and allowing me to hear just how much I was affecting him.

I clamped down on his thick length, slowly grinding my hips down onto his, gradually growing quicker and meeting each of his thrusts.

If I thought he was savage on the training mats then he must’ve been untamable when pummeling every inch of him into my puffy pussy that pulsed at each movement.

“Gods, Azriel,” I scream his name, his pace relentless as my mind loses thought, becoming incoherent to anything but the way he shoved himself into me, past that bundle of nerves and kissing up against my cervix. A ring of my arousal formed on the base of his cock. “That’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl,” He sighs, his breath fanning over the shell of my ear and making me squeeze around him, needy for more.

He loves the visual of me splayed out for him, swallowing his cock, hips clapping against mine each time he rams into me with an unmatched force, each of them landing perfectly on the tip of him grinding against the most sensitive part of me as I convulsed, my legs spreading wider as I sink lower, making his thrusts faster, harder. Tears roll down my cheeks as I continue to take it, taking all of him without hesitation. “Your perfect fucking pussy is so— fuck s’gripping me so tight,” He grinds out and I know from the underlying whine of his voice that he’s close, and thank gods for it cause I doubted I’d last another moment with my sanity.

“Az, please, please,” I cry, unable to say anything else as he continues to hit home every, single, time. “So full, Az,” I murmur, my head heavy with lust as he fucks me senseless. “Yeah? All you can think about is my cock, isn’t that right?” He purrs beside my ear and I nod fervently, agreeing to whatever he wants me to do, I just needed more.

Shadows listen to my silent request and brush down my stomach teasingly, feeling the way Azriel pumped into me so deep you could see him in my abdomen, the silky darkness curling downward and coming to my clit, making me gasp in ecstasy.

His fingers join his shadows, scooping through my folds and gathering my arousal before smearing it along my clit and then rubbing it harshly in tight little circles that left me defenseless. My entire body obeyed his touch as his ministrations continued. “Fuck, need to come Az, please,” I whine, feeling that coil tighten until it was bordering on snapping. “Come for me, wanna see you milk my cock,” He nips at my shoulder and thrusts forcefully inside of me, his head ramming into my cervix so very close to my womb, his fingers dig into my clit rougher, his calloused fingers providing so much more friction. Saliva pools in my mouth as my orgasm crests and I finally feel that immense relief I’ve been craving all morning. “I’m coming, m’comin—” I was cut off by a lewd moan, rapture surging up and down my body as I gush around his cock, white-hot pleasure consuming me.

I lay beneath him as I slowly come down from my climax but his movements don’t cease as I jolted in over stimulation, his shadows eased off my clit allowing relief but my pussy wasn’t given the same treatment, he continued to bury himself inside of me, harder, faster, deeper.

I whine, not daring to reject him like his perfect doll, clenching at the sheets as he ruts into my aching cunt. “Fill me up, Az, want your cum so bad,” I whimper and he smiles against my neck. “Yeah? Want me to fill this pussy up ‘til it’s leaking out? Stuff you full?” He asks and I mewl, lewd sounds rolling off my tongue without permission.

“Mhm,” I nod, writhing against the sheets at the intense feeling. I clench hard around him and he twitched, letting out a low grunt and without another warning, his warm seed released and spurted from his cock, into my cunt. He moaned, his sounds equally arousing as his movements inside of me. “You’re a fuckin’ angel, baby,” He pants, hands roaming along my waist as he slowly pulls himself from my slit, a whimper leaving my throat at the emptiness he left me with. He stares down at the apex of my thighs, where his cum seeped out of me, mixing with mine.

I flip onto my back and stare up at him panting with a drunken smile, my pussy throbbing as I come down from that stimulation.

I tremble as his fingers brush up my inner thighs, gathering any liquid that escaped me and then pushing them back into my cunt with ease. I gasped, my back arching, it was too much, it was all too much. And I loved every moment of it.

He lazily fingered my pussy, his languid movements making me babble in protest. “I know baby but we can’t let any of this go to waste, can we?” He hums and I shake my head no with a pout. “That’s right, m’ gonna fuck you all day, make you feel so good,” He said and my body tremors at the promise of his voice, and I knew immediately walking would be impossible tomorrow.

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[stevesgother]

From Now On (Our Troubles Will Be Miles Away) I S.H

Pairing - Dad!Steve Harrington x Fem!Mom!Reader

WC - 1.5k

Summary - enjoy some christmas stevie with your toddler, and a special announcement… <3

AN - oops! It appears i can’t stop writing steve as a father. y’all can thank mady @skeltn for that one. 

With love- Emma

The soft, staticky sounds of Frank Sinatra’s ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’ emanate from the thrifted record player in the living room; drifting into the kitchen where you’re rolling cookie dough and wincing as your toddler tries to ‘help’ by adding way too much food coloring into the bowls of frosting.

Over the sounds of nostalgic Christmas tunes, you hear a small crash and the cursing of your husband as he attempts to wrap your eight foot tree in garland.

“You okay, honey?” You shout from where you stand at the counter.

A pause, “Yeah, I’m just–ugh these fuc–”

“Steve!--”

“Fudging lights–” he corrects, “they’re all tangled. I’ve been working at them for, like, twenty minutes,”

“Let me get these cookies in the oven, Ellie and I will come help,” you call back.

More grumbling can be heard echoing from the other room as your daughter, Eleanor, is rummaging through your small container of cookie cutters, eventually giving up and deciding that it would simply be easier to dump all of them out onto the floor.

Her pudgy little hands grab one that's shaped like santa in a sleigh as she declares,

 “I do this one,”

“Do you want mommy’s help or do you got it by yourself?”

She doesn’t respond but clumsily presses the stencil into the floured dough. It comes out a little wonky, but you don’t mind, you aren’t going for perfection. Steve will have eaten them all within the next few hours, anyway.

Speak of the devil, “How are my girls doin’?” he saunters over to you, slightly sweaty from the exertion of decorating the tree and presses a kiss to both yours and Ellie’s cheeks.

When he sees Eleanor’s handiwork, he gasps, “Ellie, baby, these are beautiful!” He fawns over the barely recognizable shapes on the baking sheet like they’re the most magnificent thing he’s ever seen in his whole life.

Ellie can tell he’s pleased with her and starts to giggle with her sticky hands over her mouth. You wisely chose a recipe that didn’t call for eggs, knowing your three-year-old was bound to ingest the raw dough at some point during the process.

Now that Steve’s in the room though, she conveniently decides she’s done helping and motions with her arms for her dad to pick her up. He does so without hesitation, even though she’s covered in frosting and flour, easily lifting her from where she stands in just an oversized tee on a step ladder against the cabinets.

“Let’s go get you cleaned up, huh? Give mommy a break,” he looks pleadingly to you, “Can you please try to untangle the lights while I’m gone?” And how could you say no when he looks so pretty and asks so nicely?

◞◟·̩͙  ͜�� ˳꣑୧ ͜  ◞◟·̩͙◟

By the time you’re finally done unraveling and applying a mess of sparkly bulbs and shiny tinsel to your Christmas tree, Ellie comes barreling out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around her and Steve hot on her tail. Miniature wet footprints mark a path from the bathroom door all the way to the couch, and it doesn’t take a scientist to figure out who the culprit is.

“Eleanor Rose!” He yells through gritted teeth, solely because he’s fighting a smile.

You laugh boisterously as you watch your grown husband chase after a toddler in an uncomfortable crouched position that looks ridiculous displayed on someone his size. It’s a sight for sore eyes.

“Hey! It’s not funny!” Now his feigned frustration is directed towards you, “Are you just gonna stand there and laugh or are you gonna help me catch this gremlin?!”

As it turns out, he doesn’t need help after all. When Ellie reaches the couch, she realizes she has nowhere left to turn and succumbs to a fit of giggles on the fluffy cushions. She’s red in the face and certainly not dry, but you can’t find it in yourself to be annoyed. Your couch might be a little soggy, your floor might be a little slippery, and Steve might be absolutely exhausted, but you don’t dare dream of your life looking any differently than this.

Steve’s playing Tickle Monster with Ellie when you realize she still needs her pajamas on.

“You wanna get her dressed or shall I?” You ask him over your daughter’s squealing.

“Oh, take her, please,” you can tell he’s teasing though. If you really wanted, Steve would let you lounge in your bathrobe all day– reading Cosmos and drinking iced tea while he took care of Ellie. He’s in his element when he’s spending time with her. Even when you were just silly teenagers in love, you’d never seen him so fulfilled as he is now.

That sentiment is the only reason why you don’t feel wracked with nerves over the news you’re about to deliver him.

◞◟·̩͙  ͜  ˳꣑୧ ͜  ◞◟·̩͙◟

Steve’s putting the last of the ornaments on the tree when Ellie reappears from her bedroom with a huge smile plastered to her face. She careens into his shins and he stumbles a little with the unexpected force.

“Hi, peanut!” He grunts a little when he picks her up. You follow suit, wearing the matching pajamas Steve had picked out at Sears for everyone last weekend.

“Did you get your jammies–?” His eyebrows knit together, puzzled, as he realizes he doesn’t recognize the top she has on as the one he bought for you all to wear tonight.

“Babe, why didn’t you put her in the–”

It's then that he catches the words printed on shirt in bold, pink letters,

‘Big Sister.’

Once the initial confusion passes, his eyes immediately well with tears and his features soften like butter.

“What? He asks in that quiet, wobbly voice you’d only ever heard him use a handful of times.

“Surprise,” you respond timidly with your hands out in an almost-shrug.

He sets Eleanor down as gently as he can while also rushing to your side. He embraces you so tight it nearly knocks the wind out of you. When he lets up, he still doesn’t let you go far as he cups your face in both of his warm hands.

“How long have you known?”

“A week or so,” you shrug.

“Baby, I can’t believe this!” his quiet, shocked demeanor quickly morphs into something more like excited giddiness and he’s practically jumping up and down now.

“Oh my God!” He picks Ellie up and swings her around by her armpits before smacking kisses all over her tiny face. You know she’s still a bit too young to properly comprehend the gravity of the announcement, but she’s just so happy because her dad’s so happy.

“Ellie Bear! Mommy’s having a baby!” He holds her by her torso and gives her a light shake, she just throws her head back and laughs, not a clue what’s got him so worked up. With her belly exposed, he blows a raspberry on the exposed skin.

You make your way back to his side and engulf them both in a hug. Your perfect little family of three, soon to be four, and you couldn’t be more content than you are in this moment.

◞◟·̩͙  ͜  ˳꣑୧ ͜  ◞◟·̩͙◟

Two hours and one Christmas TV special later, Ellie is snuggled tight to Steve’s chest, lost to slumber. It appears Steve’s not too far behind her as his head is rested against the back of the couch– mouth open and slightly snoring– comforted by his own personal weighted blanket.

“Stevie,” you whisper, giving him a gentle shake, “don’t fall asleep,”

“Jus’ resting my eyes, darlin’,”

You scoff, teasing, “Right,”

He looks down at the sleeping child nuzzled into him, and plants a barely there kiss to the crown of her head. He rises slowly, so as not to wake her, and you follow him to her room.

He sets her down atop the frilly pink comforter with a practised ease, she stirs only slightly, and covers her up with a Disney Princess blanket that was previously splayed at the end of the mattress. You take turns giving her featherlight kisses and wishing her ‘sweet dreams’ even though you know she can’t hear you.

You and Steve are hand in hand as you tiptoe out of her room and close the door with a soft click, giggling like children.

Outside her door, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead. Then to each cheek. Then to your mouth.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you,” he whispers back, “more than anything,”

“Wanna call it a night?”

“Can we make out first?”

You gasp in faux disapprovement as you smack a loving hand against his chest and he fakes a wince for dramatic effect. Always the drama queen, your Steve.

“Keep it in your pants, Big Boy,”

“Don’t call me that,” he tries to sound stern and fails.

“You love it,” you smirk.

You squeal when he grabs you behind your knees and hoists you up and over his shoulders.

“Quiet, baby. You’re gonna wake up our baby,” he scolds through a giggle. You pinch his butt in retaliation.

“Okay, that’s it. Off to bed with you,”

The next hour is spent in bed with your best friend– hushed laughs and languid kisses and skin caressing skin before you both drift off into a peaceful sleep; holding each other close like you always have.

divider credit to @/strangergraphics

[azrielbrainrot]

Put On A Show

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader x Rhysand

Kinktober 2024: Voyeurism

Description: It's finally your turn to watch Azriel and Rhysand together.

Warnings: Smut, voyeurism, oral sex, anal fingering, anal sex, dom/sub dynamics, mostly rhys x azriel, bondage, some dirty talk

Word Count: ~2,4k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: This story is in the same universe as All Over My Skin and Spoiled Rotten, but there's hardly any plot in these so it's not necessary to read them all. Hope you enjoy!

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Kissing Rhys always made you forget yourself, the way his tongue stroked yours making the world fall quiet around you, it almost felt like he was using his daemati abilities on you sometimes, but as Azriel's hand comes down to hold your waist, you pull away, remembering why you were here in the first place.

“Wait, you said-”

“I know, I know,” Rhys is quick to reassure, a smirk growing on his face when he feels you tremble against him, purple eyes finding the culprit behind you, marking up your neck like he couldn't hear either of you. “Can't fault us for wanting to taste you first.”

“You can taste me after too,” you say, leaning your head back against Azriel's shoulder, trying your best to look up into his eyes, maybe even pout up at him a little for good measure.

The shadowsinger can only smile endearingly, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek, hand moving to hold your chin, turning your head so he could taste your mouth as well. Rhys' hand easily finds your breast under your nightgown, massaging it in his palm before you reach for his wrist, stopping him. The bastard has the audacity to laugh when you try pulling away from Azriel, only for the shadowsinger to hold you in place and keep kissing you.

“Come on, Az,” the High Lord calls out, getting his attention, “We promised her.”

He pulls away from you slowly, almost unwillingly, hazel eyes tracing your face like he wanted nothing more than to fuck it. Gods, you hoped he would, but first you wanted to watch them.

“There's no use pretending you don't want me in front of her,” Rhysand taunts. A smile threatens to appear on your lips at the glare the shadowsinger sends him, one that promises an amazing show.

Without ever breaking eye contact with the smirking High Lord, Azriel takes your hand, guiding you to the chair they usually sit on, the one that gives you a clear view of the bed.

“Sit tight, angel. I think you'll thoroughly enjoy watching me shutting up our High Lord.”

You nod up at him, giving him a giddy smile as he drops a kiss to your forehead before moving back and taking his pants off, baring his skin to both your and Rhys' hungry eyes, before sitting on the bed right in front of you. His intentions were clear before he even spoke up, the way he sat with spread legs letting you know exactly what he wanted.

“Come here and show me just how much you want me,” he starts, “and then maybe I'll fuck you.”

Rhysand is more than happy to do as he says, the hunger in his eyes overpowering the purple and that damning smirk never leaving his lips, stripping the rest of his own clothes as he walks to the shadowsinger slowly, dropping to his knees unceremoniously when he reaches him.

You almost can't believe your eyes as you watch the High Lord holding onto Azriel's cock and licking him from base to tip, a groan escaping past the shadowsinger's lips. Rhysand hums, sucking the head into his mouth and moving his fist up and down, feeling his spymaster getting harder with each touch. You bite your lip, so used to being the one on your knees between his legs, tasting him on your tongue.

You're only supposed to watch, darling. The sound of his voice speaking directly into your mind sends a shiver down your spine as usual, especially as you watch him taking more of Azriel's cock into his mouth. Then put on a good show for me.

The High Lord seems to take your words as a challenge, bobbing his head up and down on his cock, slowly getting him in deeper as his throat gets used to the intrusion, hands holding onto the Spymaster's thighs for leverage. You know how hard it was to take Azriel into your mouth, but seeing the way his throat stretched with the intrusion was almost unbelievable. You briefly wonder if this is what Azriel and Rhysand saw every time you pleasured them. The thought set a fire in the pit of your stomach, the flimsy lacy panties you wore beyond soaked already.

Scarred hands fall on top of his head, fingers tangling in his impossibly dark hair, guiding his movements along, a pleased moan escaping as Azriel's hazel eyes seem entranced with the sinful sight in front of him, the noises echoing around the room and the tears gathering in the corner of the usual confident eyes of his High Lord.

It doesn't take long for Rhys' nose to meet the short hairs at the base of Azriel's cock with his encouraging grip on his hair, his entire length fitting down his throat perfectly. You were more than impressed and the sight was certainly more than enticing, you let those thoughts echo around your mind so they hopefully reach him, and as he moans around the throbbing cock in his mouth you know they do.

“Just like that,” Azriel breathes out, the vibrations sending a shudder through his own body, wings twitching slightly at his back. “You're a lot better at this than running your mouth.”

You can't know for sure what Rhysand spoke into Azriel's mind, but you have no doubts it was something meant to rile him up as he tightens his grip on his hair, moving his head along his cock at the same time his hips start thrusting into him, the High Lord's nails biting into his thighs as he struggles to breathe through the abuse.

Gagging noises fill the room as Azriel brutally fucks his mouth, your own heavy breaths joining in as you watch the scene in front of you unfold as if you were in a trance. You don't have to look to know that between Azriel fucking his face and the praise he's receiving, Rhysand's cock is painfully hard and leaking down onto the floor. Your hands grip onto the arms of the chair, wanting to reach out and take him into your own mouth.

Azriel stops moving after a while, using the grip on Rhys' hair to pull him away, his heavy cock falling back against his thigh, chest rising and falling quickly. Hazel eyes watch the way he tries to catch his breath, coughing as too much air fills his lungs now that his airways weren't obstructed anymore, the spit covering his mouth and dripping down his chin, and the tears rolling down his face as intently as you are.

“What a good little High Lord,” Azriel taunts with a wicked smirk.

“Can be even better.” Rhysand's voice comes out raspy and weak from the abuse his throat had just been put through. His eyes blinked away the tears quickly though, looking up at his spymaster with as much confidence as he wears when he strolls into the Court of Nightmares.

“Yes, you can.”

Azriel wraps one hand around Rhysand's neck, pulling him up and crashing his lips over his viciously, teeth hitting each other and tongues fighting for dominance, so differently from how they usually kiss you.

Their dynamic is a bit different from your own with each of them, but you had noticed as much during your time together. Azriel was always in control, whether he was participating or just watching from the chair you were sitting in now. He was incredibly attentive with you, only getting a bit more serious when you misbehaved too much, but the same couldn't be said about how he handled Rhysand. It made sense though, since the High Lord liked riling him up so much.

They waste no time in moving up to the bed, Azriel easily finding his way on top of Rhys, mouths never parting and hands roaming each other's bodies as if in a frenzy, strong bodies fitting perfectly against one another. When they finally pull away from each other, chests heaving, they look your way briefly, as if remembering you were even there in the first place, maneuvering their bodies so you have the perfect view.

Azriel gets up suddenly, walking to the nightstand and pulling out a familiar looking bottle of oil. Rhysand lets out a sigh, one that sounds more like a whine, and grabs at the shadowsinger as soon as he returns to the bed, bringing him into another passionate kiss.

“Need to get you ready,” he murmurs, pushing the High Lord back down so he's lying back against the mattress. “Behave.”

Your eyes fall on Azriel's scarred hands, observing how he tilts the bottle, letting the oil drip onto his fingers, coating them thoroughly before reaching down, circling the High Lord's awaiting hole before coaxing a finger inside slowly.

As he prepares Rhysand, you take the opportunity to study the beautiful picture he paints, sprawled out on the bed, legs spread as he too watches Azriel fucking his fingers into him. His body was covered in sweat, shining under the low lights, trembling every so often when his fingers found just the right spots. His cock lay ignored against his abs, hard and throbbing, leaking onto his stomach. Mesmerizing, the High Lord was truly mesmerizing.

“You flatter me, darling.”

“Don't think you should be focusing on me, Rhys,” you throw back at him, your eyes never straying from the way his hole tightens around the shadowsinger's fingers, almost sucking them in.

“He shouldn't,” Azriel declares, pulling his fingers out and stroking his cock a few times before guiding it to his loosened hole, one hand gripping his hip as he slowly starts to work his way inside him.

Another big difference from how Azriel usually fucks you is how very little time he gives Rhysand to adjust, fitting his entire length into him with only a few thrusts and setting up a slow but deep pace right away. He doesn't seem to mind though, filthy groans and whimpers escaping him as his spymaster fucks him.

You had been the one to suggest this, but you still couldn't believe you got to witness the way Azriel's body moved on top of Rhysand's, muscles working with each thrust, wings opening and closing with the pleasure running through his body, some shadows swirling around them always unwilling to stray too far from their singer; the way the High Lord's hands gripped onto the sheets, his power filtering through as he lost himself in the pleasure, hips moving to meet Azriel's as best as he could.

All those times you felt bad while one of them only watched as the other fucked you seemed silly to think back on now. There was no doubt in your mind that you were dripping down onto the chair, having to keep pressing your thighs together to take some of the edge off. Your scent was also as prominent as theirs, even when you hadn't even so much as touched yourself.

Just as you were about to let your hand travel down into your underwear, Azriel's shadows come up and bind your wrists to the arms of the chair, rendering you immobile. Confusion takes your attention away from the scene in front of you for the first time since they started, looking down at the wispy shadows circling your wrists, not even letting you move an inch.

“Az-”

“Hush, angel,” he tells you without even looking your way, too captivated with the way his cock slid in and out of the High Lord. “You're only supposed to be watching, remember?”

Even with Azriel's cock inside him Rhysand manages to choke out a laugh in the midst of his moans, reveling in the glare you send him and the curses flooding your mind. They soon forget about you once again, getting lost in each other as Azriel's hips keep snapping into the male, leaning down closer so he could kiss him, one of his hands traveling down to his cock, stroking him in turn with his thrusts, coaxing the prettiest whimpers out of your High Lord as he started kissing down his neck, marking him with sharp teeth.

“Fuck, Az,” Rhysand manages between moans. “I'm so close.”

“Yeah?” Azriel had moved down to his chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth as he tightened his hold on his cock. “Show me.”

As soon as the order pushes past his lips, Rhys' body starts trembling, throwing his head back against the mattress, a choked moan of his name escaping him as he cums all over his stomach, Azriel's hand pulling rope after rope out of him, only stopping when Rhys reaches for his wrist, leaving his spent cock and holding onto his hips again, still fucking him as deep as he can go.

“She wants to watch you too,” he breathes out, purple eyes staring into his hazel ones, eyebrows scrunched together as the pleasure becomes too much to handle.

Azriel doesn't say anything, simply holding his gaze as he speeds up again, the sound of wet skin clapping together and his moans rising in volume filling the room. His hips start faltering, wings spreading ever so slightly the closer he gets, pulling out at the last second, furiously fucking his fist over Rhysand's torso, his own cum falling over him and making an even bigger, delicious mess of the High Lord.

They stay unmoving for a moment, chests rising and falling as they catch their breaths and come back down to earth. Azriel moves before Rhys, sitting down on the bed beside him, facing you again.

Hazel and purple eyes fall on your face as you study the cum painting Rhysand's muscles, going up as far as his throat, so entranced by the delicious sight that you don't notice them watching you or that his shadows were no longer tying you to the chair. It's only when Azriel calls your name that your eyes meet his, tilting his head to the side with a smile tugging at his lips.

“Wanna come clean him up for me?”

[animeyanderelover]

how would yan jouno (bsd), L(death note), Gojo and Megumi(jujutsu kaisen) react to seeing darling bloody and passed out?

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, paranoia, clinginess, stalking, isolation, abduction, death

Tags: @maggiequinn59 @shumidehiro @leveyani @izanami78 @lovley-valentine7

Bloody and passed out

L Lawliet

🍰​Watari can't help but give a subtle look of concern in L's direction as the detective stares at the screen which is paused at the image of your form, passed out on the ground and covered in blood. His grip on the fork is subconsciously tightening as L requests Watari after a moment of silence to call an ambulance and keep an eye on you whilst you are hospitalised. Meanwhile he will go through the video tapes to find out what happened to you in the little time he didn't watch you through his multiple screens to eliminate the culprit before they could pose more of a threat to you. In reality L also doesn't have the courage yet to face you in your current condition as seeing you in person would only solidify that slimy feeling of guilt for not having been more careful, for not having seen this coming. After all he is not just any detective but the world's greatest detective. For him to let this crime happen instead of preventing it beforehand as he should have done is going to be a permanent burden he is going to have to carry around with him from now on. To prevent such things to happen to you in the future though L simply deduces that it is perhaps time to finally put you under special security.

Jouno Saigiku

♦️​Every attempt to keep his violent nature hidden fails when Jouno finds you. He may not be able to see your current condition but his enhanced hearing is enough already to keep him informed about your dire situation. He doesn't say anything for a while as he just bends down to your body, wipes away some of the blood on your face, not minding that he stains his uniform in the sticky liquid and it is this heavy silence that puts the other people from the government who accompanied him on edge. When he finally does speak up his voice is sharp and dangerous as he asks why none of the fools have called an ambulance yet. Is he the blind one or are they? He has everything to do himself, doesn't he? Jouno is the one who calls the government, shortly stating that they are going to need some doctors and a new accomodation before he ends the call, barely leaving them time to ask who it is Jouno intends to not only bring but also keep. Whilst you are being catered to by doctors Jouno starts searching for the bastard who did this to you, brimming with barely suppressed rage he desperately needs to unleas onto someone. He's going to make that person beg for death as soon as he has caught them.

Fushiguro Megumi

💙​His heart is in his throat the moment his Divine Dogs find you. Even whilst tracking down a curse he is supposed to take out Megumi already had a bad feeling as his shikigami were acting strange yet he still isn't prepared to find you. Why you? Why not someone else? Even as his shikigami tear the curse apart Megumi is unable to collect himself, his hands shaking ever so slightly as he wipes away some of the blood clinging to your face before he pulls out his phone and calls Shoko, begging her in a thin voice that she must help you. He's clearly shaken by the time you are cared for by Shoko, is barely listening when Gojo pops up because he has heard what happened and attempts to cheer his student up only to stop when noticing that Megumi is elsewhere with his mind. It is only when Shoko steps out of the room that he seems to return to the present, asking her quietly how you're doing and only when she informs him that you'll survive does some of the tension leave his body. However, after this day his paranoia has significantly increased. Who is to say that you won't be attacked again and that next time he won't be there in time? He can't let that happen.

Gojo Satoru

🩵​His presence alone has the curse cowering in fear, fleeing the scene the moment it senses Gojo's massive Cursed Energy only for the sorcerer to catch up in the blink of an eye, his eyes gleaming with darkness and a deep fear of loss that shouldn't appear in such beautiful eyes before he effortlessly crushes the creature, their existence gone within less than a second. As soon as his desire for revenge has been fulfilled he rushes over to you, taking you in his arms as he inspects the damage before calling Shoko and shakily begging her to help you. He doesn't once leave your side even whilst Shoko is inspecting you and heals the worst injuries you suffered at the hands of the curse, his larger hands gently engulfing yours as he remains by your side long after Shoko is done and has left you alone so that you can get some rest. He should have been there for you. You shouldn't have even gotten into such danger. Yet what were you supposed to do? You're a non-sorcerer, unable to see the creatures that threaten your life, much less defend yourself against them. That's why you need him. You need him to protect you and Gojo will ensure that after today he will keep you safe.

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Toji when he sees you in a sundress...

Note: this started off so sweet... the rest is filth

Discord Masterlist

“You look so gorgeous, doll,” he speaks softly into your ear, his strong arms wrapped around your waist. His chin coming to rest on your shoulder as you both now stand in the kitchen.

If there was one way to get Toji’s attention for certain, it would definitely be by wearing a dress. And i’m not talking about a tight short clubbing dress… no. It has to be some kind of sundress. One that clings to your body in all the right ways, where he’s able to identify all your curves but it holds hiddens depth. 

Which is why he comes up behind you, to feel what he could only imagine. Most of the time Toji’s touch was safe and protective but, at times like these where you look unimaginably beautiful, his touch was yearning and needy. He wanted to assure himself that you were real, that you weren’t just a dream. And if you were… he hoped he would never wake up. 

His calloused hands, gentle against the softness of your dress, erased every thought from your head but him. Only him in your mind as he presses tender kisses on your neck, each one speaking volumes of his love for you. Toji wasn’t the kind of guy who professed undying love on his knees—no, not at all. His love for you was expressed through touch. 

Those soft, sensual caresses that made you feel warm inside full of butterflies, his grip tightening around you, revealing how much he missed or needed you—those were his expressions of love. And when he gave you a soft, genuine kiss, pulling away slowly but never breaking eye contact, his eyes telling stories his lips never could, and cheeky smirk appearing on his face—that was his love.

As sweet as this moment was, both of you grew impatient to have your hands all over each other. Especially Toji. His broad hands running up and down the soft fabric of your dress once again, both of you exchanging hungry kisses. Moans escape your lips as Toji catches each and every one, enjoying all the lovely sounds that he’s the culprit of. 

Each kiss gets slightly more intense as his hands gradually begin to wander. He wants more, and you can feel it in the way he touches you. His hands finally slip under your dress, fIngertips grazing your bare thighs. He draws slow, sensual circles on your hot skin, his lips not once leaving yours. He presses his hips, flush against you, his body warm against your back as you feel exactly what you’ve done to him. So hard, hard for you and only you. Out of instinct, a soft moan of his name departs your lips. 

“Toji…” 

“Hm..?” He hums against your neck, nipping at the skin slightly. His hips begin to move against you, causing you to arch your back, only giving him that much more pleasure against his clothed cock. His finger finally reaches your panties, feeling how soaked they already were. But he doesn’t tease you, no not today. Fuck, he’s was more horny that he would like to admit. His cock twitches in his pants as his finger finally dips into your dripping sex.

Before you know it, you're holding onto the counter, bent over. Dress hiked up to your hips, and panties long discarded into Toji’s pocket. He deliciously plunges his thick cock deep inside you. Toji’s grip on you tightens, pulling you back against him even closer than before, as he ruts into you faster. Each deep stroke causing your body to shake against his, both of you filling the kitchen with the raw sounds of moans and bare skin slapping against each other. 

Toji’s thrusts grew more urgent, his cock pistoning in and out of you with a hectic pace. His hands could stop roaming your body as he leaned forward, resting his body weight against you. His chest heaving against your back as he pressed wet sloppy kisses on your neck. Only you could make him feel like this, as if he was losing his mind. You just felt so good around him, that it made him a fucked out mess. 

“Kiss me… kiss me again babe…” He once again nips at your neck, giving you one good deep thrust to get your attention. And it did. Both of your lips crash against each other in a hot, desperate kiss. His tongue invades your mouth as he continues grinding into you. You could barely kiss the poor man back with how good he was doing you. 

He grunts into your kiss as his fingers find their way to your clit. He rubs lazy circles around it, each pass over the bundle of nerves bringing you closer to your climax as his cock continues pounding into you.

 “Fuck… shit…” 

Toji was struggling with the way you clenched around him, sucking him in so good. His thrusts slow down drastically as he feels his cock twitch. He was going to cum. He couldn’t handle it anymore. Your moans were like music to ears, the knowledge that he was making you lose control sends a surge of pleasure through him. 

With a last few deep thrusts, he has you creaming all over his cock. Toji buried himself to the hilt inside you, his cock pulsing over and over again as he emptied himself inside you. He groaned, head thrown back in ecstasy as you milked him dry. 

“Oh… babe..” He holds onto you, trying to collect himself. His body shudders against yours, both of you still twitching with aftershocks of your orgasm. He holds you up, careful not to let go, mindful that this probably wasn’t the best position but, he needed you so badly at that very moment. 

He slowly pulled out, his spent cock slipping free from your pussy with a wet pop. He turns you around slowly, meeting your eyes with his as his hands fix your dress, which is now covered in wrinkles. He fixes himself quickly before he smirks at you again. Burying his face in your neck. 

“You look gorgeous…” He whispers, his arms once again wrapping around your waist. Right where he started. 

[charliemwrites]

Part 11!!

Sorry this took so long (and that it’s a bit short) I have trouble with scene switching sometimes, and it makes me cut up the story into pieces.

No Content Warnings For This Chapter

Somewhere between your pride and the numbing passage of time lies the way you really feel about the 141. It's undeniable that you're still deeply hurt by what transpired; a chronic ache like a mended bone, only noticeable in the cold, or when you sleep on it wrong. For them, it was easy to reach inside your chest to extract your heart, sternum soft and malleable. It was harder with SpecGru, the bone grew back harder, thicker. You had to crack your ribs open and scraped the chambers on bone shards, but at least they stopped the bleeding.

You don’t miss the 141, not really. It wasn’t just those final, brutal days spent lying alone in a hospital bed that filled those transfer papers. The culprit had been the time that isolation had afforded, to think more deeply, to analyze your position through a less-optimistic lense. Those last conversations had just been your signature on the line.

You don’t blame the gun for firing, you blame whoever pulled the trigger.

Bitterness seeps onto your tongue sometimes. Masochistically, you let it linger. It has no purpose but to raise your hackles and press on that knitted spot until it bruises. It’s your pride, that’s all, lamenting the blood you chose to spill in sacrifice only to have it wasted.

The present is a much sweeter wash for the taste of the past, sticking to your lips and curling your tongue. Honey-balm for resentment, syrup cutting through salt. You focus on the flavor as you stride into the briefing room.

Your captain is already there, a sly smirk for the flush to your faces as Nova follows you in. He’s speaking to Laswell, arms crossed but shoulders relaxed.

Nikto is leaned up against the wall, a shadow without anyone to cast it. He comes to you and Nova as you take seats, angled to face the only exit. He knee presses to yours as you settle in, eyes flicking around.

Nostalgia is a complicated tide rising and ebbing around your ankles. Memories of your time with the 141 in this very room, planning and strategizing, learning where to support your teammates and where they would support you. Jokes made with Soap and Gaz, loaded glances between you and Ghost, a reassuring nod or shoulder squeeze from Price.

That, you think, is where the ache is. Not in missing those moments; you have them with SpecGru now, and without that lingering sense that you don’t quite belong. But in those rose-tinted relationships you’ll never get back (and know you don’t really want again.)

It was never as good as it is with your team now; they were still the team you thought you belonged with. You’ve learned better since but that doesn’t appease the naive 141 operative that put everything into those four.

Your captain has taken the seat you used to have, and he belongs there, a buffer between his team and theirs. You press your thumb to one of the bruises he left on your thigh and settle in.

“Sunshine,” Keegan greets, brushing his knuckles over Nova’s cheek. “Sweets.”

You tilt your chin welcomingly as he nuzzles his nose against your temple, fabric of his mask itching along your jaw.

“Smell good,” he rumbles, low. Just for you and Nova.

“That’s what happens when you shower,” you answer, playing dismissive.

“You should try it sometime,” Nova adds, smirking.

“Only if you join me,” Keegan coos, drawing a spare chair up close. For as tough and distant as he is towards others, he’s long opened his ribs for you and the rest of SpecGru to crawl inside. You admire it now for as much as you distrusted it then.

“Too late,” you say, sharing a look with Nova, “already helped her wash up for the day.”

She whacks you in the knee, startling a laugh out of you. Keegan scoffs, throwing an arm across the back of your chair.

“Nothin’ says we can’t take another,” he drawls, “if I get you dirty enough.”

Beside you, Nikto snorts. Keegan shoots him a teasing look, arching his eyebrows invitingly. The captain is watching, as always, pride and affection smoldering in coal-dark eyes.

And you’re right where you’re meant to be. With them, always with them.

At the front of the room, Laswell politely clears her throat. All eyes turn to her - though you only just notice that the 141 has filed in, perched on the other end of the briefing table, a collective storm cloud.

Laswell kicks off the meeting with a recap of the ongoing mission - basics that all of you read in the docket before shipping out. It’s a big operation, delicate due to hostages. The 141 needed manpower with comparable skills; enter SpecGru.

“One of our best specialists has patched in to explain the parameters in greater detail.”

The big screen at the front of the room lights up. A familiar puff of curly blond hair and green eyes blink into view.

“Gooooood mornin’! Or is it evening? Either way, I hope it’s good.”

Your captain lets out a long breath, trying (and mostly failing) to hide his amusement.

“This is Duke,” Laswell says for the 141’s benefit. “She’s one of our best technicians. I put her on this assignment when I reached out to SoecGru.”

“And you should be glad she did!” Duke chimes in. Her tongue flashes blue as she speaks, and it’s not just the light of the computers surrounding her. Her love of raspberry candies is practically a calling card. “They’re actually pretty decent at keeping communications to a minimum, but porn bots always get ‘em.”

The captain sighs, running a hand down his face. Nova pats his arm sympathetically. Poor guy.

“Anyway! I have their plans for the hostages all drawn up - check this out.”

One loud click of her mouse and the screen flicks to a map with colored circles and wiggly lines. Locations and routes, with little time stamps above each.

“They plan on taking the hostages in waves. If one transport goes down going in or out, they can cut their losses. Lucky for us, they’re super dumb, so I’ve found a 12 minute window where all their teams are out in the open.”

Another image, the transport routes now sporting little icons of angry faces with their tongues sticking out. They're all at various distances along their colored paths, but none of them have made it to whatever the destination is.

“If they’re hit all at once, no group will have time to warn the others,” Duke explains. “Hostages safe, bad guys caught, we all go home and pet our dogs.”

She babbles through the rest of the plan in that controlled chaos way she has, concise and insightful around a casual tone more fitting a high school presentation. The building where the hostages will be taken, every route, down to the vehicles and guns the terrorists will have.

Eventually, she runs out of pertinent information, there are no questions because she’s covered just about everything short of the humidity. Her face pops up on screen again, eyes always a bit glassy from staring at screens too long without blinking. “Lastly, don’t get shot, or I’m telling ma.”

Your captain huffs, that grin finally cracking across his solemn face.

“Do that ‘n I’ll tell her you drop f-bombs like it’s your job,” he replies.

Her mouth drops open in outrage. “It is my job!”

“Yeah? How about that stipend, huh? How much’a that ‘s going to your candy habit?”

Duke’s face flushes, but she’s got that wide smile beamed up to eleven. “Your girlfriend likes me better,” she sing-songs.

He snorts. “Which one?”

“Both,” you and Nova answer at the same time.

Her eyes narrow smugly before she signs off with a little finger wave and a “toodaloo!”

“Your sister, I take it?” Price drawls in the characteristic silence of Duke’s absence.

Your captain shoots him a sideways look. “What, you can’t see the resemblance?” he replies, dry as desert.

You cough into your arm to hide your giggles but Nova isn’t nearly as polite.

As you’re filing out with the rest of the team, you’re surprised that there aren’t calls from your former team. No overtures to justify themselves or half-assed apologies that still somehow make it sound like everything was your fault. You’re almost tempted to check over your shoulder, but you won’t give them the satisfaction of seeming interested. You just don’t trust the sudden silence, even if the captain alluded that there’s some sort of ceasefire in place. You’ve never known the 141 to bend knee to anyone but their own.

A glance at your captain and he’s noticed it too, satisfaction flicking across his face before he catches your eye. He jerks his head. You follow him back to his room, leaning your shoulder in the doorway as he loosens his belt.

“Talked to Price,” he begins.

You arch your brows. “And?”

He blows out a sigh, hands on his hips. “And he wants to talk to you. Him and the rest of the team.”

You groan. “About what?”

He shrugs. “Hell if I know, it wasn’t exactly circle time, doll.”

You roll your eyes. Those useless, cryptic…

“Hey.”

You blink, face going hot when you see the stern look on your captain’s face. Whoops.

“Sorry, sir,” you say. “That wasn’t meant to be at you, I’m just so fucking… ugh.”

“Look, I got ‘em off your back during working hours, but anytime after is outta my hands.”

You puff up, annoyed all over again with the whole situation. It couldn’t be enough for them to ostracize you back then, or try to distract you on-duty now, derailing drills. No, they want your free time too.

“I’m not gonna tell you how to handle this, alright? But maybe getting some of this shit off your chest will do you some good. Let ‘em blow smoke, say whatever you gotta say, and put all this to rest.”

You deflate, giving him a weary scowl that does nothing to deter him from closing the distance. (Not that you wanted it to.)

“Isn’t that telling me what to do?” you mumble, letting your forehead thunk against his broad chest.

“Nah, if I was tellin’ you what to do, you’d be doin’ it,” he chuckles. “If you don’t want nothin’ to do with ‘em, you can spend every night in here for all I care. Up to you.”

You’re only putting up resistance because you know he’s right, it’s just not what you want. It’s easier and simpler to be pissed off and short-tempered with the 141. Safer, in a way.

But there’s no getting any safer, in any sense of the word. Worst thing any of them can say is something you already know, or something that isn’t true. You’ve got your own team for support regardless.

“I hate when you’re right,” you grump.

He smooths a hand through your hair. “If that were true, you’d hate me all the time.”

You nip him in retaliation; he tugs a lock of hair for the trouble.

This is home, you think. Your captain. Nova, Nikto, Keegan. Doesn’t matter where in the world you are, they’re your present and your future. Knowing that, the pain and uncertainty of the past are just ghosts. It’s time to put them to rest like one.

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Masterlist

[slashisms]

𝓦𝓘𝓝𝓝𝓔𝓡 𝓣𝓐𝓚𝓔𝓢 𝓐𝓛𝓛;

ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧＳ: Billy Loomis x Reader x Stu Macher

ＲＡＴＩＮＧ: E

ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ: MINORS DNI, all characters are 18+. dub-con, but not really, spanking, name-calling, overstimulation, (un)protected sex, anal, etc.

ＷＯＲＤ ＣＯＵＮＴ: 6k

ＳＵＭＭＡＲＹ: Billy and Stu have a disagreement regarding your sex life.

Ａ/Ｎ: special thanks to @blackterrae who sent me a lovely ask that pretty much motivated this fic.

Your relationship with Tatum and Sidney was cordial, for all its ambiguity. You challenge anyone to think of a fitting adjective for the person who unknowingly stole your boyfriend, but saved your life in the process because said boyfriend was planning to kill you gruesomely. None of the questions raised by Billy and Stu’s seemingly random decision to dump both their girlfriends one day mattered once the bodies started dropping.

You were supposed to be their first victim, a red herring before Casey Becker’s murder, but after a failed attempt neither of them will cop to– they decided to pursue you instead. The timeline had been notably suspicious and eventually led to your discovery of their ‘extracurricular’ activity.

With the amount of convincing it took to get them to direct their murderous intentions towards Billy’s adulterous father and stage the whole thing as a murder-suicide with Neil Prescott as the culprit, you figure that sort of makes up for your part in the breakup. When Sidney and Tatum got together some time later, you were hoping for an opportunity to move past any lingering awkwardness.

Mentioning it to Billy and Stu was probably a mistake. They could care less about maintaining boundaries with an ex and considering how Stu’s last relationship ended, they probably thought they were doing the girls a favor by giving them a chance to befriend you. It would move them to the bottom of Billy and Stu’s list of potential victims, at least for a while.

A few weeks after you bring it up, they suggest you go to Sidney’s place to hang out. Perhaps you had been a little naive in thinking the two of them would agree to spend time with their exes’ new girlfriend without any hidden motives. Taking one girl’s boyfriend is bad, but taking two is downright sleazy. You should have been more wary of payback, especially since they knew exactly what pushed your boyfriends’ buttons.

Honestly, it would have been less exhausting if they hazed you to hash things out.

It starts after the end of the gore fest Billy forced everyone to watch. You’re too wrapped up in their flirting to notice the way Sidney and Tatum glance at you before sharing a long look. Tatum yawns dramatically, reaching for the remote to pause the credits with a bored expression. “I think that’s enough sex and stabbing,” she says, rising from the couch and wandering to the kitchen. “Let’s do something fun!”

Sidney rolls her eyes as you try to get Billy and Stu to take their hands off of you long enough to pay attention to the blonde. The two finally settle down when you pinch them in the side, fixing them with a look that has them heeling like two trained dogs. She’s reluctantly impressed by your handling and becoming more convinced that you’ll be fine after they’re done stirring the pot. Tatum returns with a bottle of liquor, swinging it triumphantly as Sidney shakes her head in feigned disapproval. “It’s not a party without vodka!” 

Before you can ask her what she means, the doorbell rings. Sidney gets up to answer it while Tatum silences your protests, tugging you out of Billy and Stu’s arms as voices begin echoing from the entrance way. Stu laughs and Billy smirks at the look of betrayal you give them as she pulls you towards the stairs. Your eyes widen at the crowd of people suddenly swarming the front door, catching a glimpse of Sidney speaking with a nervous looking Randy before handing him a twenty dollar bill.

The next thirty minutes is spent fending off Tatum’s attempts to ply you with vodka and put you in increasingly revealing outfits as she applies mascara and lip-gloss to you while lamenting not having any foundation in your shade. 

You compromise on two shots and a tastefully revealing pleated skirt and crop top before she leaves you to arrange your hair to your liking. Billy and Stu are standing outside like two pathetic puppies when she opens the door and Tatum rolls her eyes. You were wasted on these idiots, she thinks before seeking out her girlfriend. 

Stu wraps his arms around your waist while Billy approaches you, tilting your chin as you pout up at him. “Way to give me a heads up,” you gripe. 

Billy tuts softly, moving your head back and forth as he peers at you. “And give you a chance to run? No way,” he replies, pressing a kiss to your glossy lips. 

“Don’t worry, babe, we won’t leave your side,” Stu promises

Unbeknownst to you, Tatum and Sidney were counting on it. 

They hover by your side like two gargoyles for the duration of the party, guarding your drink as you become progressively tipsier. By your third (and last) drink, you’re ripe for the picking when someone exclaims, “Let’s play truth of dare!” 

You tug your reluctant boyfriends along, sitting on the couch with one of them on either side of you. The game is fairly innocuous for the first round, prepubescent memories or equally embarrassing dares before it delves into raunchier topics. Billy and Stu quickly become bored of torturing their classmates, a direct contrast to the lovey dovey way they treat you that Randy points out with accusatory gagging motions. 

“I’ve got a truth for you Randy,” Billy says, a smug grin on his face. “Are you a nerd because you’re a virgin or a virgin because you’re a nerd?” 

Stu snickers into your neck, kissing your skin in a pointedly mocking manner as you fight down the blush rushing to your face. Randy would usually slink away from this confrontation with his tail between his legs or backtrack with his belly up, but he stands his ground with an uncharacteristic confidence. “I’ve got one too, not for you kind sir, but for our Juliet here,” he says, setting you on edge. “Is there a ranking system to your Romeos or are you left twice as disappointed?” 

When you consider Randy’s part in provoking Billy later, you really think he should have asked for more than twenty dollars to take the beating the two of them dole out. You try to stop him when he rises from the couch, but he shakes you off easily as Stu’s playful grin falls and he follows suit, stalking towards Randy. You sigh when Billy grips Randy’s collar and delivers two blows to his face with the back of his hand without a word, pushing him into Stu’s waiting arms. The party goes wild as the two heft him over their shoulders, tossing him into a rowdy crowd surf that ends with him crashing onto the coffee table. 

Yet as the two slink back to your side, the seed has already been planted. You’re guiltily holding back laughter while they size the other up, oblivious to the signals that you should address the issue and drunk enough to believe that kicking Randy’s ass has resolved everything. You miss the silent communication that seals your fate: an annoyed quirk of Billy’s brow, an obnoxious grin from Stu and a glance at you and the exit. “C’mon, let’s ditch this snooze fest,” Stu insists, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

Your protests are quelled by the look Billy gives you, though it doesn’t take long for you to realize something’s up as they silently escort you back to the car. Billy gets in the back with you, barely closing the door before he’s pushing you back onto the leather seat. Stu starts the car while Billy climbs on top of you, hands roaming over your body to grope at your curves. His voice is deceptively calm when he speaks. “Hey, babe,” he says, pressing a biting kiss to your neck. “What did you think about that loser’s question?” 

You blink, brain crashing to a halt as Billy makes room for himself between your thighs. The two were definitely different, but they were plenty skilled at satisfying you that it never occurred to you to compare the two. From the way Billy stares at you, brown eyes glinting dangerously, he’s expecting an answer. “Uh, I think he was pretty stupid to ask something like that without wearing a cup,” you reply, trying to diffuse the thick tension in the air.

He smirks, tilting his head to the side as his hand moves to the edge of your skirt, slipping under it as he hums softly. “Well it’s started a debate that only you can solve,” he says. “Stuart here thinks he screws you better than I do.” 

Your breath catches as he pinches the lace band of your panties, snapping it against your skin. His words ignite a fire in your gut kindled by the thumb he’s swiping back and forth over your pulsing core. He presses a kiss to your mouth before biting meanly on your earlobe. “He thinks he fucks this pussy better than I do,” he whispers in your ear, using two fingers to caress your slippery vulva. 

You let out a weak cry when he parts your lips, rubbing tiny circles over your clit as he sucks a bruise into your neck. “I don’t think words are gonna get through to that type of delusion,” he says, ignoring Stu’s scoff. “So we’re gonna settle this tonight.” 

You have a moment to cope with the dread his words dredge up, the idea of being chewed up like a toy to settle a score makes you wish Randy never opened his big mouth. Billy’s fingertip grazing your entrance distracts you from your thoughts as trails his lips over your chest. “Make sure to keep track, princess,” he orders. “I’ll be taking your first.” 

Your hands grip at the seat as he continues kissing his way down your body before lifting your skirt. He pushes your knees apart, tugging off your panties and tossing them up in Stu’s direction. Billy rolls his eyes when he sees him bring the moist fabric to his face and inhale with a throaty groan. You feel the shift of tires on gravel under your head as the car swerves and Billy curses, striking the blond on the back of the head.

Despite his warning to pay attention, Billy cups both of your tits roughly in his palms and tugs on your top and bra to create an enticing image that threatens to divert Stu’s gaze from the road all over again. The drive to his place feels like it takes forever as Stu has to listen to Billy eat you out. He can picture the way the other is trailing kisses up your thighs—and bites, judging by your yelp, before lapping at your opening, swiping his tongue over your twitching hole.

He spits on your clit, sucking it into his mouth with a messy slurping sound and licking at you with exaggerated noises. Stu grips the steering wheel until his knuckles ache at your whiny moans and Billy’s encouragement, his cock painfully tight in his jeans as it throbs against his zipper. “That’s it, pretty girl,” he hears Billy murmur after dragging his tongue over your slit for the nth time, groaning at your taste. “Just relax and cum for me.” 

Stu’s doing twenty-five over the speed limit and he’s ran the three last red lights, but it’s worth it when he finally pulls into his stupidly long driveway. Once the car’s in park, he whips his head around to see Billy’s hand moving under your skirt as he sinks his middle and pointer finger inside you to the knuckle. His fingers press into your quivering walls as he mouths lazily at your clit, scissoring you open.

You back arches, overwhelmed by the constant stimulation to your sensitive bundle as his ruthless fingers dig into your body. You thrash weakly underneath Billy as he brings you to orgasm with just his tongue and two fingers, trembling thighs wrapped around his head. Stu grinds his teeth when Billy pulls back, smirking at him triumphantly as he removes his fingers from your body and sucks them into his mouth. “That’s one for me,” he jeers.  

“Fuck off,” Stu says, climbing over the seat and launching himself at him. 

You’re too busy catching your breath to care about the ensuing scuffle, rolling over as they begin trading blows. They don’t pull any punches either, going at it like wild dogs. In the enclosed space, Stu has the advantage and he catches Billy off guard with a hand in his jeans and a biting kiss. He groans as Stu grips his erection, roughly thumbing the head as he pins him to the car door.

The brunet can only watch as Stu fumbles for the handle, nuzzling Billy’s chin with his own and grinning at the mix of fury and arousal in his brown eyes. “My turn,” he whispers, opening the door and shoving him out before locking the car.

“Uh, was that such a good idea?” You ask, glancing at Billy, who’s banging on the window and cursing profusely. 

Stu turns to you, grin stretching across his face. “Focus on me, babe,” he orders. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard, that shit looked weak.” 

Before you can raise any concerns, Stu’s tongue is in your mouth, filling it with the coppery taste of blood. He grips both of your knees and pulls them apart, gazing down at you like he couldn’t care less that you were ruining his seats. One of his hands reaches out to glide through the mess on your thighs, coating his fingers before pushing two inside you. “As if he’s better at making you cum,” he grumbles, hooking his fingers and scraping them along your walls. “Look at how your pussy is sucking me in, she clearly likes me best.” 

You shudder, annoyed at how he manages to make his petulant whining sexy and Stu leans forward, smashing his lips to yours. “I’m gonna show you and him,” he growls. “Who owns this fucking pussy.” 

You gasp into his mouth as he fucks his fingers deeper into your body, smirking when you tighten around him. He leers at your bouncing chest, biting harshly at your nipple and sucking it into his mouth. You dimly hear the sound of the car unlocking as he moves on to the other nipple, but Stu just snickers. 

Luckily, Billy seems to have cooled off by the time he climbs in the front seat, opting to observe the way you fall apart under Stu. The man in question turns to him, pushing a third finger past your entrance with a satisfied grunt. He pounds into you with relentless force, licking his lips as he taunts, “I don’t even need to touch her clit to get her like this.” 

Stu uses his other hand to pin your flailing body down, smirking at the sob you let out when he does graze your clit. “Watch closely and take notes,” he says, the words nearly drowned out by your moans. 

If you didn’t look so debauched, there would definitely be another fight breaking out, but Billy just rolls his eyes, taking in your blissed out expression with an obsessive gleam in his eye. The spirit of competition was at its peak and you were in for a long night.

Convincing them not to completely wreck Stu’s car takes long enough that you’re able to regain some semblance of control. Not enough to stop Stu from tossing you over his shoulder and carrying you inside, but at least he takes you to his bedroom instead of the nearest flat surface in his house. There’s a temporary truce as your boyfriends strip away every article of clothing, leaving you and them bare.

Before they can start arguing about who’s next, you insist they cooperate before you dry up at their incessant bickering so they stick to alternating. Billy hovers over you, thick cock bobbing between his legs as the flushed tip leaks precum while Stu hovers in the back, stroking himself to relieve his tension. “He thinks he’s doing you a favor by ignoring your sweet spot, baby girl,” Billy sighs, giving you an apologetic kiss on your forehead. “Let me show him what that cute little clit’s for.” 

Billy slides down your body, grabbing your ankles and placing them on his shoulders as he moves forward. His hands cup your thighs and your cunt throbs under his stare, legs quaking when his thumbs spread your folds, revealing your glistening bud. His tongue darts out, flicking over it with pointed swipes as you bite your lip to suppress a wanton moan.

It doesn’t take long for him to work you to your peak, the simmering fire in your gut from your two orgasms easily paving the way to a third as he slurps at your clit before nudging at your opening. You let out a moan when he pushes past your entrance, groaning at the way you tighten around his tongue. His fingers come to play sloppily with your clit, the sound echoing in the room as he scoops you open. He hums in approval when you scream his name, pinching your clit between his fingers to make you scream louder.

Billy grinds against the edge of the bed as he gulps down your slick, sealing his lips over your cunt as he inches his tongue deeper. Stu curses as you toss your head back, eyes rolling back to your skull as Billy stops pinching your clit to strike it with a loud ‘smack!’ You whine as he pulls his hand back, landing a wet slap directly to the over sensitive bud. He pulls you further into his face and buries his nose in your mound, watching your tits bounce as you rut your hips against him.

He loves watching you chase your pleasure, forgetting to be self-conscious about how you look the closer you get. Your orgasm catches you off guard, the coil in your gut snapping after Billy delivers three stinging swats to your pussy, heat bursting between your legs as you weep. “Fuck!” You shout, convulsing as you gush into Billy’s mouth. 

Billy moans, slurping your cum into his mouth with his tongue as the rest drips down his face and onto the sheets. He reluctantly pulls away after a few more kisses to your throbbing clit and Stu approaches, staring down at your twitching body with a possessive gaze. Your heart pounds when they switch places, Stu prowling over you as his eyes dart over your face, breasts, and cunt. His fingers swipe over your puffy labia, hooking one inside to feel your walls ripple with the aftershocks.

Normally they would have been fucking you silly at this point, but Stu is determined to eat you out better than Billy, ignoring the painfully hard erection jutting against his belly. Though he can’t resist grabbing your ankles and pushing them towards your ears, lining his body up with yours to nudge his cock against your clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he sighs, tongue lolling out. “I’m gonna fucking destroy this pussy.” 

You groan at his words, staring at him with bleary eyes as he pulls back, sliding his hands down to cup the meat of your thighs. He holds you in place as he bends down to press his lips to your vulva, kissing it the same way he does your mouth, forcefully and with too much tongue. It feels like you’re being roasted alive as your ankles tremble by your face, your nerves overloaded as he pays almost punishing attention to your clit. 

After your third orgasm, the stimulation is almost too much. “Please, no more,” you plead. “Just fuck me already.” 

Billy curses behind you, the sound of you begging for their cocks has always been a weakness of theirs. Stu clicks his tongue, squeezing your thighs until you whimper softly. “Just be quiet and cum,” he orders, nibbling at the engorged bud. 

You have no choice but to obey, Stu’s iron grip on your thighs preventing you from moving an inch as he makes out with your clit, curling his lips around it and sucking as his thick tongue swats back and forth, making you squeal. One of your thighs falls onto his shoulder as he slides a hand to your entrance, poking and prodding before pushing three fingers in at once, smirking at the undignified howl you let out as he forces your body open.

He spreads his fingers, moaning at the feeling of your body giving way to his hand. You take in a shuddering breath as another orgasm builds, your clit pulsing against his tongue as he forces it out of you. Maybe that’s why it feels different and your brow furrows as you struggle to gather your wits to warn Stu. “W-wait, it-it feels like—”

You gasp as a hand covers your mouth, gaze flickering to where Billy is hovering over you, preventing any further arguments. You’re less than an active participant at the moment, they just want you to lay there and let them make you feel good. Your eyes squeeze shut as your climax crashes into you like an electric shock, leaving you jerking and squirming in Stu’s grip. 

“Oh fuck, dude, she just squirted,” Stu says with a shit-eating grin, pulling away with your cum dripping down his chin. “Shouldn’t that count for two?”

“Fuck no!”

“C’mon, you scared you can’t make her do it?”

You’re. Fucked. 

Stu cackles, swiping his tongue over the remnants of your cum on his face as Billy pushes him out of the way. “You’re gonna have to replace this shitty mattress,” he threatens as they swap spots.

Billy cups your cheek, glaring down at you like it's your fault they’ve reduced you to an overstimulated wreck. His other hand jerks himself off slowly, eyes moving from your face to your trembling body. “Look at you, cumming so easily after begging to stop,” he sneers. “I’m gonna pound this desperate little cunt until you’re begging for my cock.”

Despite his vicious words, he kisses you gently, pushing his tongue into your mouth until you taste yourself. He kisses down your neck and both of you groan when he braces his arms on either side of you, sliding his cock through your folds with slow rocking motions. “Motherfucker thinks I can’t make this pussy squirt,” he hisses, gripping his cock and pushing the bulbous tip inside you. “Just wait, you’re gonna be gushing around my cock.” 

You’re speared open as Billy sheathes himself inside of you in a single motion, pushing past any resistance with a groan. He sucks in a breath at the feeling of your walls clinging to every ridge and vein of his cock, slipping in easily after Stu’s fucked you open. His fists grip the sheets as he pulls out, slamming back in with a grunt.

His pace is savage as his hips slap against yours, carving a space in your body as he kisses you to smother your screams. Your back arches and your hands slap at his chest, scratching your nails down his skin when he grinds against that spongy knot of your cervix. Billy’s hand comes up to your nape and tilts your head, tapping your cheek. Your eyes flutter open, meeting his piercing gaze. “Look. Look at this greedy fucking cunt,” he orders, until you’re both staring at where his cock is disappearing inside you. “She’s gripping me so fucking hard, this tight little pussy doesn’t want to let me go.”

His hips never falter as he pummels into your body, his thrusts rocking the mattress until it’s creaking obnoxiously in concord with the ‘shlickshlickshlick’ of his cock thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. It’s impossible to gather a coherent thought as you watch and listen to the symphony of your bodies, but you vaguely hear yourself telling him you love it, begging him to go harder, deeper, to cum inside you so you can feel it.

You’ll say anything as long as he keeps delivering blazing jolts of ecstasy to your cunt, rendering any chance you’ve got at higher order thinking futile. Billy laughs at the glassy, dazed expression on your face as you fall apart underneath him. “Fucking cock drunk already, huh?” He laughs. “I’ll give you every goddamn inch since you want it so bad.”

He nuzzles closer to you to stare into your eyes, pulling your legs around his waist and bringing you in to meet his hips. You shake your head when he brings his thumb to your swollen clit, moaning at the way you milk his cock when he applies the slightest pressure. He squeezes your lips into a pout, shaking you like a rag doll when your eyes start to shut. “Don’t you dare close your eyes, you fucking slut,” he hisses. “You’re gonna remember who’s making you cum like this.”

You can’t even remember your own name, mouth dropping open in a silent gasp as drool slides down your chin and tears pool in your eyes. They spill over onto your cheeks, dark tracks of mascara falling onto the sheets as Billy pinches and strokes your clit. “Aw, you’re such a crybaby,” he teases. “Beg me and I’ll stop.”

“Please, please, please stop,” you comply immediately. “I can’t–can’t take anymore, it hurts.”

“Good girl, you’re so pretty when you beg,” Billy coos with feigned sympathy before drawing in and out of you until it feels like you, or the bed frame. is going to break. You gasp, staring at him with wide eyes when he pulls out to the tip, tapping it against your clit before angling his cock back at your entrance. “Billy, you promised!” You whimper, glaring at him with tear stained lashes.

“I lied,” he says before slamming back in, listening to you cry out. 

He fucks you hard and fast, ignoring your hiccuping pleas as his fingertips glide over your clit mercilessly. Billy grunts with every roll of his hips, covering your mouth as he plants his feet in the mattress and jackhammers against your g-spot, sparks shooting up your spine until your pussy undulates deliciously against every curve of his cock.

Billy curses when your teeth sink into his palm as you finally cum, eyes rolling back into your skull. His hips keep moving even as you clench around him, jaw aching as he fucks you through your orgasm. “C’mon, give it to me,” he growls, brutalizing your walls. “Soak my fucking cock, nasty girl.”

Your fifth orgasm is an out of body experience, your throat scraped raw as you yell against his palm, lower body exploding in a rush of slickness. “That’s it, baby,” he moans, balls tightening as he ruts his cock into your cervix before spilling inside you. 

You shudder at the warmth of his cum, moaning into the kiss he gives you as you come down. Billy slips out of you, reluctantly allowing an impatient Stu to take your place. You blink at the sensation of his shadow falling over you, vision blurry with tears as you look up at his dark expression. “Shit, babe,” he breathes softly, pupils blown as he caresses your overwrought form. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

You would laugh at the idea of being sexy while laying there like a wet noodle if you could manage to gather any air in your lungs. Stu leans forward, nuzzling your chest before swiping his tongue over your nipple. He grabs your trembling thighs and pulls your limp body into his lap, tongue moving over your chest and collarbone, groaning at the taste of your sweat. He cups your face with both of his hands, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he grinds against your pussy.

Stu shivers at the feeling of cum dripping onto his cock, the wet glide of your bodies finally providing some relief to the ache in his balls. Watching Billy fucking you without joining in was torture and his patience is wearing thin. He gives you a moment to catch your breath then slides his hands down to your thighs, lifting you slightly in the air before dropping you straight onto his cock. 

He laughs at the squeal you let out as your head knocks against his shoulder and your body curls into his chest, practically strangling his cock. He grips the globes of your ass, yanking you off and slamming you back down. Stu fucks into you like a rabid animal, teeth pulled back into a snarl as he bites and sucks at your neck.

He grins as you sob into his shoulder, impaling you on his cock with a loud squelching noise before jerking your hips up and down to meet his, shivering at the sensation of thrusting into your cum-filled hole. “Yeah, it’s good, huh?” He taunts. “Then take it, take it–take it all, you fucking bitch.”

He bounces you in his lap like a flesh-light, grinning at Billy as he spreads your cheeks wide enough to reveal your puckered asshole. The brunette’s gaze is drawn to the winking flesh as Stu inches one of his slender fingers towards it, pulling a nervous whine from you. “We should fuck you here too,” he purrs. “A whore like you isn’t satisfied until all your holes are filled.”

You moan softly and Stu smirks, smacking your ass and watching the flesh jiggle reverently. You let out an anguished cry of pleasure when he swipes his hands through the mess of cum dripping from your cunt to slick up a finger and slips it past the tight ring of muscle, curving his finger into your ass. You nearly bite down on your tongue when he sinks in a second finger, scissoring them using Billy’s cum as lube.

Stu groans as your entire body locks up, squeezing around him in a vice-like grip as you’re pushed to the edge from being penetrated at the same time. He hitches your hips into his, grinding deep into your gummy g-spot. You’d never thought you’d despair at the thought of your clit being touched but when he lets go of your hip to paw at the nub furiously, you think you start crying again. 

“Billy was right. You are a crybaby,” Stu coos, swiping his tongue over your salty tears. “Too bad it only makes me wanna see you cry harder.” 

You have to hold onto his shoulders or risk toppling over as he pounds into you, his thighs quaking as he propels his hips into yours. Your entire body is starting to feel like an exposed nerve, overloaded with a depth of sensory information that you can only process by crying out lewdly and drooling onto Stu’s skin. 

“Oh fuck, here it comes,” Stu hisses, informing you of your orgasm before you even realize it’s approaching. “Such a selfish pussy, cumming all by yourself. I guess we’ll see if you break the record tonight.”

You claw at his shoulders, back bowed and cunt pulsing around his cock as you quiver in his lap, drenching his waist as stars erupt behind your eyelids. You barely register the sound of Stu and Billy’s voices, an imploring murmur from Stu and a warning hiss from Billy is your only warning before you feel Billy’s length poking at your asshole.

You let out a weak protest that Stu hushes. “Billy wants to feel how tight you are, sweetheart, just let him put the tip in,” he croons softly, slipping his fingers out so Billy can slide the mushroom head of his cock into your body. 

“Fuck,” Billy sighs, tossing his head back at the heat enveloping him. “I love this slutty body, it’s still so tight even when we fuck you stupid.”

He pauses, a bruising grip on your hip and jaw clenched as Stu rocks your body back onto his. He gasps as you slowly sink onto him, moaning with every jerk of Stu’s length against the thin barrier of flesh separating them in your body. He swears, brows furrowing as you choke back a pitiful wail when another orgasm follows immediately, torn out of you almost involuntarily from their ruthless treatment. “Shit, she’s coming again,” Stu chuckles, pinching your clit as you whine. “I guess we’ll share credit for this one, but I’m still in the lead.” 

Billy kisses his teeth, pushing you further down as his breath catches at the friction of their cocks fucking in and out of you. He kisses your nape before biting at your shoulder. “How many times is that, princess?” He questions, gripping your chin and turning your face towards him. 

They both moan at the spaced out expression you’re wearing and Billy shakes your head to get your attention, waiting for your teary eyes to slide over to his face. “How many times did this filthy pussy cum, huh?” He repeats. “I told you to keep track, didn’t I, princess?”

You shake your head, burying your face in Billy’s palm, mumbling, “Don’t know, can’t remember, please, I can’t take anymore.”  

Billy slaps your ass until his palm stings, cursing when you seize around him. “I asked you to do one fucking thing,” he snaps, relishing in your pained mewl. “Dumb whore can’t even count when we’re fucking her.” 

Oh no. You’re starting to feel like a minor villain about to be conquered through the power of friendship, the preclude to your defeat stemming from the epiphany of two rivals that cooperation will yield better results.

Torturing others was a pastime that brought Stu and Billy together and you were no exception. If your tongue wasn’t heavy as lead in your mouth, you’d try to say something to dissuade them from doing so at any cost, but you can only hold pathetically onto Stu and hope for the best. 

“The fuck does a virgin like Randy know?” Billy growls, gripping your waist and lifting you off of their cocks before slamming you back down. “You love fucking both of us, don’t you? You cum harder when we paint your insides together.” 

Okay, maybe this was an opportunity for a quick resolution. You nod emphatically, eeking out breathless ‘uh huh’s and ‘mhmm’s that seem to satisfy Billy. You can only hope they’ll forget the competition and fuck you to completion together because you couldn’t take much more.

Stu’s breath trembles and his thighs tense as he covers Billy’s hands on your hips and shoves his cock into the hilt, sliding the hand on your clit to your stomach. “Fuck, you feel that, baby?” He moans. “I’m gonna cum here, right in this thirsty womb.”

You take a moment to be grateful for birth control as Stu buries himself in your cunt, pulsing one last time before shooting inside, moaning as Billy’s cock grinds into his from behind. You’re almost convinced that you succeeded in distracting them when they both slip out of you with a groan and Stu maneuvers you gently into Billy’s chest before getting off of the mattress.

Billy shifts your bodies off the undeniably soaked sheets to a dry spot and tangles your legs together. Stu grabs a water bottle from his mini fridge and your eyes open when you hear the twist of the cap. He holds the bottle to your lips until you gulp down half of it before setting it on the nightstand.

Your eyes widen as he pulls out a condom, glancing at Billy who takes it from him with a Cheshire grin. You watch as he tears the packet open with his teeth before sliding the condom over his throbbing cock, gripping it at the base. “We still have to settle this fair and square,” he says at your doe eyed gaze, lining himself up with your swollen pussy. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t lend each other a hand. Every magician needs an assistant, right babe?” 

Okay, so you’ve been sufficiently fucked over by two scheming lesbians, but it’s nothing less than what you deserve.