#trigger warnings all over the place

[b1zmuth]

The Mishaps of SITE:DD | Obey Me! x Reader

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[File 2] \\ 5K words

SC \\ Monsters, gore, the SCP foundation, you date everyone ig… slight angst but with a happy ending, fluff, sci-fi, experimenting, mentioned suicide, everyone is a little off their rocker, you are NOT innocent!! I'll add more tags later..

TL;DR - Think the SCP Foundation, but you are the researcher who unfortunately gets assigned to Seven Keter classified objects. 

EXTREME TW's : graphic depictions of vomiting and death smelling objects + small suicide mentioning // be extremely wary of this when reading! thanks!

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Open FILE.[FOLDER_2]? > Please select one option. (Yes/Yes) . . . FILE.[FOLDER_2] Opening.. Please wait.

Oh, brother.

Now you were seriously in for it.

Just imagine; you decided to take a risky gamble on some paperwork that you didn't read thoroughly- ended up signing some… papers, that ended up with you viciously hurling the contents of your lunch right back up your windpipe and into the toilet.

Seriously! You were so screwed- unbelievably at that.

Due to your risky signage of those papers, you accidentally signed off on volunteering with a partner for ‘’SCP EXPERIMENTATIONS’’, which translated to ‘’Oh yeah btw we don't have enough on-fielders to sacrifice so heres a volunteering sheet with 4x the pay if you sign up and you have zero guarantee of not being assigned to a keter class so if you sign off on this your kinda fucked ngl lmao’’

And there goes another chunk of your overpriced egg and cheese sandwich.

‘’You are expendable.’’

‘’Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! I should have never took- that f-FUCKING risk, of course, Jesus Christ himself damns me to an early d-death by being slaughtered by a SCP. just fantastic! I should start writing a will- yes, yes! Write a will… but to who? I don't have any family… oh fuck me! Everything seems to get worse by the second in this hellhole!’’ You practically whisper-shouted at yourself, causing anyone who happened to pass by the private bathroom to start questioning your mental sanity- your hot tears and snot dripping down your face and dropping into the toilet, causing your somewhat visible reflection to ripple in the murky water- the ringing in your ears seeming to increase in volume with every shaky breath you managed to suck in.

“If only you didn’t take that risk. You know, this is all your fault.’’

You looked at your messy reflection, watching your own reflection slowly ripple into an undistinguishable mess of swirls and blobs of food- the pungent smell filling your nostrils and causing you to gag and quickly back up away from the toilet, a cold sweat rushing all over your body. ‘’Maybe you're right. It is my fault.’’ you let the tears fall once more, not even attempting to wipe your face for some type of decency if someone were to walk in.

‘’This is my penance for what I’ve done.’’ ‘’This is your penance for what you’ve done.’’

. . . Everything is getting brighter- so bright. Is this real life? . .

The door to the bathroom opens and quickly shuts- a mess of a purple and peachy-colored blob rushes in and kneels in front of you- waving a tanned…something, that you couldn’t even make out somewhere near your face- the ringing in your ears masking the already muffled voice of the purple blob- ‘’MC? God, it reeks in here- are you okay?’’

What did that walking grape say to you? This damn ringing almost wouldn't even allow the reverberated sounds of your heavy breathing to make it to your ears- you can forget about it if anyone said anything outside of your ear-’’MC! Shit- we might have to get a medic- SOLOMOOON! COME QUICK!’’

While the purple-colored grape desperately used any method to get you responsive, your mouth opened and closed repeatedly, as if you were trying to speak, but nothing audible would come out, much to your frustration, the blob still didn't catch your goldfish movements even with the way you were tugging and pulling borderline anything to catch its attention- the light was getting brighter, and your vision was starting to turn red..you guessed you wouldn’t have long before…whatever this was put you out of your misery- so in a last-ditch effort, you put all your energy into screaming your final words.

‘’TELL THIRTEEN THAT I ENTRUST EVERYTHING TO HER!’’ . . . Wow. Well, at least your figurines wouldn’t end up in a Goodwill somewhere in Timbuktu.

And that was the last thing you said, or well, what YOU remember saying before you promptly blacked out and fully embraced your incoming divine judgment and thirty-minute express Uber to the deepest pits of Hell.

The only setback to this heavenly gift was that you woke up in one of the facility med bays, the blinding white light fooling you into thinking that one of the angels in heaven accidentally ordered the wrong Uber and sent you to the wrong place, until you rubbed your eyes and noticed that you were, in fact, not in heaven- but in the one place you had been begging Jesus to take the wheel and lead you directly out of this shithole.

You groaned at the sight, nearly tearing up at the notion that you had just passed out, and didn’t suddenly keel over and die in Thirteen’s bathroom. Fuck!

Mentally cursing at the higher being that stopped you from leaving your misery, you swung yourself out of bed and made a straight B-line for the nearest exit- ‘’Uh, excuse me?! Your supposed to be in bed and resting!’’ you heard a shrill and child-like voice speak from behind you, making you turn around in surprise to reveal a blonde-haired boy with blue eyes dressed in a regular doctoral outfit- and wait just a second, now that you look at him… that's a not a boy but a whole ass KID?? My god and you thought this place was bad enough- this was just downright wrong, alongside the numerous violations of public safety and multiple HIPPA violations, having child labor added to the tall order of lawsuits would NOT look so pretty on paper- maybe it really was time to start looking for a casket..

‘’Cmon! Back to bed!’’ The blonde ordered, watching you sluggishly walk back to your bed and settle in before you turned your head and stared at him for a solid 30 seconds before he finally got uncomfortable and spoke up again- ‘’Dah! Quit staring at me! If you're really that bothered by my appearance, I'm actually thousands of years older than you!’’ he looked at you with an annoyed look and pulled up a chair next to your bed.

‘’Okay, so what I'm hearing here is that you look like a whole child, and act like one too- but supposedly you are thousands of years old…yeahhh, I don't buy it.’’ You shook your head at the kid, watching how he looked at you with utter disbelief and shock, his body lurching forward- ‘’I- You do work here, or did the impact from your head hitting the bottom of Miss Thirteen’s bathroom floor scramble your brain THAT bad?’’ the boy smirked at you before he triumphantly sat back in his seat- totally oblivious to the seething person in front of him.

You weren't going to argue with this kid anymore- the blinding whites of this room were going to drive you insane if you didn't make a hasty dash to the nearest exit within the next MINUTE.

‘’Anyways, let's go back to square one- my name is Luke, I'm an angel that was recruited by the foundation to heal injured workers!’’ He flashed you a bright smile before he got a small pack of sweets out of his pocket and handed them to you- ‘’These are medicated sweets, they’ll help ease any pain your blackout may cause later on, I highly recommend that you take one now that your fully awake.’’ you nodded your head and thanked him for the sweets, popping a wing-shaped cookie into your mouth- feeling the sugary taste of the cookie practically melt inside of your mouth, surprisingly, with no hint of medication in it- ‘’..so, Luke, how long have I been out?’’

‘’About a day, Simeon was looking after you for most of it.’’ Luke responded, tilting his head to the side as he shot a nervous smile at your terrified face- ‘’I’ll bring you a cold towel..’’ . . . . . ‘’And then I assume you blacked out…again, which led up to now- when you're finally awake… Should I buy you some nausea medicine?’’ A worried Thirteen asked you, starting to rise out of the chair Luke was previously sitting in before you passed out for the second time- ‘’Y’know, being an On-Fielder isn't as bad as your making it out to be- just look at me and Solomon for example, yes, he is a complete and utter dumbass…BUT! He wouldn’t hurt me even if i tore him limb from limb.’’ She said, giving you a gentle smile as she held your hand in hers- to which you just shook your head at the gesture.

You gave her a small giggle- ‘’The way you looked like you fought a fully grown bear two weeks ago would say otherwise- and you say he wouldn’t hurt you.’’

‘’You're not getting the point here, MC! Im saying that there's no guaranteed chance that you’ll end up with a shitty anomaly-’’ you cut off Thirteen, ‘’But there's a possibility, right? As if! I've lived the past six years, somewhat, unscathed! I’d rather not be turned into a smear on the wall by some random beedogcat hybrid thing!’’ you lurched forward and told Thirteen, who just responded with a loud sigh- ‘’You practically stressing yourself half to death worrying about getting an anomaly that could quite literally just be Safe or Elucid!’’ She shook her head and gestured towards Luke, who was floating towards the both of you with a certain look on his face.

‘’MC- Simeon just dropped off this package for you, he says HR wants a confirmation soon..’’ he looked worried as he handed the yellow package to you, running off towards the office of the med-bay to, presumably, fetch you some more medicine for your upcoming blackout.

You now held the package in your hands, gingerly running the tips of your fingers alongside the edges of it, before you shot a desperate look at Thirteen- ‘’Im gonna be so pissed if you did allat yapping in my ear just for me to be assigned a Keter class.’’ you said before you opened the package and read the contents.

SCP EXPERIMENTATION | RESULTS . . . Thank you for volunteering for [SCP EXPERIMENTATION], MC, [REDACTED]

We value your humble contribution towards a new dawn with the substitution of a looming threat to humanity as a whole, and the contribution towards further research into the nature and behaviors of SCPs.

After careful consideration and sorting of MC, [REDACTED]’s personal file, your results have culminated to bring out your full potential as an [EXPERIENCED] On-Field Researcher, and your SCP’s full potential as an addition.

Your SCP’s details are listed below.

Item #: SCP-6667 Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-6667 is highly dangerous and any movement and/or action needs to be exercised with extreme caution due to its ██████████████, ███████-███████, ███ ████ ██….…

We sincerely hope that you and your newfound SCP further our push for research and safety with SCPs, and with your considerable predicted efforts, your pay will follow suit. Please be ready to meet your newfound subject(s) at a.m. 0300 hours from the moment you receive your package. - Matt, from HR.

* NOTE: The SCP Foundation is not liable for any on-site accidents or injuries via Non-SCP Anomalies. personnel loved ones are required to claim liabilities through a Personal Insurance Firm. (PIF)

It felt like your mouth was stuck agape as you stared at the paper in horror- constantly reading over the same word like it was a religion to you; Keter, Keter, Keter Keter, Keter, Keter, Keter, Keter, Keter. A fucking Keter.

A Keter class. The damn near kill-on-sight class which few researchers ever, and you meant- a few EVER survived. You would have already been pushing your luck if you made it out on the first DAY in one piece- let alone surviving another encounter with that class.

YOU. had been assigned to a Keter.

Starting to hyperventilate you desperately tried to clamor out of your bed- only to find yourself restrained to the bed with brown leather belts. And even as you screamed for Thirteen to help you out, she only stared at you with a blank expression on her face before the corners of her lips slowly curled into a toothless smile- ‘’You are expendable.’’ ..what?

Her body starts to curl on itself- her eyes now becoming soulless and morphing into pits of the void, her smile still being toothless and making you feel uneasy whenever you looked into it- ‘’You are a disgusting human being.’’ you heard her talk to you…but her mouth never seemed to move? You were suddenly startled by her neck stretching inhumanely long, long enough to the point where her nose started brushing up against your own, her mouth that was too close for comfort permeating the gut-wrenching stench and displeasure of death, that same smell that you swore you had gotten used to.

“If only you didn’t take that risk. You know, this is all your fault.’’ Her mouth stretched open, the stench getting worse and worse until you started dry heaving due to it- your eyes betraying your mind and the rest of your body as it gazed into the inhumanly stretched mouth of the former friend you called ‘’Thirteen’’, and you screamed as you finally saw what laid inside of its throat- a pale hand, which adorned yellow painted nails, emerged from the back of its throat desperately trying to claw its way towards you- ‘’No. No. no-NO! This isn't real- THIS ISNT FUCKING REAL!’’ you screamed now trying any possible way to get out of your restraints, thrashing back and forth to wiggle your way out, sweat now adorning your body like a heavy winter coat, your hair stuck to your face while your eyes stayed glued on the thing that you once called your friend- your breathing getting harder and harder as you took in more of the putrid smell of death-

And then it all stopped.

Thirteen was gone. The smell was gone. That voice was gone.

You lay in a white room filled with a multitude of different shaped and colored flowers, a gentle breeze flowing through the room blew in your favorite scent, and your ragged breathing slowed down with every deep breath you took.

It felt calming. Like you could finally breathe fresh air for the first time.

Your shrunk pupils darted across every inch of the room, scanning it for any hint of danger before you realized that you could feel something on top of your eyelids since whatever it was slightly twitched every time you blinked- you slowly raised your hands towards your eyes, softly landing them on something..warm? It felt like a hand, but who’s hand? Are you dreaming?

‘’Come find me, MC. Save Me.’’ You felt drowsy listening to the voice, but it wasn’t like the voice from earlier- it felt more calm, less sinister…who really was this talking to you? It had to be thirteen..or that guy Luke was talking about….it..couldn’t..be any- anyone….else?

Your thoughts dragged out as you felt your muscles twitch and shake, your mind slowly shutting down- before you woke up in a cold sweat.

You now found yourself back in the Med-Bay, still sitting in this damned bed, but now you were accompanied by a gorgeous dark-skinned male with beautiful brown fringed hair which was parted on the sides of his head due to his…head wings? Is he deaf? Nevermind… He sat in the same chair that Thirteen did, his head was tilted downwards toward a clipboard which had something that you couldn’t discern written on it.

He seemed to notice your presence as he looked up from his clipboard, setting it aside on the nearby nightstand as he brushed himself off- ‘’Welcome back, MC! I assume that Luke has told you about me, no?’’ you nodded your head. ‘’That's great, do you happen to feel any discomfort or dizziness? Any worrying feelings?’’ you shook your head no- ‘’I'm happy to hear you feel fine, especially after what just happened- here, I'm giving you some fludrocortisone acetate to help with your fainting.’’ He said in a cheerful tone, smiling at you again after handing you a glass of water.

You were parched. Your mouth damn near felt like a desert with how dry it felt, so this glass of water was a blessing in disguise for you, thank god for Simeon- ‘’Don't fret too much about your meeting, you have an hour to properly rest and get yourself into a better headspace- I’ll be right here at your side if you need someone to talk to as well.’’ he said, getting up from the chair to walk over towards the nearby bookshelf. well, at least you had an hour to recollect your thoughts and mentally prepare yourself for what could be very well the last moments of your life, ‘’what a pain it's going to be loading my tomato soup-looking ass into a coffin.’’ you slightly snickered at your joke before you rolled over and your mind wandered off elsewhere, your eyes subconsciously drifting over towards the now sitting Simeon, who was quietly reading a book beside your bed.

‘’Simeon.’’ He looks over towards you, his eyebrows raised- ‘’Would it be rude to ask if you and Luke are…y’know, non-human?’’ you asked, expecting him to go ballistic on you for asking such a question- I mean, it did happen to you once before when asking an angel that Thirteen was watching over- guy got SUPER pissed that you didn’t just use common sense and look at the winds that were hidden on his back (which were covered by his long hair), god, that guy was a fucking dick now that you think back on it.

Simeon only smiled as the wings on either side of his head flapped happily- ‘’It's not rude to ask a question that has a clear answer, Luke has wings as I do but he is just too young for his wings to be fully visible!’’ you smiled back at him, happy that he wasn’t being as much of a dick like the last angel you asked this question to- ‘’How come you dont have a halo then?’’ ‘’It's too much of a problem to have floating on the back of my head, I tried to make it work but alas it ended up getting stuck trying to get through a door..’’ he shook his head whilst lowly chuckling to himself, ‘’Anyways, I'd love to keep on talking with you but I think we’re out of time here- but please don't start worrying! I specifically put in a medical request for Thirteen to accompany you during your time with your SCP…or well, Thirteen practically begged me to do something to aid with your panic attacks.’’

Your heart dropped hearing him say anything that hinted towards your looming death, but you just sucked it up since you would be with Thirteen- someone who could write out your will and put all of your figurines to good use. Simeon waved you off and shouted something along the lines of ‘’letting Luke know that you are bidding farewell!’’ with you shouting a happy ‘’See you later!’’ back at him.

The walk of shame towards the meeting room was absurd.

Totally absurd because there were people literally prancing around the main floor with whole-ass deers, frolicking around with bees, and JUMPING for joy at their newfound SCPs. The fuck?! Are you just the mayor of Frown Town or are these people actually on some type of hardcore drug? Because there is no possible way that the foundation didn't give all of these people Safe class SCPs- if they were going to do this then how come you didn't get something that wouldn’t kill me on sight?

‘’Your results have culminated to bring out your full potential as an [EXPERIENCED] On-Field Researcher’’ Right. They looked through your file to personally assign you a specific SCP.

Well, despite this unnerving fact, you pushed forward, determined to at least get a glimpse of your personal grim reaper, this fact pushed you forward with some pep in your step until you pushed open the doors to the meeting room- Matt. goddamn Matt.

Of COURSE they decided to let Matt be the tour guide for this whole shitshow- the one person you wanted to stay away from you at all times was HERE and going to be walking around with you for a solid five minutes to your new laboratory- Jesus fuck! Was the foundation that determined to get you to kill yourself?? ‘’MC! Oh, it is so, so, great to see my new favorite employee looking so delighted about their new job promotion! Come! Let's turn this frown upside down!’’ Matt said with a disgustingly cheery tone, his annoying ass smile seemed to get brighter as your frown drooped even more as he grabbed your hand and guided you towards your gravestone- I'm sure you will looooooove your new SCP! He is very docile and kind-hearted, his only setback is that he sleeps a ton, so getting research out of him will SURELY be a hassle!’’ he let go of your hand and twirled a bit before grabbing your hand, again, and further leading you to the airlocked door of your new laboratory.

Okay, now you were convinced that everyone was on this newfound hardcore drug and that you were the only sane fucker in the facility- because what fucking Keter class is DOCILE and KIND-HEARTED? Either Matt is a complete and utter dumbass who is totally oblivious to the most important aspect of his job or he genuinely didn’t know about the class you were assigned to.

Matt opened the door for you, ushering you inside as he explained the password system to your lab, giving you the code on a sticky note, and walking over to a panel that had several buttons on it as he flicked on a button which turned on the lights in the ‘’research station’’ as he calls it before he beckoned you over to him- ‘’And now for the grand reveal..! I, Matt, will be giving MC the honor of revealing their SCP!’’ he squealed, looking at you with a ‘’Hurry up and push that button’’ look as you just sighed and flicked on the switch next to the one he already turned on- with the lights slowly turning on to reveal a… Cow? No, human-cow cosplaying human curled up in the corner? What??

‘’Okay Matt, I'm going to be straight with you- what in the actual fuck is this? This isn't an SCP, it's some random guy cosplaying a cow that you plucked out of an anime convention!’’ You looked at Matt with a dumbfounded look as you looked back at the sleeping cow-cosplaying man before looking back at Matt- ‘’Oh yes it is, MC, that is in fact not a human but an SCP, he’s just assuming a human-like form to fool the task force into thinking he is docile. Not saying that he is violent, he just seems to not like his sleeping to be disturbed.’’ did Matt think you were that stupid? ‘’Matt, what the actual fuck are you talking about? ‘’Oh YeAh, He’S DoCiLe!’’ THAT MOTHERFUCKER IS ASSUMING A FORM TO FOOL PEOPLE INTO COMING INTO HIS ENCLOSURE! No, and I mean NO docile ANYTHING assumes a form to lure people into its habitat! How the hell can you actually look me in my face and tell me that it's DOCILE?!’’ you angrily pointed towards the still sleeping cowman

Matt's tone darkened, ‘’Let's not forget our positions here, or do you really want a black mark that badly? Either way, you have a job to do- valuable research to provide to the Foundation, i highly suggest you start moving to assess the SCP’s danger level- now, please. He told you, handing you a briefing file that you didn’t even know he had with him- your eyes quickly scanning over the material of said file, landing on one specific word before you looked up and stared into the soul of poor Matt.

It's like the fucker wanted you eliminated and wiped off of the face of the earth at his earliest convenience! This was downright ridiculous- get into the enclosure WITH a demon Keter class? Are you serious? fuuuuuck that.

You pinched the bridge of your nose in annoyance, ‘’Oh godfuckingdammit! Give me a break! A COW! A COW!! A DEMON COW AT THAT! You’ve got to be joking- seriously! If I walk in that THING’s enclosure I'm going to be not pushing 26 but fuckin’ DAISIES! Matt, I don't think you understand the problem here, You're putting me in the same room as a KETER- do you want me dead that bad?’’

Matt shook his head- ‘’Get in the enclosure, the black mark doesn't argue back nor does the rest of HR, after all, they will side with me, once again.’’

‘’Fuck you, Matt.’’ You said whilst angrily punching in the code to the enclosure- cautiously walking into the brightly lit room as you had a one-man staredown with the cow before you softly tapped your foot, attempting to wake it without immediately being torn limb from limb- and somehow you succeeded- having a grumbling, somewhat pissed, cow look at you like you just kicked a puppy and napalmed an orphanage, and kicked someone's grandma down a flight of stairs- god how much you missed the Med-Bay now…

Now that you could get a clear view of your short-time good ol’ buddy and pal- you could see his outfit clearly; somewhat blue hair with white streaks on the tips, a tired look adorning his face, and a blue jacket with a hood that he paired with an olive colored pair of pants, with damn near knee high brown boots- what in the actual fuck was this guy wearing? Damn, where did they FIND this man?

‘’What do you want?’’

What in the fuck- who said that? You thought to yourself, glancing back to an empty lab with no Matt in sight- oh that fucker REALLY wanted you dead. ‘’Fucking Matt…’’

Was it that voice that was nagging you about being a bad person and this that and the third earlier? Maybe it was… him?

‘’Was that you who just said that?’’ you stared at the cow who was lying down on the ground, watching it for any movement in its mouth before you heard the voice again- ‘’Yes, now answer my question already.’’- were you actually going schizophrenic or something? Because you were just staring at his mouth and didn't move one bit when you heard the voice- ‘’The fuck? Are you talking telepathically?’’ you asked the cow, only to get a now angry response- ‘’Are you deaf? Or just willfully being ignorant? Do you have zero sense of danger?’’

That's right, that cow was asking you to answer its question- ‘’I want the same thing as you do, for me to get the fuck outta here. I don't know if you saw that guy back there but he FORCED me to be in here with you.’’ You gestured to the empty room across from the both of you before you noticed something small and pink on the glass window- and you couldn’t get to it due to the walking threat lying down in front of you, especially the fact that any sudden movement could aggravate this guy and send you 6ft under, pushing daisies.

‘’So you're stuck here too, that guy wrote on that paper something about how he locked the doors for bonding time’’ The cow gestured towards the pink paper that was on the window, and then looked back at you.

Without missing a beat, he suddenly appeared in front of you and wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing it with some considerable force since your face slightly twitched at the sudden cutoff of oxygen, and the cow did NOT seem to like that result as he let up with the squeezing- ‘’You really don't have any sense of danger, huh?’’ at this point, you didn’t even try to fight his grip, you just shrugged and accepted your fate- ‘’I do have a sense of danger- I just knew what type of bullshit I would be going into, but y’know, I'm forced to work with you. No point in having a sense of danger if you're just going to die by the end of the business day.’’

He sighed and fully let go of you, walking back to his previous spot in the corner and curling up into a ball, hiding his face from the bright lights of the room- ‘’How boring, it's no fun killing you if you're already wanting to die, that's like im granting your shitty wish. I'm a demon, not a genie.

‘’If you're a demon then go do us both a solid and kill that fucker, Matt!’’ you thought to yourself, rolling your eyes at the thought of his eventual return- ‘’What exactly did this Matt guy do to you for his name to be accompanying some form of death every five fucking seconds in your head?! You need to take anger management classes or something.’’

This fucking sassy fuck- ‘’It's because Matt sat there and LOCKED me in a room with YOU, no offense by the way, all for the purpose of killing me- like what type of psychopath sits there and leaves the glory of watching your greatest enemy be killed in real-time to go frolic around in an imaginary field or whatever he does in his free time! It's borderline stupid!’’

‘’Not only that, the guy keeps on babbling on about how you're so docile and kind-hearted!’’ You finished your rant about Matt, laying down against the cold, hard tiles and staring up into the ceiling- ‘’what a dumbass.’’ ‘’Tell me about it- the guys been doing nothing but riding my ass for the past six years and the moment he got a promotion he starts going on a whole tangent about how he’s so important and that he’ll put a mark on me if I step out of line- fucking power-tripping!’’

‘’And he got this promotion because why?’’

‘’Because he [DATA EXPURGED BY ADMIN_M], [REDACTED].’’

The cow seemed to pause at your words before he uncurled himself and stared at you, much to your dismay- ‘’He… did what to [REDACTED]?’’

‘’Yeah, he did, the only and probably only SCP I will ever trust again. And he [DATA EXPURGED BY ADMIN_M], and I hate his fucking guts for it- I sometimes wonder about her family she used to tell me stories about… I really wanted to meet some of her older brothers if our plan worked.’’

‘’Tell me about these stories [REDACTED] told you, now.’’ ‘’It's not like I have anything better to do.’’ . . . . . . . . . ‘’She really was the light of the foundation, making the suicide rate in this damned place drop to an all-time low! Hell, even the SCPs themselves enjoyed her presence, and that's impressive to get that senile old man down the hallway to shut the fuck up with his happy-go-lucky attitude.’’

Rename FILE.[FOLDER_2]? > Please select one option. (Yes/Yes)

Enter a new name for FILE.[FOLDER_2]. > [Paranoia] . . .

Saving FILE.[PARANOIA].. Please wait..

<<< ''Do you really want to go back?'' || ''Are you sure you want to return?'' >>>

[tls12lessthan3]

thinking about orvs metatextual engagement with its genre and specifically how that interacts with its women again. kim dokja is a self insert for the reader - what he thinks is largely meant to represent what we think, especially in the beginning before sing shong really fleshes out his character. kim dokja sees the world through tropes, directly acknowledging the genre around him and the cliches we expect e.g. the overpowered mc, the scheming villain, the beautiful heroine.

but a major part of his arc is deconstructing this reductionist view of the world in a way that parallels the author's deconstruction of the genre, and that plays really well with the way orv writes women. yoo sangah is perhaps the best exanple - shes introduced as the heroine, a one-dimensional pretty girl who in any other novel would become kim dokja's love interest. but the authors allow her to be her own character, directly challenging the stereotype of the heroine and calling attention to the genre's typical lack of depth for such a character. i think this undercurrent plays in the background often but really comes to the forefront when yoo sangah reminds kim dokja of her putting pepper in their bosses' coffee, a memory kim dokja had supressed because it didn't fit with the pretty girl persona he made for her.

i interpret that moment as yoo sangah pushing her way out of the mold of heroine often found in these stories, demanding a depth be added to her character, asking kim dokja - and thus the reader - to see her in her entirety, to see the heroine archetype for what she could be. orv is at all times in conversation with its genre, and its simultaneous writing of female characters with agency and depth and acknowledgement of the tropes these women are expected to fulfill is undeniably a part of that. and its a part i enjoy. most of the time.

[glitterdustcyclops]

btw i'm still thinking about what happens next, i sent it to one of my friends because i thought she'd find it compelling and that prompted me to start a re-read, i got to "no matter what" before i had to go to bed and just

the writing is absolutely masterful, to the point where i forgot i was reading a fictional story, it completely feels like something that actually happened and you are unearthing it layer by layer. and just the way it creates tension, that uneasy dread that just slooooowlly ramps up and up and up the further you go, to the point where you're hurtling towards inevitable trainwreck after inevitable trainwreck with no way to get off the ride? incredible work.

all these little hints and set ups pay off and wallop you directly in the face, and then all the moments of humor and the cutesy-indie art style just add in more dread and existential bleakness on top of all the actually really dark horror of the plot in the best way

as i put it to my friend, i've always had a thing for stories that take full advantage of the unique characteristics of the media they're being told through, stories that cannot be told any other way but the way they are, and this comic really understands that. no other media quite captures the toxic voyeurism of Being Incredibly Online and passively observing The Worst People go through horrible shit, digging through the artifacts of a life, a blog, to Consume as Entertainment

no one is free of sin here, not even us reading the comic, and it's so good, 10/10, absolutely cannot wait for the next chapter

[edwardshundredyearoldspunk]

you've heard of checking the locks ocd! you've heard of hand washing ocd! but have you heard of did that really bad thing happen? oh my god what if that really bad thing happened? I need to spend every waking moment trying to remember if that really bad thing happened! why? I just do! no calm down it's probably ocd…unless…that really bad thing happened! no it didn't! yes it did! did it? no, surely I'd remember something that bad right? but what if I repressed it because it was so bad? no!

[spymeister]

@citizensofcybertron ---------------- Stupid, fraggin', useless aft transport.

He knows that parts of the Decepticon -Autobot Front lacked resources and materials, but he never thought it would get this bad. Cosmotrail had been a decent mech, before an anti-transport shell had taken him down with extreme prejudice. Following the waste not, want not grittiness of survival— the now empty shell had been retrofitted into an actual transport.

Despite his own pragmaticism- it's HARD not to find it creepy.

He'd had a split second to deliberate the unfairness of his functioning before a secondary shell finished the first shell's job. The last half of the transport had been reduced to slag and super-heated metal, and forced the five odd mechs aboard it to jump ship or risk being killed. Shadowstep had been the last off, right before the retrofitted corpse had been destroyed in an explosion—

— and the first mech reduced to scattered parts as another shot took him out.

It'd been his light-and-sound show that had managed to distract the gunners long enough for him to engage his gliding panels- snarling as he weaved and wove his way through the streamers of tracing rounds as they tried to follow.

Behind him, two more of his team fell- their screams cut off in the shrill shriek of the plummet past his audials. One shot, luckier than the rest- is enough to send a round clear through his right shoulder. His secondary arm unfurls from its hiding place- snapping out to hold the first arm in place so that they remain airborne

The second pulls out a modified blaster and returns fire as he spirals closer to the ground.

The landing is far rougher than he likes- but he manages to slam into the surface of the planet beneath him behind a ball of debris. It's enough to shield him from the worst of the firefight long enough for him to get his bearings and do damage control and inventory.

Whipcord has also made it, but like his mission leader, he's likewise wounded. His audial vents flick this way and that, red optics swiveling to Meister as he holds his own wound closed with one hand.

::What's the op, Mes.::

Meister flicks his optics to him, then snarls- leveling his blaster out over their shoulder- and towards an Autobot behind him.

"Survive, Whip. S'what we do."

[bittersweetblasphemy]

hey so i really dont appreciate being confronted with graphic depictions of something that i know is a trigger for me. like. i have a dozen tags and key words blocked around this one thing because i know it's my responsibility to curate my own online experience.

but if you're going to post this thing, which is vastly different from your regular content. with absolutely no appropriate tags. is extremely graphic. all for the sake of guilting me into caring about a current event i already care about but have fuckall control over as a poor cripple who lives oceans away. i really don't appreciate it.

[someuncreativity]

CW: mentions of people being gross towards children

A serious problem

Hey guys, you all remember this guy

This adorable little fella right here

Ain’t he adorable

Almost makes you not want to bludgeon the crying toddler on your ten-hour connection flight over the head with your headphones

I mean not that I actually endorse that of course, it’s a baby it doesn’t know better so I can endure its crying

Still you get the point, he’s a sweetheart

We all want him to live a long happy life

Yeah

So artists on Twitter are being gross again :)

Uh

I would show you proof of this because I unfortunately have too many examples appearing with the rest of my artists

But uh

I don’t want to commit a crime against both my moral code and humanity by showing “art” of this child of no more than ten years of age

I can, however, show you this image of my character *reacting* to the “art” of this child of no more than ten years of age

So here’s that

Yeah I think it speaks for itself

Can y’all just like

Stop making this stuff of kids

Can

Can we do that

Please

[qeyond]

Youtube | Spotify

CW abuse/trauma/ptsd. It's a pretty raw song (both in lyrics and the way Black Dresses preforms their songs) so listen at your own discretion.

This song really speaks so honestly to the deeply self-destructive spiralling for B, in my opinion. Speaking politeness through your gritted teeth with a lying softness, boiling over, letting it out, feeling it on your bared, snarling teeth, breathing out smoke, "is it me? am I the problem? am I the evil monster?", "its always been me", spitting up blood, biting the hand that feeds and ripping them the fuck to shreds to be left alone.

Lyrics under the cut.

Why thank you for your opinion What you think is so important So let's talk this out i love it You're so funny i hope you're doing well Thank god for the tongue in your mouth I'm so happy i'm so lucky I get to do whatever i can be myself But you know what? I have zero tolerance for Bad little shitheads Who only seem to fuck around

Same shit different day You need to fuck off you need to go away I don't wanna talk about it That's all that I came to say Get out of my space You worthless fucking fuckface

Who the fuck do you think you are? Who the fuck do you think you are? Who the fuck do you think you are? Who the fuck do you think you are?

Hey bitch, what the fuck's going on? Is this how you wanna spend the Last few years of your life? Of your life? The last few years your legacy Your legacy your legacy your

You can hide out in your tiny little lair You can be the fucking evil monster terror Scared you can be the evil monster It was always you it was always you It was always you it was always you It was always you

It was always something I couldn't be That was just outside reality It was always something I couldn't know That I didn't know that I shouldn't show Because everything around me Felt just like a bad dream It was all or nothing Be the kind of person you hate or be

Hated for the things that you Thought were common sense Just a little further One day it will make sense Hold yourself a little tighter Your innocence

Preyed upon and vilified by Your blood and friends

Who am I if I can't assign a Name and place to what this is? Everything that's mine feels rotten from The touch of it everything all the time is a Message that I shouldn't be Who the fuck are you? Stay the fuck away from me

I want to love myself but Memories are killing me I want to live but all the years That came before won't let me be I want to love myself but Memories are killing me I want to live but all the years That came before won't let me be I want to love myself but Memories are killing me I want to live but all the years That came before won't let me be I want to love myself but Memories are killing me Memories are killing me Memories are killing me it hurts

[thatwitchrevan]

This is pet peeve territory for sure but I am pretty particular about how I prefer people to format content and trigger warnings. And maybe my rambling can be useful to explain why.

To me, capitalizing, bolding, and especially emphasizing with exclamation points are, at best, unnecessary and annoying or distracting. At worst it feels... patronizing? I know the intent is clarity and covering the bases, but it feels overly assertive, like I might not have the discernment or sense to recognize the warning unless it's shouted.

I also think the way everything is lumped under Trigger Warning presents several issues. It's been pointed out numerous times that some people will literally just say 'trigger warning' and then not actually give a warning, but even beyond that I think it's worth keeping in mind that trigger means something specific and that 'content warning' and 'trigger warning' are not interchangeable.

A trigger is something that has strong potential to induce an adverse mental reaction, like an anxiety or panic attack.

As someone who has anxiety and has triggers, there is also a lot of content that I'd like to be warned of ahead of time, not because it will trigger me but for a myriad of other reasons. Even with things I find triggering, their capacity to do that is extremely circumstantial.

I greatly prefer when people use 'content warning' as a catch all for informing people about the content, and save 'trigger warning' for high risk things, like explicit images or real and detailed stories of trauma.

You wouldn't generally say to someone 'hey, if you watch this movie, I think you'd have a panic attack' unless you were very intimately familiar with their triggers and how they work. Instead you'd say 'hey man, just so you know, this movie has this stuff in it, and this is how in depth it gets.' The warning is not a keep out sign, or an advisement to certain people to avoid something. It is an informative warning for EVERYONE that details what to expect so each individual can make a decision based on all of their needs at that moment.

That's why content warnings should be direct, precise, unembellished, with no assumptions. And I especially appreciate when people give a short overview of the kind of topics they're warning for and then provide more detail as an optional aside. Like dropdown menus that open up to explain more, or game pages that link to a breakdown of the warnings. Having a short list with no detail is good for many situations and having detailed information is good for many others. Options are good.

Content warnings are also not mandatory, especially if the content isn't yours, but even for posting your own art, writing, music, etc there is no prerogative to list anything that might be harmful to every hypothetical viewer. It is impossible, first of all. And we are capable of either looking up or asking for that information on our own, taking the chance and self-regulating, or passing on it if it's not worth the risk. Or getting a friend to check it out for us. Or saving it for another day. Or any number of things.

I think there's certainly cases where people (or major corporate entities) have been irresponsible with not offering warnings for their content, but those cases are more like movies with major flashing light sequences triggering epilepsy attacks with no warning. Or unexpected explicit gore, maybe.

But this idea of individual responsibility to anticipate and protect everyone's needs when sharing stuff is not something that should be held as a rule or standard. It's good and kind to be considerate, but there are limits to an individual's ability to fulfill this. It's why people collectively making warnings and information available is good and valuable.

tl;dr: I think warnings are best when they don't over emphasize, and are direct and simple and informative. Be chill about it instead of pasting flashing warning signs on everything.

[silverhairedwolf]

Theraphy, seasonal depression or... a secret third thing.

[saintrosalyn]

JAILBIRD

Ghost becomes pen pals with an inmate before deciding that he wants to adopt his little jailbird.

Word count: 4.1k

Tw: inmate reader, reader is kept as vauge as possible but is implied to be younger than Ghost, violence, stalking, ghost is a perv, p in v, oral (f! Receiving), creampie, spanking (once), orgasm denial if you squint, unprotected sex, NOT edited we die like men.

Notes: Baby’s first fanfic, please be gentle. Let me know if I missed any trigger warnings or if you want to see more! I have an idea for a second part but I don’t know if anyone wants it, right now it’s tucked away safely in my drafts. Enjoy! :)

P.S. I’m thinking about making an ao3 account and publishing an edited version of this on there. I’ll link it if I do! I’ve already spent too much time procrastinating finals but christmas break is around the corner so who knows.

The letter came with the top serrated, already opened, as all your letters came. You mostly ignored them. There were a couple of programs that allowed people to become pen pals with prisoners but you’d been there long enough to know what they often contained. 

Many of the women milked poor losers on the outside. Money given and sent. Promises of butterfly kisses and blowjobs whispered over the phone. Exchanges. Some were even able to sweet talk their honeys into giving bribes. Money passed into hands of guards, currency that was then exchanged for cigarettes, which were much more valuable on the inside than the bills used on the outside.

You don’t know why you read this letter. It certainly wasn’t the penmanship, a scrawled handwriting that lay between cursive and print. Maybe it was the blue pen, you’d recognize a Bic anywhere, or maybe it was the fact that it smelled a bit like top-shelf liquor. 

It was rather blunt. But not in an obscene way. Simple and straight to the point as if constrained by an unknown word count. It wasn’t memorable, but what else was there to do? Pace your cell back and forth and wait for zoochosis to settle further in your bones. Close your eyes and remember what freedom tasted like before it dissolved in your mouth.

The pen they gave you was cheap, the paper even cheaper, but you were used to making things work. Your reply was shorter than his, than Simon’s, but it got the job done. If he wanted to write back he would. If he didn’t, well, the new prison guard was starting to get rather handsy with you. The time will pass no matter what.

___

His replies came in strange patterns. Some weeks you’d get eight in a week, other times you wouldn’t hear from him for a few months. It took a year for the first phone call of which lasted less than a minute and consisted mostly of him grunting on the other end and a schlick sound you pretended not to notice. It was his fourth phone call that he finally said a few words in a voice so low it made the phone buzz against your ear, tickling like a lover's breath. Eventually, you had some semblance of conversations, even if they were interrupted by a recorded voice warning you of the time you had left. 

He told you he was a soldier and at first, you planned on cutting the whole penpal idea off. Even before you got arrested you hated bootlickers more than anything. But Simon grew on you, and your friends all suggested you get in his good graces to see if he could pull some strings. You would’ve felt guilty if he was anything other than glorified government property. Both of you were.

The first thing he gave you was a book, The Yellow Wallpaper, which was thicker than you remembered from the time you read it in school. It was only when you cracked open the spine did you find a pack of cigarettes inside, the pages carved out so your real present could be placed inside. You couldn’t help the smile that split your lips as you pressed one between your lips, not noticing the tiny S carved into it.

You thank him for the gift by whispering his name into the phone. A mantra, a prayer, it didn’t matter as long as you kept your voice breathy. He promises to get you more and you learn not to refuse him. At one point, you notice that little robotic voice doesn’t time you anymore. The guard who couldn’t keep his hands to himself was replaced with a woman, hair pulled back into a military-style bun. And you got an extra cookie with your meals.

It took a year for him to visit. You knew it was coming eventually, men are only fine with their imagination for so long before they crave something tangible. Hell, even you were curious about the man who wanted to sink his teeth into you. It almost felt like getting ready for a date. Butterflies dropped like lead in your stomach as you tried to tidy your appearance as much as you could. You smelled, but there wasn’t much you could do about that. The whole damn prison smelled like a county fair bathroom. The lack of air conditioning in the heat of summer just added a sweet BO tinge. 

The first thing you noticed about Simon was his size. You had never met a man as big as he was. The next was the thick scar tissue that marred his face. Though, even without the scars you would be hesitant to ever call him handsome.

Intimidating.

That was what came to mind staring at the thick cords of muscle that covered his arms and the broadness of his shoulders wasn’t just genetics. And he just stared at you. You glanced at the phone that connected to his on the other side of the glass and back at him but decided against it.

You offered him a small smile and an awkward wave. It unnerved you. The focus and attention pinned you in place. Normally you kinned yourself to a tiger you saw at a zoo when you were a child. One that paced back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. A habit you understood all too well. But sitting in front of your pen pal you realized you were rather off. 

Simon was the tiger and you were the bird that caught his attention.

It took far too long for the guard to come and collect you. For once you were grateful to retreat back to your cell, so much so that in your retreat you failed to notice the nod your warden gave Simon.

___

After that Simon met with you in person as often as was allowed. He never said anything and neither did you. Eventually, the novelty of him wore off. Humans were rather adaptable creatures, and you could only be scared of the man for so long before your body adjusted to him. Despite your silence, Simon didn’t appear displeased with you. In fact, it was almost the opposite of it. More gifts arrived.

A pillow, high-end shampoo, a toothbrush (that you had a strange suspicion was used before being given to you), nail polish, and more cigarettes. Some of the women were jealous of the attention given to you, others tried to get with you to share your bounty. Somehow you dodged most of the conflict. But you can only run so long while trapped with so many women.

When you showed up to your meeting sporting a bruised cheek and split lip the air quickly changed. Before you thought Simon looked like a predator. 

You were wrong.

Fear coursed through your veins and you recognized the look in his eyes. Every woman in the damn place knows what a hunger for violence looked like. Slowly he reached out an arm, the sleeve of his hoodie riding up slightly showing off tattoos, before grabbing the phone and pressing it to his ear. With a shaking hand, you did the same.

“Bird.” His voice was somehow deeper in real life than over the phone.

“You should see the other guy.”

His lips twitched.

There was something uncanny about his eyes. They weren’t brown, they were black. Obsidian. You realized that before, the first time you met him, he wasn’t trying to scare you. Though, you were pretty sure it wasn’t directed at you.

“Just a little spat is all Simon. Everything sorted itself out.”

All over a bottle of nail polish. Tempers run short in prison. You spend most of your days in a cell, and what little free time you get surrounded by the same insufferable bitches, it’s a mystery there isn’t more violence. For the most part, things were settled with words. The more physical an inmate gets the more time spent in your cell. There were some weeks where you spent twenty-three hours a day in that little room. 

Simon let out a sigh as if dealing with you was the most insufferable part of his day.

“Did ye’ get medical attention a’ least?”

You nodded your head.

He gave a grunt.

That seemed to be his preferred method of communication with you. Caveman grunts and growls, the occasional moan over the phone he couldn’t hold back. You figured it had something to do with his job. He was quite tight-lipped about it, but you gathered he has co-workers (his squad? Platoon? What was the proper lingo?). Despite this, you were under the impression he spent the majority of his time alone. He always seemed more primal after those month-long stints of silence.

You always wondered how you would feel if he never contacted you again. Went out and didn’t come back. Would you assume he was dead? That he moved on to prettier things that aren’t locked away? Would it make a difference to you? 

No. It wouldn’t.

Even now you got letters upon letters from other men. Though none were as giving as Simon was.

It was back to silence and staring contests that you were used to. The both of you slipping into a familiarity. He never put the phone back. Even when your warden came and escorted you back. You didn’t glance back at him. 

Tucked away in your cell you didn’t get to watch Simon slowly rise out of his seat, chair creaking from the shifting of his weight. You didn’t see Simon lurk in the back as the inmates met with their loved ones on the out. Didn’t see him take notice of a particular girls with nails painted the same shade as his gift to you. The same shade as the tip of his cock.

___

The girl was transferred. For a singular moment, you thought Simon had something to do with it. Then laughed at the idea. Simon may be in the military, but you highly doubted he had anything to do with the bitch who got transferred. At least you got your nail polish back. It was a strange shade, and the idea of a man as big as Simon standing in an isle trying to pick out a shade made you chuckle, it was the thought that counted.

Time marched on. Penpals came and went but Simon stayed the consistent part in your life. 

Eventually, the possibility of parole was on the horizon. 

Freedom. 

So close you could practically taste it.

Unfortunately, that meant a laundry list of to-do items. Court hearings, lawyers bankrolled by Simon, arranging for transportation and housing. Simon handled most of it. By now, the lingering guilt of using your soldier fiance had long left you. He seemed like the kind of man who needed to learn lessons the hard way, and entering a relationship with a felon was a lesson most didn’t need to learn. Still, he had been putting in quite a hard amount of work. He deserved a treat.

And after years of forced celibacy, you needed it bad.

The two of you would enjoy each other for a week or two. Simon would realize he made a mistake moving you in. He would kick you out. You’d pawn the ring he’d give you and use the money as a cushion as you landed, getting back on your feet. The two of you would go your separate ways and never see each other again.

Being in prison taught you a lot of things. Despite everything, patience wasn’t one of those lessons. The day you were gaining your freedom passed was the slowest part of your life. The checking, double checking, retrieving your stuff, checking again, until finally,

Finally,

You were outside. You were outside in something other than a uniform that stunk of sweat, there were no handcuffs. Anxiety crept everywhere. You wanted to get as far away from the prison as you could, if you breathed wrong a warden would drag you back. A pair of arms snatched you.

You looked up and couldn’t help but laugh, pressing your lips against his scarred ones.

“Fucking Christ your tall.”

He chuckled against your lips before taking them again, hands digging near painfully into your ass. The two of you somehow managed to walk back to his car peeling off one another before Simon peeled away, hand clutching the fat of your thighs as he drove.

“Never pictured you as a reckless driver.” You giggled.

The adrenaline and giddiness of being free hadn’t worn off yet. If anything it seemed to slowly be morphing into a different beast entirely. You pressed your lips against his bicep causing him to groan. You glanced up at him, watching as his jaw clenched weaving in and out of traffic in a way that was certainly not legal. You would’ve been worried about being pulled over if he wasn’t driving a military vehicle. They answered to a different police, or so he told you.

Eventually, he pulled into the yard of a house with an honest-to-God white picket fence. You smiled as you got out, curiosity creeping in about what his house was like. Simon opened the door for you, which would probably should’ve made you swoon at his gentleman-like behavior, but truthfully it was how he hauled you out of the card and dragged you inside that got your heart racing. 

Impatient.

The door barely closed before his body was pressed against yours and his lips were pressed against your jugular. One of his rough hands slipped up your shirt, grunting when he found a clear path to your tits instead of meeting the edge of a bra. The other dipped into the waistband of your pants, running over your clothed cunt, no doubt feeling the wet spot against your underwear. Your hands slid over his arms, squeezing at the muscle, before slowly sliding them up and up, going to the back of his neck, a hand threading through his short hair the other cupping his face to kiss yours. 

A large thumb found your clit, only the thin cotton stopped him from rubbing directly against it. He pressed down hard on it, causing your breath to catch in your throat, his thumb moving down your slit. The seam of your mouth parted in a moan and he used that to stick his tongue down your throat. 

The kiss was obscenely wet, beastly as his spit passed from his mouth into yours. Before prison, you would’ve pulled away with a grimace. Too much tongue, too much teeth, too much. But your whole body was on fire, years of pent-up orgasms made you desperate for it all. For someone to press against you, to be inside you.

Simon was oh-so-convenient. 

You tried to pull away, lungs burning enough to convince you that air was in fact a need, but the door stopped you. Pressed between it and Simon you had no escape. You whimpered against his mouth, again and again until he finally got the hint and pulled away, a string of spit connecting your mouths as if it too was reluctant to pull away from you.

“Bedroom?” You panted, though if he took you here against the door you would die happy.

Simon threw you over his shoulder and took his stairs two at a time before tossing you on his bed making you laugh. The caveman and his prize. Simon took the moment of being away from you to pull at the collar of his shirt. You watched in appreciation as it lifted higher and higher until it was discarded on his carpet. 

His body was marred in scar tissue, muscle, and a layer of fat that made for a solid fine specimen of the male species. His pants were discarded next, and either he pulled his underwear down with them or he just wasn’t wearing any to begin with. You didn’t have much time to ponder that thought distracted by his hard cock.

Jesus Christ.

Big was an understatement, monster was the word that popped into your mind. It crossed the territory between delicious into scary. Large and thicker than you thought possible. You swallowed and for a second hoped he would forget about the blowjob you promised him after he gave you a pillow. 

“Yer’ wearin’ too many clothes Birdie.” 

Quickly, though not as quickly as Simon was, you wiggled out of your pants, shrugged off your shirt throwing it in the same pile as his clothes. He stepped closer to you, one large hand grabbing your ankle before retching you towards him.

He leaned down, mouthing at your bare tits, slobbering over them. The soft press of his tongue flicked over your nipple before he moved to the other and grazed his teeth over it. His hands were everywhere. He was everywhere. Impossibly big and pressed against you everywhere. Until all your senses were filled with him. As if Simon was the only thing that mattered in the world.

The artificial sun in your glass cage.

His mouth moved lower, nipping at your skin before he moved between your legs. He settled his body in between them, the calloused palm of his hands pressing your legs further and further apart until the stretch burned in the muscles where your legs met your pelvis. Quickly the pain faded into the background as he pressed a kiss against your bare clit, before taking it in his mouth and sucking. You felt the rough pad of his fingertips press against your hole rubbing against it but never quite dipping inside. Again and again, he moved it against you but never in you. 

It was maddening.

You tilted your pelvis against his mouth, trying to coax his fingers into your welcoming body. He growled against your clit, removing his mouth causing you to whine. A sharp sting met your ass cheek and you yelped.

He spanked you.

“Behave.”

You never took the man to be hungry for anything other than missionary, but it seemed he had learned a few tricks over the years. He did have a few on you, you were sure of it. Your thoughts leaked out of your ears as he moved back up, slotting his hips in between your legs. Liquid lust ran through your veins at the sight of him rubbing his dick against your mound, a mess of your slick and his pre dragging along your pussy and up to your belly button. Your poor hole clenching around nothing at the image of how deep he was about to be in you.

You took a deep breath, mesmerized as he pressed the tip against your entrance, catching it before pressing himself inside. He went slowly, and you couldn’t help the moan that left you as he finally began to sink home. Throwing your head back you closed your eyes as he stretched your body out.

You weren’t a virgin before you were locked away, but years of celibacy made you feel born again. Hell, with the size Simon was even if you had fucked him before he would’ve made you feel virginal with the way he was splitting you open.

When you opened them again you caught his gaze, he stared at you watching your expression pinch as he gave small thrusts, working the last of him inside you. When his balls pressed against your ass you let out a shaky breath. You had passed your limit two inches ago but somehow Simon had managed to coax your sweet pussy to take the last of him inside. The pain of him had taken you away from the edge of an orgasm he was working you towards, but when his hand found your clit again you knew you weren’t going to last long.

If his shaky breaths were anything to go by Simon wasn’t going to last long either. 

He kissed you again, this time it was softer. Sweeter. Made your stomach turn in a moment of guilt. It was replaced when he drew out of you, slowly letting you feel inch after inch leave your body, before slamming back in.

He moved again against you. And again. Building up a punishing rhythm. You couldn’t help the small ah ah ah’s that left your lips as he rutted in you. Your hips pushed against his, working with him as you both chased your highs. 

His hand never left your clit, as if glued to it working in tight fast circles. His other hand traveled along your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Squeezing at your tits so hard you thought it might bruise, running up your bare skin, constantly moving and feeling. As if he couldn’t believe that you were real. That you were out of your cage and underneath him panting his name in his ear instead of against the end of a phone. 

Your own hands wandered. Moving over his arms, God’s gift to you, his chest. But mostly they moved down his back, feeling his muscles move and contract under your hands. Before you left you would convince him to put a mirror over his bed, so you could watch his shoulders shift and move as he thrust inside you.

It was too much. The feel of Simon, the stimulation on your clit, the thick cock pistoning like a machine inside you, pressure built and built inside you. Your nails dug into his back, dragging down as he pushed you off that ledge.

Simon’s thrusts stuttered as he felt your walls fluttering around him, suckling at his cock, coaxing him. He came with a groan soon after you, painting your walls with thick globs of his cum.

You panted as he rested against you, letting his cock soften inside you as you ran your nails over the nape of his neck and caressed his short hair. It was oddly soft, comforting to run your hands over.

Simon began to untangle himself from you, slowly as if reluctant to part from your embrace. He moved to what you now realize was the on-suite connected to his bedroom. You could feel his cum start to drip out of your cunt and down your asshole, shifting at the uncomfortable feeling. You couldn’t find the energy yet to move, not even sure if your legs could support you right now. Simon came back to you, wash-cloth in hand, and began wiping up the mess he made.

“We’ll have to get a Plan B tomorrow.” You murmured as he crawled back into bed next to you.

Simon didn’t say anything, but he had always been a quiet man. He maneuvered the both of you until you rested under the covers, your hand running along his bare chest. Tracing his happy trail before moving back up, not ready to go again.

The adrenaline from before had worn off, leaving you suddenly exhausted. Sated and free you dozed off against him.

When you woke up again it was darker outside. Not yet the full black of night but rather the soft blue that came after the sun had only just dipped out of sight. Simon wasn’t in bed next to you. You rolled over with a sigh, sitting up and smoothing your hair. Thirsty you threw the covers off your body and padded across out of his room entering into a small hallway. There was a door directly across his room and with a shrug, you went into it. 

It wasn’t snooping if you lived here now too. Even if you were only going to stay for a little bit.

The handle turned easily but the room was darker than you expected, no windows to let in any natural light. Your hands patted at the wall until you found the edge of a light switch, with a click the room was bathed in a soft glow.

Your breath hitched.

The room was bare except for a small desk and chair, the walls were covered in photos. Photos of you. Old photos, from before your prison stint. Mugshots. But what made your skin crawl were photos of you in your cell. You sprawled out on your uncomfortable cot. You sitting cross-legged across from your cellmate. Images of you in the cafeteria. Images of you in the yard. 

You took a step back, then another, and another.

You flicked the light back off and slowly closed the door. You took a shuddering breath and yelped when you felt a chest pressed against yours. 

Simon’s hands dug into your hips, pulling you tight against him.

“You look like you’ve seen a Ghost, Birdie.”

Poor little bird, trading one cage for another.

___

Part Two

[dreaming-medium]

Language Barrier

Pairing: Lee Minho x Reader

Word Count: 7K

Tags: fluff, first meeting, first kiss, strangers to lovers

Summary: When the power goes out while you’re in an ATM vestibule, you come to realize you’re stuck inside until the police come to open the door. But there’s one problem, you don’t speak a lick of Korean, and the man inside doesn’t seem to speak an ounce of English.

———

A/N: Please note that sentences that are Italicized are meant to be in Korean and sentences that are regular text are in English.

‘How are you?’ - English

‘I’m fine thank you, and you?’ - Korean

—————————————————————————

Luck was not on your side today.

It’s not like you’re an unlucky person as a whole, no, that’s not it. Today was just one of those days that when you say ‘How could this get any worse?’, the universe takes it as a challenge.

Perhaps you should’ve just kept your mouth shut after you spilled coffee on your blouse this morning. But, you’ve always been such a ‘glass-half-full’ sort of person that you tried to take every inconvenience in stride. Everyone has their limit, though.

Before you came here on a business trip, you had heard about the Korean Monsoon season.

Everyone and their mother told you about how much it would pour, how it would feel like the skies suddenly opened up. But, you didn’t take anyone’s warning seriously. You would wave them off with a scoff.

“It’s just rain,” you thought. “How bad could it be?”

You’re eating those words now as you run through the streets in your nice, newly-soaked, professional heels. Your slacks are sticking to your legs, making the fabric ten times heavier. With your bag held over your head, you look around frantically for the bank.

It doesn’t help that it’s close to 10 PM and visibility is already horrible at this time. Yes, you should have gone earlier, but you were distracted!

Where is it? Where is it?

There!

You spot the glass doors and practically sprint up to them, grab the handle, and rip the door open.

A giant sigh of relief comes out of your lips as you step inside the tiny vestibule.

The only other man inside the place jumps a bit at your noise. He glances over his shoulder at you, but immediately turns back to what he’s doing at the ATM. You pay him no mind as you shake the rainwater off of your bag.

It’s after hours at the bank, meaning the only thing open and available is one ATM inside the room between the bank itself and the streets of Seoul.

Soft beeping comes from the ATM as the other man presses a few buttons. There’s an umbrella on the floor at his feet.

After brushing the water off your jacket, you bring your bag in front of you and start fishing out your card. Countless items inside your bag are now completely soaked.

Ugh, there goes all those business cards you collected at the meeting. Most of the ink is bleeding off the cardstock. Maybe, if you try really hard, you can make out the phone numbers on the cards.

Is that a 6 or an 8?

Or maybe the email addresses will be easier to understand. Surely, it just their names and their company’s–

There’s a bright flash of lightning followed immediately by a booming clap of thunder at the same time the lights in the ATM vestibule flicker and go out completely.

You fight the yelp that bubbles in your throat. The man in front of you seems to lose the fight against his reactions and lets out a tiny yip.

His shoulders come up and he seems to bristle like a cat.

“You’re kidding,” you mumble, looking up at the lights. It was almost pitch black inside now, save for the tiny emergency lights that kick on on either side of the glowing Exit sign.

The man lets out a grumble and a sigh.

You look over and see that the ATM has completely shut off. Figures.

The storm must’ve triggered some sort of power outage. Great. Now you’ll have to find some other ATM.

Why, oh why, did the restaurant that your boss wanted to take you to tomorrow morning have to be cash only?

Whatever, there should be a bank a few blocks from here.

Your heels click on the tile as you make your way to the door. When you grab the handle and pull, it doesn’t budge.

There’s a beat.

You try again, really putting your back into it this time.

“Am I stupid or what?” you whisper to yourself, trying the other door and pulling equally as hard.

“They’re not going to open,” the man behind you says. “The fail-safe locks probably kicked in once the power went out. It’s a security measure.”

You turn around and look at him with a blank look on your face. “Oh, ah, um… s-sorry, no… no Korean.”

The man blinks at you. “You don’t speak Korean?”

You blink right back at him. “Um…” All you can do is shake your head with wide eyes and a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry,” you repeat.

Another series of blinks are exchanged.

“No… Korean?” he asks slowly. His English sounds so unsure.

You nod. “No… no Korean.”

A tiny, exasperated sigh comes from his lips and he looks around, as if anything inside this tiny little room would be able to help him communicate with you. Meanwhile, you turn back to the door and give it another sharp tug to no avail.

“No,” he says firmly, drawing your attention back to him. He motions down to the door handles and then shakes his head.

“No?” you repeat, a bit confused.

“No.”

Honestly, the primitive conversation between the two of you would be somewhat laughable if you didn’t feel frustrated beyond belief.

“Why?” you ask, becoming annoyed. Obviously, he knows something that you don’t.

The man blinks at you and shifts around nervously on his feet. His hands motion around as he tries to conjure up a sentence in English. “N… No. Closed?... Closed.” He nods, saying the word rather confidently.

Yes, you know the door is closed. But, why?

After a second, he sees that whatever he said evidently isn’t good enough, so he points back to the ATM, to the light that is now off due to no power, and then to the locks. You follow his pointing and the cogs in your brain start turning slowly.

“Fail-safe locks,” you state and then finally release the door handles.

“Fail… Fail-safe locks,” he repeats slowly. “Fail-safe locks.”

“Fail-safe locks?” you parrot his Korean back to him and he nods.

A small hum comes from your chest and you take a step back from the door finally. “How long do you think–” you cut yourself off when you look over at him. The man is staring at you, not following a word you’re saying.

Your hand comes up and you brush some wet hair off your forehead and then scratch the back of your head as a nervous tick. There’s no point in even asking the question, he won’t be able to understand anything you’re saying.

If you were in his shoes, you’d probably be a bit annoyed too. But at the same time, he’s already been kinder than most would be in this situation.

He’s locked in an ATM vestibule with someone who doesn’t speak the same language as him– in his own country. He’s been more than kind. Most people would just wave you off and forget trying to communicate at all.

But here he was, talking slowly and making sure you can understand what he’s saying. He’s going so far as to point around the room to make sure you understand.

The man notices you give up and he lets out a tiny sigh, turning to then peer out the glass doors at the streets of Seoul. There’s basically no one out there, everyone has taken shelter from the squall.

“We’ll have to wait until the police come to open the door.” He pats at his pockets, searching for his phone.

Even with how terrible your Korean is, you still pick up on a few words. “Police?” A beat. “Police?”

“Yes,” he answers in English, taking his phone out and tapping the screen a few times before holding it up to his ear. The man continues to look through the glass doors, watching all the different cars drive by, none of them police cars.

You decide to turn around, walking around the tiny room.

All of the lights are off except for the emergency lights. They cast a dull glow through the entirety of the vestibule. There's barely enough light to see from one side of the room to the other.

Rain starts hammering against the glass as the man speaks into his phone. “Yes, hi, hello. I am currently trapped with another woman inside the ATM vestibule of Metrobank Seoul… Namdaemunno… Yes, that one.”

Your ears perk up when he mentions the name of the bank and the address. Ah, he must have called the police. His face pulls into a slightly annoyed look, but he doesn’t speak with a hint of it through the phone, at least, not that you’re really able to tell.

The man says a few more words into the phone before he hangs up with a sigh. He runs a hand through his hair and then down his face in an exasperated fashion before turning to look at you. His mouth opens to say something, but he thinks better of it and he grimaces even more.

Your own features pull into a sympathetic expression and you look away, slightly embarrassed. Should you have learned more of the language before coming here? Absolutely. But at the same time, you didn’t have much time to prepare once you were told you had to travel here for business.

He shuffles from foot to foot and looks around, shoving his hands in his pockets and desperately trying to remember every English class he took in school.

“Police…” he says slowly, thinking through every word he wants to try and say. “Police are… busy.”

“Busy?”

“Yes. Busy. Busy with… car…” He brings both of his hands together and claps and then makes an explosion noise with his hands.

“A car accident?”

He snaps his fingers and points to you, as if you’re a team during a game of charades.

“Car accident,” he says in Korean.

“Car accident,” you repeat and he nods.

Despite the reality of the situation, you smile. The humor in all of this does not escape you. You decide to try and meet him halfway, even with your butchered pronunciation.

“Police… time… long?” Your head cocks to the side and you point to your watch. He shakes his head and shrugs in exaggerated movements.

Scoffing, you roll your eyes. The accident was that bad, huh? No wonder the power went out then, the car must have smashed into electrical lines after that loud clap of thunder. This probably means all of the traffic lights and such are out too.

The police are most likely directing traffic and making sure no one gets injured; two idiots stranded in an ATM vestibule are the least of their concerns. Honestly, you can’t be in a safer place. Well, unless this guy is a murderer, but you haven’t gotten a harsh vibe yet.

You sigh and lean against the wall near the corner across from the ATM. Your body slides down to the floor and you stare straight ahead. It seems like you’re going to be in here for a while then.

The man takes one last look outside the doors before walking in your direction. He leans against the adjacent wall and takes a seat on the floor with you. His shoes almost touch the side of yours. It’s at this time that you let yourself take a moment to really look at him.

He has to be around your age; older than a college graduate but younger than someone settled into their career. Something that definitely doesn’t escape your attention is how… pretty he is. His skin is near perfect and so is his hair. Everything, down to the clothes he’s wearing, is absolutely flawless– and he’s only in sweatpants and a zip-up hoodie!

Next to him, especially in your current drowned rat state, you probably look like something worse than a hot mess. You quickly comb your hair off your forehead once more and pull at your soaking wet clothes sticking to your skin.

The man’s lips purse for a moment and he opens his mouth as if to say something, then promptly stops, opting for a grumble of frustration.

After a moment, an idea flickers through your mind and you hold up one finger to him to say ‘one moment’. You reach down into your pocket for your phone and take it out, tapping at a few screens and bringing up the Translate app.

‘What’s your name?’ you type into the phone and it immediately translates it into Korean below it. You turn your phone around and hold it up to him.

The man looks at you, then your phone, and his eyes light up. If you’re not mistaken, you even see a little bit of relief flash over his features. A tiny smirk pulls at one corner of his lips before he looks back at you.

“Minho,” he answers and motions to you.

“Y/N,” you reply. “Nice to meet you, Minho.” You hold your hand out for a handshake.

Minho looks at your hand and his smirk gets wider before he grabs your hand and shakes it gently. The skin on his palm is so soft. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.”

After shaking his hand, you bring your phone back up to your face and type another sentence into the translate app.

‘I’m very sorry for not knowing Korean, I’m here on business.’

Minho looks at your phone, reading the statement before shaking his head and pulling out his own phone. He types away and then holds it up for you to read.

‘No need to apologize. With my line of work, my English should be better. It’s a very hard language to learn.’

A little laugh huffs from your nose and you nod and type.

‘Try learning Korean.’

Minho laughs with you and his smirk grows into a playful smile. Jesus Christ, this man is gorgeous. He looks down and taps a bit on his phone and then he holds it up to you. With the way his smirk pulls at his lips, it almost reminds you of a devious little cat.

‘I could tell you were a foreigner when you first came into the bank.’

Your eyebrow raises. “Oh, really?”

He’s chuckling when he brings his phone back to type more and then hold it up for you to read.

‘You don’t have an umbrella.’

Laughter leaves your lips when you read that and your head tilts back to rest against the wall. The wetness from your clothes is beginning to seep into your bones. Plus, the feeling of the fabric sticking to your skin is starting to become overstimulating.

But, you try and keep it together. You don’t really have another option at the moment.

You type a message back to Minho.

‘People tried to warn me about the Monsoon Season. As you can see, I didn’t listen.’

He reads your message and sucks his teeth with a smirk. Minho shakes his head and motions to the glass doors, as if to say ‘Look!’.

“I know, I know!” you laugh and look outside at the sheets of rain pouring from the sky. Puddles have turned into small ravines flowing down the sides of the road. Any car that passes by creates a huge splash as they pass through them.

Every once in a while, the sky will light up and thunder will follow it quickly.

Minho laughs with you. “Next time… you listen.” He nudges your leg with his foot.

You look over at him. “I will, trust me.”

A long look is shared between the two of you. There’s this tiny nagging feeling at the back of your mind, it’s that same feeling you get when you see someone in public that you swear you’ve seen before. Maybe he just has one of those faces?

No, you definitely haven’t met him before. You would remember if he was someone you shook hands with in the last few days. A man that gorgeous would never slip under your radar, you’re certain.

Minho stares back at you, eyes flitting about at your soaking wet hair matting to your skin. It looks like his one hand twitches for a moment and then he shifts in his seat.

Back to the app.

The two of you type away on your phones and hold them up at the same time with the exact same question on them.

‘What do you do for work?’

‘What do you do for work?’

Again, the two of you let out little huffs of laughter and he motions to you as if to tell you to go first.

So you do, you type down on your phone a little answer for him.

‘Right now, I’m only the assistant to a CEO for a huge company. Wherever he goes, I go. I write all his contracts; everything he does goes through me first. I’m more of an administrator than an assistant, though.’

Minho reads your answer carefully and then types out a small response with a tiny crease in between his brows.

‘Why do you say ‘right now’?’

A sad smile spreads on your face as you look down at your phone to type out a response.

‘I studied hard and have a Mathematics degree. But no matter where I apply, they say I don’t have enough experience. Back in America, the job market is absolutely horrible. So, I’m stuck.’

Minho’s eyes scan through your message and a frown pulls at his lips. He looks back up at you, meeting your eyes and then back to your phone before he begins to type his own message.

Your silent communication warms your heart a little bit. The glow from his phone lights up his features and you study him carefully. His teeth poke out from his top lip– it’s absolutely adorable.

He seems to think for a long moment before his thumbs fly over his screen.

Rain is coming down in sheets outside the door, it’s the only other sound inside the room besides the light clicking of the haptics on his phone.

You reach back and once more run your fingers through your hair– it seems to be drying now, but not in a good way. The humidity of the rain is apparent in the way it's starting to frizz up.

Minho turns his phone around after a moment of typing.

‘I’ve heard about how hard it is to get a job in America, I’m very sorry it’s so unfair. For what it’s worth, I think there’s nothing wrong with the job you have now. Hard work is hard work no matter if it's an assistant or a scientist.’

His words strike a chord within your heart, they tug at your chest and at the corner of your lips which twitch into a wistful smile on your face.

“Thank you,” you say to him in Korean, looking directly into his eyes. Minho smiles back at you when he hears it.

“You are welcome,” he answers in English.

His smile seems so warm for a stranger. He looks at you as if you’re an old friend, not like a woman, still soaking wet from the rain, sitting on the floor with him inside an ATM vestibule. He’s so genuine.

After a few seconds of just looking at him, you bring your phone up to type once more.

‘Your turn. What do you do?’

Minho stares at your phone for a long time, seemingly reading the sentence over and over again. His bottom lip pulls between his teeth and he seems to weigh something in his mind.

His brown eyes flick to yours, then back to the phone, then back to you again before he looks down at his phone.

You never realized how much just body language alone can convey.

He types slower, his thumbs not moving as quickly as before. Why does he seem so apprehensive?

Eventually, he turns the phone around.

‘I’m an idol.’

“Oh,” you say softly. Your shoulders shrug a bit and you cock your head to the side. “Like a K-pop idol?”

Minho nods in response. “Stray Kids.”

The name rings a bell, it’s just one you’ve heard floating around for a few months now. You think one of your friends is into them, but you can’t remember. She’s into so many different groups, it’s hard to keep track anymore.

You type in your phone.

‘I’ve heard the name before. Weren’t you guys at the MET Gala?’

With a breathy chuckle, he nods. A smile spreads across your face.

‘Wow, I’m trapped in a room with a celebrity then. You know, people write stories like this.’

Your joke definitely lands because he snorts a huff of laughter as you type on your phone a little bit more after that.

‘Don’t worry, I won’t take pictures and post them all over Twitter or anything. This will just be a funny story for me to tell my friends when I get back home to America.’

“Thank you,” Minho says softly with genuine gratitude in his voice. God, you can’t even imagine what it’s like being an idol. There probably wasn’t a single place he felt safe going to anymore. There are always cameras just waiting to take his picture.

‘When do you go back to America?’

‘In a few days. My boss loves to extend his business trips at the last minute. So, I could be here three more days or seven more days. It’s very hard to pack to come on these trips.’

A bittersweet expression settles on his handsome face.

You think for a long moment before typing away at your phone and showing it to him.

‘Have you ever been to New Jersey? That’s the state I’m from.’

Minho’s lips purse as he thinks for a long few moments. Very slowly, he nods, almost unsure. He types in his phone, then thinks for a moment, then types again.

‘I think we’ve been there twice. Is Newark in New Jersey?’

Excitedly, you nod. “Yes, that’s up in North Jersey!” You’re so excited that you forget to type down on your phone. “Oh!” you say with a laugh, looking back down at your phone.

‘Yes, that’s in the northern part of the state, about an hour or so from my hometown. I grew up in the central region, right on the beach. It only takes ten minutes to get to the beach from my house.’

Minho’s smile widens and he looks at you with a slightly envious look in his eyes. You giggle in response.

‘Two other members love the beach, but they’re from Australia.’

‘Australian beaches are probably not that different from American beaches. But I’ve never been to Australia. Have you?’

Minho nods and you see him close his translation app and switch over to his camera roll. His fingers quickly begin scrolling up through the countless amount of photos he has on his phone.

Not wanting to invade his privacy, you look away from his phone and out the doors in the vestibule once more. Not a single soul is walking– or running– along the sidewalks anymore.

Due to the power outage, there’s not even street lights illuminating in the puddles, it’s almost eerie looking. But, surprisingly, you don’t feel uneasy at all. Especially not with Minho sitting at your side.

Said man hums to get your attention, shuffling closer to you, and you look down at his phone. The picture is absolutely gorgeous.

It’s a photo of the beach, you’re assuming in Australia. The red sun is peeking above the horizon and painting the sky a beautiful wash of reds, pinks, and purples, all of the colors melting into one another. The clouds are wispy and glow in the morning sun.

The ocean seems so beautifully blue, even the foam at the crash of the waves is beautiful.

In front of the ocean is a gaggle of boys, it looks like there’s about seven of them. Each of them have bright, beautiful smiles on their faces reaching their eyes.

You’ve never been able to feel joy radiating from a photo like this, it seems to be contagious since you find a smile pulling at your own lips.

“This photo is beautiful,” you whisper, not taking your eyes off of it.

Minho hums, maybe he understood what you said. His thumb moves and he scrolls to the next picture where two of the boys have taken one of the others by his legs and arms and seem to be pretending to toss him into the surf.

A soft giggle comes from your lips and you find yourself leaning towards him a bit to get a better look at the photo. Truly, you didn’t even notice your shoulders brushing against each other, and by his lack of reaction, it seems Minho didn’t either.

“Friends?” you ask him in your choppy Korean.

Minho looks over at you, his face closer to you than before. His eyes widen a bit at your proximity, but he doesn’t back up at all.

“Family,” he corrects you in his soft English.

An even warmer feeling spreads through your chest and you look back down at the photo. They must be his band members, but they just look so much closer than that. It reminds you of all of your friends back home.

Before you can even think twice, you’re opening your own camera roll, scrolling through an endless sea of memories before finding one specific morning you woke up to go watch the sunrise on the beach.

A tiny, awe-struck noise comes from Minho when he looks down at it.

“Sunrise,” you say and then think for a moment. You’re not sure of the Korean you want to say. “Favorite… time.”

He’s so patient when you speak, it absolutely melts your heart. There’s a different air about his softness with you too. He’s not treating you like a child just learning how to speak, no, he’s just being… nice. He’s being sweet and genuine and it speaks volumes about his character.

“Sunrise,” he says in Korean.

“Sunrise,” you repeat, looking up at him. His eyes were already trained on your face by the time you looked up. A tiny dusting of pink covers your cheeks. How long has he been looking at you?

A happy smile spreads over his lips, the edges curl up playfully. He nods. “Sunrise. Sunrise.”

“Sunrise.” Your voice says softly once more before looking back down at your phone.

Swiping through a few more pictures, you show him the boardwalk that runs down the beaches by your house. Everything from shops, to amusement park rides, to lemonade and ice cream stands litter the entirety of the shore.

He points down at the ferris wheel and shakes his head. “No,” he says simply.

“No?” you ask with a laugh. “Why not?”

“No… no high,” he shakes his head and motions his hands around to emphasize his point.

“Best picture,” you giggle holding your hand up in the air to emphasize the height aspect, then you’re swiping to the next picture taken from the top of the ferris wheel. This time, it was sunset. “Sunset.”

“Sunset.” A pause. “My… My… favorite time.”

A soft hum bubbles up in your throat. He loves sunset whereas you love sunrise. How cute.

“Sunset is beautiful,” you say slowly. Your eyes are still on your phone when you swipe to another photo.

“Beautiful,” Minho whispers softly.

Humming, you nod. “Yes, beautiful.”

A soft puff of air comes out of his nose and fans out over your cheek. When did he get this close? You look up at him and almost bump his nose with yours.

Minho’s head flinches back a bit at your sudden movement, but he makes no move to get further away from you.

He sighs softly, his eyes flitting all over your face, taking in every one of your features. “Beautiful,” he murmurs.

Your eyes widen, that pink blush making its way back to your face. You can’t even help the tiny, giddy giggle that bubbles in your throat. You look down shyly, biting your bottom lip.

Tender, gentle fingers lift your chin back up. Truly, you didn’t notice how cold your skin was until his warm touch spread on your skin.

Is this really happening?

A shiver races down your spine and a soft shudder comes out of your lips. Minho’s eyes look down at your lips and then down at your arm where goosebumps begin to raise.

He pulls away gently, making your brows furrow. Did you do something wrong? Maybe you misread his–

He’s shrugging off his hoodie.

Oh, he thinks you're cold.

Before you can even think to tell him you’re okay, he’s pulling your shoulder forward a bit so he can drape it over your back, bundling you up in such a pleasant, soft warmth. With small, fussy movements, he’s closing the hoodie around your body.

Perhaps you didn’t even notice how cold you were until you were suddenly surrounded in a warmth that can be compared to the fuzziest blanket you own. Not to mention the absolutely delightful scent that wafts upwards into your nose from the fabric.

It’s such a clean, cozy, calming scent. It’s like you buried your nose into the Mahogany Teakwood candle at Bath and Body Works.

Your eyes stay trained on his face while he bundles you up tightly. His hands gently grab your arms and rub up and down a few times to create even more warmth.

“Better,” he murmurs, finally looking up to meet your eyes.

How is it that a stranger has wormed himself into your heart like this? His tender gaze makes your soul feel calm, like those pictures of the morning surf under the sunrise.

“Thank you,” you whisper back to him. Your hands come up to grab at the hoodie, curling into the fabric.

Minho smiles back at you, you can see how his smile grows as he watches you relax into his clothing. There’s no space between your shoulders as you rest against adjacent walls, your two bodies have melted into the corner.

There’s a clap of thunder outside, but neither of you move. Your feet shuffle on the floor as you bring your knees closer to your chest. His legs adjust around yours, feeding them under your bent knees and tangling your limbs up further.

It’s so hard to break Minho’s eye contact, but you do it slowly, looking down at your phone and opening up the translate app once more. His soft breathing hits your cheek with every exhale.

‘You’re too nice to a stranger.’

Minho hums, almost in agreement. He picks up his phone and types back.

‘I’m usually not.’

You read the statement and then look at him, your head cocked to the side. Your brows furrow in confusion, but he types more before you can even ask another question.

‘I don’t know why I feel drawn to you.’

The text looks right back at you. Your heart flutters in your chest and you know that your cheeks get redder and redder by the second. Still, you can’t contain the giddy laugh that makes its way past your lips.

You bite the inside of your cheek to try and hide the smile, but it only makes Minho smile wider. His hand slowly comes up towards your cheek. Right before he’s able to make contact, he stops, hovering over your skin and gazing into your eyes.

A silent question is asked through his eyes. It’s a language that you don’t need any sort of app for. An answer is communicated right back.

Soft, tender warmth spreads over your cheek, radiating all throughout your body in the most gentle glow. His thumb caresses over your cheek bone, swiping gentle strokes back and forth.

You feel the same as him, that’s the strange part. There’s something so alluring about him that you just can’t put your finger on it. He’s pulling you in like a magnet and you don’t even want to fight against it.

There’s so many words sitting on the tip of your tongue, but you know that each and every one of them would fall on deaf ears. Nothing that you can say in the moment would make sense to him.

Exhales are shared and mingled together in the minimal space between your faces,

“Beautiful,” he whispers for your ears only. Not like there’s anyone else to hear it except the ATM sitting dormant in the corner of the vestibule. Not even the mice in the walls would have been able to hear his murmur.

Love at first sight was something you always gawked and scoffed at. You always thought that it was such a Hallmark invention, that there was no way you would be able to just look at someone once and immediately fall head over heels for them.

But here you were, sitting on a dirty floor, feeling your heart beating faster and faster in your chest. Letting your face be cradled by a man you didn’t know two hours ago. By the man who patiently worked with you to communicate.

How is this even possible?

You can count on one hand the amount of things you know about one another.

Minho, who is a famous idol in Korea, who loves sunset and hates heights, who has the most expressive brown eyes you’ve ever seen.

Minho, who did whatever he could just to talk to you when he could have just as easily sat in silence on the other side of the vestibule.

His hand slowly drags down your cheek, each finger gliding down your skin towards your jawline to lift under your chin.

Another silent question passes through both of you in the one language you seem to both be fluent in.

Your eyes flick down to his lips and he hears you loud and clear.

Minho leans in slowly, his lips brushing against yours in a featherlight touch. But, despite how soft the kiss is, heat spreads through your body in a grand wave, rushing through your fingertips and into your toes.

The first press is long and sweet, the two of you simply melting into the sensation of being locked together.

He pulls away only for a moment, his eyes gazing down at your lips before he swoops in again, this time his movements a bit quicker.

His hand returns to your cheek, guiding your head to tilt to the side to gain better access to your lips.

A soft sigh leaves your nose and your own hand travels up to grab at his shirt gently, just needing to hold onto him in any way possible.

Minho responds to your sigh, his lips moving a bit faster against yours. Both of your lips part and close, moving like mirror images of one another. Every few kisses, your noses brush against one another, but it doesn’t deter you from your actions at all.

Slowly, your hand travels from his shirt up to his neck, running up the side of his flushed skin. He feels feverish to the touch and it only spurs you on to keep moving. At the contact on his own body, Minho lets out a tiny grunt against your lips, his kisses stutter for a moment but he’s back to kissing you after just a moment.

Up, up, up, your hand travels over his moving jaw, to his cheek, then moving back to thread in his soft, brown trusses of hair. God, everything about him is just so perfect. It’s like you’re combing your fingers through the softest of cotton.

His kisses are getting deeper, little sighs come from both of your mouths as the passion continues on. Minho’s body turns towards yours a bit more, his knees canting up and almost forcing your legs onto his lap.

Tentatively, you feel his tongue poke out from between his lips, licking gently at your lower lip. You don’t even hesitate to give him access to your mouth. A gentle moan claws its way up your throat as his tongue licks into your mouth.

The hand on your cheek grips you a bit tighter, holding your face to his– as if you would want to try and move away from Minho and his addicting kisses.

“I just can’t help it,” he whispers in Korean against your spit, soaked lips before capturing them once more. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Y/N.”

All you catch is your name and it sends a shiver down your spine. You don’t even need to know what else he said, his tone says it all. The way it comes out in a breathy exhale is enough to send your mind reeling.

“Please,” you murmur into his mouth before he presses his lips to yours once more with the same amount of passion and need in his actions.

More and more rain hits the glass doors, becoming the only sound that can be heard in the room except for your shared exhales, pants, and breathy moans.

Slowly, the kisses begin to calm down. Minho pulls away for a moment to take a long breath. His thumb moves to brush against your lower lip like a butterfly landing on a flower.

His eyes open just a crack, gazing down at your mouth with a hazy look in his eye. As he slowly catches his breath, he presses his forehead against yours, his fingers brushing along the heated skin on your face.

“Forgive me, I didn’t do things in order,” he whispers. “I should’ve taken you out first.”

Your eyes open and you look at him in confusion. “Hm?”

His jaw clenches before he swallows and he takes another long moment to look over your face, his features soft and welcoming.

There’s some movement as his other hand blindly pats around his lap for his phone. He can’t physically tear himself away from you long enough to even look down.

Another tiny laugh comes from your lips.

Your fingers move out of his hair to come around and gently run over his features, brushing against his jawline, to then trace up to his lips and up the length of his nose, memorizing each and every detail.

Minho melts into your touch, his face moving closer to your touch, seeking you out.

His hand finally finds his phone and he grabs it blindly, flipping it around in his lap and tearing his gaze away from your face to glance down at it.

Thumbs are flying across the screen to type at his translate app. He’s typing so quickly on his phone that you can't help but laugh a bit.

Before he’s able to turn the phone around, there are a few sharp knocks against the glass of the vestibule. The two of you practically jump out of your skin and your heads whip over to the doors.

Red and blue lights are flashing outside and it looks like two police officers are standing outside, peering in at you both. They wave when they see they’ve caught your attention.

Minho looks at the police officers, then to you, then back to the officers, and then back to you once more. His mouth opens and closes a few times and he tries to form a few words but you’re untangling your limbs from one another.

In a moment, you’re both on your feet as the officers work on unlocking the doors from the outside.

Minho gently grabs at your arm and you look down where he’s touching and your heart sinks a little. His eyes look a little questioning and desperate.

“Oh,” you say sadly. You shrug off his jacket, and hand it back to him. Minho’s eyebrows pull together and his lips part. He looks down at the jacket and then up at you.

“No,” he says firmly.

“Are you two alright?” The police officer calls inside in Korean.

“We’re okay,” Minho responds without breaking eye contact with you. He puts a hand on his jacket still dangling over your arm and pushes it back towards you.

“Minho?” you ask, looking at him and then at the officer approaching you both.

“We apologize for the delay, but we knew you two were safe, so we had to prioritize,” the officer says.

You blink at him blankly for a moment before then looking back at Minho.

“She’s a foreigner,” he says to the officer, finally looking away from you. “She doesn’t know Korean.”

“Ah,” the officer responds. “My apologies. You can tell her that she’s free to go.” He nods at the two of you and motions towards the door. You take his hint and slowly begin follow him.

Once again, Minho tugs on your arm and you pause, turning around to look at him. He’s holding his phone up to your face with a pleading look in his eye.

‘Can I please buy you a drink?’

A wide smile spreads across your cheeks and you can’t deny the relief that you feel inside your chest. The moment your lips twitch upwards, Minho immediately mirrors it.

“Yes,” you respond. “I love to go.”

He chuckles at your choppy Korean once more before taking his jacket out of your hands and wrapping you inside it once more. This time, he grabs the hood and pulls it up over your head.

With a satisfied hum, he nods and laces your fingers together.

“Come,” he says confidently.

“Lead way.”

[rinhaler]

Trigger Finger Ready and Got Nowhere To Run To

Did you ever imagine your boyfriend would offer up your body to solve a yakuza dispute? No, but you aren't surprised.

✧˖*°࿐ : 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ yakuza!ryomen sukuna x f!reader x yakuza!toji fushiguro

Genre: filthy filthy porn with a plot Notes: biggest happy bday to the dilf of dilfs (and my husband of husbands), toji!! (++ sukuna bc they r both beefy n hot :3) Warnings: 18+, dub/noncon, mentions of violence/murder, toxic!relationship, free use ♡, manipulation, jealousy, fem!Uraume, degradation ♡, praise, no prep, oral fixation ♡, size!kink, daddy!kink, choking (hands + belt), slight breathplay, exhibitionism, spanking, dacryphilia ♡, dumbification, creampie(s), calls your pussy “she/her”, slight cucking, oral (m+f receiving), restraints, fingering ♡, pussy spanks, squirting ♡, multiple orgasms, double penetration!(one hole), brief anal mentioning, breeding ♡, belly bulge ♡, pet names (princess, brat, good girl, sweetheart). Words: 15.2k

You’re numb.

Only mentally, numb, to the word which you willingly leapt into. A world with bloodied rivers and bodies piled to the height of the highest mountains. None of it bothers you, not anymore.

Talks of murder and dismemberment barely reach your ears as you flip through the pages of your magazine. You aren’t sure why Sukuna insisted that you be here. He likes to show you off, you suppose. He likes to flaunt what he possesses, and his men never will.

“How much longer?” you whisper, eyes scanning the pages on the gossip mag in your hands. You’d rather be reading a copy of Vogue, but one of Sukuna’s idiotic subordinates picked up the wrong magazine in a hurry.

Actually… You haven’t seen him since.

“What have I told you?” your lover whispers back, he leans over to you. His head turns away from looking at the men in the room as the meeting goes on. But their boss sharing his attention with you rather than the subject at hand earns a few nosy onlookers watching you converse. “Be a brat in private, not here.”

You sigh, crossing one leg over the other as you carry on reading. Sukuna’s hand rests on your thigh before he scowls at the men who’d dare to look at him with an emotion other than fear in their eyes.

He stands up, staring down silently at everyone in the room. It even manages to get your attention. The dread he’s able to instill into his subordinates is more than just impressive to you. It’s exhilirating. Sukuna is a king, and not just to you. To his little brother sitting nearby as the meeting continues. To the subordinates he trusts and who hang on his every solitary breath. And to the public.

People know who you are, now.

You’re Sukuna’s girl.

You were nothing, until him.

He was quite fond of your big mouth and downright horrible attitude when you met. He liked that you didn’t know who he was, and you didn’t hold back when he accidentally bumped into you while shopping. You were wearing a white sundress that hugged every inch of your body, and the coffee in your hand turned the material murky and hideous.

The men surrounding him and ready to silence you for good weren’t even registered in your mind. You didn’t even notice they were there until the friend you were shopping with told you to shut up.

You insulted him, sure. But Sukuna was barely listening. He was too drawn to the way the liquid made your already tight dress cling and stick in all of the right places. Your decision to go braless became painfully obvious to anyone who’d dare let their eyeline drop to your chest.

He dismissed his men, earning a sigh of relief from you and your friend. You watched him carefully as he pulled out his wallet.

“I ruined your dress, huh? Let me buy you a new one, and a new coffee.” he told you. Your eyes bulged as you saw the fat wad of cash in his hand. He smirked, watching your hand hesitate back and forth as you were unsure whether to accept it.

Before him, you weren’t wealthy.

The opposite, really.

You were barely making ends meet and every penny you had was spent on living essentials and rent. The money he offered you was enough for more than that. He was handing you the option to live a little. But before you could take it, before you could fully grasp the bank notes in his hand, he flicked his wrist away.

“I want your number for the pleasure of this expensive meeting.” he grinned.

In hindsight, it was incredibly stupid to accept money from a yakuza man. It seemed like too good of an offer to turn down, though.

For the pleasure of knowing Sukuna and that chance meeting, there have been ups and downs. Everything you knew before Sukuna is your old life. You can’t remember the last time you saw those friends you had. You haven’t been back to your old apartment in over a year, though you know Sukuna still pays the rent on it.

It’s used for some kind of illegal activities, you’re sure. You don’t know why else he’d still pay for it otherwise.

Your old clothes weren’t good enough for you anymore. That’s how Sukuna felt. And with each extortionate purchase he made, you began to agree. You can no longer bear the thought of wearing some cheap, discounted item like you used to. Your entire wardrobe is designer, and you’re like a new woman.

If anyone from your past could see you now, they wouldn’t recognise you.

You don’t care, though. You’ve been poor and you’ve been miserable. What Sukuna gave you that day wasn’t just money, it was an opportunity to cast the old you aside. You’re glamorous, you’re taken care of.

But most importantly, you’re loved.

You’re an object, a doll for him to play with.

But he loves you.

It’s apparent in the way you are in private together. He can be so many things in so many ways. But you know that you are more loved by him than you’ve ever been in any other relationship. He loves you more than friends and family combined.

To Sukuna, you’re everything.

“Listen. Up.” he starts. You know he doesn’t mean you. He wouldn’t mind if you kept your nose buried in your tacky magazine for the entire day. And yet, you find yourself closing it and putting it down on the desk in front of you. Your sole focus is on him. “My wife and I have better things to be doing than sitting here listening to this shit. Figure out this territorial dispute, today, or I’m going to lose my patience.”

His wife.

Everyone’s eyes fall on you when he refers to you as such, and it takes every ounce of concentration and sheer will power to stop yourself from smiling. Your face remains straight and composed, but there are two men who know you enough to see through the façade.

Sukuna, and his brother.

The elder of the two looks down at you, only because he loves to see you squirm because of him. And he’s proud of you, oh so proud that you are well behaved and know that you should appear as strict as he is.

Yuuji, however, has to turn away so no one can see how much he wants to laugh. He’s always liked you; he likes that his brother likes you and he likes how nice you are when you warm up to people. People like him. He’s gotten to know you through being his brother’s second in command. If Sukuna can’t be by your side, Yuuji will be.

And he thinks it’s cute, really, how much you love his big brother. The big brother that most would see as nought more than a terrifying monster. A murderer and a fiend who can so easily ruin lives just because he feels like it.

Yuuji thinks it’s downright adorable.

He’s snapped out of his thoughts when his big brother whistles. He watches as you hurriedly stuff your magazine back into your handbag and follow him to the exit. Yuuji follows, too, after his brother gives him a commanding look.

“You shouldn’t lie.” you mutter, leaving the room and walking by Sukuna’s side as Yuuji trails behind you both. Sukuna turns his head sideways so he can look down at you. His tattooed hands remain in his pants pockets as you approach the exit of the building. You keep looking forwards, though. And he smirks.

It’s a cute little pout he recognises.

“You are my wife.” he tells you. “Don’t be a brat because I haven’t proposed, how droll.”

You scoff, finally looking at him, your full glossy lips seem to pout even harder when you actually face him.

“You know what happens when you get married for real, princess?” he asks. And you scoff, again, because you know what he’s going to say. He says the same thing every time you have this truly trite conversation. “Boring sex. And then, none at all. And I know you can’t live without this cock in you for too long.”

“You’re disgus—”

“Speaking of which,” he stops walking and turns to face you. It makes you laugh every time he talks about how boring your sex life would be if you got married. You aren’t sure how true it is, but it amuses you, nonetheless. He gets his wallet from his inner breast pocket and withdraws his credit card, handing it to you with a wide smile on his face. “That’s what you get when you’re a good girl. Thank you.” he grabs the crown of your head with a large palm and plants a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“I thought we were talking about sex, not money.” you speak, and he smiles. “Which do you think I prefer?”

“With me, sex. In general, money.” he tells you, and you suppose he’s right. “But with money, you can buy things for sex. Unless you want to be a brat, I can take back the card. Otherwise, buy a pretty set for daddy to fuck you in.”

He loves how your demeanour changes at the use of your favourite name for him when you’re alone. Yuuji is here, yes, but he knows the intricacies of your relationship so there’s no need to be concerned.

“Theeeere she is, daddy’s good girl.” he approaches you; his hand settles on your waist. A simple cue for Yuuji to know he doesn’t want to be here. He walks on ahead; and you both watch him walk by before focusing on each other again. He backs you up until your shoulder blades rest against the wall. You tilt your head to kiss him, but he pulls his head back to tease you. “Why aren’t you always a good girl for me?” he wonders.

You allow your head to loll back against the wall with a gentle thud. He watches you, intently, wondering what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. His eyes drop as your right hand gently traces over his crisp black dress shirt until you find his tie.

And you tug.

His body cages you in and you will never get over what a behemoth of a man he is. He’s so intimidatingly large. You’re like a little mouse about to be devoured by a viper. And yet, somehow, you’re in control. He gasps, albeit quietly, but there is pleasure behind it as you pull him closer.

“You’d be so bored if I was always good, daddy. And you fuck me better when I’m a brat for you.” you tell him, voice filled with lust as your sultry tones reach his ears. His cock twitches at your words, although he’s tired of you having the upper hand. One hand grabs your jaw, and you know if he wanted to, he could break it with ease. But you smile, willingly.

If you are to die, it would be an honour by his hand.

He kills you with a kiss, instead. Your thoughts dissipate as you allow your lips to lock and teeth to clash as you needily make out. His body presses into yours, uncaring for the place or potential audience that could find you at any moment. A soft, needy moan slips by your lips as you feel his hardening bulge grind between your legs. It makes him smile, smugly and proud as he steals continuous little noises from you.

“You only keep your fucking mouth shut when you’re getting this dick.” he comments, his tongue licks against yours before he suffocates your desperately mewling with heated kisses once again. He pulls away, whispering in your ear. “You’re nice ‘n wet for daddy, yeah? Want my cock, baby?”

“Mhmm…” you nod, raising your leg to rest on his hip. His fingers squeeze into the flesh of your thigh as he helps it settle in place. His kisses are barely there anymore. Soft pecks as he gradually pulls away until you’re whimpering and begging for more. “Please, daddy… please.”

“Awe,” he gives you one final kiss before looking over his shoulder to see some of the higher ranked members of his organisation approach. He pulls away, leaving you completely breathless. “Brats don’t decide when their holes get used. Their daddy’s do.” he reminds you.

You’re left panting with your hand on your chest as he walks away. He looks over his shoulder at you before giving you a self-satisfied smirk as he waves at you.

“Keep your cunt wet for daddy.” he tells you.

You scoff, fleeing the scene quickly as the humiliation of his words surges through you. The lack of respect and discretion should make you furious. And honestly, it does. But that feeling of anger and fury is overridden with pure, unadulterated lust.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” Yuuji asks as you walk through the double doors and out into the blaring summer sun. The heat is unbearable, you’re sure the sidewalk would steam if you poured water onto it. “Are you okay? Thirsty? Can I carry your jacket?” Yuuji wonders. And you nod.

“Thanks, Yuu.” you smile, taking off your coat for him to hold for you. “You’re taking care of me again, I guess.” you sigh, but try to remain optimistic. You both know you’d rather Sukuna be the one taking you shopping, but you don’t hate spending time with his brother.

“What are we shopping for today?” he asks, opening the door to his car for you to climb into. He puts your coat in the back and rushes around to driver’s seat. “You can go crazy since he won’t be there to stop you.” he winks. You giggle a little as he buckles himself in and starts the car. “Oh, he wanted you to get some lingerie, right?”

You go quiet, looking down at your hands as you nod quickly. It’s almost unnoticeable, but Yuuji knows. He starts driving to a boutique he knows you like, smiling to himself. You’re so brazen and loud most of the time. You can be so confident and fearless.

But he thinks it’s sweet that you get so shy about things like this.

“I’m not judging you, y’know.” he tells you, looking to the side to see if you’re listening. You raise your head to look at him, the slight anxiety you feel slowly leaves your body the longer you look at him. “You’re a good friend to me. I’m happy Sukuna met you, otherwise I wouldn’t know you.”

“Yuuji…” you respond, you can’t stop yourself from smiling as you hear his sweet words. It makes him laugh, though. He’s happy he managed to break you out of your nervous sulk. “I wonder sometimes… if I’m crazy.”

“You are.” he tells you. You lightly slap his arm, “Hey, I’m driving!” he laughs. “You have some kind of arrangement with my brother, right? That doesn’t matter. You love him, don’t you? I know he loves you too. He’s told me enough, and I can see it in his eyes. You’re crazy, but he is too.”

An arrangement.

You’re happy it’s a secret, even to Yuuji. If anyone from your past life knew what you agreed to with Sukuna, they’d be ashamed. You figure anyone would be, really. But you don’t care. Yuuji is right.

Sukuna is crazy.

But so are you.

“Thanks, Yuuji.” you smile, weakly. “You’re a good friend to me, too.”

Sukuna is possessive, he’s greedy.

But what Sukuna doesn’t know won’t hurt him. You model a few lingerie sets to his little brother. And Yuuji, of course, is a perfect gentleman about it. His eyes rake over your body, though you can detect a lack of lust in him. There’s another woman on his mind that you know to be the reason. He’s a lovesick puppy, and you are off limits. He isn’t stupid, but he’s happy to help you shop.

Sukuna should be the one here with you now, anyway. He should be the one watching you try on panties and bras and pretty baby dolls. And yet, he’s sent you away to give himself some peace while he works on whatever the hell it is he does all day. Threatening and being a general bastard to the city at large.

If he were here, you know you’d be getting fucked within an inch of your life in every pretty ensemble you try on.

“Yuuji, what is your brother doing today?” you ask him, pouting a little. It feels humiliating to have to ask. You should know where your boyfriend is and who he’s with. Even Yuuji looks taken aback. Does Sukuna often keep you in the dark? It’s not like what he does for a living is some big secret.

“… There’s a huge territorial dispute right now…” he starts, looking at the store clerks and urging them to walk away if they know what’s good for them. They do, giving you two the space to talk. “He and the other higher ups are having a follow up meeting to decide what to do.”

You huff and start to undress as you head back into the changing room.

“Uraume?” you wonder, already knowing the answer. “Is she there?”

“Well, she’s Sukuna’s right hand. After me, obviously.” he tells you, and it only earns another huff of annoyance from you.

You know what Sukuna will want is for you to pick a pretty lingerie set to wear under your clothes all day until he gets home. You’re not doing that, though, not now. Not when you know he’s with her. He’s lucky you’re even still buying any in the first place. Yuuji watches you as you tell the staff to ring you up, a look almost akin to sorrow lingering in his soft brown eyes.

“Nothing is going on between them, y’know.” he tries to assure you. All you can do is scoff. The notion of remaining silent dies as you begin to think about how many positions he’s probably fucking her in while you run around and play the role of the oblivious wife.

A wife without a ring, at that.

“No offence Yuuji, I’m not exactly going to take your word for it. He’s your brother.” you sigh. He grabs the shopping bags for you once you pay the extortionate price. Sukuna had told you to get a set, not several. But you think it’s the least you deserve after finding out he’s with Uraume instead of you. “I want some new jewellery, let’s go.”

You hold the door open for Yuuji before you walk side by side towards the nearest jewellery store. Sukuna’s feelings are the least of your concern, whether he’s frustrated with your purchases or not doesn’t matter to you. Not right now. You’re hellbent on giving his credit card a workout before you go home.

The air conditioning hits you as you enter. Yuuji finds a seat as you begin to browse, dumping your shopping bags by his feet. He keeps a watchful eye on you as you’re shown around at some pieces you might like. A necklace is calling your name, but new earrings would be nice, too. But with the way you’re feeling, you might just leave with everything that you take even the vaguest of interest in.

You hear Yuuji’s phone ring behind you, and it forces you to look at him expectantly. It’s embarrassing, really, how badly you’re hoping it’s Sukuna to ask for your location so he can be here with you. But his younger sibling shakes his head despondently, feeling sad that he’s letting you down.

“Shit, I have to go.” Yuuji tells you, and your brows furrow. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been left alone. What could be so important? He looks at you, eyes serious and almost desperate as he wills you to listen to him. “I won’t be long, please don’t leave. Sukuna will kill me if anything happens to you.”

“It’s fine, Yuu.” you nod, barely looking at him anymore as you admire the glimmering jewels in their glass display cases once more. “I’ll be here.”

He smiles, gratefully, and squeezes your shoulder. His speed is impressive, you’re surprised you haven’t been left with a dust cloud as he leaves your side and departs the store. You have no idea what’s happening, but it must be serious if Yuuji had to rush off like that.

The clerk assisting you can’t help but fawn over how gorgeous you look as he allows you to try on a diamond necklace that caught your eye. It’s simple, something you’d wear every day. It’s glamorous but not overstated.

“There are matching earrings, if you’re interested.” the clerk tells you, and you nod. “And there’s—”

“If it matches, I’ll take it all.” you smile. The clerk nods and takes the necklace from you. You watch for a few minutes as he wanders around and collects everything you’ve asked for, but you soon get bored and begin browsing again.

You raise your head as you see two men with black hair enter. You unintentionally stare, but soon avert your gaze when another necklace catches your eyes. You hear the men discuss something about a sister, and you deduce they are likely here to purchase gifts. You feel your blood run cold as they become silent, and you feel them glaring at you.

You’ve gotten a sense of when people are sizing you up, now. Even if it’s something as tedious as being leered at. Being with Sukuna has taught you to sense danger, however small.

“I’d like this necklace as well, please.” you speak, hoping your confidence and signalling of the staff will get them to stop staring at you. The clerk nods and sends another member of staff to your side to aid you.

You look in the direction of the men. Truthfully, you aren’t sure if you had tried to warn them that you were onto them with a look their way. It seems like you’re more interested in scoping out a potential threat.

“It’ll suit you.” the younger one says. “Maybe we should get something like that for Tsumiki?”

The older man is silent.

Your skin tightens together, breaking out in goosebumps as his looming presence gets closer and closer to you. You clear your throat, hoping that it will be enough to tell him that you know he’s there and you don’t want him to be. It does little to dissuade him, though.

He stares at you, urging you to return it. There’s an uncomfortable yet palpable silence between the two of you as you look into each other’s eyes. His face is sculpted, yet damaged. And still, you find him beautiful. A scar stabs betwixt his lips, though it’s aged and healed.

It’s a warning, in itself, that you shouldn’t trust him.

But his gaze is serious and endearing all in one. His eyes are beautiful, just like the man he’s with. There’s no doubt, now, that they’re related. They’re like a copy of one another. Father and son, you suspect. Though they remind you of Sukuna and Yuuji. The man in front of your appears to be the same age as your lover, maybe a little older. Yuuji is around the same age at the young man accompanying him.

You find yourself lost in his eyes, an odd compulsion to figure out this man and his life story. Who is he and what could he want with you? Your guard has been lowered, despite it being unwise. You should be more alert, if anything.

But those eyes are—

“You’re staring, sweetheart.” he tells you, breaking his eyes away from you to look at the clerk behind you. He curls his finger, a simple instruction that you seem to miss until you see him holding the necklace in his hand. “May I?” he asks, acting before you even answer.

You turn around and make sure your hair isn’t in the way so he can put it on you. This isn’t right, you know it isn’t. You aren’t sure why you’re allowing him to do this. He’s so close that you can feel his breath on the back of your neck, the hairs stand on end when you realise.

He fastens the clasp behind your neck, and casually allows his hand to fall into the small of your back as he guides you to a nearby mirror.

“Suits you.” he tells you, tucking hair behind your ear so he can examine it further. You don’t miss the way his eyes drop to your cleavage, though, and you clear your throat again. It prompts him to slip back into his cool demeanour. “My daughter is around your age. Think she’d like it?”

“I don’t know your daughter. And I don’t know you.” you remind him, earning a soft chuckle from him. You watch him summon the man he brought with him, and now you’re sure he’s his son. After hearing him mention his sister, you manage to put the pieces together.

“I want two of these.” he announces, making sure everyone can hear. You aren’t sure if he’s instructing his son or the clerk beside you. Either way, he hands his credit card to the man he’s with in a similar way Sukuna does to you.

It’s almost… dismissive.

“Two?” you say, curiously.

“I’m buying yours.” he tells you. He shushes you when you go to protest. “You’re brave, hah? Big mouth, attitude, ‘n your pretty too. I like it.”

“I’m spoken for. And expensive things won’t—”

“I know.” he interrupts you, putting his hands in his pockets. He looks over to his son as he pays for the jewellery. You’re nervous, though it’s not entirely because of him. The thought of explaining this to Sukuna sends chills down your spine. “Girls like you are always spoken for. And he looks after you, yeah? Buys you nice things ‘n all that. Figures.”

“… Y-You didn’t tell me your name…” you say, meekly. It’s pathetic and wimpy, though that’s how you feel beneath his divine gaze. He smirks at the sound of your voice, maybe it’s the submission.

“Toji.” he replies, simply. His son approaches him with a single shopping bag, it’s black and sleek with the store logo on the side. It makes you excited and impatient to receive your own purchases. And after this, you have no desire to shop anymore. You want to get home where you know you’re safe. “We ought’a get goin’, Megs.” Toji tells his son, who nods in agreement.

Just as they’re about to leave, Yuuji returns.

He can’t say anything, not right away. If you were looking at him, though, you’d be able to see how much he wants to burst. There’s a vein bulging in his forehead as he looks between the men.

But your eyes are solely on Toji.

His hands remain firmly in his pockets as he walks away and towards the exit. And then he turns around again, fully, facing you head in to gift you with his parting words.

“Give Sukuna my regards, won’t you, sweetheart?” he smirks, leaving the store with his son in tow.

“Fushiguro!” Yuuji yells, though they pay him no mind. He faces you, now, intent on finding out what the hell is going on. “What was that all about? Are you stupid? Seriously stupid? I told you not to talk to anyone!”

“You didn’t, you told me not to leave.” you remind him, and he grunts. “Who were they, Yuuji? I’ve never seen either of them before.” you tell him. He just shakes his head and decides to ignore you. He’s furious, though you can’t figure out why.

Have you really done something so bad?

The fact that Toji seems to know who Sukuna is certainly doesn’t bode well. They’re from rival gangs, clearly. His and his son’s tattoos aren’t like Sukuna’s. His are brazen, confident. He was cocky enough to get them on his face, too. But the Fushiguro’s, as Yuuji had named them, must hide their markings beneath their shirts like most yakuza men tend to.

“Let’s go.” Yuuji speaks, anger lingering in his quiet words as he leads you out of the store and back to his car. “I’ll have to tell Sukuna about this…” he explains, making sure all of your shopping is secure safely in the trunk of his car. You get into the passenger seat and shrug, it makes no difference to you if he tells his brother about this.

You don’t even know what he’s telling him.

It gets later and later into the evening, with no signs of Sukuna returning any time soon.

And you’re ready for him.

You’re fully dressed, wearing the very same clothes you’d worn to go shopping hours earlier. But you had stripped briefly when you got to your room. The lingerie options were almost infinite as you peaked in each and every shopping bag you brought home from the boutique.

He’ll like the pink one most, you suspected.

So, you put it on.

“Where’s Sukuna?” your one and only true friend in this cutthroat world asks through the speaker of your phone. It snaps you from your daze as you recall how the pink lingerie fit your body like a God damn glove while you checked yourself out in the mirror. “You’re doing housewife shit while he’s out having fun?” Nobara continues, and it makes you scoff. There’s laughter in it, but your annoyance towards your lover is evident.

“He’s with Uraume.” you say, calmly, as you continue washing the mountains of dishes in the sink. You aren’t normally one to do chores, but you thought it would distract you from your worries. Even if only for a moment.

“Oh I hate her.”

“Me too.” you agree. Something tells you Nobara doesn’t feel as strongly as she’s making out, she’s just showing support. You appreciate it all the same, though. “There’s something going on… I know there is.”

“No way. You don’t know, you just think you do. But even I can see how much he worships you. He’d never cheat!” she says confidently, and you wish you could believe her. It’s not like you’d leave him, even if he was.

He’s conditioned you to need him, after all. How can you go back to your old apartment when it’s his, now? Your old, pathetically paying job won’t cut it, either. Sukuna has gotten you used to the finer things in life, things you don’t want to lose. Your friends, your family, it’s all gone and forgotten. All you have is him.

There’s no leaving him, now.

“… I don’t trust him, sometimes.” you confess, quietly. You aren’t even sure if she heard you over the sound of the gushing tap. “I don’t trust—”

The sound of a lock turning in the door stops you from speaking anymore. You look over your shoulder, and you finally see him. He doesn’t say a word as he comes in. He gives you a curt nod as he hangs up his jacket.

“Uh, Nobara, how’s your day been?” you ask, loudly, hoping she’ll get the hint and change the subject.

You tense up a little as you feel Sukuna’s presence looming closer and closer. You put down a plate as you feel him behind you. His body traps yours between his and the sink. You hold your eyes closed lightly as you feel him. Really feel him. You aren’t sure you’ll ever get over his domineering size.

Nobara begins to prattle on about nothing in particular, and relief flows through you. You manage to stifle a heavy breath as Sukuna begins to kiss your neck; though you almost falter as he takes your earlobe softly between his teeth.

“Sukuna, ‘m on the phone.” you angle your head to whisper, but he just silences you with a kiss instead. And instinctively, you’re smiling again. You’re so simple, maybe even stupid. It’s always so easy for him to placate you, even without knowing you’re upset with him.

“Don’t care,” he growls into your mouth, kissing you again. “You agreed, did you not?” he asks, feeling you up over your clothes. Your head droops back onto his shoulder as you feel him caress your tits through the fabric of your dress. His free hand roams between your legs, pushing the black material covering your thighs between them and dampening it with your slick.

“Mmpf,” you hum, lightly, biting your lip. You can’t help but wriggle and squirm beneath his touch. As much as you’d prefer to stop so you can wrap up what you’re doing first, you did agree to this when you started dating him.

“Anyway, I still don’t think Sukuna would fuck Uraume.” Nobara speaks, and you both freeze for a moment.

As she lists her reasons, in gratuitous detail, Sukuna’s hands move across your body. They’re slow, but with purpose. Your dress settles back into place once he moves his left hand away from your core. He wraps his arm around your midsection, tightly, giving you no chance to flee. His right hand moves a little quicker, fingers brush along your collarbone until he finds your neck. He somehow manages to choke you, slightly, while holding your jaw with his thumb and index finger.

And he makes you look at him.

He doesn’t speak, the sound of Nobara discussing everything you’ve told her about him and Uraume is the only sound either of you hear. His red eyes terrify you the longer it goes on. The longer he goes without speaking a word.

“’Kuna—”

“You’re jealous of Uraume?” he says, loud enough for Nobara to hear. She’s quiet. Uncharacteristically so. And then your heart plummets when you hear the beep that signifies the call has ended. “Still?”

“What do you— Sukuna!” you yell, feeling him pull your dress down your body. You try to scold him. You try to focus on finishing the dishes so you don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how desperately you crave him. But it’s all in vain as he spanks you upon seeing the pretty pink set hugging your body.

“Good girl.” he tells you, spanking you again.

The chore of washing cups and plates is soon abandoned as he yanks your hair by the roots. Your back arches gloriously, and he can’t help but slap your ass repeatedly until it stings. He wants to hurt you, just because he loves you.

He’s insulted that you think so little of him.

“What happened to you, princess?” he asks, spanking you again. “You never used to be so insecure. That’s what I liked about you.”

Liked?

“Don’t— c-care—”

“Oh?” he interrupts, “You really want to be a brat for me right now? I’m not in the mood, but you can test me if you’re feeling brave.” he warns you, and you manage to shake your head in defiance.

“Sukuna, I just— I don’t like her.” you tell him, you see an eyebrow raise out of the corner of your eye. It’s a curious look you can’t quite place. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to say something so honest, or maybe he just can’t put his finger on why you feel this way about her. “She has feelings for you… it’s so obvious.”

“And?” he speaks, his hand that had been around your throat moves to the bend of your knee. He effortlessly raises your leg so that it rests on the marble countertop. His breathing is heavy and stained with alcohol as it fans across your shoulder.

Your breath hitches as he hooks his finger into the seat of your panties, moving the pink material into the crease of your thigh. You shiver just slightly as the cool air of the air-conditioned room hits your folds, and he growls as he holds you tighter.

With one hand, he unbuckles his belt and manages to free his length from his trousers. You gasp as you feel him press his heavy tip between your folds, the tacky wet sound reverberates through the room. He isn’t targeting anywhere specific, but he snarls each time you mewl when he catches against your entrance.

“Unff— fu-uck!” you keen as he finally pushes into you.

“This,” he starts, slowly sinking inside of your welcoming slot. Your eyes roll over white with each agonising delve into your walls and towards your sweet spot. He spanks you once more, demanding your concentration as he tries to drill his words into your before he starts drilling his cock into you. “It’s all yours, y’hear me, princess?” he explains as he carefully rocks his hips, his chest swells with pride as he repeatedly nudges against your g-spot.

“S-Sukuna,” you pant. “Daddy, I love you.” you tell him, tears spill down your cheeks as you pathetically confess. He knows, of course he knows. But his ego will never tire of hearing those four precious words from the lips of his favourite girl.

“Yeah? Y’love daddy?” he asks, faux sympathy in his voice as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. “Hurts my feelings when you don’t trust me.” he lies.

“’m sorry,” you sob, “I trust you, daddy, ‘m sorry!” you continue, and you melt into his touch when you feel him softly kiss your cheek again and again as his thrusts get faster and faster and faster.

He’s so deep you can feel him in your throat. Your mind is churning, thoughts become liquid the harder and deeper he pounds into you. His teeth sink into your shoulder as he continues, and he shoves his fingers into your mouth to silence your cries.

You suck and lick and lave over them as if your life depended on it.

He forces your mouth open wide, strings of drool dribble from your lips and tongue as he repeatedly fingers dangerously close to your throat. He laughs maniacally when he flies to close to the sun, triggering your gag reflex.

“Oh, baby, got real tight for daddy like that.” he tells you. Your hands search for something, anything to grasp as he ruins you from the inside. “So fuckin’ tight for me, princess. Wanna cum?”

“Yes, yes please.” is what you’re hoping to say despite his fingers still invading your orifice. “Please daddy, n-need it.”

“Mmm, good fucking girl.” he praises you. “So needy, hah? I’ll be good to you this once. So cum.”

You brace yourself, twisting your torso so that you’re facing him. His fingers remain in your mouth, but your fixation on them has dies a slow, painful death the longer this encounter carries on. His fingering slows, but the spit leaking from your mouth still pools out and covers whatever it squelches on top of.

“Go on, cum for daddy.” he orders.

And you do.

You cream his length as you lose control of your entire body and give it to him. You’re crying so hard but you don’t know why. He licks your cheeks, though, getting off on the taste of the salt and sorrow you’re gifting him with. You convulse as you reach the peak of your orgasm, and he makes sure to keep a careful hold of you.

“Hate you being fucking jealous.” he explains as he chases his own high, the deafening sounds of your genitals meeting again is so sloppy and lewd. If you weren’t so tired, you’re sure your face would flush with heat from the embarrassment of it all. “You’re mine. I only fuck you. I only cum in this perfect cunt. Are you listening? Or did daddy fuck you too fucking stupid?”

“D-Daddy,” you mumble, “love you…” you trail off, exhaustion consuming you as you bargain with yourself to rest your eyes for just a minute.

“Daddy’s slutty girl, yeah?” he grunts, and he’s surprised that you manage to nod in response. “Only shut that big fucking mouth of yours when you’re getting this cock.” he speaks, he hopes you’re listening but he’s not so sure.

With only a few thrusts later, he’s cumming buckets into you. You hum at the sensation, the warmth of being gifted with your daddy’s load is a soothing feeling that makes you feel completely claimed. You’re safe, secure, like this. He plugs his cum inside of you for a while as he refuses to move.

You don’t want to think about the fact that you aren’t ever really going to know the truth. You won’t know if he’s just telling you what you want to hear while he’s out doing exactly what you’re worried about. You won’t truly feel safe unless Uraume goes.

But you know that will never happen.

He pulls out of you, watching as your pussy pulses while he splits open your lips on his fingers. His softening cock jumps at the sight of his sperm gushing out of you and splattering against the cold kitchen tiles below. He angles your body, again, so that he can plant a searing, messy kiss on your lips from behind.

He wipes his dick against your ass, doing a poor job of it before he tucks himself back into his grey trousers. He moves the gusset of your panties back where it belongs to stop anymore cum from dripping out of you.

“I should… clean up…” you say, wistfully as you look at the remaining dishes in the sink and the dollop of sperm on the ground beneath you.

“Don’t worry about it.” he tells you, walking towards your bedroom to find your shopping bags. “Show daddy what else you got today.”

You take a deep breath and stumble a little on unstable legs. He looks behind himself, reaching out to take your hand to support you. He leads you to your room, a little surprised by the amount of new shopping bags spread out.

He lifts you up and places you down carefully on the bed. You bite your lip as he helps you out of your high heels while he’s down on one knee. He watches, attentively, as you throw your head back as he kisses each of your legs.

“I don’t recall telling you to buy jewellery.” he speaks, knowing he didn’t say it at all. You only giggle, which makes his smile grow wider. He rests his body on his knuckles on either side of your thighs, his nose almost touching yours as he examines you. “That one is new, isn’t it?” he asks, reaching up to hold the pendant against his palm. You nod, and he hums.

He takes his time admiring everything as he looks through each and every bag. You’re silent as he searches, not sure what he’s actually looking to find. Sukuna seems pleased with the multitudes of lingerie you’ve returned home with, often looking between the material and yourself as he envisions it on your body.

Though soon enough, he’s looking through the jewellery. He’s full of flattery, for some reason. You can’t help wondering if it’s because of your very obvious insecurity.

Your heart sinks, however, when he picks up the receipt.

“W— uh, what are you doing?” you ask, cursing yourself for not playing it cool in the least.

He’s silent as he looks over each item and price. His eyes drift briefly to look at you before he’s fixated on the receipt again. “I’m checking how much having a bratty princess for a wife has cost me today.” he tells you, his voice almost monotone as he speaks. He picks up each piece of jewellery as he mentally checks it off of the list in his hand. And then his eyes zero in on you once more. Or specifically, the necklace you’re wearing. “Did you steal that?” he asks.

You shake your head.

If there’s one thing you’ve learnt from being with Sukuna, it will never serve you to lie. He knows more than you can possibly imagine. And what he doesn’t know, he figures out quickly.

“… I’m going to fucking kill him.” he speaks through gritted teeth, crumpling up the receipt in his hand. You have no idea who he’s talking about. He stands up, holding the necklace around your neck in a clenched fist. “Tell me, princess. Do you love this necklace? Or did you pick it impulsively?”

“Both,” you nod. “I was only looking at it because— b-but I love it, now.”

He lets go of the pendant, now warm against your skin after being in the palm of your lover despite it being brief. He smooths his hand over your hair and then strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“A lovely gift from a man trying to muscle in on my territory.”

You knew Toji must be yakuza, too. But you had no idea he was such a direct rival of Sukuna’s. It’s unsurprising, though. Maybe they’d been tailing you and Yuuji today. You’d assumed it was a coincidence that they wound up in the same store as you, but you’re no stranger to being naïve.

Sukuna’s territory…

Could he also be referring to you?

“Territorial disputes are standard practice in our line of work, Sukuna.” Uraume starts, trying her best to calm your boyfriend down as he seethes in yet another meeting. “Although she has certainly complicated things.” she speaks, looking at you as her tone becomes more calculated and vicious.

Of course to anyone else, it sounds like she’s just making a point.

But you know better.

“I didn’t complicate anything, thank you, Uraume. I went shopping as I was instructed to do and he just showed up.” you try to defend yourself maturely despite wanting to rip her hair from her scalp.

“No, this isn’t your fault.” Sukuna reassures you. “You shouldn’t have fucking left her you idiot!” he bellows, his voice booming through the room until it reaches his brothers ears. His words seem to echo the longer Yuuji remains silent. He doesn’t even get the chance to talk as Sukuna demands he be quiet. “More and more of them are doing shady shit in areas that I own. Making profit that should be mine. How do we—”

“Yuuji, you’re friendly with his son, right?” you ask. And he shrugs, passively. You’re sure there’s a story there. Perhaps they went to school together given that they’re the same age, but you don’t want to press it and risk him getting in deeper trouble with his sibling. “Do you have a phone number or anything for him?”

“Uh…” Yuuji pats down his body as he looks through his phone. Sukuna watches, everyone watches as he scrolls through his contacts. And finally, he nods.

“Call it.” Uraume orders, Sukuna looks at her and then nods at his brother in agreement.

The tension in the air can be cut with a knife as each ring passes. You feel sick to your stomach the longer it goes on.

Until finally—

“I was wondering when you’d call.” the younger Fushiguro answers, Yuuji places the phone down on the table and puts it on speaker. “My old man has an offer for your brother.”

“Megumi, Sukuna isn’t exactly the negotiating type.” Yuuji explains. “He wants you and your dad dead, to be honest. That shit you pulled at the jewellery store—”

“Is he listening?” Megumi asks. Yuuji looks up to his brother for permission to confirm or deny his presence. The silence lasts a beat too long, and Megumi figures it out for himself. “I’m with Toji, now.” there is a shuffling sound on the other end as he hands his phone over to his father. A large sigh rattles through the speaker, and then he finally speaks.

“Sukuna.” he starts.

“My brother is right, Zen’in, I don’t negotiate.” Sukuna speaks, announcing his presence to them finally. “There is no benefit to me letting you stake your claim on my territory. We’ve killed a few of your men already for your insolence and disrespect. You’ve no idea the lengths I will go to so that you will understand this threat isn’t empty. We won’t just be killing the small fry next time.”

He looks at Uraume, listening carefully as she warns him not to resort to threats of violence so soon. You look between them both, trying to gauge how he’ll respond. He only sighs, agreeing with her, before asking what the negotiation would entail.

“I want to fuck that little girlfriend of yours.” Toji says.

The room falls silent. Sukuna stares daggers at you for a few minutes as if it’s your fault he said something so outrageous. You look around uncomfortably, seeing everyone’s eyes have fallen on you.

You feel dirty.

You feel like a mere bargaining chip, an object for them to make a decision over.

“Everybody out.” Sukuna says, noticing your distress as you feel compelled to hang your head in shame. “NOW.”

Everyone scurries from the room, the only people that remain are yourself, Sukuna, his brother and Uraume. Your lover slams his palm, hard against the table before yelling down the phone at Toji.

“Are you FUCKING joking?” Sukuna shouts, Uraume tries to calm him down but it does little good. “In what world do you think I’d agree to something so stupid?”

You hear Toji chuckle, like he’s considering how to use his words and what he should say. He knows exactly what he wants to tell him in response, but he’s deciding if he wants to rile Sukuna up further or get straight to the point.

“I’ve heard rumours that you use her like a toy.” he starts, a smirk curls on his lip and his scar pulls along with it. You and Sukuna look at each other, wondering who could have found out about your lewd secret. “I’m not… unreasonable. If you comply, I’m willing to come to a binding agreement that we will keep clear of your turf.”

“… Hang up the phone.” Sukuna orders, and Yuuji immediately presses the big red button. Sukuna looks at you, eager to speak. And by his expression, whatever he wants to say seems fuelled by rage. But by a stroke of luck, Uraume intervenes.

“I think you should do it.” she starts. Sukuna directs his angry glare towards her, while you look at her in surprise. “We’ve all heard the rumours, it’s not a secret, Sir. I believe it’s called ‘free use’ yes?”

“Why is that relevant?” you ask.

“Well, you’re used to being used, no? Why is this any different. It would be for Sukuna, for all of us. I’m sure you’d be able to open your legs for a few minutes for the sake of peace.” she speaks, calmly, crossing one leg over the other as she leans back in her seat. You scoff, standing up to argue, but Sukuna splays out his hand and warns you to keep in line. “Sukuna, it’s just sex. You won’t have to pay them off, you won’t have to share your territory that we— that you have worked so hard for. A simple trade.”

He sighs as he looks between you both.

“It’s not that straightforward, at all.” Sukuna tells her. You hope he’ll elaborate but feel a little deflated when he opts to keep quiet instead. You feel comfortable with your so-called arrangement because you’re in love.

At least, that’s what you thought.

“A shame. You continue to be a useless disappointment in this organization.” she tells you. “If it were me, I’d do it.”

“Well, Uraume. It isn’t you. You know why?” you spit back, shoving by Sukuna with the intention of leaving when you’ve said your piece. “Because you are his subordinate. I am his wife.” and with that, you leave.

Uraume is unfazed, however, which would infuriate you more if you were around to see it. Instead you’re leaving with your handbag in tow. You’re stopped, however, when you reach the exit. Sukuna’s men are holding you hostage on his orders. He hasn’t followed you to see if you’re okay. He’s still talking to Yuuji and Uraume as you pace around an empty meeting room.

You’ve always hated this building. Every time you come for a meeting here you’re nauseated by an overwhelming mechanical smell. It’s the office supplies, you assume. The copy machines and printers whir all day and night, the perfect operation taking place to disguise Sukuna’s general misdeeds.

Around twenty minutes later, you’re no longer alone.

Sukuna enters the room and shuts the door behind himself. Your eyes water as you instantly read his expression. You know there’s another way, but he’s obviously made his decision. Uraume’s influence played a part, you don’t doubt.

“I don’t want to. I love you…” you cry. “She’s trying to—”

“Enough.” he silences you, curling his finger. A simple instruction for you to follow him. “I haven’t decided yet, come along.”

He brings you back to the meeting room where you were sitting earlier. He commands Uraume and Yuuji to leave, and they do, Yuuji leaves his phone behind so Sukuna can call Megumi’s phone again.

“I don’t want to share you.” he confesses, pulling you into his lap as he spins the phone in his hand. Each thud against the desk makes your anxiety spike. “Uraume is right, though. It’s a tempting offer for the sake of a few measly minutes.”

“I don’t want to fuck him, Sukuna.” you pout. “I can’t believe you’re even considering it! What if he’s lying and will keep asking to fuck me? I don’t want everyone to find out about it and think I’m some whore. Do you—” you stop, a large knot gets stuck in your throat as you try to remain composed. You feel sick to your stomach, and you hate that you even have to ask. “Do you even love me anymore… Sukuna…” you ask, lower lip trembling as you speak.

“I do, of course I still love you.” he tries to assure you, but it feels half-hearted at best. “I’d prefer you to make a decision; but I want it to be the right one. And remember, you agreed to let me use you. And I will use you for whatever purpose I desire, if that means letting other men use your cunt for the sake of peace… then…”

“’Kuna…”

“I’m talking now.” he stops you, grabbing your cheeks in his hand and squeezing until your lips pucker. “You better spread those pretty legs nice ‘n wide for daddy, I want you to make me proud.”

He lets go, slowly, and uses a single finger to call Megumi back.

It rings.

And it rings.

And it rings—

“You mull it over?” Toji answers, his cockiness radiating through the phone. “Who am I speaking to? Sukuna?”

“I’m here.” he answers, he bounces his thigh, a silent instruction for you to announce yourself. And, for him, you do. “We’ve thought about it.”

“And?” Toji speaks.

Sukuna looks up at you, expecting you to do the honours of answering. His face is stoic and it makes your heart sink. He really wants you to agree to this. This is the first time since you’ve been with him that’s he’s made you feel like the object you agreed to be, for him. You thought it was out of love. Maybe even respect.

You were a fool to think that, you see that now.

You take a deep breath, and your whole body shakes. Even the little breaths you take to steel yourself warble and you try and gain the confidence to tell Toji that you agree.

Sukuna agrees, you don’t.

“We’re not interested.” you tell him. Sukuna glares at you, and you swear you see flames licking through his pupils. You try to stand up, but you’re trapped. He holds you, tight, and you worry about what you’ve let yourself in for. “Sukuna, get off.” you try to warn him off quietly, but it only increases his grip.

He mutes the call, and fingers sink harshly into the fat of your hips as he lifts you up. You land on the large meeting table with a thud as he towers above you with a dangerous glint in his eye.

“You dare disobey me?” he starts. You flinch as he raises his hand, the rings on his fingers twinkle under the fluorescent lights in the room. He doesn’t hit you, and you can’t tell if that’s what he was considering. He’s never struck you before. But, thinking about it, you’ve never defied him before. He balls his hand into a fist, a singular finger breaking free as he points in your face. “I don’t think you understood me before. Did you get confused?” he asks, voice dripping with condescension as his eyes alternate between your shimmering eyes and tremoring lip.

You ignore him, you just stare at him as you wait for him to finish.

“Understand me now. You are mine. Your life, your clothes, the bed you sleep in? Mine. Your body is mine. Your cunt is barely yours, I own her.”

“You said the decision was mine to—”

“I said I want you to make the decision I’m telling you to make. I’m not giving you a choice, I was giving you the power to make the decision yourself. But I see now, you’re too dumb to make the right call without daddy’s help.”

You sniff, picking up the phone to your side and unmuting the call. You’re surprised Toji is still on the other end, perhaps he knew that you’d gone against orders and was waiting to hear your reconsideration. He doesn’t say a word, nor does Sukuna, as you continue to sniffle and gather your bearings.

“T-Toji?�� you whimper, and you hear an amused breath on the other end.

“Yes, darlin’, I’m here.” he speaks. His voice is somewhat soothing given the circumstances. Your lovers fiery stare remains on you. He and your very own body are imploring you to make the decision he’s expecting of you. But your heart, your mind, tell you otherwise. If Sukuna kills you, so be it.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to sleep with you, I love Sukuna too m-much.” you whimper, tears cascade down your face as you look at him. Even after this, after how he’s spoken to you and what he’s trying to make you do, you can’t help but love him. Even his face softens as he hears your plea. Your utter devotion to him makes his heart skip a beat.

There may even be a slither of remorse behind his eyes.

“You’re a real good girl, aren’tcha? So loyal… It’s hard to find girls like you.” Toji responds, and it snaps Sukuna out of his daze. The looming anger returns as he realises you’ve ignored direct orders twice now. “Tell ya what… Sukuna, you still there?”

“… I’m here.” he responds, slouching down in the seat he’d been sitting in previously. It’s odd, looking down at him like this. He looks deflated, like he doesn’t know how to handle you. Maybe he does still love you, after all. He doesn’t want to hurt you or kill you, he’s wrestling with it. If you were like his subordinates you’d be dead already.

He doesn’t know what to do with you.

“Princess, would you feel better if Sukuna was there?” he asks. You both look at each other, unsure of what he’s getting at. The idea infuriates Sukuna. Why on earth would he want to sit like some cuck while one of his enemies rails his girlfriend? “I don’t need you to myself, I just want to fuck you.”

“Um… oh.” you speak, the penny finally dropping. “I like that better.” you confess.

“Mm, I’ll bet.” Toji smirks. “Alright, I’ll make arrangements.”

“Go find Yuuji and go home.” Sukuna whispers as Toji continues to speak. He barely looks at you as you slide off the desk. So you don’t even bother saying goodbye. You’re still so fucking angry at him for all of this. But, really, you can’t help but feel like he isn’t pulling the strings here.

Not really.

You find Yuuji outside vaping, and he chokes when he sees you. He desperately attempts to swat the plume of smoke away, but it’s too late. You take the device from his hand and drop it on the ground.

“Enough.” you tell him, crushing it beneath the chunky platform and heel of your boot while looking him dead in the eye. “Stop buying them.”

“Sorry.” he chuckles. “Want me to take you home?”

“Yes,” you sigh. “The long way… if you don’t mind.”

He nods, understandingly.

Maybe you chose the wrong Itadori to fall in love with.

You hadn’t realised how close Toji’s apartment is to yours and Sukuna’s. You never even knew he existed until a few days ago. And yet, now, you’re in the elevator on your way up to the penthouse suite.

The preparation into this night, which you’re sure will amount to a few grunts and thrusts from each of them before they’re panting and bored, has been substantial.

Sukuna agreed to let Toji cover the cost of everything, which surprised you. Sukuna is a proud man, he’s proud of himself and the money he makes. And he’s especially proud of his possessions.

Most of all, you.

You’ve been accompanied by Yuuji and Megumi for the last week everywhere you go. And they’ve bickered about everything.

As you were sitting in the hair salon earlier, Yuuji insisted upon how Sukuna would like your hair to look, whilst Megumi argued about what Toji would prefer.

They argued when they took you clothes shopping about what kind of outfit you should wear. They argued about what colour lingerie you should wear. Hell, they even argued about what perfume would be best.

You didn’t have the energy to intervene, however, not when it feels like your world is crumbling around you. You’ve lost Sukuna, you think. You aren’t sure how or when it happened, but you don’t see love in his eyes anymore. And it’s a fool’s gambit to try and force that love back.

Now, you’re just a toy he’s grown tired of.

The elevator stops with a ding as you reach the top. Your stomach is doing somersaults, and you’re a little taken aback as Sukuna takes your hand in his. The reassuring squeeze he offers calms you immensely as he leads you out directly into the apartment.

“Welcome.” Megumi greets you both. He gestures to a bottle champagne and three pre-poured flutes filled with the gorgeous, bubbly liquid. You don’t notice until you get closer that there’s even strawberries drowning in the glasses. “Make yourselves at home, he won’t be long.” Megumi speaks, gesturing to the modern staircase that leads upstairs.

And with that, he leaves. He enters the elevator and waves as the doors shut, taking him all of the way to the ground floor. You can’t help but wonder where he’s going. Maybe, despite all of the bickering, he and Yuuji are planning to go out and have fun together while their bosses are occupied.

You feel sick.

Everyone’s going to find out about this. Everyone is going to have you down as a slut who trades her body for the sake of gang disputes. The naïve nature within you is telling you that this is a one time thing. That you made the choice and you only made it because there is something so alluring about Toji.

But, really, after this… you fear that you may be better off dead.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Toji speaks as he announces himself, slowly descending the stairs as he drinks you in. His shirt is open, revealing his glorious body beneath. Each move he makes is teasing, only subtly showing off his musculature that glistens beneath. “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” he tells you.

His hand settles on your hip as he kisses your cheek. It’s gentle, yet forceful, and it lasts a beat longer than you had expected. The feeling of his lips is cemented against your face, and it takes every ounce of willpower that you have to not hold your cheek longingly.

“Glad you could make it, both of you.” Toji expresses, looking at Sukuna briefly before focusing on you again. He can’t get enough of you. He can’t stop ogling your perfect body in the skintight, chocolate coloured dress you’re wearing. The way your breasts slightly spill over the bust, the way the plunge shows the perfect amount of cleavage, the way a huge slit down the side perfectly showcases one of your legs and teases the treasure at the apex of your thighs.

He picks up two glasses, handing them to you and Sukuna, before grabbing his own.

“To peace.” he smirks. Sukuna chuckles and repeats his sentiment, though you’re silent. You aren’t exactly proud of yourself for doing this for the sake of peace.

But at the very least, you might have a little fun. You take a small sip, while Sukuna and Toji’s glasses are bare. Toji tops them up, and they chat as if they’re old friends.

“I’m sure you didn’t invite us over just to make nice, Zen’in.” Sukuna comments, and Toji laughs but nods. Sukuna sets down his champagne flute, tilting your head up by your chin with two dominant fingers. “She won’t object to anything. Isn’t that right, princess?” he asks, and you nod.

Toji finishes his drink again, circling around you both to stand behind you. Sukuna sits down, already pouring his third drink of the evening as he watches how you choose to behave. You’re not going to defy again, though. Not when you agreed of your own accord.

Your gaze narrows as your eyelids become heavy from Toji’s presence behind you. He softly gropes and manhandles every inch of your body. And even the areas you wouldn’t normally consider sensitive have you shuddering under his touch.

He attacks your exposed thigh, dragging the back of his nails upwards towards your pussy as his teeth lightly graze your pulse point. You emit a vociferous moan as his fingers splay outward, his digits barely breaching the material of your dress and yet somehow stimulating your immediately drenched cunt.

“I think she likes me.” he sighs against your skin, maintaining complete eye contact with Sukuna as he feels you up. “This dress was made for you, baby.” he tells you, kissing softly behind your ear.

“Look,” Sukuna starts, standing up as he looms above you. He pulls down the bust, revealing the black mesh bra underneath. Your nipples are barely covered, perfectly visible to all eyes in the room. He cups your breasts, and his thumbs repeatedly swipe over the raised buds. “They’re so hard, princess. Is this exciting you?” he asks.

You nod, dumbly. He captures your lips in a deep kiss and you moan into it. Toji reaches forwards over your shoulder, grabbing a handful of your tit as he squeezes the flesh and lightly flicks the nipple. His other hand settles in the curve of your hip, and you yelp slightly into Sukuna’s mouth as he pulls you backwards against his body.

“Feel how hard you’re makin’ me already, darlin’?” he asks, sharp canines nipping lightly against your bare neck as he pants shallowly against your skin. “Haven’t even touched your pussy yet and I’m aching. Haven’t even seen your fuckin’ panties.”

“Strip her, go on.” Sukuna orders. He backs away as he allows Toji to move you wherever he desires.

You gasp as you feel him move you with ease until your bent over the countertop, your face turns to the side to face Sukuna and the bucket of champagne. You’re distracted by the water droplets slowly traversing down until you hear Toji gnarl against the nape of your neck.

You can’t help but whimper when you feel him repeatedly kiss your bare skin until he reaches the zip of your dress. Sukuna stares into your eyes. Watery, eager eyes that are still focused on him without him even touching you. The red irises that own you and your every move, Toji was right, you are a good loyal girl.

Toji takes the zip between his teeth and pulls downward until the dress shucks from your body, it starts to pool at your feet, but still clings to your waist. Sukuna helps yank it downwards, while Toji lands a harsh strike against your supple rear. He whistles at the sight of your flesh jiggling, repeating the action on the opposite cheek just to see it again.

“Do you know how to use that mouth, princess?” Toji asks, and you nod.

“She knows how to talk shit with it.” Sukuna informs him, and Toji smirks. “But she gives good head, too. Get on your knees.” Sukuna tells you.

And you drop like a stone in front of Toji, you’re sure your knees will be red raw from the uncomfortable landing. You watch Toji with complete focus as he unbuckles his belt. Your eyes stay on his, getting the perfect view of his defined abs and large pecs as you stare up at him. The metal of his belt echoes through the room as he throws it in Sukuna’s direction.

You’re awestruck when Toji’s length is revealed. He’s beautiful. You don’t even realise you’re drooling until the bubbly liquid drips down and splats against your hand. He’s huge. Sukuna is too, but Toji might have him slightly bested. His cock curves upwards, and you can’t help squirm as you think about it hitting all of the right spots inside of you.

His pubic hair is trimmed perfectly. You wonder if he usually keeps himself groomed or if he only did it for this occasion. His tip is gorgeous. A slightly more blush pink in comparison to the rest of his cock. And it’s oozing. It’s shimmering with pre, the tip is completely covered and some of his length below is coated too.

“I���m gonna kill you if you keep staring at his cock like that, princess.” Sukuna warns you. You look at him, worry stabbing through your eyes before Toji grabs your jaw and forces you to focus on him again. He bends down, his face dangerously close to yours.

“He might kill you later, but I’m gonna kill you now if you don’t hurry and put that pretty mouth to work.” he snarls. You nod, widening your mouth to accommodate his girth. He groans, passionately, as his tip hits against your restrictive throat. “Fuuuuuck, good girl.”

You hold his hips as you attempt to take him deeper and deeper into your mouth. Your jaw already hurts, you feel like you might need the ability to unhinge it like a snake just to take him. It’s a similar experience with Sukuna, though he doesn’t make you suck him off often. He prefers your cunt, he doesn’t like to waste time on foreplay normally.

Only if he’s particularly stressed.

“You’re right, she’s a good little cocksucker.” he tells Sukuna as he praises you. He lightly combs his fingers through your hair with one hand before he forcefully shoves you to take his full length. And you cry out, you sob, and he slightly pulls out before shoving back in. “Are you gonna sit and watch me face fuck your toy?” Toji asks, earning a scoff from Sukuna.

He bends down, picking up the belt Toji discarded as he approaches. “Watch.” he orders. You gasp as Toji sets you free so that you’re true lover can take over. He wraps Toji’s belt around your neck but doesn’t completely fasten it, giving them both the freedom to tug and choke you into submission if needs be.

Sukuna removes his own belt, handing it to Toji to do with whatever he pleases. You whimper as he pulls your wrists behind your back, tying them together with the uncomfortable leather binding.

He pulls out his cock, slapping you lightly across the face with it as you wait patiently with your tongue hanging out. You mewl at he taps his tip against your tastebuds, the taste of his pre instantly permeates your senses.

Two hands settle on either side of your skull as he sinks his cock into your drooling mouth. He throws his head back, groaning as he slots in comfortably. He wastes no time, thrusting into your mouth again and again until you’re sputtering and sobbing.

“She cries easily, huh?” Toji drawls as he strokes himself.

Sukuna nods, forcing you down all of the way to the base until you’re choking. You can’t even steady yourself anymore with your wrists being bound. You can’t breathe and you can’t push away. He pinches your nose when you remember you can breathe through it, suffocating you completely.

“Aw, what’s wrong darlin’? Not gonna break so soon, are ya?” Toji asks, grabbing the makeshift collar and leash around your neck as he softly pulls. But he lets go as Sukuna frees you from his malicious clutches.

They both laugh as you cough and sputter, collapsing into a heap on the ground as you try and get your breath back.

“What’s wrong? You don’t like it?” Sukuna asks. He picks you up with ease, and you’re soon bent over the counter again. But, this time, your feet don’t touch the ground. You’re left there, powerless to their touch with your ass perfectly raised while your feet and legs dangle helplessly over the edge.

Toji spreads your ass apart, and the stickiness sounding through the room is deafening. He sneers when it hits his ears. “She’s lying.” he spanks you, hard. And then his fingers toy between your pussy lips, making a complete and utter mess of your panties. “Do you like old men picking on you, hm? You must do. Can you feel how sloppy this cunt is, princess?” he asks.

You whimper out apologies, though they don’t seem to be interested. Toji picks you back up, throwing you over his shoulder as he carries you towards the stairs. Sukuna follows, a wicked grin on his face as he observes your tear-stricken face.

“Does she like anal?” Toji wonders.

“She likes whatever I tell her to like.” Sukuna laughs. “Would you like that, baby? Should we use both of your pretty holes?”

“Can’t wait to tear these fuckin’ panties off ya.” Toji explains. “Dunno why you bothered coming here with clothes on. Should have come bare, with a bow on your head.”

You enter Toji’s bedroom. And it’s gorgeous. It’s so sleek and stunning and there’s even a fireplace crackling away. The atmosphere is romantic, but this situation is hardly that.

Sukuna strokes your cheek, a subtle check to make sure you’re okay as he looks into your eyes. You nod, discreetly, before he slips his thumb between your teeth. You bite down, softly, and he can’t help but smile.

“Think this is the quietest she’s ever been,” Sukuna starts. He massages his thumb into your tongue, and you can’t help but instinctively suck. “Bein’ so good for daddy tonight.” he praises you.

“Daddy, huh?” Toji smirks, taking two fistfuls of your panties between his hands and tears them apart carelessly. “Hope you’ll call me that, sweetheart.”

You look to Sukuna for permission, and he nods. “Just this once.”

“Real pretty girl when you’re suckin’ on somethin’.” Toji comments. He sits on the bed beside you, lifting you up abruptly to sit on his lap. He unhooks your bra and Sukuna seamlessly breaks the straps between heavy fists, ripping it quickly from your body without undoing your bindings. “Suck ‘em while I play with this sweet little cunt.” Toji groans against you as he pulls your back flush against his chest.

Sukuna lightly slaps your tits before walking away. You watch him as he takes a seat in the corner of the room, and he’s become exactly what he hadn’t wanted to. He looks unfazed, though. He seems to be enjoying it if anything. He pulls a cigar from his inner breast pocket along with a lighter, he rests his ankle on his knee as he watches Toji toy with you.

“Watch him, want him to see how good I make you feel.” Toji whispers. He presses two fingers into your mouth slowly. The metal of his rings clang against your teeth, but you don’t care. You wish you could hold his hands as you suckle and lap at his digits. Though you’re broken from your efforts as he starts to circle your clit. “Mmm, such a messy pussy.” he comments.

You wriggle and squirm even with such little pressure applied to your clit. He runs his fingers through your folds, teasing your hole only slightly before he massages your swollen clit again and again.

“—addy!” you whine, unable to sit still as he torments you.

“Hear that? She called me daddy.” Toji chortles, looking at Sukuna. He smirks, but again seems more unfazed than anything. You almost screech around his fingers as he finally inserts his other digits inside of you. As if they weren’t already thick, more metallic rings seem determined to push your pussy to the limit. “You’re gonna make a mess f’me. Alright? Don’t fight me.”

He inserts a third finger between your lips, your mouth contorts and stretches uncomfortably, and still, you suck.

He digs around inside of you like he’s searching for something in particular. And when your legs begin to jolt and quiver, he deduces he’s found it quick enough. His ministrations are almost evil as he alternates between hard and slow fingering. It’s so intense, so excruciating that you can barely concentrate on his fingers in your mouth.

“Can’t see your face, baby. You still with us?” he asks, and you can only offer a barely intelligible response. Sukuna leans forward in his chair as he smokes, uncaring for where he flicks the ash. It’s the last thing on Toji’s mind, too. Especially when you’re already losing consciousness like this. “They’re just fingers, darlin’. Gonna go stupid for my cock if you can’t even handle this.” he laughs.

“Slap her cunt.” Sukuna tells him. And soon enough Toji is landing a hard enough spank to your puffy clit. You mewl, so he repeats it. Again and again. Harder and harder. “Finger her, I’ll do it.”

Toji puts his fingers back inside of your tight walls and finds that spot again. Sukuna lords above you, cigar resting between the gentle bite of his teeth as he spanks your cunt hard. It makes you dizzy, almost delirious. The conflicting feelings of pain and pleasure make your eyes water.

“Crying again.” he says as he spanks your pussy again. “Who knew two cocks would make you so obedient and submissive?”

“And we haven’t even fucked her yet.” Toji reminds him, and he smirks. “I should have invaded your turf a long time ago if I knew it would get us here.”

“Hm,” Sukuna hums. Your breath hitches, and he raises an eyebrow in suspicion. “She’s going to cum. Is she getting tight?”

“Like she’s gonna break my fingers.” Toji smirks. And with a few more spanks against your clit as Toji continuously batters his fingers into your g-spot, you’re cumming harder than you ever have in your life. Sukuna doesn’t move away as he feels you douse him with the thick stream shooting from your cunt. “Oh fuck. You’re a little squirter, huh. Or a big squirter, look at the fuckin’ mess you made of us, dirty girl. Told ya you would.” he teases you, not letting up on your insides as he tries to draw every last drop of your arousal from you.

It's not like it’s the first time you’ve squirted.

But you’ve never squirted that much before.

Your mouth is free as Toji pulls out his fingers, and you feel a chill as he wipes your saliva against the column of your spine. You’re surprised when you feel him undo the belt keeping your wrists together. And you’re even more surprised as he helps you straddle him properly.

He squeezes your ass as you begin to rut your hips against his cock, the tip catches against your hole as he holds cups your cheek and offers you a showstopping, tongue tangling kiss. You yelp as Sukuna yanks your hair until your vision is his face at an almost upside down angle. He spits in your mouth, crudely, before releasing your hair.

You don’t bother swallowing it as Toji brings you back to him and locks his lips with yours. He couldn’t care less that Sukuna had spat in your mouth. You’d already sucked his cock, what did it matter to him?

“You’re so well trained, princess.” he smirks. He stands up, and you instantly wrap your legs around his waist. He places you flat against the bed, nibbling on your collarbone before he nips and kisses downward. Further and further and further. “Let daddy taste you.” he demands, and you nod.

Sukuna holds your underarms and pulls you until your head droops backward, lolling over the edge of the mattress.

You wince as he slots his cock between your lips again, and he loosens the tightness of the belt still around your neck. The slight choking feeling is replaced with his hand, intent on feeling your throat bulge from the broadness of his cock.

Your legs cramp around Toji’s head as he gets to work feasting on your folds. If not for Sukuna’s length stuffing your throat, you’d be screaming at the way he suctions his lips around your clit. He licks and sucks again and again until your mind goes blank.

“That’s a good toy,” Sukuna chuckles darkly. “Stop thinking, now, we’ll do that for you.”

Toji can’t get enough of your taste. He can’t help but stroke himself as he pleasures you, and he grunts again and again against your heat. The fingers on his free hand sink into your doughy thighs. He’s doing all he can do to make sure you stay put. And he wants his face to be suffocated by your cunt.

Sukuna pulls out, determined not to cum this way. He’ll only cum if he’s doing so directly into your womb. He drops to his knees, helping you up a little so you can look down at the man about to give you your second orgasm of the evening. Your head sags against Sukuna’s broad shoulder, but you manage to look through barely open eyelids to see raven locks shaking and swaying as he lashes his tongue against your clit.

“’m gonna c-cum, daddy… fuck.” you mutter, unsure if you’re referring to Sukuna or Toji. Neither of them seem to care, though, they’re more focused on your wobbly thighs and spasming cunt. “Ngghh—!” you wail.

Toji slurps up your mess as you squirt all over his face. He laughs, scar pulling deliciously as he tries to catch your essence in his wide, smiling mouth. He sticks his tongue out before attaching his lips directly against the source again.

And even he’s panting when you’re finished. Completely satisfied from this alone.

Though his eyes and mind are full of desire as he fantasises about how close he is to feeling you wrapped around him.

“I want her pussy.” Toji insists, and Sukuna shrugs his shoulders.

Sukuna scoops you into his arms, and the two of them help position your near lifeless body between them. Though your pseudo-husband is the first to shove his cock into your drooling slot. Toji scowls, prepared to pull you away from him if needs be.

“I said—”

“And?” Sukuna responds. “Fuck her pussy, then.”

Toji is frozen, unsure of what he means. But they keep eye contact as Sukuna fully sheathes himself to the hilt. Toji’s gaze only falters when he hears you moan from the stretch. You look up at him, your sweet doe eyes absolutely sodden with tears. And still, you bite your lip as you lose yourself to the bliss of being an object.

“Oh, princess,” Toji smirks, kissing the tip of your nose before he lines his cock up with your hole. “Gonna have to break this little pussy, ‘cause your daddy’s so selfish.” he tells you.

He hisses as he breaches inside of you, and your head falls forward to rest on his chest. They both hush you and coo sweetly as their cocks tear you apart. You aren’t sure which of them he was calling selfish, but really, it’s both.

They could have taken turns if they both wanted you this way.

But they were hellbent on double stuffing you.

Their hips move in tandem, neither of them giving you a single moment to catch your breath as they bully their cocks into you again and again. You’re screaming out moans as they pummel your insides. You’re bound to be aching and bruised tomorrow. You don’t care, though, not right now. And they certainly don’t. Not when your tight little hole feels so Goddamn perfect.

“Fuck— fuck,” Toji grunts. “Don’t wanna pull out.”

“D—on’t.” you squeak out, and they both let out a little laugh each at your weak request.

“She’s a little cum slut, can’t get enough. Fill her up, fuck if I care. Want this little pussy bred, baby? Hm? Want your daddy’s to fuck you full’a kids?” Sukuna teases. And you nod, it’s weak, pathetic, but determined. “Goooood girl, ‘m close.”

“I’m close as well, I’m gonna fuckin’ lose it.” Toji announces, his thrusts becoming sloppier and more staggered.

The change in pace has you clenching, the third and final nail in your coffin as your pussy begins to gush for them both. They’re both a little embarrassed, flushing red in the face as your tightening hole leads to both of their mutual demise.

“That’s it, take it, little slut.” Sukuna commands as he empties his balls inside of you. Toji is no better, the obscene names seem like second nature to them both.

“Fuck, look at her stomach.” Toji snickers. Sukuna looks down to see your tummy swollen with their cocks and cum.

They both pull out, wholly beguiled as your body collapses onto the bed in a heap. You’re practically asleep as they position you onto your stomach and split your legs apart to see how their sperm leaks out of your twitching cunt.

“I want another go.” Toji smirks, unable to pull his eyes away from your glittering slit.

“Let her rest a little.” Sukuna tells him. “I’m not done with her, either.”

You’re tired.

You’re so tired of coming to these fucking meetings.

Sukuna walks through the building with you close by. His arm around you, protectively. Somehow, you think the encounter with his rival has made him love you more. He’s been clingier, lately, which isn’t like him. He never wants to let you out of his sight, or his grasp.

He’s been using you more too.

It’s like how things were in the beginning again.

You’re sure everyone knows what happened. Eyes are on you, and their full of judgement. It hurts, of course, but there’s nothing to be done. Sukuna was right: you agreed. You did it for him and yet out of the two men who were supposed to deal with this amongst themselves, you’re the only one paying the price.

Nobody cares if their boss had a threesome.

Everyone cares if his girlfriend got used like a slut though.

Mostly, you can’t bring yourself to care. As you sit down beside Sukuna, his hand rests on your thigh while you scan everyone’s shame-filled faces. You’d challenge any of them to care what others think of them after the night you had.

It was mind blowing.

To be dominated thoroughly by the two biggest men you’ve ever met like that is a feeling you can’t begin to describe. To feel so small and worthless in comparison to them. For your body to be used in whatever manner they see fit and for them to still allow you to cum despite your purpose being for their enjoyment…

You haven’t stopped thinking about it.

About them.

About him.

Sukuna’s hand leaves your thigh as he addresses the room. Explaining how Toji miraculously decided to back off after a firm warning. No one believes it, but everyone is happy enough. But there’s always going to be issues and problems when you’re involved in illegal activity. So despite your nose being buried in your phone, you can’t say you’re surprised when you hear Sukuna move onto the next issue.

Uraume sees you smirking as your fingers tap away at your keyboard. And it makes her smirk, too.

Toji insisted that you put your number in his phone when you spent the night. Sukuna was using the bathroom, and he forced his phone into your shaky fingers. You were panicking, but you typed fast.

You’ve been texting non-stop ever since.

Uraume thinks you’re a naïve fool.

She knows exactly what you’re doing because this is what she had envisioned from the very start. She orchestrated everything. She invited Toji’s foot soldiers to start operating their business on Sukuna’s turf; just like she is the one who informed Sukuna of the invasion with such haste and loyalty.

She is the one who hinted at where they might find you that day you were shopping with Yuuji. And she is the one who let slip to Toji what your arrangement with Sukuna is.

Sukuna respects Uraume, but he doesn’t give her nearly enough credit.

She has managed perfectly to drive a wedge between you that neither of you even know is there yet. His lack of respect for your body has driven you into the willing arms of another man. Only through texting, for now, but before long that won’t be enough for you. Sukuna’s jealousy and possessiveness have made him love you more, the scales have tipped the other way and it is all to benefit Uraume.

Sukuna will find out, she’ll make sure of that.

And whether he kills you or casts you aside, it matters not to her. Because his heart will be broken either way; and she will be there to pick up the pieces. Sukuna hates how jealous you are of Uraume. But neither of you have a single solitary clue that she’s thinking all of this through right now.

Uraume feels a little bad for you, your intuition is keen. But Sukuna will never suspect a thing. You’re just insecure, he thinks. But Uraume applauds you for having your guard up about her.

You were right to worry.

© 2023 rinhaler

[whimsyvixen]

𝔼𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕪 𝔹𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕤

Silent Hill Fic Rating: 18+ Pairing: Pyramid Head x Female Reader Synopsis/Excerpt: His helmet had jerked your way, the sudden movement making your heart drop to your stomach. You couldn't look away from him, mouth agape at the towering menace. You didn't understand how, but you felt him peruse your form--nausea hitting you when he let out a guttural growl and headed straight for you. WARNINGS/TAGS: Dark fic, rape/noncon elements, extremely dubious consent, explicit content, blood play, heavy NSFW, teratophilia(?), monster/human, choking, dacryphilia, rough sex, unprotected sex, forced orgasm, tummy bulge, creampie, very obvious size difference. ⚠️ READ THE TAGS: Please be aware this work contains content that the reader may feel uncomfortable with or otherwise triggered by. DO NOT READ if bothered by tags (no minors). ⚠️

A/N: I had to make sure to finish this one before Halloween! Sorry for the long wait, you guys! I got no tricks with me so I'm just going to hand over this little treat right here ! 🍬

You hid beneath a large table, hands over your mouth to control your breathing as the floor shook. You could feel your heart beating intensely, the organ wanting to burst out of your chest as pure terror seized you when the footsteps paused near your hiding spot.

He was right in front of you. The only being you encountered in the desolate town of Silent Hill.

The monster. 

~

He had emerged out of an alley, swarmed by bugs as he trudged his way through, his massive frame freezing you in place. His head was encumbered by a steel frame, pyramid in its shape and heavy in appearance if his tortured groans were anything to go by. His scarred torso and bulging arms were bare, showcasing the immense power he held as he dragged a massive knife behind him.

You couldn't contain your gasp when you caught sight of it.

His helmet had jerked your way, the sudden movement making your heart drop to your stomach. You couldn't look away from him, mouth agape at the towering menace. You didn't understand how, but you felt him peruse your form--nausea hitting you when he let out a guttural growl and headed straight for you.

Fuck!

You bolted then, nearly tripping over your own feet in your desperation to get away from him. With the amount of blood soaking him and those unnerving growls, you weren't willing to take a chance and find out what he would do to you. Too afraid to look back, you continued running in the abandoned town, losing sight of where you were as you tried to find somewhere to hide. 

What buildings you could make out were old and rundown, their windows smashed and doors creaking ominously. They would not provide you with the cover you needed. You could faintly hear him behind you, breaking into a cold sweat when you turned your head and couldn't spot him in the dense fog. 

When you caught sight of the abandoned school, your lungs felt like bursting and your legs ached from overexerting yourself to run. Your body needed to rest before you collapsed from the fatigue. It was a large enough building that finding you would be a tasking ordeal for the monster. Perhaps he would give up his search for you and allow you to find a way out of this hellish place. You could only hope that you lost him earlier and he wouldn’t know where you crawled off to. 

Running up the steps to the entrance, you were met with the despairing sight of chains wrapped around the steel doors. 

“No, no, no…” you pleaded, grabbing onto the chains in hopes they were loose enough to open the doors. Luck was on your side, because they were– chains pulling taut around the doors, opening just enough to allow someone to squeeze through with some difficulty. Struggling to wiggle your way through, you pushed with all your might and breathed a sigh of relief when you fell inside. 

Taking deep breaths, you looked around and tried to make sense of your surroundings. Needing to squint your eyes to adjust seeing in the dark, you could see a narrow hallway with dirty and rusty lockers lined along the walls. It was an uncanny sight, the broken down doors of the classrooms and splintering wood of the floor making you realize how decrepit this place was. It was so unkempt and old that you flinched when the floorboards creaked with every step you took. You felt like dying every time the floor protested your weight and critters ran spooked by the noise.

The hall turned a sharp corner to the left, more lockers and doors appearing on either side of the walls as before. It was then you noticed the broken elevator, the metal frame twisted in sharp angles and torn cables dangling from tears in the ceiling. If there was an elevator here, then that must mean there was a way up! 

Not caring this time about the noise you made, you hurried to the end of the hall trying to see if you could find some way to get to the second floor. If you could just get there, you would have the advantage of viewing who (or what) was below you on the ground. Maybe even spot a route or path out of this place. Passing by the restrooms, you nearly gagged when a putrid stench hit your nose. The buzzing of flies and roaches in the area made you squeamish, your face scrunching into a disgusted grimace at the dirty facilities before continuing your trek forward.

Finding the stairs was a much harder task than you expected. Faced with multiple locked areas of the building, you were forced to backtrack and navigate through other sections of the building to find another way up. It seemed like a dead end everywhere you turned. 

Just when you were about to give up, you finally spotted stairs leading to the upper floor. 

“Finally,” you muttered in exasperation. Your turtle neck shirt was damp with your sweat, clinging to your body so uncomfortably that you would definitely need a shower soon. Placing a hand on the cracked wall nearest you, you took a breather, closing your eyes as you tried to get your energy back up again. 

“Just a little bit more. Don’t give up yet.” 

Forcing your aching feet to move, you headed tiredly towards the stairs. Once you reached them, you walked up to the landing, turning left to continue climbing forward when you noticed something. 

“You have got to be kidding me?!”

A disbelieving look crossed your face. In front of you was a dilemma that nearly made you scream in frustration. The only way to the upper floor was barricaded with chairs and tables, furniture piled up haphazardly along the second set of stairs as if to ensure no one could get by it. It effectively put a stop to your plans. 

Maybe you could climb over the obstruction? No, you couldn’t risk something falling out of place and crushing you with its weight, causing you harm in the end. You thought about using the railing to skip past the hurdle of furniture, but hearing the creak of the brittle handrail when you held it had you rethinking that idea. Placing your hands on your hips, you tried thinking of how to get past this obstacle. Maybe taking it apart little by little would help?

Seeing as you had no choice, you started dismantling the barricade one chair at a time. The tables were too heavy and had your arms shaking from the effort of pulling them so you left them for last. Once you piled up enough chairs to give you room to move one of the tables, you shook your hands to prepare them to take the brunt of the weight. 

While you were busy with this task, you didn’t know you damned yourself.

What you didn’t know was when you squeezed through the gap of the entrance, your sweater caught on an edge and tore a strip of the pink cloth. You didn’t know it was like a beacon, its vibrant color contrasting from the dull and bleak setting of the school. You didn’t know he held it in his bloodied hand, bringing it to his hidden face as if to smell you. You didn’t see the shudder that went through him. You also didn't see him bursting through the shackled entrance of the school, breaking the chain to pieces as the steel doors lay bent beneath his foot.

However, you did feel the building shake following a loud crash. 

Startled at the muffled explosion, you released the legs of the table you were holding, crouching as you looked around wildly. The echoed sounds of doors being forced open could then be heard even from a distance. Lockers were slammed and torn off the walls, the clash of metal producing an awful screeching sound that resonated across the empty building.

What?! What was that?! You panicked internally, palms sweating as you hid behind the railing. What could’ve made that thunderous sound? Was it him?! It couldn’t be, could it? Trembling with fear, you realized you were a sitting duck. You couldn't go back the way you came or you’ll risk facing what caused that loud commotion.

When you heard a familiar growl, you couldn’t stop the tiny sob escaping your lips. It was HIM! When his steps edged closer to your location, your eyes wandered desperately around your cornered space and spotted a clothed table at the bottom of the stairs. Running down the stairs, you all but crawled beneath the table, tucking your feet in as you tried to make yourself as small as possible. You didn’t have any other option. The cloth provided you with enough cover to pull off not being seen and you could only pray you weren't found.

Eyes wide with fear, you held your breath when he turned the corner, the floor trembling with every heavy step of his boots. You could also hear the scrape of the giant sword he dragged with him, the shrill sound hurting your ears. You nearly bolted when you heard the locker doors being opened one by one before getting slammed shut.

Oh God, please, don't let him find me. Please, please, please. You shut your eyes tightly, clasping your hands against your mouth as you tried to keep as quiet as you could. The corner of your eyes teared up, a lump in your throat wanting to give way to sobs of distress the closer he got.

~

His trudging steps slowed as he surveyed the area. 

Pyramid Head tilted his head curiously, his helmet creaking with the action. He didn’t know where you hid but he could sense you near. When he pressed that piece of fabric to his helmed head, your intoxicating aroma set his nerves of fire, twisting his mind into a lustful haze–the urge to pillage and kill you getting stronger by the minute. 

When he heard that soft gasp earlier in the alley, he was stunned by your feminine form mere meters away from him. You were a small thing compared to him, the top of your head not even reaching his chest. Whatever surprise he felt was momentary, desire quickly flooding his veins as he drank in your lovely shape. How long since a pretty thing like you entered this infernal domain? How easy would it be to subdue you and make you a slave to his lust? What sounds could he coax from those wet lips of yours? His member twitched to life beneath his withered skirt, the thought of possessing you clouding his mind with lascivious images of your naked body beneath him.

When he took a step towards you, you ran like a frightened lamb.

Watching you turn around to flee– the distance growing between you with every passing second– Pyramid Head gripped his weapon tightly, anger consuming him as he followed right after you. 

As if he would allow you to escape him. 

He would take you. Tarnish that soft flesh and desecrate your soul until you were nothing but a bloody heap beneath him. 

He just needed to catch you first. 

Opening the lockers one by one, he couldn’t suppress his frustrated grumbles when you weren’t there. Where were you? He shifted his attention to the familiar clutter of furniture on the staircase, noting how neatly some chairs were piled in a corner–knowing that the times he’s ventured here, the chairs were never tampered in such a way. 

Realizing how close he must be to capturing you, he started up the stairs, dropping his weapon without a care as he tore down the barricade in a frenzy to find you. 

When his search proved fruitless, the veins in his arms and neck became more prominent from his fury. WHERE WERE YOU? Blind with rage, he smashed his fists against the broken furniture and the rotting walls, tearing everything in his wake as he roared loud enough to make his helmet vibrate violently from the sound. It hurt enough to cause him to rupture something and bleed, trails of blood dripping down his neck to mix with the blood of his other victims.

As he stood breathing heavily on the landing of the stairs, trying to shake off the cloud of anger consuming him, a faint creak was heard downstairs. He twisted his body to look behind him, crazily observing the area where he heard it from. 

There was a lone table. The once white cloth adorning it was an ugly shade of brown, time not being kind to as it had torn holes ruining it. He could care less about the useless piece of cloth. What had his undivided attention was the dainty fingers that could be seen poking out beneath it. 

There was a moment of silence before he charged down the stairs. 

Gripping the sides of the table, he flung it across the hall, old wood shattering to pieces when it smacked against the railing of the stairs. He paid little mind to the destruction he created, his focus landing entirely on your meek figure below him. A look of horror crossed your face, mouth open in shock as you stared up at him. A rumble of contentment echoed within his helmet having finally found his prize, quickly dropping down to his knees to grab you and pin you between his legs.

It didn’t take much to overpower you, Pyramid Head sitting on your thighs to lessen your squirming. Bunching the pink fabric in his hands, he tore your sweater apart like paper, your startled scream doing little to deter him. His bloodied hands groped the exposed flesh hungrily, smudging your torso with the red substance as you shrieked in disgust. The way the softness of your tummy gave under his firm hands had him addicted. He loved how weak and pliant your flesh was.

Your mounds were a sight too, spilling off the cups of the small band around your chest. He tore that off easily too, your bust jiggling from the action and making him groan at the sight. Much to his pleasure, he saw your skin pebble with goosebumps, the cool air of the room turning your nipples into tight buds.

His hands moved, thick fingers stroking over your breasts to test the doughy texture. You gasped, arching from the pressure, unknowingly pushing your chest against his palms. Much to your chagrin, the rough pads of his fingers sent a fire bolt careening from your nipples and through your quivering belly to ignite heat into your core. You bit your lip, ignoring the sensation as you tried shoving his hands away with your feeble strength. When he tugged harshly on the tips of your breasts, you let out a pained whine, the kittenish sound sending a shock of pleasure down his spine. He wished to tear you apart, bathe in your essence as he drank up your tortured cries.

He was reluctant to pull his hands away from you, your body smeared in a beautiful canvas of blood, but his need to fully claim you could not be denied.  Pyramid Head removed his hands from your breasts with a final rough squeeze, shifting one to rub his erection to alleviate some of his need, while the other hand trailed down to caress your clothed hip possessively.

He was bewitched by you, reverently stroking your skin with bloodied hands to dirty your purity. Shielding your breasts from his view, you were a vision with your head turned to the side, choking on a sob as you realized that despite how your mind protested his brutish touches, your body betrayed you when slickness dripped between your thighs.

At war with yourself, you didn't pay attention when his attention turned to the last article of clothing preserving your modesty.

Easing up on his weight, he shifted his body down to tug at your black jeans. When the tight fabric stuck around your hips, he grew irritated at the minor inconvenience. Before you could voice out a protest, he roughly flipped you over onto your stomach, shock coursing through you when he tore the denim to shreds at your sides, dragging the rest of it down your legs and taking your panties and shoes with them.

You could feel the heat in your face at the state of your nudity. He caressed your ass then– forcing an undignified yelp from you at the offensive touch– squeezing the globes on either palm, his nails digging into the fat hard enough to leave lasting bruises on your unblemished skin. 

"N-no! You're hurting me!" 

You hissed between your teeth, sharp aches blossoming from where his fingers pressed on your ass. You shivered with disgust when the blood on his hands dirtied your globes, matching it with the mess of your front.

Brushing a calloused finger along your vulva, he was met with the heat of your pussy. It had your body jerking to attention, the blood draining from your face in an instant. When he tried to insert the bloody finger inside you, you shook erratically, your hands scrambling for purchase on the floor to get away from him. 

Tired of your antics, he twisted you to your back, uncaring of the yelp that left you when the back of your head hit the floor with a loud thud. Holding you down with one hand around your neck, he nearly choked you as he began pulling impatiently at the fastenings of his long skirt to jerk himself free with his other. His body shook with excitement, enticed by your naked flesh even as you begged sweetly under him. 

He paid little mind to your frantic scratching on his arm, the pain miniscule when compared to the hard throbbing of his cock— the twitching member pulsating so strongly that it had his mind blazing from the painful pressure, a groan of distress escaping him the longer it was kept confined. Pain that would only be soothed once he was encompassed by the tight walls of your pussy. 

~

The state of your mind went into a panic when you saw it. What lay between those muscled thighs was a monstrosity. It would bring you nothing but pure anguish and misery, the way it could barely spring upward with its heavy weight. Accompanied by an equally heavy set of balls and prominent veins lining the length of it– it was more of an instrument of pain than that of pleasure, meant to punish and brutalize those that fell victim to it. 

A whimper left you before you started thrashing in earnest, clawing away at his arm to get away from that. 

"LET GO OF ME! NO! Y-YOU CAN'T-!" 

You didn't care that he could snap your neck in a second, didn't care that he could rip you limb from limb or crush your head with his bare hands. Those were much better options than the alternative he was hellbent on pursuing. 

What the hell?! How can he be that bi-!!? Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt monstrous hands grip your knees and pull them apart savagely, screaming at the painful ache in your pelvis following the rough motion. He knelt between your spread legs, his large thighs forcing you open and leaving you unable to close your legs.

"W-wait! Wait! Think about what you're doing, please?! It's not possi-?!" 

The blunt head of his cock tapped your entrance, the pearl of precum mixing with your wetness as he tried to nudge his way in. His size proved too much for your smaller frame, his dick sliding up your vulva in a failed attempt to penetrate you. The insistent push of his hips had you holding your breath, body freezing in place when the head of his cock threatened to breach your cunt only to slide along your labia once more. 

The rough motion had you panting, the repeated nudging on your clit causing your pelvis to twitch from the erotic stimulation. You couldn’t stop your body’s reaction to him, a pulsating heat shimmering beneath your skin. Taking a glance down, you shuddered at the sight of his cock sandwiched between your spread lips. It had your feminine channel burning for him despite your fear of him. Shame accompanied your arousal as you felt more of your natural fluids coating the underside of his dick and flowing down your ass in rivulets.

While you lay gasping at the dizzying sensation, you were ignorant to his growing agitation when he missed his mark again. He raised your hips higher, giving himself a better view of your leaking hole before grabbing his wet shaft with one hand and lining himself up once more. This time he was determined to properly defile you.

Your eyes fluttered open when he adjusted you, looking up at him in confusion as you tried to clear your mind. The momentary pleasure he had given you was obliterated in a second when you felt the press of his cock head stab its first inch inside your dripping pussy. 

Like a bucket of cold water hitting your face, you shrieked when the reality of your situation set in. Flinching from his touch, you tried twisting your hips away from him hoping to dislodge the stiff cock from its journey inside you. 

"No! You won't fit!"

Bucking your hips uselessly, you failed to realize that your swirling hips moved pleasantly around the tip, a dribble of cum shooting out of his cock to coat your insides– making you gasp when you felt it and him shudder strongly at the feel of your sweet cunt. Seeing how you were so lubricated for him, he repositioned himself above you, bracing a foot on the floor while keeping the other leg bent at the knee. Grabbing the back of your knees, he pushed them forward near your head, effectively placing you in a mating press of sorts.

Not giving you any time to protest, he thrusted half of himself in one diligent push.

You yelped at the sudden pain, eyes nearly popping out of your face as you felt your pussy stretch beyond its limit. Glimmer of tears rushed to your eyes, the pain making your mouth wobble as he pulled away– the drag of his cock against your inner walls nearly causing you to faint– only to cry out when he thrusted back in with more force. More of his cock violated your sore insides, rendering you a screaming mess as he continued to plunder your wrecked form. Too scared to look at the damage between your legs, you pushed against his firm stomach, pleading for him to stop or he'll kill you. 

A sharp jab into your swollen flesh had you crying out, arching your back as tears trailed down your face. No manner of preparation could’ve made his passage bearable, the stark difference between his gargantuan size and your regular size evident as you struggled to accommodate him.

He took you like a brute. Not caring about your distressed wails.

It hurt.

Maybe the pain was making you delirious, but beneath the agony, there was a thread of pleasure seeping through the cracks. You refused to believe it, the thought of your body betraying you in such a way nearly crumbling you.

…

…

 Then why were your hips moving timidly alongside his?

~

His hands bit into your sides, Pyramid Head lifting your lower body off the floor to smack against him, driving the rest of his cock inside your spasming pussy with a low groan.

It was a tight fit. 

Once the entirety of his throbbing cock was seathed inside your warm heat, he took the time to glance down at you. You were a sweaty mess of blood and tears, pained gasps emerging from your trembling lips as your body twitched uncontrollably from his claiming of you. Your entrance was stretched taut around his engorged cock, the blood smeared on your pelvis making him wonder if it was yours or from him. 

He was immune to your choked sobs, not feeling the least bit remorseful of his violent taking of you. Rather, he was pleased you survived. Many didn’t make it past this stage, but you proved to be a pleasant surprise. 

The snug walls of your cunt suddenly clenched around his dick, nearly making him cum on the spot. 

He pulled his hips back, hissing when your walls clamped down on him, making the task difficult before driving forward with purpose. Before long, your soaked entrance made his movements easier, his dick sliding much faster inside your straining pussy. Pained cries turned into soft mewls, your hips eventually moving in tandem with his with every brush of your clit. 

He paused midthrust to stare at the bulge in your tummy in fascination. It was a ghastly sight– the way your lower belly distended from his cock penetrating you. He pressed on the bump in an inquisitive manner, jolting in shock when your channel clenched around him erratically, a stream of fluid splashing on his lower belly following your loud shriek. 

The shock was momentary, Pyramid Head rubbing your secretion between his fingers to play with the strings. Bringing them beneath the helm of his helmet, he was overtaken with the smell of your lust. Even though you couldn’t meet his gaze, you could feel him staring at you in a hungry manner. He gave you little time to be embarrassed, hunching over you to place your legs above his elbows, spreading you further and spearing into you with brutal thrusts.

He couldn't stop the rapid succession of thrusts, driving into you faster and faster as his release built up with every plunge inside you.

~

You twisted helplessly, opening your mouth to voice out your pleasure as fire spread throughout your body. His fierce pace had you writhing wildly beneath him, shaking your head at the growing tension in your stomach– signaling another approaching orgasm. You didn’t want him to stop. Your womb clenched with every harsh jab of his monstrous dick against it, the pressure escalating with every second of your ruin.

“O-oh! Please, please, please–!!” You sobbed, not knowing if you wanted him to stop his rough onslaught on your poor body or begging for more as his hips collided violently between the juncture of your thighs. The wet slap of skin on skin echoed along the hall, your passionate cries and his low groans forever imprinted on your mind. Your legs grew tired, falling lax on either side of him, unable to keep up with his vigorous pace. 

He used you like nothing more than a cocksleeve, molding the shape of his cock in your tight pussy, his sac slapping lewdly against your ass.

It became too much. 

Your mind went blank when the knot in your belly finally snapped, letting out a scream of completion when intense heat spread throughout your shaking body. Your vaginal walls gripped him tightly, trying to milk him for all his worth, the sudden tightness forcing a growl to emerge from him. Tears escaped you, the painful pleasure driving you mad in his embrace.

White lights danced behind your eyelids, your orgasm turning you into a puddled mess of ecstasy even as he continued to ravage you.

The last thing you felt before closing your eyes in exhaustion was a scorching heat filling your insides, calloused fingers rubbing the bump in your tummy in wonder.

❣️���❣️Thank you for reading~! ❣️🖤❣️

I got another treat for my dear followers! You gotta know I'm posting NSFW Art to go with my fics as well~ (*^ ‿ <*)♡

🎃Happy Halloween, you guys! Stay safe out there!🎃

Full NSFW Art here ---> (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

[marylxvrr]

" THE KING'S OBSESSION "

read part 2 here

𐙚 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 — a ruthless ruler who commands loyalty from all, yet becomes a desperate, obsessive mess when it comes to you, willing to destroy kingdoms just to keep you by his side . . .

𐙚 Trigger Warnings: Obsession, power imbalance, emotional. manipulation, implied captivity, and threats of violence.

You kept your head down, your hands trembling as you scrubbed the grand marble floors of the royal palace. Just another nameless servant in the king's vast estate, you worked tirelessly to keep your place in a world that cared little for someone like you.

The rumors about King Adrian were whispered in hushed tones among the maids. He was ruthless, ruling with an iron fist, but his charm was undeniable. His mere presence could silence a room, his sharp green eyes piercing through even the bravest of souls.

You had only seen him from afar—until the day fate crossed your paths.

It happened when you were carrying a heavy vase filled with fresh flowers, your arms straining under its weight. You misstepped, the vase slipping from your grasp and crashing to the floor. The sound echoed through the grand hall, and your heart dropped into your stomach as you realized King Adrian himself had just entered.

He paused, his eyes landing on you. You froze, breath hitching as you knelt, frantically gathering the shattered pieces.

“I-I’m so sorry, Your Majesty,” you stammered, your voice trembling as you avoided his gaze.

“Leave it,” he said, his voice low but commanding.

You stopped, your hands stilling. Slowly, you dared to glance up, meeting his piercing green eyes. His expression was unreadable, his gaze intense as it swept over you.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Y/n, Your Majesty,” you whispered.

A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Y/n,” he repeated, as though savoring the sound of your name. “How fitting.”

---

From that day on, you felt his presence everywhere. The king would linger in the halls where you worked, his gaze burning into you. At first, you tried to dismiss it as your imagination, but the gifts began to appear.

A necklace of pearls left on your cot. A fine dress, far beyond anything a maid could afford, folded neatly on your small bed. The other servants whispered, their envy thinly veiled, but unease churned in your chest.

One evening, a royal attendant summoned you to the king’s chambers. Your heart pounded as you stood before the massive double doors, anxiety tightening your throat.

When you stepped inside, Adrian was seated by the fireplace, a glass of wine in his hand. He looked up and smiled, motioning for you to approach.

“You’ve caught my attention, Y/n,” he said, setting the glass down. “And I am not a man who lets go of what he desires.”

Your breath hitched. “Your Majesty, I’m just a maid—”

“You’re mine,” he interrupted, his voice firm and unyielding. “From the moment I saw you, I knew. No one else will ever have you.”

You stepped back, fear curling in your stomach. “Your Majesty, please. I don’t belong in your world.”

Adrian rose from his chair, his imposing figure towering over you. “You belong to me,” he said, his tone soft but laced with steel. “Whether you realize it or not.”

Tears pricked your eyes, and you shook your head. “I can’t… I can’t be what you want.”

He stepped closer, cupping your cheek in his hand. His touch was deceptively gentle, but the obsession in his gaze was unmistakable. “You already are,” he murmured, his thumb brushing your skin.

You flinched, trying to pull away, but his grip tightened. “There is no escape from me, Y/n. You will stay by my side—whether as my queen or my prisoner. The choice is yours.”

Your voice cracked as you whispered, “Why me?”

His smile darkened. “Because you’re perfect. Because you’re mine. And I will destroy anyone who tries to take you from me.”

[ozlices]

i genuinely sincerely cant believe i was called a manipulative person with a victim complex by a person who acted like my savior for "rescuing" me from that house, only to have zero remorse abt kicking me back into it. esp throwing it on me a singular month after i endured even more trauma in that house. like. bruh i literally have zero idea how to even begin to process this.