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jinkiezzsstuff · 2 months

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In Season

alastor x doe! femreader

no but really this is actually so depraved and smutty i cannot believe myself i hope yall enjoy the feast xx

Summary: You were aquatinted with hell for quite some time and you quickly learned as much as you could about mating season to protect yourself from other deer sinners. Although you came across the hotel and neither you nor Alastor could resist each other, and your instincts.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, female anatomy- no pronouns, no descriptions of bodytype/skin colour/hair type, heavy breeding kink, female masturbation briefly, penetration, squirting, creampie, horrorish aspects predator n prey, ‘in heat’ trope, OOC alastor bc y’know sex, general vulgarity, brief mention of blood, swearing, not proofread, LEMME KNOW WHAT I MISSED

Word count: 5K

You’ve been in Hell several years, and at first it was a little jarring. Especially since you now had hooves, a tail, a black scent-sensitive nose, and soft floppy ears. Honestly it was amusing getting used to your new body while dodging sinners hungry for new meat, you reminisced on your first days of hell often, as they were the most exciting.

But now you were more aware, you’d spent a majority of your time in hell assessing and attempting to understand the whole eternal damnation thing- after all you weren’t much of a believer in hell when alive. You kept atop all the sinners that were of note, the different sectors of the pentagram, the overlords as well as their strengths and weaknesses that coincides with their demonic form, you also paid close attention to all the rings of hell and their sins. You’d even grown interested in the hellbors and imps, never imagining how birth and life things that was supposed to be god's gift, ended up breeding in such a foul place like hell.

Most demons spawned into hell with some sort of form be it an object like a television, a prop like a doll, a toy such as a jack in the box, or more commonly an animal. Most humans found themselves attached to animals anyways which made sense as to why many showed up as one, as well as why it wasn't surprising to see many dogs and cats as a common form in hell. During your investigative research, you ran into a few.. hurdles.

Bucks, mating seasons. It seemed like all animal life here was cursed with some sort of violent mating season. Where all that sinners could think about doing was mating. Bucks had been your biggest issue in hell, you found it pretty simple to ignore mating seasons, focusing your mind anywhere but the burning in your pelvis, but the bucks would storm around looking for the smell of the doe near them.

It’s a pain in the ass and you always had your calendars marked, alarms and reminders set, as to not forget that mating season was coming and you needed to take precautions.

Besides the chase the bucks would give you every year, you had it pretty easy in hell, you published on a blog your findings marketing it to new sinners in hell, kind of like a guide to hell, and that kept your bills paid and your mind occupied.

Walking down the road in the pentagram city with the intentions of snapping some pictures of some of the expected violence in hell, you gazed along the different brick walls and shops, shopping with your eye at times. You came by yet another brick wall, this one littered with taped up signs, your paced slowed as your eyes rapidly moved across the words on different pages.

There were varying signs, one for resale value drugs, IMP immediate murder professionals, and Charlie Morningstars Hazbin Hotel. Pausing your stride you went up to the wall getting a closer look at the shitty drawn piece of paper, there was several different… characters, on it very poorly drawn. You recognize Charlie’s name of course, you’d often see her roaming around the pride ring actually, unlike her father who you never saw.

Pulling out your phone you snapped a picture of the sign and decided to take a trip down to that side of the pentagram to check out this hotel. It’s definitely quite the story to be told that’s for sure.

You made left, rights, had to take cover for thirty minutes while some sinners duked it out shooting up a whole block, then you tried to hail down a cab- failed and trudged for the longest time to the hotel. It was so much further than you anticipated but everytime you felt like turning back you told yourself you were almost there which got you to the door of the hotel, by the end of the day however.

Knocking on the giant doors you didn’t know whether to walk in like you would a hotel, or wait for a guide. Tapping your fingers against your thighs you’re suddenly hit with strong arousal that clawed suddenly at your abdomen.

Bringing your phone up from your pocket you checked the date, you knew the season was changing and autumn was here but you didn’t have any issues with buck recently so you didn’t really have to worry. You did confirm mating season was in progress, with the conformations laying within the calendar, but it shouldn’t have been a problem, unless there is a buck inside the hotel.

Suddenly the door flew open and you were pulled away from your contemplation by a high pitched, giddy voice tugging your attention toward it. “Oh my gosh, hi! I’m Charlie! Come in! Are you here for the hotel!” The blonde rambled quickly, tugging you in by your wrist.

The hotel was weirdly homey, you could tell that there were different personalities that occupied the space, different colours of reds decorated, random items littered around the room like stiletto boots by the door, a large pile of needles in a corner, the bar seemed to be its own aesthetic design. It was comfortably warm and smelt like an active fireplace, as well as something so strong and musky it made your legs inadvertently clench.

You attempt to hold your instincts inside but this wasn’t like any other buck you’ve smelt before- it made you ravenous. Pulling yourself together while Charlie spoke about the hotel you pondered what you’d say, you could exactly be like, is there a male buck here because i’m horny as fuck.

No. Smiling to Charlie tiredly, you finally ready yourself to give her the explanation. “This place really is lovely, I didn’t actually come to be a patron but maybe write something about it for the little blog thing i have.” You felt jittering and lightheaded as you spoke, your eyes scanning the room and ears pulled back. “Uhm would it be okay to stay for a night?”

Charlie perked up clasping her hands together nodding eagerly. “Of course to both~!” She sang out happily. “I am so glad some people are interested! Who knows, maybe after a day you’ll wanna stay!” She exclaimed, twirling around happily.

You smiled at her optimism and you were genuinely happy that the princess of hell was such a breath of fresh air in the smog filled hell you all lived in. “Do you want me to show you around? Meet our staff and guests?” Charlie asked, a glimmer of hope and excitement sparkling in her eye. You took a brief moment to ponder before nodding your head. “I think that would be perfect, then though would i be able to rest, the walk fucked my hooves.” You say tapping the tip of your booted hoof against the floor.

Interlocking your elbows Charlie nodded, dragging you toward the bar. “Of course you can, I'll end our tour with your room, but let me begin it with Husk! Our loyal bartender!” Walking toward the bar you’d spotted early on, the cat demon turned his head ever so slightly toward you. “Hi,” The alcoholic said flatly, Charlie laughed nervously, but you didn’t really mind his demeanour you preferred short and to the point.

“Hey Husk, nice to meet you.” The cat grunted at you, and gave you a sorta glare. “Another deer. Course it fuckin is.” Husk muttered to himself bitterly, Charlie scolded him under her breath, before turning to you with a grin and a shrug of the shoulders. “He’s sweet once ya get to know him. Heh, anyways c’mon lets meet Angel!”

After about thirty minutes of running around you met all but one of the members residing within the hotel. As you skipped around the hotel you entirely forgot about the low grade heat buzzing between your legs, you were used to it after all, and you enjoyed yourself a lot, confessing to Charlie that you particularly enjoyed the rambunctious Nifty and flirty Angel.

“Alright, the last person of note is one of the most important. He’s been assisting in the hotel basically since the start, half of it wouldn’t be possible without him.” Charlie explained walking up to a door, on it had two different do not disturb signs. A large wood one nailed right on the door, and a second hanging off the handle.

Charlie picked the sign from its hanging position humming while examining it. “He’s never had these before.” She muttered, voice filled with confusion, however you were lost in a daze. This was the smell you could pick up down stairs, he must’ve been a buck, there wasn’t any other way.

The scent was pungent, nearly knocking you off your heels with arousal, it was musky, something only described as sweaty and primal. The natural hormones of the demon beyond the door were unlike anything you’ve experienced before; it was like he was a starved man, hungrier than ever and more than ready to breed.

It was dirty and you felt embarrassed at the reaction you were having, typically you had a low hum and no real desire to attempt to have sex with one of the many deer demons who came after you so this was a bit of a new experience. And it was nearly painful, you don’t even know the guy and yet it felt like you were being consumed by him.

“Hm, wait here I’ll go ask Nifty! She normally knows the most,” Charlie drifted off tilting her head at you. “You okay there?” She asked nervously, you promptly nod at that, inwardly cursing yourself for not being more controlled. “Yeah,” You quickly clear your throat trying to play off the lust filled tone for a dry throat. “Yes,” You say with more conviction. “Sorry it’s been a long day. Before you head off, would this guy happen to also be a deer?”

Charlie grinned super wide, purely whites on display. “He is! Best for last! I think you two will be happy to have each other haha,” She chuckled a little awkwardly, brushing her hair behind her ear. She shook her head, swiftly bidding you ado and walking off to find Nifty.

You waited a moment listening for anything down the halls, but you didn’t hear anything anywhere, and you couldn’t see anybody around, nor could you see cameras hidden in the corner. Walls crashing down, heart rate naturally kicking up; you unbuttoned your pants, spreading your legs and slipping your hand down your pants.

You whimpered at the contact of your cold fingers to your clit, feeling the sticky sensation of arousal cover the bit of thigh that your underwear didn’t touch. You soaked yourself just by the smell of the deer on the other side of the door. You slipped your middle finger and ring finger down, coating your fingers entirely before slipping them into you, curling them as you did.

You inhaled deeply resting your free arm against the door above your head for you to lean forward on, you didn’t have the intentions of fucking your self in the hall, but one thrust turned into three. Now you’re dripping, gasping for air and trying to keep yourself quiet when all you wanted to do was collapse and beg whoever occupied the other side of the door to please fuck the neediness out of you.

As you quickened your pace, your body quivered from the uncomfortable position, but you halted everything when you heard the unmistakable sound of a radio on the other side of the door. It was a gritty sound, garbled with no real sound coming out of it, just strange static. You tried to catch your breath as you listened closely, checking your left and right speedily ro assure you were still alone.

Suddenly the doorknob shifted the door falling open under your weight. Your legs stuttered attempting to catch your body, hand whipping out from inside you, slick and sticky with your arousal as if you were some whore. Unfortunately you weren’t able to catch yourself fast enough but lessened the brunt of the fall with your knees before your hands came down to finish. You were still in a blitzed out haze, but the room was pitch black, the only sound that could be heard was an ambient sound of nature and the faintest sound of the radio.

The only light that you were blessed with was the hall light from the opened door behind you. You could barely make out deer heads hung on the wall and a red couch before the door snapped shut leaving you alone in the darkness.

You whimpered, clenching your legs and your teeth, you could still hear the radio but it sounded like it was seriously messed up, switching stations, pitches and incorporating sounds you’d never heard from a radio, like growls and deep rumblings.

Your fear mixed with desire and the smell of lust was far more palpable in this room. It was so much harder to ignore the scent and the smell of the buck who was definitely worked up in this room. “What a depraved little doe you are.” You jumped at the voice, nothing like you expected. He sounded wicked, dark, and surprisingly, hornier than you.

You could now hear him in the room with you, his deep pants, the footsteps around, you swear you could’ve heard him accidentally hit his antler against something as well, it was like he just materialised. “What’re you doing out of bed so late? You do know how filthy bucks can be this time of year, don’t you.”

You yelped as two bright red eyes appeared just a few feet in front of you, either this guy was crouched or contorted as you never stood from the floor. As his eyes got closer to you, his being consumed you entirely, as it dawned on you that he was crawling toward you like a goddamn animal.

“Sorry.” You meekly whimpered, tilting your head back ever so slightly, neck on display for him. He let out a baritone chuckle, shocking you slightly, before he replaced that shock with a new-by pouncing on top of you.

He brought his face closer to yours, the crazily dialed eyes of his illuminating your face enough for him to properly see and observe your face. You however only got brief glimpses of a strained yellow smile, and messy red hair that stuck to his face from sweat. You could feel his body heat against you making your own body feel hotter by the second, his right hand sat above your head, his other grabbed ahold of the wrist that moments ago was deep inside you.

One of his knees sat outside of your body by your thigh, while the other knee occupied the inner thigh too close to your core for comfort, or perhaps not close enough. All you knew is this deer was one of the horniest you’ve ever come across, his breath was erratic chest heaving, breath tickling your face and neck, his eyes were blown and obviously a firey red bright enough to add a horror-esque ambience.

You could feel the strain he had against his suit pants, it was hard not to when in the position he took he was straddling one of your thighs. He gripped your hand harder bringing it up to his face, your heart pounding in your ribcage as you watched motionlessly.

He groaned at the sight of your still wet fingers, his smile stretching just slightly as his eyes momentarily closed. Then his mouth opened, as did his eyes, teasingly he opened his mouth bringing your fingers up to him, before he took a hold with his mouth swirling his long tongue around your digits. You whined, closing your eyes at the feeling, the way he did it was not just in an attempt to be pornographic but to properly taste you, coating his taste buds with your arousal. Pulling his mouth away with an exasperated groan, he dragged his sharp teeth along your flesh, leaving tiny cuts that exuded just enough blood to satiate his desire.

He pulled himself away properly, saliva stringing as he did. You peaked your eyes open, as suddenly a feeling of being sucked into the floor consumed you and you felt like screaming. Though it all happened too fast that you weren’t able to squeak anything out; the floor sucked you in and within seconds spit you out. Gently your body bounced against soft velvet comforters on what you assumed was a bed- his bed. Still surrounded by only the blackened room, the buck nowhere you could see, you sat there heart pounding, bewildered, scared and horny, a unique combination to be fair.

“Tell me, my dear doe. When was the last time you gave into such, primal desires?” The man’s voice appeared before he did, sliding up beside you from the shadows. “Never.” You whisper looking into his deepened red eyes. “I am so sorry. I avoid bucks, I came for business- I didn’t- god i’m sorry i couldn’t help myself- you fuckin,” You threw your head back groaning in frustration, feeling embarrassed to admit you were just about willing to do anything he said if it meant he spread you out and bred you.

He chuckled demonically, his hand sticking out to you. “Alastor, sweetheart, pleasure to meet you, quite, the pleasure.” Alastor’s radio voice lowered and he purred to you so sultry that you clenched your thighs together. Grasping his larger clawed hand that he had stuck out, you shook him tightly enjoying the warmth and contact. “YN, pleasure to meet you too.”

Gently pulling his hand away, Alastor inched his way closer to you, leaning over he placed his hand on the other side of your torso seemingly trying to resume the position he held on the floor. “I could smell you enter the hotel, you know. I keep myself away every season and no other passer by, has been an issue. So what is it that you’ve done my dear,” Alastor questioned accusingly while dragging a claw up your neck and getting back to being on top of you.

Alastor felt like he couldn’t help himself, he felt a yearning for sex he’d not felt ever, sure there’s been the occasional session with his hand on a particularly trying mating season, but never real feral need like this. He wanted to leave his mark on you, and keep all those other foul deer demons that may attempt to take their claim on you in the future.

Growling radio admission and static echoed throughout the room, Alastor promptly closed the inches between your bodies, gently collapsing on top of you. Alastor dragged his tongue up your neck from your collar to your jaw line, ending his travel with an opened mouth kiss. You whimpered at the sensation of his body against you clutching his shirt, as he nipped at your neck with his sharp teeth drawing blood.

His thigh was pressed against your core with the way he leant down on you, and you wondered if he could feel how you were pulsing desperately begging him to fill you. Against your will you jerked up grinding yourself into him, causing him to groan at the own pleasure he got from the friction. Alastor then pulled away entirely looking down at you, then a gentle red light flickered on, then another, and finally a third, lighting the room up with a reddish glow.

You weren’t focused on how, or where the light came from, but rather the man in front of you. You had no clue it was Alastor, as in thee overlord Alastor, although you should’ve put it together based on all the radio feedback that sounded from out of him. Of course you knew of him from your research but he’d been gone when you came down so you easily forgot him.

Alastor was dishevelled, without a suit coat, just a button up and his suit pants, his hair was a mess as you briefly saw before, but man oh man did he look a wreck. He was sweaty, his antlers were out on full display, his eyes lidded.

“I had no idea you were a deer.” You say eyeing him up and down, he chuckled at that. “So you know of me?” The question, you might almost say, sounded uncertain, perhaps before with the lights off lended the two of you a comfortable anonymity that you don’t have anymore. Nodding your head you can’t help but attempt to gain some friction between your legs. “Darling if you truly want this as much as I, then I'd be more than happy to satiate the hunger for both of us- so long as we see to a date and several others after. I wouldn’t be able to stand seeing you with another deer after me.”

Although this formal speech was out of place for your current predicament you looked past it because you wouldn’t mind this being more than a one time hook up. “Of course, I hate one night stands.” Smiling at him, his smile softened compared to its harsher one before. Alastor moved in, this time you were able to watch him in the dim light, leaning back fully and off your elbows, you got comfortable on the soft pillow that kept you somewhat propped up.

You wanted your hands free to touch him, and hold him. When his face was inches from you, lips barely touching, your hands came up to play with his hair. You go cautiously hearing rumours about the distaste he has for contact he doesn’t initiate, however the moment your hands connect to his hot neck, he moans, pushing himself down to connect to your lips.

He smiled through, as you expected him to, but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had, purely based on how intense he was once he finally got a taste of you. You just barely opened your mouth before his tongue was escaping his mouth to explore yours, it was a searing kiss one that was unique to anything before. His body once again lowered as he relaxed on top of you, most of his weight rested on you, which you loved the feeling of it was like he was encasing you with him.

You could feel the stiff hard on that ached to be freed, and his uneven breaths that expanded his chest further into yours, like a tide your chests pushed and pulled each other in and out. It was erotic, and as your make out session dragged on the messier it got, teeth scraping tongues fighting, saliva glistening on the perimeter of both of your mouths. Your hands dug into his hair occasionally touching his long antlers that were out, and everytime you did he’d moan statically into your mouth.

Alastor cared little about his poise and instead chased his own pleasure as his mouth entangled with yours, you were receptive and as needy as he was, so he felt no shame when he started to hump himself against your core. He took even more pleasure in hearing you whine for more, bucking up into him. You buttons were still undone from earlier which made him feel a sense of anger he couldn’t explain, he wanted to be the one to make you come undone, he wish he could’ve gotten to you before you fucked yourself against his door.

So with a new goal in the demons mind, he snaked his arm in between your bodies, him needing to lift himself a bit to do so, and snuck his hand down you pants straight to your soaking wet core. Gasping at the contact you jerked up into his hand, his fingers sliding down the length of you leaving no area untouched.

“Impatient?” Alastor mocked pulling away finally, although he was in no place to, as even the simplest word came out jagged and out of breath. “Alastor please,” You begged unable to stop the way you jerked up into the warmth of his hand.

With contemplative hum Alastor halted all movement making you groan. It was unbearable to put up with, perhaps the foreplay of it all would be more enjoyable if it wasn’t such a painful lust you were in. Snapping his fingers, cool washed over your body like freezer air, and soon you realized you were left bare.

You jumped curling into yourself afraid of being so suddenly exposed. Looking up you were surprised to find the overlord himself nude with you, the comforter that once laid flat underneath you now pulled up behind him. Leaning forward blanket following in suit behind him, you simply stared at him, the markings on his body, the fact he had two tone skin, and of course the more obvious aspect of his body, the fact he was hung.

Covering the two of you under the safety of the blanket, Alastor pulled your legs apart gently, body slotting back where it’s supposed to be in between your legs. “You’re devine torture my dear. Attempting to be somewhat gentlemenly in a state like this, when you’re so desperate, is absolute torture.” Alastor grit out, his static gone as he struggled against the animalistic urge to dive into you.

Breathing out a breath you had no clue you were holding, you begged him pressing your body up into his. Thoughtlessly you reached down between you two, wrapping your legs around his torso to nudge him closer, and slowly you wrapped your fingers around him making him almost robotically crackle.

Giving him a few awkward strokes, due to your position, you guided him towards your entrance that needed no prep, with how you pulsed aching, and dripped greedily you weren’t too worried about pain.

Alastor barely took your guidance, as once you stroked him a twig snapped, when you lined him up to your entrance, he jerked forward plunging into you rather harshly causing your body to jolt. A heat shot through your body crawling down your pelvis straight to your toes, while your jaw hung open, unable to make the noise. Alastors radio was popping and crackling as he fucked into you, grinding his body against your own, he was pouring himself into you as fast as he could and for him it still wasn’t fast enough.

Meanwhile you were still attempting to catch up, your brain hazily lagging behind as your body jerked along with every thrust. You could feel yourself dripping down the length of him, the wet slapping of skin was just more indication you were practically a faucet. Reaching upward to grab onto his neck, it was your turn to growl viciously, loving the way his eyes and smile looked in this fucked out haze.

Grinning at him you tilted your head back, eyes closed at the insane pace Alastor was attempting. “Fuck Al, just like that please don’t fuckin stop,” You moan spreading your legs further apart so your clit was more exposed to his flesh that came slapping down.

One of his hands grasped your neck lightly squeezing, you clenched in tandem with his choking, absolutely loving the feeling of him having you at his mercy. “Who knew such a sweet face would be so, filthy.” Alastor said through a toothy smile his radio voice was gone only leaving his strained raw vocals.

You let out wails of pleasure as he fucked you into the mattress, before you roughly pulled Alastors head down forcing him to give you a kiss. Your tongues met before your lips did as neither of you were going in for gentle but rather a greedy taste of one another.

Alastor moaned and whimpered more when kissing you seemingly without hesitation, making you feel closer to the edge then before. Arching your body up you clawed Alastors back begging him, tears threatening to spill and the feeling of need. “Please Alastor, please fuck- so good it’s gonna- i’m gonna cum- Al don’t stop,” You cried loudly stumbling over what you wanted to say as you felt hot all over.

Above you Alastor could barely hold on, his forehead rested against you as you cried, wailing for him to fuck you begging for him to make you cum, and he knew from how you cried for him, ge was gonna. He also knew he wasn’t far himself feeling as you clenched and leaked all over the bed, it was disgusting and he loved it. Your skin stuck to his as his body came crashing down on yours legs too shaky to hold him himself up, but his pace didn’t let up all that much still forcing himself deep into you, marking every inch of you.

You screamed, clawing his back wrapping your arms around him as you convulsed. You whined about how it was so good how hard you were coming but it got mixed up in his mind as he focused on the violent gushes of liquid that rushed out of you. It seemed your orgasm kept being pulled out as you continued to gush around him making him bellow out his own praises of how good you felt, how glad he was you were coming on his cock and making a wet mess of his bed.

Alastor was ravenous as he used your cunt to milk him of everything he had trying hard to get himself as deep as possible in you. Meanwhile you continued to moan and whine at him your orgasm still pushing on gushes is liquid squirting out of you as your sentive mating body wanted more, wanted to be bred and was ready to hold out to do so.

And bred it was, Alastor bit onto you as he came, loving the feeling of filling you to the brim, it wasn’t anything he’d done or felt before. You groaned, smiling wickedly and you hungrily kissed up his neck pulling his ear with your teeth, whispering to him about how badly you wanted to be filled with his cum, eyes rolling back as he stilled in you finally.

Your body ceased a bit before his movement ceased, It was all insanely animalistic. Now as Alastor laid on top of you, still inside you, you felt the post nut clarity truly hit you. You were still in a lustful haze, however you’d never been that much with a man, nevermind one you haven’t properly met. Although you didn’t mind, as you dragged your fingers through his sweaty hair you reminded yourself he wanted to see you more, not just use you.

Taking a deep breath, Alastor enjoyed the smell of your skin and the doe pheromones you naturally let off. In the back of his mind twisted questions that he couldn’t bother trying to answer. His head laid under your chin, face between your breasts dazed and staring off into space. You cautiously traced your fingers up his ears, his antlers fell in size back to little sticks. His ears twitched but he made no remark as you gently played with them.

“Do you regret it?” You broke the silence with the nasty feeling of worry in your gut, worry that you messed up, worried you both made a mistake. Alastor let out a long hum, his radio frequencies back in action as he did. “No dear not at all. Lust or not I was certain about my decision. I had the strength to hold back when I heard you on the other side of the door but I didn’t want to.” Alastor admits still a little coy is his delivery.

Although he did a very good job at assuring you because any doubt you had vanished. It was a vulnerable time for the both of you, during mating season, that having the knowledge that he still could’ve kept control, kept himself on the other side of the door but instead choose to claim you, yeah made your heart and mind content.

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gremlingottoosilly · 6 months

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What lies within (Tentacle!Monster!Konig x fem!Reader)

It's mating season for monster hybrids. Unfortunately for you, the colonel didn't have time to dump his eggs everywhere. TW and tags: Non-con, size difference, oviposition, monster hybrids, forced breeding, belly bulging, yandere Konig, possessive Konig, tentacles, double penetration. Word count: 3278

The brave new world of opportunities for monsters.

The illustrious life for those who are not afraid of being a hunter in the billion flocks of weak, stupid prey.

There are endless possibilities for the ones who decide to serve in the various armed forces specifically tailored to monsters.

And loads of other bullshit that König had to endure every day on the briefs. Propaganda, advertisement, and weak attempts to make a new generation of monster hybrids abandon their old ways and join either army or contracting forces, making them glorified mercenaries. Jaided and disillusioned, the colonel long abandoned the thoughts that service can be fun, that it can bring him something other than money and occasional bullets in various places.

“Most inclusive workplaces for monsters,” his ass. They were fed bullshit on top of other bullshit, and he is already tired of war – but there isn’t much he can do besides it. The payment is nice, he gets to eat his enemies and tears through entire units of squishy, weak humans who make perfect snacks from their useless fucking bodies.

— So. Abandoned by your team, ja?

Unfortunately for him, sometimes war operations meant that he was not supposed to eat prisoners – he was supposed to take them, hoard them into rounds, and send them for either ransom or whatever higher-ups wanted to do with them. Sometimes, it’s torture for information, sometimes, it’s attempts to bring them to their side if they are worth it.

Sometimes, he just looked in the eyes of a soft, squishy little prey and just couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger.

Well…” sometimes” is a very big word. He had never once thought about keeping the POW for himself before he met this stupidly beautiful, soft nurse with a perfect face, nice pair of legs in that ugly baggy uniform, and the most beautiful scent in the entire…

He never thought of keeping the prisoner for himself before he met you.

It was supposed to be an easy mission for you – he can see it from your lack of normal armor. Either you had no idea that KorTac had their own plans for whatever you wanted to do here, or your contractor is extremely cheap. He likes either way – you smell like a human, and he likes dumb humans who would make perfect victims. You smell and look weak, trembling, perfect fucking pray for someone like him. König didn’t feel the need to transform for this battle. Your team ran away like a bunch of bunnies before he ever fired his first shot, but he could still feel his tentacles slowly stir under his hood. He can feel his body transforming without the need to – and he feels the pressure in his lower stomach.

When was the last time he was able to put his eggs somewhere other that cold, unforgiving air?

Even the bagginess of your uniform doesn’t obscure him from looking at the sway of your hips, at the perfect surface of your tummy, and feeling the smell of your ripe, fertile body. Having a strong sense of smell always came like a curse in the team of monsters where showering after a mission isn’t something that is done by many, buy König can appreciate his nose now – he can smell how perfect you are for breeding. How scared, too.

Poor thing, probably terrified of his. König knows how he looks, even in his human form – tall, broad, bigger than any man you saw before, so much more muscular that even with your military training as a combat nurse, he could still break your spine with one hand. His size is something that made it impossible to find a partner normal ways – monsters are naturally too dominant to ever submit to him, and humans are simply too scared to deal with someone like him. He isn’t surprised, no – if anything, he understands completely.

You sob, your voice is melting with incomprehensible pleas and little whines. You are shaking under him – a poor, dumb girl who wasn’t aware that her best shot at surviving was to try and shoot his crotch off before he pulled a gun out of your hands.

— Pl…please, you can’t…you can’t do this! It’s a crime, I was on medical duty, it’s…

König likes humans because they are dumb. Civilian humans are even cuter – run around, thinking their lives are protected by sets of laws and rules that, in fact, don’t apply to the strong – and you, in your full half-military half-civvie glory, are fucking perfect. You whine and sib, tears running down your face when he presses you under him. Your hand hits the hard rocks of the ground, and he shifts slightly, dragging you closer to a softer patch of grass.

He laughs when you are trying to scramble from under him, your lower half is pinned by his weight – he is surprised you can still move. You move your pelvis, trying to get out – and he moans quietly when you start rubbing your crotch against his. You freeze, fear spreading on your face – god, he missed that feeling. When was the last time he got to actually breed someone? Or even just have sex with someone as cute?

— You really think so, Schatzen? That rules will protect you?

He moves his crotch against yours, making you sob a bit more. You’re sweet and compliant, and he just loves breaking soft things like you – it’s a desire to break, to destroy, to make you his. He knows that, technically, forcing himself on women from enemy lines really is a war crime. He also knows that if he’d managed to breed you with his eggs, monster laws would never allow you to separate after mating.

Besides, it's not like he is going to let you go, so you could tell on him. König never believed in love at first sight, but you would be a perfect vessel for his eggs and his tentacles – what else would he need from a wife, right?

— You’re pretty.

He says plainly, his hand goes to rub your chest through the fabric of your uniform. You won’t need those ugly clothes anymore – he’d make sure to buy you something nice and frail that won’t make you too uncomfortable to carry his eggs. Maybe a soft, frail dress or some of those cute maternity clothes when your body starts to change. He can’t wait to see his breasts swelling with milk – even if his unfertilized eggs won’t need it, he certainly would. Even if you’re too weak to handle his load, he’d make sure to get you a nice, firm plug and keep you on his tentacles constantly.

You start to sob even more when you understand what he is trying to do – when he rips your pants to reveal the softness of your cunt and the fragility of your [anties, you actually manage to push your legs against his dick a good few times. He is too aroused to notice – if anything, he likes how fiery you are, your little yells and loud screams for help. No one will come to aid you – he barked the orders for his soldiers to go and fuck around somewhere else while he was busy devouring his little prize. Colonel doesn’t like having an audience – if anything, he is saving your dignity right now. If anything, he is remarkably soft when he pushes one of his long, red tendrils down your body, massaging your pussy through your panties.

You’re moist already when his tentacle finds a way to your labia. What a slutty nurse you are – getting off the enemy colonel breeding you in the middle of the battlefield. Your tears mean nothing when he is too busy massaging and pressing and playing with your sticky, puffy folds – poor girl, so deprived of attention that even the weird texture of his extensions only fuels your desire.

So fragile, so perfect – and so, so wet that your adorable white panties are already become transparent, sticking to your soft pussy. When he takes you home, he’d make sure to forbid you from wearing any underwear at all – you would meet him dressing in nothing but his shirts, a hand on your tummy to support the weight of your eggs. Walls of your pussy clenching on the plug he’d make to insert in you every morning.

— Don’t…please, don’t, n…

You whine ever so sweetly, trying to close your legs so he won’t be able to touch you. It’s futile, just one of his tendrils is ten times stronger than your hands. He gets through your closed legs, buried in the moistness of your sweet, perfect pussy. You taste heavenly – just one minute enough to make him hungrier than before. König’s mating season was often postponed due to constant adrenaline rushes and things he takes to enhance his battle abilities – but he can feel eggs pressing at the inside of his body now, preparing to be released in the sweet heat of your body. But he has to prepare you first.

— Quiet now. It won’t hurt unless you want it to.

His tendrils are coming to moisten your pussy even more – sweet numbness filling your body from the lower stomach and right to your head. Knowing that you must feel dizzy and just a tad bit dumb, König can’t wait but chuckle. He likes you empty-headed, adorable dumbness in your eyes. He knows that he doesn’t know you, that you might even already have a boyfriend on the civil side of your life – but he doesn’t care. His mind doesn’t easily fall for just anyone, but if he saw a perfect vessel in you, there is no escape. At least he is nice enough to be gentle.

You whimper slightly when he pushes the first tendril inside of you. Too impatient to use his hands or tongue to make you feel a bit more at ease – after all, you are still on the battlefield, even if your friends abandoned you to get picked up by KorTac. Too impatient to soothe you with his words, he uses one of his smaller, thinner tentacles to push your pussy walls, make you squeeze him and milk for all his worth. You are wet, but not enough to take him without crying. Hot and soft, the cold texture of his extensions contrasts with your body too much – you are shaking, he can feel slight vibrations at the soft walls of yours.

Fitting him like a glove, too perfect to exist – he just wants to take you with him, to flip you on your tummy and push all of his tentacles inside. You’re tight and warm, you make him go crazy from desire. It’s weird how a strong and mighty colonel can be so charmed by just some enemy nurse, but when you whine slightly and try to adjust your body to fit more comfortably under him, he just knows that he has to take you. That, no matter how much you are crying and praying for him to stop, you want to be used by him. Perhaps, with certain training, you would want his eggs, too.

Second tendril caught you by surprise. Just when you started to adjust to the weird, slimy feeling of something writhing inside of you, spreading your tight walls around it and clashing with the heat of your insides, a second, bigger one started to press on your clenched folds. You wanted to beg, to ask him to stop – you’re too tight for this, too small, you would never be able to take even just one of his tentacles, you were…

But his tendrils press easily, he accesses lube spreading between your legs. You are sobbing from the feeling, and he is laughing. His hand goes to rip the upper part of your clothing, revealing your midriff. Fingers pressing on your tummy, just to feel his tentacles inside – he laughs when the skin of your stomach is tensed up, revealing the outlines of his extension. God, he can’t wait to make your body swell from him. Even though the eggs are not bearing his children, he can imagine you and a bunch of little ones – you’d look much better like this than pretending to be a nurse. Honestly, what were you even trying to do on the battlefield?

— Stay still, ja?

— Too much! Please, n…no more…

— Poor thing. You’ll feel so much better after I add the third one.

He knows that he is overstepping a bit, that your body isn’t used to taking something as big as his tentacles – but König also knows that his pre-cum makes you feel dizzy warm. Acting like a natural aphrodisiac, you won't be able to resist relaxing under him. The lubricant is enough to allow his other tentacle to force himself in your ass – he isn’t going to breed that hole yet, but it doesn't mean that he can’t use it.

He groans loudly when your asshole clenches around him – he had to stretch you quite a bit, that sweet numbness of his precum isn’t making you relaxed enough to take him whole, but he is managing, one agonizing centimeter after another. At the point you’re out of breath, with your face all flushed, he already knows he fucking won – he knows that you, poor, fragile thing, isn’t going anywhere. He would say that he feels horrible about forcing you like this – but this is the start of a new, better life for you. Being the bride of a monster of his rank is a dream for any lowly human like you. Can go as far as to say you’re lucky he ever laid his eyes on you.

— Stop, please…’s too much.

— You feel good, Katzen. Relax, and you’ll be even better.

— I don’t…please, just let me go, I…

— Is this your first time with a monster?

— Yes.

— Gut. Would break you in for me.

He laughs at your whimpers, his hand goes to cradle your face in an almost soft expression. He gently presses his fingers across your skin, making you all nice and warm for him – he wants to kiss you all over, but the only thing he can do in his more monstrous form is to press one of his shorter tentacles against your lips, mocking the way normal people kiss. You sob, but he presses the tip on your mouth, passing it through your teeth – you would feel better after ingesting his pre-cum, can even clench around him so more, chasing your own pleasure.

König wants you to feel good, so he presses his hand against your face, allowing you to tremble and cry as much as you want. He wants to be nice to you, so his other hand presses on your clit, finding the tense bud and breaking the nothingness between your legs. You tremble even more when he starts to spread your folds around his fingers, both of his tentacles working to milk your holes and spread you as much as possible.

He whispers sweet nothings in your ear when both of the tendrils working on your pussy suddenly change their direction – they start to spread your walls instead of just fucking it. You feel exposed and vulnerable, he can see the pink flesh and glossiness of your cunt. It’s embarrassing for you, and he knows it – but god, you’re too fucking perfect to pass.

You don’t even manage to ask him what he is doing when you feel something much larger pressing against your pussy. The biggest of his tentacles – almost as thick as an arm, pushing inside of you. He had a purpose, a desire to do something with you that you could never understand – silly humans know nothing about his biological need to push his eggs somewhere, of course, but you’re just fucking perfect. Too perfect to pass on this opportunity.

You plead and cry when he presses further, a little bump on your tummy is obvious now, with each centimeter of his tendril pushing. When he finally bottoms inside of you, pressing directly against your cervix, you are too fucked out to even think.

It’s painful, you think. Three thick tentacles roam inside your pussy, pushing and grinding against your gummy, tight walls – and another one of his extensions in your ass, writhing and massaging your insides.

It’s pleasurable, you feel. The tentacles are uneven, cold, each little bump makes you cry out from pleasure, the overwhelming feeling is something you could never achieve with a normal dick. He cradles your face and chuckles softly when you moan and cry at the same time when he gently presses his red tendril against your soft lips, and you part them because you don’t want to resist anymore. Because you can’t resist anymore.

— So good for me. Such a good girl, liked being fucked by the enemy.

— I don’t like it! He laughs at your misery, pushing his tentacles back only to fuck you harder. He can feel the tension multiply in his stomach – he feels the movement of eggs forming from inside and pushing down the biggest one of his tendrils.

When you first feel the pressure of an egg in your pussy, you want to scream.

You scratch on his hands like a wild cat, clenching on him like crazy. If he didn’t see horror and shock on your face, he’d think you wanted him. You are tight, tighter than you were before – your pussy is closing around him, not letting him go, and he can only smile to himself when he feels every little bump sending electric shocks right into your core when you feel his eggs traveling from the start of his tendrils down, to your soft, welcoming womb.

God, you will look perfect, all swollen and helpless – he can bring you a fucking collar, maybe push you on his lap and parade you as his precious wife for everyone to see. His scent lingers on your body, no matter if you want it or not. Silly human, you try to fight him like you didn’t lose the moment you let him pin your body. So perfect, he thinks of where you were before he found you. How many partners do you have, and how well would you play the role of his little breeding machine.

He massages your tummy, with each egg taking its place in your womb. Soothes tense skin and whispers sweet promises in your ear when you cry and try to push him away. So perfect, so sweet for him – he doesn’t know the fuck he lived without you.

When the last egg takes its place, making you bulge from all the weight inside of you, he can finally calm himself down enough to bring his human form partially. When he finally retracted his tentacles from your tired, sensitive body, not forgetting to press against your clit a good few times to prolong your unwanted, exhausting orgasm, he could finally press a kiss on your lips.

You’re a mess – torn clothes, covered in cum and thick transparent slime, trembling and crying softly. You close your pussy around every one of his eggs like a good girl, and he knows you would be a perfect mating partner – but god, you need a good shower and soft mattress so he can try to fuck you again in his human form, and steal all the hugs and silly affections he wanted.

— Will you let me go?

He laughs, picking you up swiftly. So fragile in his hands, he doesn’t even want to think about letting you roam freely.

— Of course not, Schatzen. Just get used to it, ja?

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere cod #male yandere

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bwabys-scenarios · 5 months

Text

JJK characters with breeding kinks

‼️REBLOGS APPRECIATED‼️

warnings: breeding, creampies, sex

characters: Gojo, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna

A/N: may do a part 2 to this with more characters if this does well… I don’t know too much about all of the JJK characters because I’ve only seen season 1, so go easy on me <3

NSFW JJK taglist:

If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned !

Gojo

This man has breeding on the mind 24/7. You’re such a cute little thing, walking around the house in just a pair of panties and a sweater, he can barely contain his arousal every time you pass him by. He’s begging to get your pregnant, and will give you creampie after creampie to make his dreams of being a dad a reality.

Nanami

He wants that domestic family life pretty bad, and getting you pregnant is one of the many steps he wants to take in having a normal, fulfilling relationship with you. Unlike Gojo, he’ll put a ring on your pretty little finger before he even thinks about getting you pregnant. He lets you know that he wants kids very early on so you’re aware of what he wants.

Choso

He loves being an older brother, but lately he’s been thinking about becoming a father too. Once you brought up the idea of having children, Choso hasn’t been able to keep his hands off of you. He’s got breeding on the brain, and he can’t leave you empty, he’s gotta give you a creampie for the road every time he sees you!

Sukuna

He partly wants to breed you to have possession over you in a way no one else can, and partly because he wants an heir. He does love you, and when you so cutely as for him to knock you up, how can he refuse you? He’s the king of curses, and he can do anything he wants, and he WANTS to pound your pussy and fill your womb until you’re absolutely stuffed with his seed.

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pucksandpower · 6 months

Text

A Gentleman’s Guide to Courtship

Max Verstappen x reporter!Reader

Summary: Max decides to get relationship advice from a book written in 1815 and it goes about as well as you would expect. But sometimes the wrong formula still gets the right answer

“In our modern age, when so many standards of propriety have shifted, a gentleman may find himself at a loss when attempting to court a young lady. The rules of etiquette that governed such relationships in decades past offered a framework to guide conduct and ensure all was done properly.

This humble volume intends to provide today’s gentleman that same guidance, so that he may pay suit to the object of his affection in a manner befitting them both. Within these pages, the reader will find what constitutes proper introductions, suitable topics of conversation, appropriate gifts or tokens of regard, and protocols for exchanging correspondence.

While society evolves, there remain certain courtesies that bespeak good breeding. Master these, and you shall go far in winning the hand of any respectable young lady.”

- Excerpt from “A Gentleman’s Guide to Courtship” by Reginald Worthington, 1815

A gentleman must display impeccable manners, never using foul language and maintaining a calm and collected demeanor at all times.

“So Max, tell us how you’re feeling ahead of the British Grand Prix this weekend,” you ask, microphone in hand.

Max shifts in his seat, avoiding your gaze. “Uh, yeah, feeling good. The car has been quick so far this weekend in practice.”

You nod enthusiastically. As the newly appointed F1 reporter for Sky Sports, you’re eager to prove yourself in the paddock. And getting an exclusive interview with the reigning double world champion is a great start.

“You have not won at Silverstone before. Do you think you can do it for the first time on Sunday?”

“Absolutely. The team have been working hard and I think we have a good chance,” Max replies.

You glance down at your notes. “Now Max, let’s go back to last weekend in Austria. The incident with Lando on the first lap — can you walk us through what happened from your perspective?”

Max feels his face getting hot. The controversial collision is still a sore point after the race stewards penalized him. He takes a breath, pushing down his true feelings.

“Well, it was racing incident,” he says slowly. “Lando had a good start and was alongside going into turn one. It was tight between us and unfortunately we made contact.”

You raise an eyebrow. “But do you feel that you were more at fault? It seemed to be quite an aggressive move.”

Max clenches his fist under the table discreetly. Calm and collected, he reminds himself.

“Like I said, it was just racing. These things happen sometimes between us drivers.”

“So you don’t think it was an unsafe maneuver on your part?” You press. Your piercing gaze makes Max shift again.

Just stay polite, he thinks. But his frustration boils over.

“It was freaking racing, okay!” He snaps, his calm demeanor vanishing. “Shit happens! Lando didn’t leave me space and we collided. Don’t try to blame me!”

You lean back, eyes widening in surprise at his sudden outburst. Max’s heart drops, immediately regretting his loss of composure.

“Uh, sorry about that,” he mutters, not meeting your eyes. “I didn’t mean to curse.”

“No worries, I understand it’s a sensitive topic,” you say evenly. But inside, you’re taken aback. You’ve never seen Max Verstappen react like this.

Desperate to get the interview back on track, you move to the next question. “Let’s talk about your rivalry on the track. Do you feel the tension has somewhat decreased this season as you run ahead with the championship?”

Max nods, clinging to the redirect. “All twenty drivers on the grid are competitors at heart. For sure the rivalry grows each season. Not everyone is fighting for the title so there’s less at stake for some but that can change at any moment. There is always respect between us.”

His standard PR answer seems to bore you. Glancing at the clock, you start wrapping up the interview.

“Last question, Max. Any special plans for the British Grand Prix weekend?”

“Eh, not really,” Max mutters, still kicking himself for losing his temper earlier. So much for gentlemanly manners around ladies. You’ll surely think he’s a foul-mouthed jerk now.

“Okay, I think that’s all we have time for,” you say, standing up. “Thanks again for the interview, Max, I know you’re quite busy here.”

“Yep, no problem,” Max mumbles, avoiding eye contact.

You turn to leave, but stop. “And Max? Don’t worry too much about the clash with Lando. It happens to all drivers sometimes. See you around!” You flash him a smile before exiting.

Max sits stunned for a moment after you leave. Even after his swearing and temper, you hadn’t been upset with him.

A grin slowly spreads across his face. Maybe he hadn’t ruined his chances after all!

Walking back to the Red Bull motorhome, Max can’t stop thinking about you. The way you smiled at him, so warm and understanding. And how you smelled vaguely of lavender.

Max has been captivated since you arrived in the paddock but he has no idea how to approach you … or any woman for that matter.

His only experience is with fast cars, not beautiful reporters.

Pulling up to his driver room, Max is greeted by his physio, Bradley.

“How did it go mate? You look bothered,” Brad asks.

Max sighs. “That interview with Y/N was a disaster. I screwed it up!”

He recounts his slip-up angrily cursing about Lando to Brad, who tries to stifle a laugh.

“Really, that’s what you’re worried about? A little swearing? I’m sure she’s heard far worse around the paddock!”

“But the book said to never use foul language around ladies! To be a gentleman at all times! And I failed at the first test!” Max runs an agitated hand through his hair. “Now she’ll never consider me as a suitor.”

Brad gapes at him. “A suitor? Max, what century are you living in?” He glances down and notices the antique book peeking from Max’s backpack.

Grabbing it, Brad starts flipping through the pages incredulously.

“Wait, you’re actually trying to follow advice from this ancient thing to get a girl?”

Max tries to grab the book back, his cheeks reddening. “Give it back! Yes it’s old but shouldn’t dating still be proper and polite?”

“This stuff is wildly outdated. Just ask her out for drinks. Be yourself!” Brad gestures exasperatedly.

“I can’t just ask her out, are you crazy?” Max sputters. “What if she says no?”

Brad places a hand on his shoulder. “You’re the bloody world champion. And you’re not too hard on the eyes. She’d be mad to turn you down!”

Max cracks a reluctant smile, appreciating the confidence in him. Maybe Brad is right, Max considers. He just needs to relax and stop overthinking things.

“Tell you what, the team is throwing a big party after the race on Sunday. Why don’t you invite Y/N as your date?” Brad suggests.

Max’s stomach flutters nervously at the thought. “I guess I could try ...”

Brad claps him on the back. “That’s what I’m talking about! Now hand that daft old book over so I can throw it in the bin.”

“No! I mean … I’ll hold onto it,” Max says, snatching it back.

It may be outdated but it still has some wise words, he thinks. Even if he doesn’t follow everything word-for-word, a brush up on manners couldn’t hurt.

Max feels reenergized. One mishap wouldn’t ruin his chances with you.

This weekend he would focus on winning the British Grand Prix. And then he would ask you to be his date for the after-party.

Properly, like a gentleman.

What could go wrong?

A gentleman should compose handwritten letters with eloquence and embellished language to express his sentiments, as these missives often carry great weight.

Max sits at the desk in his driver room, pen poised over a pad of stationary borrowed from the hotel.

He takes a deep breath.

My Dearest Y/N …

He pauses. How exactly does he eloquently express his feelings here? Chewing the pen anxiously, he tries again.

My Dearest Y/N,

Since first you did arrive upon the Formula 1 scene, I have been captivated by your beauty and grace ...

Max groans, crumpling up the paper. This sounds ridiculous! But the book had stressed the importance of handwritten letters to woo a lady. And with his shyness around you in person, writing a letter seemed the best approach.

If only he could find the right words.

Staring at the blank sheet of paper, Max thinks back to the British Grand Prix last weekend. He had taken Brad’s advice and invited you to the post-race celebrations as his date.

To his delight, you had happily accepted.

The party had been going perfectly. You both laughed and chatted easily over drinks. Then the DJ started playing and Max got the courage to ask you to dance. With your hand in his, bodies swaying gently together, Max was sure this was his moment to finally tell you his feelings.

But when he tried, the words tangled up inside. His throat went dry and he could only stare mute into your eyes. The song ended and the magic of the moment faded. You slipped away back to your friends, leaving Max cursing his nervousness.

Which is why he’s now resorted to writing a letter. If only he can find the right poetic phrases, he would be able to express everything in his heart.

Chewing his lip, Max starts again.

My Dearest Y/N,

Ever since you did arrive in this paddock, I have admired you from afar. Your beauty and spirit doth light up the Formula 1 world. Being in your radiant presence doth make my heart soar ...

Max frowns. He sounds like Shakespeare on steroids. This is getting him nowhere. Crumpling up another attempt, he gets an idea. He needs advice from someone more eloquent. Pulling out his phone, he selects Daniel Ricciardo’s number.

“Maxie! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Daniel answers cheerily.

“I need your help. I’m trying to write a letter to Y/N telling her ...byou know, that I like her,” Max mumbles. “But I’m struggling with the words. You’re so smooth and charming — any advice?”

Daniel laughs loudly through the phone. “A love letter mate? That’s adorable!”

Max rolls his eyes. “Haha. Yes, it’s hilarious. Do you have any tips or not?”

“Hmm okay, don’t stress too much over the fancy wording. Keep it simple and heartfelt, you know? Just speak honestly about why you like her.”

Max nods. “Right, speak from the heart. I can do that.”

“Go get her champ! Let me know if you need any more romantic advice,” Daniel teases.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Max hangs up with a smile.

Taking a fresh piece of paper, he starts writing.

Dear Y/N,

I wanted to properly tell you how I feel about you. From the moment I first saw you in the paddock, I thought you were the most beautiful and amazing woman.

Your smile makes me weak. Being near you gives me butterflies in my stomach.

Spending time together at the party was really special for me. I wish I had told you then how I felt. But I get so nervous around you that the words don’t come out right. So I thought writing this might be easier.

I know we haven’t known each other long. But I would love the chance to get to know you more. Maybe we could have dinner sometime, if you feel the same way?

Let me know.

Yours,

Max

Max reads over the short letter and nods, satisfied. It’s simple and honest, just saying the thoughts he can never seem to speak out loud around you.

So, after carefully folding the stationary, Max slips out of the Red Bull motorhome in search of you.

Max finds you chatting with some other journalists near the media center. He hangs back shyly, waiting for you to be free.

You glance up and catch his eye, giving a smile and wave. Taking a deep breath, Max approaches.

“Hi, Y/N. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Of course!” You say, turning to him. The other reporters conveniently scatter, leaving the two of you alone.

“So uh, I wrote you this letter.” Max mutters, pulling the folded paper from his pocket. His palms are sweating and he rubs his neck nervously. “It’s just some thoughts I wanted to share with you.”

“Aww Max, you didn’t have to write me anything!” You beam at him sweetly.

Max shoves the letter toward you, willing himself to just give it over before he loses confidence. But as you reach out for it, anxiety grips him.

What if you reject him after reading it? Or worse, what if you show the soppy love letter to your coworkersto laugh about?

His pulse pounding, Max swiftly yanks the letter back. Before he can think twice, he starts hastily ripping it up into tiny shreds.

“Max!” You cry out in surprise. “What are you doing?”

“I, uh, just realized how weird it was to write you something so personal,” Max stammers, face flaming red.

He lets the shreds of paper fall from his fingers.

“Oh.” Your face falls in disappointment. “That’s too bad, I’m sure it was very thoughtful ...”

An awkward silence follows. Max curses internally, hating himself. Why had he chickened out at the last second? He scrambles for something to say.

“Yeah, it was too forward of me,” he rambles nervously. “I wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea about us. Not that there is an us! I mean, we’re colleagues.”

You frown slightly in confusion. “Colleagues? I thought we were becoming friends ...”

“Right, yes friends!” Max amends quickly. “Friends is good. Don’t want rumors or gossip spreading. Not that what I wrote was gossip worthy! It was boring really, nothing important.”

He forces out a laugh, cringing at his bumbling excuse. You just stare at him in bewilderment.

“O-kay then ... well, I need to get back to work. See you around, Max.” You give him a strange look before turning away slowly.

Max watches you walk off, letting out a long groan once you’re out of earshot.

He slaps a hand to his forehead. Could that have gone any worse? He’d absolutely butchered it and now you must think he’s a complete weirdo.

Dejected, Max trudges back to the motorhome. He replays the scene in his head, berating himself over and over. If only he had the guts to just give you that letter!

Instead he had to go and make a complete fool of himself. There’s no way you have any interest in him now after witnessing that trainwreck.

Sulking back to his driver’s room, Max finds his teammate in the hallways.

“What’s up with you? You look like you just lost the championship,” Checo remarks.

Max just opens his door and flops down onto the sofa with a dramatic sigh. “I really screwed things up with Y/N ...”

He recounts the whole awkward encounter to Checo, who tries and fails to hold back laughter.

“It’s not funny!” Max snaps, tossing a scrunched up sock at him.

“Sorry, hermano,” Checo says, composing himself. “But really, I doubt it was that bad. Just explain to Y/N what happened and try again.”

“No way. It’s hopeless now,” Max moans. “I can’t face her after that.” He grabs one of the shredded letter pieces off the table, smoothing it out to reveal a fragment of his confession.

Crumpling it back up, Max tosses it aside bitterly. He definitely lost his chance thanks to his own nerves and stupidity.

Max does everything he can to avoid you over the next days, too embarrassed to face you after the letter fiasco. For your own part, you seem equally uncertain how to act around him now.

At races you keep interactions strictly professional. The ease and friendship that was developing between you is gone.

Max hates that he ruined everything before it could even really begin.

It’s not until the Dutch Grand Prix weeks later that you finally confront him.

“We should talk,” you say, catching Max alone after practice one day. “Why have you been avoiding me since Silverstone?”

Max shuffles his feet, staring at the ground. “I just made things weird with that letter. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You step closer, tilting his chin up gently so he meets your eyes.

“I thought the idea behind it was really sweet. I was so disappointed when you just ripped it up. I care about you, so don’t push me away, okay?”

Heart pounding, Max manages a sheepish nod.

You lean in slowly and kiss his cheek, pretending not to notice how his skin turns rosy.

“I’m still waiting to see what you wrote for me one day,” you whisper with a smile before walking off, leaving Max stunned.

Touching his cheek, a grin spreads across Max’s face. Maybe he hadn’t ruined everything after all.

The book might know a thing or two.

A gentleman should present small tokens of affection: Offering a lady flowers, a lock of hair, or a sentimental keepsake is a cherished practice.

Max paces the floor of his Monaco apartment, phone in hand as he scrolls through a website about flower meanings and symbolism.

Max clicks on the different options, overwhelmed. Who knew flowers were so complicated? Red roses mean passion but are too strong for courting. Yellow roses signify friendship. White lilies convey purity and innocence.

Max frowns. None of these seem quite right.

Finally he comes across the perfect choice — peonies. According to the guide, pink peonies signal romance, prosperity and good fortune.

Isn’t that romantic? This will be the ideal flower to to show how much he cares for you.

Satisfied with his floral choice, Max orders an impressive bouquet of pink peonies to be delivered to you before the upcoming race.

As soon as you receive them, he anxiously waits for your reaction.

To his disappointment, no thank you comes. In fact, you don’t acknowledge the flowers at all.

When Max finally spots you in the paddock on Thursday, his smile fades at your red-rimmed eyes and congested voice.

“Are you okay? You don’t look well,” Max frowns.

You give a stuffy laugh. “Thanks, just what every girl wants to hear.” Dabbing at your runny nose with a tissue, you sigh. “Sorry, I’m a mess today. Turns out I’m quite allergic to peonies. Those lovely flowers you sent put me out of commission the past two days.”

Max’s eyes widen in alarm. “Wait, you’re allergic to peonies? I had no idea, I’m so sorry!”

He mentally kicks himself. Some romantic gesture this was, practically making you ill. “I was just trying to do something nice ...” he says guiltily.

But you wave off his concern with a smile, touched that he went to such effort. “It’s really sweet of you, truly. They were beautiful. My immune system just seems to have other plans.”

Max shoves his hands in his pockets. “Let me make it up to you. What if I cook you dinner next week instead of flowers?”

Your cheeks flush slightly. “I would really like that.”

***

The following Tuesday, Max puts his meager cooking skills to use whipping up pasta. Pretty soon he has an aromatic tomato sauce simmering away while he slices bread for garlic toast.

When you arrive, bottle of wine in hand, Max greets you wearing a “World’s Okayest Chef” apron. Laughter and light banter flow easily between you two all evening. The domesticity of sharing a meal together feels wonderfully natural. Lingering glances and touches over the table make it clear this is now a proper date.

After dessert, you help Max tidy up the kitchen. Playfully flicking soap suds at each other soon turns into a full-on bubble fight. Laughing and stumbling into each other, Max ends up gently pinning you against the counter.

Your giggles trail off, smiles fading into something warmer. Slowly Max leans in, lips meeting yours in a soft kiss.

When you eventually pull apart, he rests his forehead against yours contentedly. No flowers or grand gestures needed.

Just this — being together.

***

Before free practice of the following race, Max seeks you out, fidgeting nervously with the small pair of scissors in his hands.

“I … I wanted to give you something special. A token of my affection for you.”

Before you can react, Max takes a lock of his light brown hair and starts snipping right there in front of you. Your eyes widen in surprise as the severed strands fall into his palm.

“It’s uh, a lock of my hair. For you to keep,” he explains, holding it out to you sheepishly.

You have to stifle a laugh at how earnest he looks. “Wow Max, that’s really thoughtful but you didn’t have to cut your hair for me!”

Max’s cheeks flush pink. “No, I want you to have it! To show, you know, that I’m devoted to you and all that ...” His voice trails off at your amused expression.

Maybe this romantic gesture is a bit stranger than he realized. But you take the lock of hair from him with a gracious smile.

“Well, I’ll always treasure a piece of you.”

His grin brightens. Then he remembers the other part of his gift. “Oh wait, there’s more!”

He pulls a small oval locket from his pocket and clicks it open to reveal an empty compartment.

“I thought you could keep the hair in this locket, close to your heart,” he explains earnestly. “That way you will always have a part of me with you.”

Your eyes soften, touched by the sentiment if not the unconventional nature of his gift. But seeing how much thought Max put into it makes you melt and you give him a quick kiss.

“It’s perfect, thank you. Here, would you put the hair inside for me?”

Carefully, Max places the strands into the golden locket and fastens it around your neck, face lit up.

“So you really like it then?”

You nod, gently clasping the locket in your hand. “I’ll cherish it always.”

A gentleman should bring a tasteful gift, such as a book of poetry or a hand-painted fan, as a gesture of appreciation for her hospitality when visiting a lady’s home.

Max double checks the address on his phone as he pulls up outside your London flat. He’s visiting for the first time today and wants to make a good impression.

Max looks down at your gift on the passenger seat — a squirming bengal kitten, licking up the treat Max had brought to calm her for the car ride.

You had completely fallen for his two rambunctious bengal cats when you met them at his apartment.

“They are just the cutest! I’ve always wanted a bengal,” you had cooed as Jimmy curled up contentedly in your lap while Sassy climbed across your shoulders.

So when Max saw that the ethical breeder he bought his cats from had this spirited little kitten available, he knew she would be the perfect gift for your first proper date at your home.

A living reminder of the night your relationship began.

Scooping up the wriggling furball, Max walks up and rings your buzzer.

You greet him at the door with a smile and quick kiss, then abruptly stop short at the sight of the kitten in his arms.

“Max, what is that?”

“It’s a bengal kitten!” He announces proudly, holding her up like he is reenacting The Lion King. “I got her for you, as a gift.”

He holds the mewling kitten out to you eagerly. You stare back, mouth agape.

“You got me a kitten? Max, that’s insane!” You exclaim. “Bengals cost thousands of euros, you can’t just show up with one. Oh my god, please tell me you didn’t seriously buy me a €3000 cat.”

Max’s smile falters, realizing suddenly how over-the-top the gift seems.

“I mean, I just wanted to do something really special for you,” he mumbles, face reddening.

The kitten lets out a pitiful meow. You bite your lip, conflicted. She really is adorable. And you know Max meant well with his lavish gesture. Sighing, you open your door wider.

“Okay, I guess I can’t turn away this cutie now. Come on in.”

Max’s face lights up in relief. “You’ll keep her then? That’s amazing!”

He carefully sets the energetic furball down and she immediately starts exploring. You have to laugh as she pounces and tumbles over her paws.

“She’s going to destroy all my stuff,” you stare resignedly as she claws her way up your upholstered couch, claws snagging the fabric.

Max waves off your concern. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay for anything she ruins. And I’ll make sure she can come to races too, so you’re never apart.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You think they’re going to let a kitten into the paddock?”

“Lewis brings Roscoe so they have to allow cats too or it’s not fair! Don’t worry, I will make it happen,” Max declares confidently.

Despite yourself, you smile at his determination. Gazing down at the kitten now nibbling your toe, your reservations melt away.

She really has stolen your heart already.

“Well, I guess we’re in this together now, huh little one?” You murmur. “Thank you. I think she’s the perfect gift.”

His whole face lights up at those words. Impulsively, you stand on tiptoe to kiss him.

“I think I’ll name her Emiliana,” you suggest softly. “Since she’s my special gift from Max Emilian Verstappen.”

Max grins. “I love that idea.”

Maybe Max is out of touch with normal gift-giving. But looking into his smiling eyes, you know everything he does comes from a place of love. And you wouldn’t change his thoughtfulness for anything.

Even if it means welcoming a hyperactive €3000 kitten into your life.

A gentleman should exercise prudence and restraint in the event that his family honor is insulted. Engaging in a duel must be the last resort, pursued only when all other means of resolving the matter have been exhausted.

“Who’s ready for her first race?” You coo to Emiliana, clipping a leash on to her harness. The energetic bengal kitten twirls in excited circles hearing the jingle of her collar.

Max chuckles, scooping Emiliana up. “I know you’ll love exploring the garage!” Kissing her furry head, he nestles her safely in his jacket pocket for the walk over.

Arriving at the bustling paddock, Max gently puts Emiliana down to allow her to explore, the kitten’s wide eyes reflect the flash of cameras and bright team colors swirling around. With Max’s hand securely in yours, you both smile proudly showing her off to the other drivers and staff.

Most are delighted, stopping to fawn over the curious feline. But as you pass by the Alpine motorhome, she ends up scampering across the asphalt and almost tripping Esteban Ocon in the process.

“Ugh, control your overgrown rat!” He grumbles loudly.

Max freezes, blood boiling at the insult toward Emiliana. Clenching his fists, he spins to confront Esteban. But you grab his arm firmly.

“Max, stop. He’s not worth it,” you murmur. After a tense moment, Max reluctantly relaxes his stance, not wanting to cause a scene.

You steer him away, stroking Emiliana comfortingly. “Don’t listen to the mean man, sweetie. You are perfect.”

But Max continues seething silently.

The remainder of the weekend passes uneventfully and you assume Max has let go of the unpleasant encounter. But once the race starts, you grow anxious seeing the two drivers battling unusually close together.

Sure enough, despite leading comfortably, Max slows his car to allow Esteban to catch up. Your heart drops as Max then swerves aggressively into Esteban’s side, sending him spinning off in a blaze of shredded carbon fiber. Meanwhile, Max continues on unfazed to take the chequered flag.

You’re fuming when Max finally makes his way back to the garage. Seeing your crossed arms and fiery glare, his triumphant smile fades.

“I know what you’re going to say ...” he starts guiltily.

“That you promised not to seek revenge and then deliberately crashed Esteban?” You snap.

Max winces. “Seeing him just brought back all that anger ...”

“So you decided to punt him at 200 mph?” You throw your hands up in exasperation.

“I was not thinking clearly,” Max scuffs his shoe. “My temper took over again.”

Your anger melts slightly seeing Max’s remorse. With a sigh, you pull him into a tight hug. “Do you have any idea how badly you both could’ve been hurt by pulling a stunt like that?”

Max looks down, properly chastised. “You’re right, it was really dangerous what I did.”

“Not to mention nearly ruining your own race!”

“I didn’t care about losing position,” Max admits. “I have already secured the championship. Defending Emiliana’s honor was more important in the moment.”

You shake your head. “Our kitten’s honor is not worth you risking your life! Please think these things through before acting so rashly.”

“You’re right, I wasn’t thinking straight,” Max says sincerely. “I promise to be more responsible going forward. No more putting myself or anyone else in danger over petty spats.”

He hugs you close again. “Thank you for keeping me rational and safe.”

You smile up at him with a soft laugh, letting some of your tension melt away. "Someone has to.”

A gentleman should keep a strict code of chivalry: Offer your seat to a lady, hold doors, and protect her from harm, both physical and emotional.

The Singapore Grand Prix is always a grueling one thanks to the heat and humidity. But this weekend, Mother Nature seems intent on making it even tougher.

Dark ominous clouds have been building all afternoon before finally bursting open right as final practice ends. Fat raindrops pelt down rapidly, sending the paddock scrambling for cover.

Safely under the shelter of the Red Bull garage, Max keeps an eye out for you. He knows you’re stuck in the media pen finishing interviews along with the other reporters.

Sure enough, he spots your ponytail across the pen, soaked through as you attempt to shield your equipment from the downpour.

Without thinking, Max hands off his mic and races out into the rain toward you. Holding his team jacket over your head, he guides you under the shelter of a nearby awning.

“Oh my gosh, Max! You’re soaked!” You exclaim, taking in his drenched state.

But Max just shrugs it off. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Couldn’t let you get caught out there though.”

He rubs your arms briskly, trying to warm you up. Seeing you shivering in your thin blouse — now transparent from the rain — Max feels a pang of protectiveness.

“Here, let me get you something dry ...” He sprints off, returning minutes later with a Red Bull hoodie and umbrella from his driver’s room.

Bundling you up in the warm dry clothes, Max finally relaxes. “Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. But I wasn’t about to leave you stranded in that!”

You smile up at him, sincerely touched. “My hero! Thank you, superstar.”

Leaning up on your tiptoes, you give him a soft kiss. Max thinks that heart swells three sizes, thrilled that he was able to protect you.

As the weekend goes on, Max keeps finding little ways to display chivalry. Opening doors, giving you his seat, shielding you with umbrellas whenever the rain returns.

You assure him that the fussing is unnecessary but Max insists. He wants you to feel cared for and safe at all times.

Unfortunately, not everyone in the paddock shares that sentiment.

You’re rushing to grab some coffee before the race when you overhear a muttered conversation by a group of reporters that are huddled together.

“There she is — Verstappen’s girl ...”

“Ugh, it’s so obvious she only got the job with Sky Sports because they’re dating.”

“Sleeping her way to the top if you ask me. No way she’d be here otherwise ...”

Their cruel laughter cuts through you sharply. Blinking back sudden tears, you hurry away before they can notice you.

Of course you’ve dealt with doubters questioning your skill and merits before. It’s an occupational hazard as a woman in motorsport.

But having your relationship with Max twisted in such a way stings deeply.

Arriving at the grid, you paste on a smile and try not to let the nasty remarks ruin your day. You have always had to work twice as hard to prove yourself and you were not going to give up now.

But Max notices that something is off immediately. And, when you keep avoid his concerned gaze, he gently presses for answers.

“What’s wrong, liefde? And don’t say nothing,” he adds, seeing you open your mouth to brush it off.

You sigh, reluctantly telling him about the reporters’ hurtful comments. Instantly Max’s jaw tightens, anger flashing in his eyes.

“Who said that? Point them out to me.”

You hesitate, not wanting to cause a scene. But Max takes your hand firmly.

“I won’t let them get away with questioning your integrity like that. It’s unacceptable.”

So you subtly point out the gossiping reporters huddled nearby. Max’s gaze darkens. Turning on his heel, he marches straight for the media center.

By the time you catch up, he’s already deep in a terse conversation with Formula 1’s head of communications.

You watch in astonishment as the offenders’ media access is promptly revoked despite their loud protests. But Max stands firm, insisting this is non-negotiable if he is expected to keep participating in his media duties.

When he finally returns to you, his anger has melted away into concern. “I’m so sorry you had to hear their garbage. Don’t ever listen to it, okay? You are brilliant at what you do.”

Your eyes well up again but this time from gratitude. Even during the pre-race chaos, Max made defending you his top priority.

“Thank you,” you whisper, hugging him tightly. “My knight in shining racing gear.”

Max just holds you close, wishing he could shield you from all harm. Because your happiness and comfort are paramount to him. And Max will gladly take on any dragon — or unscrupulous reporter — that dares to threaten that.

With Max by your side, ready to come to your aid in rain or shine, you know everything will be okay.

A gentleman should always be well-dressed in the latest fashions and ensure that his cravat is tied to perfection.

Max frowns down at the open suitcase on his bed, clothes strewn everywhere. He’s digging through the wardrobe he packed trying to find something stylish to wear for the United States Grand Prix.

The problem is, Max has no idea what the latest fashions even are. Jeans and a team-branded shirt are his staples both on and off the track. But he needs to make more effort for you.

Sifting through his options unsuccessfully, Max sighs. There’s nothing here that screams high fashion. He would have to do the unthinkable and ask advice from someone … like Lewis Hamilton.

Max cringes at the thought of approaching his rival for fashion help. But Lewis is always complemented for his outfits so he is clearly an expert on the subject.

Swallowing his pride, Max fires off a text before he can overthink it.

To his surprise, Lewis responds enthusiastically with suggestions and styling tips. Their competitive rivalry is momentarily forgotten as the veteran driver dedicates all day to helping Max looking sharp.

Arriving at the paddock on Thursday morning, Max scrutinizes his reflection anxiously while scanning his pass. He’s wearing slim-fitting distressed jeans with a silky patterned shirt that Lewis instructed was to be left half-unbuttoned.

Definitely way flashier than his normal attire but Lewis assured him it was very on-trend. So Max takes a deep breath and heads out to find you.

Your eyes widen in surprise taking in his dramatic style overhaul. “Whoa, look at you!”

Max preens a bit, relieved that you don’t seem to be put off by his bold fashion choice.

“I figured it was time to elevate my fashion game,” he spins cheekily to show off the full look.

You have to stifle a laugh at seeing straight-laced Max suddenly dressing like a runway model after fans used to be shocked to see him in anything other than a white shirt.

It’s certainly different but cute that he’s putting in so much effort for your relationship.

As the weekend continues, so does Max’s parade of high fashion outfits. He turns up looking like he stepped off a catwalk in trendy printed shirts, embroidered jackets, and even sequined trousers.

By Sunday, the dramatic style transformation has paddock tongues wagging. Max appears entirely oblivious to the gossip though, just happy that his attempts to impress you seem to be working.

But watching him awkwardly fidget with the billowing oversized silk sleeves of today’s shirt as he tries to focus on preparing for the race, you realize that this isn’t your Max. Not really.

Catching his eye, you gesture for him to join you out of earshot and away from the view of cameras. Gently taking his hands, you meet his gaze.

“Be honest with me, what’s going on with the makeover? This isn’t like you at all.”

He ducks his head with a sheepish smile. “I just wanted to dress nicely for you this weekend. Like a proper gentleman.”

You lift his chin until he’s looking at you again. “You don’t have to try and be someone else for me. I like you for you — jeans, team kit, and all.”

Max’s shoulders relax in relief. “Yeah?”

“Of course! Please don’t feel like you ever have to change.” You lean up to kiss him softly. “Now let’s get you into some racing gear, champ.”

A gentleman should know that prolonged eye contact is a powerful tool for conveying one’s intentions.

“So Max, I have to ask about the incident with Carlos last race. Do you think your aggression was over the line?”

You fixes Max with an inquisitive gaze, microphone poised as you wait for his response. But instead of answering, he just stares back intensely without blinking.

After a long awkward pause, you shift in your seat. “Uh, Max? Did you hear my question?”

“Hmm? Oh right, yeah. It was just racing, these things happen,” he says vaguely, eyes never leaving yours.

You move on to the next question, puzzled by his distracted behavior. Throughout the interview, Max continues gazing at you unwaveringly.

It’s a bit unsettling to have him stare so fixedly without looking away.

Finally you wrap up the stilted conversation, feeling relieved to escape his laser focus. What was up with that?

Over the weekend, you catch Max staring silently at you on numerous occasions — in hospitality, on the grid, across the garage. Without blinking or looking away, he’ll fix you with that powerful gaze until you flush and look away first.

By Sunday you’ve gotten used to the drawn out m moments of extended eye contact.

But during the post-race press conference, Max cranks it up a notch. As you ask Charles a question about the race, you feel Max’s eyes boring into the side of your face. Glancing over, you nearly fumble your recorder.

He’s just ... staring. Blatantly. Right at you as you’re trying to have a professional conversation.

The other drivers keep sneaking amused looks between you two and trying to hide their snickers.

You finally wrap up hurriedly, flustered by Max’s unrelenting eye contact. As the rest of the press file out, you hang back.

“So the whole staring thing ... we’re really doing that huh?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

Max has the grace to look sheepish. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to throw you off! I’ve just been trying to connect with you even more.”

You have to stifle a laugh imagining him sternly holding his own gaze in a mirror for practice. “I could tell! But maybe dial it down a little bit during interviews?”

Rubbing his neck, Max chuckles. “Yeah good call.”

He’s quiet for a moment before meeting your eyes again, this time softer. “I do like the way it makes me focus just on you though. Like the rest of the world fades away.”

“Yeah,” you duck your head, “I like that part too.”

Max’s eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. Reaching out, he gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

When Max leans in, eyes fluttering closed, you let yourself get lost in the moment. The outside world disappears and all that’s left is his lips on yours, saying more than words ever could.

A gentleman should never speak of his own accomplishments or wealth in a boastful manner, instead let your actions and character speak for themselves.

“Liefde, have you seen my phone charger?” Max calls from the living room of his apartment. “Nevermind, found it!”

He grabs the charger off of the coffee table, narrowly avoiding knocking over the World Drivers’ Championship trophy displayed prominently in the center.

You stifle an amused smile as you enter. Ever since you jokingly teased Max about being humble, he has made his accomplishments strangely hard to ignore.

Like the fact that his trophy room door now mysteriously stays wide open whenever you’re over. Or how he keeps offering for you to take Air Max whenever you need to travel instead of flying commercial. It’s his unique way of bragging without actually saying a word.

Joining him on the sofa, you have to shoo away one of the cats that is trying to swat the trophy off the table. Max just grins.

“Sassy really loves that thing! Although I guess I can’t blame her, it is very shiny.”

You laugh, curling into his side. “It certainly seems to belong front and center lately. Along with your three championship-winning helmets on the table in the foyer.”

Max attempts an innocent look that doesn’t quite stick. “What? They’re nice decorative pieces!”

“Mmhmm,” you hum skeptically. Glancing around, you note magazine covers bearing his face displayed on the walls along with a framed race-worn suit hanging randomly next to the kitchen.

Meeting his eyes, you give him a knowing look. Max holds your gaze for a moment before cracking.

“Okay fine, I may have highlighted some ... accomplishments since your little humble comment,” he admits with a sheepish grin.

You have to laugh. “Max, you know I was just teasing you! I would never want you to downplay your achievements.”

Twisting to face him, you take his hands in yours. “You’ve worked so hard for everything you have. Please don’t feel like you can’t be proud about it.”

Max’s expression softens. “I know and I am really proud of my racing success.” Glancing around the trophy-filled apartment, he chuckles. “Maybe a bit too loudly recently.”

You lean in to kiss him tenderly. “I love you and I’m so proud of you. But it’s this,” you tap his chest on top of his heart, “This is what made me fall for you, not the jet or the trophies.”

“Yeah?” Max asks, eyes crinkling happily.

You snuggle into his shoulder. “Of course. You’ll always just be my Max.”

But then the gifts start arriving. An Hermes Birkin bag here … some Van Cleef jewelry there. Presented nonchalantly but you know that their extravagance is no accident.

Finally, you have to say something when a couture Chanel gown appears in your hotel room one day.

“What’s going on with all these gifts all of a sudden?” You ask gently.

“Nothing! I just want to treat my amazing girlfriend the way she deserves to be treated.”

You raise an eyebrow and look … and look … and look … until Max cracks. “Okay fine, I may have been trying to show off a bit,” he admits. “But it’s hard not to when I want to give you the world!”

Your expression softens. Taking his hands, you wait until he meets your eyes.

“You could give me plastic rings and clothing from the thrift store and I would be just as happy. Your love means everything to me, not material things.”

“Really?”

You nod and climb into his lap to connect your lips in a slow kiss. Pulling back, you add teasingly, “But I am keeping the dress.”

He laughs, all tension vanishing. “Of course, it will look incredible on you. Like everything does.”

A gentleman should demonstrate a willingness to adapt to a lady’s interests and preferences, cultivating shared hobbies and passions.

“Here we are!” You announce, gesturing at the entrance of the padel club. “I know you’ll love this. It combines the best parts of tennis, squash, and racquetball.”

Taking Max’s hand, you lead him inside eagerly. You’ve been trying to get him to try padel, your favorite hobby, for ages. Finally convincing him to play while visiting him in Monaco, you do a quick rundown of the rules in the locker room.

“So basically we score just like in tennis but the walls and mesh are also in play. You can use them to bounce shots off of strategically,” you explain, miming hitting the ball off the glass wall.

Max nods along, game face on. He’s determined to share your passion for this sport.

“Got it. Use the walls, beat the opponents, win the match,” he summarizes confidently.

You laugh. “Pretty much! Now let’s go kick some butt out there.”

Gripping your paddles, you head onto the slick court. Max gravitates right to the mesh wall, intrigued by the unique setup.

You have to hide your grin — he’s like a kid exploring and testing shots out eagerly. His competitive nature means that he is completely engrossed within minutes.

And Max certainly has a knack for padel. His fast reflexes and coordination transfer over as he adapts his technique. Soon you’re both moving seamlessly around each other, dominating the points against a random couple Max had convinced to play against the two of you.

Hours later, sweaty but exhilarated, Max slings an arm around you grinning.

“That was epic! This is such an awesome game, I can’t wait to play more.” His excitement makes your heart swell. Nothing better than sharing your interests with someone special.

Over the next weeks, you find any excuse to play padel together. On lazy mornings, Max coaxes you out of bed. During race weeks, you even manage to squeeze in a few matches after media day.

Soon Max transforms into a padel fanatic, always scouting new courts and competition. His dedication to mastering every shot warms your heart. And the silly trash talk and celebrations make every match so much fun.

It was no surprise when Max decided to organize a players tournament between races. Getting the other drivers involved had your makeshift paddock league battling it out.

“Here for the padel party!” Daniel crows, showing up in head-to-toe tennis gear.

Charles, Carlos, Lando, and Pierre are there too, warming up their swings. You help Max demonstrate the rules, the other guys teasing him good-naturedly about his new obsession.

Once play begins though, the intensity heats up quickly. Max’s laser focus kicks in as he charges around you protectively, looking to crush anyone who dares hit near you. Luckily you hold your own plenty well too against the drivers.

When the final point is called in your favor, Max tackles you in an exuberant hug, the guys applauding around you. Grinning and flushed with exertion, you all head inside to refuel and celebrate a fun day of sport and competition.

One padel date turned into a shared passion that bonded you both with the other drivers too. And seeing your smile reflecting Max’s own euphoric one, you know this is only the start of many joyful tournaments and casual games together.

Maybe Max went a bit over-the-top in his newfound padel fever. But his willingness to dive headfirst into your interests fills you with more love than you ever thought possible.

Having someone care enough to enter your world so fully and share the things that light you up — that’s the most meaningful gesture of all.

A gentleman should learn to play a musical instrument or be a connoisseur of music, as serenading a lady can be a charming expression of affection.

Max turns the acoustic guitar over in his hands, plucking experimentally at the strings.

With your birthday coming up, serenading you seems like the perfect romantic gesture. Now he just has to actually learn how to play this thing. It seems simple enough — how hard can the guitar really be?

Max starts pressing on the strings randomly, the resulting discordant notes making him wince.

Okay, this might take some work.

Pulling up a beginner tutorial on his phone, he starts practicing the basic chords. But his fingers fumble clumsily, refusing to contort into the proper shapes. The more he tries, the worse the mangled sounds get.

Frustrated after the thirty minute lesson yields little improvement, Max sighs. “How am I supposed to woo my girlfriend with music if I can’t even play a damn C chord?”

Time for a professional to step in. Max books lessons with a private guitar instructor, determined to nail this down in time for your birthday surprise.

At the first lesson, the instructor eyes Max’s hands critically. “Right, let’s start by getting your fingers conditioned ...”

He takes Max through various stretching and dexterity exercises to limber up. Max nods along dutifully until the instructor pulls out a contraption with rubber bands and metal prongs.

“What the hell is that thing?” Max asks warily.

“A finger strengthener — we need to work on your independence and stamina,” he explains matter-of-factly, fitting the device over Max’s hand.

Max grimaces as the rubber bands strain against his fingers. The instructor just nods approvingly. “Perfect, twenty minutes per day with that.”

By the end of the torturous lesson, the only progress Max has made is identifying the parts of the guitar. He’s nowhere close to actually playing.

Max leaves discouraged but even more motivated to conquer the instrument somehow before your birthday. He continues meeting with the instructor multiple times a week, practicing rigorously outside of lessons too.

You notice his new habit of constantly stretching his fingers but Max plays it off casually not wanting to spoil the surprise.

The week before your birthday, Max has made marginal improvements but is still far from properly playing full songs. Desperate, he invites the instructor over for one final intensive lesson.

After two grueling hours of relentless drills, the instructor throws his hands up. “I’ve never had a student struggle this much with guitar basics. Maybe we should consider something easier, like the triangle or a recorder ...”

“No!” Max interrupts forcefully. “The guitar is a classic romantic instrument. I just need more practice before her party tomorrow.”

The instructor sighs. “If you say so. Just keep working on your fretting transitions and we’ll hope for the best.”

After he leaves, Max stays up late into the night strumming determinedly. By your birthday, his fingers are sore and calloused within an inch of their lives. But he can semi-confidently stumble through a love song and that’s enough for tonight.

When the moment arrives, he takes a deep breath and begins gently playing the intro to “Thinking Out Loud,” ready to serenade you. Max makes it halfway through before the chords descend into choppy noise.

You still applaud enthusiastically after, smiling ear to ear. “That was amazing, my love! Thank you so much.”

Max ducks his head bashfully. “It still needs some work. But I’m glad you liked it.”

Laughing, you take his tortured hands and kiss each fingertip. “I loved it because it came from you. That’s all that matters to me.”

Warmth blooms in Max’s chest. No matter how imperfect, you appreciated his efforts because of how much heart he put into it just for you.

In the end, no amount of lessons could transform Max into a virtuoso overnight. But he did become accomplished in one universal language — love.

And at the end of the day, that means everything.

A gentleman should recognize and appreciate a lady’s accomplishments, whether in the arts, charity work, or society.

“So Max, what are your thoughts on taking pole position here in Brazil?” The reporter asks.

Max grins into the mic. “Yeah, feels great to put it on pole here. The team has done an amazing job dialing in the car.”

He pauses and then adds, “Of course my girlfriend Y/N also put in a stellar qualifying effort yesterday covering the action for Sky Sports. Her commentary is always so eloquent and insightful.”

The reporter smiles amused as Max continues raving about your on-air skills for several minutes before remembering to refocus him on the results of the actual qualifying seasion.

This has become a familiar trend lately in Max’s interviews. No matter the question, he manages to redirect the conversation to highlight your various talents.

“... our pace was really strong today, I think we will be able to keep the top step tomorrow. Oh, speaking of strong pace, Y/N just ran a personal best 5k time last week during training ...”

In team debriefs, the same thing happens. Engineer queries about race strategy are derailed into praise about your presenting skills. PR reps trying to discuss Max’s social media posts somehow end up hearing about your recent venture into pottery making instead.

Even in casual conversations, you come up constantly.

“Morning, Max! How are you today?” His trainer asks while spotting a weight lifting session.

“Doing great! Y/N is also doing great, she’s learning Dutch and picking it up so quickly. Have I mentioned how talented she is with languages?”

By now the whole paddock is highly familiar with your many accomplishments, since Max seizes every possible opportunity to spotlight them.

You find it rather endearing, if a bit silly at times. Like when Max commandeered an entire interview just to detail the charities that you volunteer with.

“You know I’m capable of mentioning my own accomplishments if they come up naturally, right?” You tease him later.

Max looks sheepish. “I know, I just like bragging about you! I’m really proud of everything you do.”

You soften, giving him a quick kiss. “That’s really sweet. But maybe tone down the constant spotlight a little?” You suggest gently.

“Noted,” Max chuckles.

He makes an effort after that to highlight your achievements only when truly relevant. Because while he could praise you all day, Max also respects your wishes.

And he realizes you don’t need him to validate your worth — your talents speak for themselves. But he still can’t resist sharing little proud snippets whenever your accomplishments come up organically.

Over time you appreciate Max’s admiration and support more and more. Having someone so genuinely invested in all aspects of your life is incredibly touching.

Maybe he goes a bit overboard in his praising sometimes. But knowing that Max is always your biggest cheerleader, when it comes to racing coverage or otherwise, means everything.

A gentleman should seek the permission of the lady’s father or guardian before proposing, demonstrating respect for her family and social conventions. Once granted, he should choose an intimate setting for the proposal, away from the public eye. He must then express his intentions with sincerity, dropping to one knee and presenting a ring as a symbol of his commitment.

Max takes a deep breath, fidgeting with the small velvet box in his pocket. Today’s the day — he’s going to ask your father for permission to marry you.

You’ve reassured Max time and time again that your dad loves him but that does nothing to settle his nerves as he knocks on the front door of your childhood home.

When your father welcomes Max inside warmly, he relaxes slightly. Clearing his throat, Max launches into the speech he prepared.

“Sir, I’ve come today because I want to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage. We have been together for years now and I want to spend the rest of my life with her, completely committed to her happiness. She is the most amazing person I’ve ever known.”

Max pauses, blushing. “Sorry, I had this whole thing planned out better. I guess what I’m asking is — may I have your blessing to propose to Y/N?”

Your dad grins, clapping Max on the shoulder. “You know you didn’t have to be so formal about this. I already see you as part of the family.”

Max smiles bashfully. “I just wanted to show my respect for you and Y/N. Your blessing would mean a lot to me.”

“You have it absolutely. I couldn’t imagine anyone better for her than you.” He pulls Max into a hug. “Welcome to the family, son.”

Max leaves on cloud nine, thrilled to have this traditional step done right. Now on to planning the perfect proposal location away from prying eyes ...

After scouring options, Max selects a peaceful mountaintop in the Swiss Alps. Complete with luxury chalet just for the two of you — intimate but romantic.

Max painstakingly decorates it with flowers, candles, and photos of your relationship throughout the years. For the ring, he chooses two large natural diamonds in an unique asymmetrical setting, symbolic of two imperfect halves making a flawless whole.

Now fully prepared, Max just has to wait for your upcoming vacation to pop the question. He spends the days leading up to it buzzing with nervous excitement.

The helicopter ride to the mountain is pure torture for him. What if you say no? What if he fumbles the proposal speech? Endless doubts race through Max’s mind.

But as soon as he sees your delighted smile taking in the warmly lit cabin, his anxiety melts away. This evening is about letting his heart speak.

Through a private chef-cooked dinner, your laughter echoes in the chalet just like it always sounds. Full of joy and life and love.

Max knows that he’s ready.

Taking your hand gently, he leads you outside onto the moonlit balcony. Time to finally ask you to be his forever.

Max clears his throat, meeting your eyes. “Y/N, from the moment I met you, my world changed. Your smile and your light fill my days with meaning. You make me a better man.”

He slowly kneels, pulling out the ring box with trembling fingers. “I want to laugh with you, cry with you, share every high and low for the rest of our lives. Will you make me the luckiest man in the universe by becoming my wife?”

You clasp a hand over your mouth, eyes glimmering with tears. You only manage to get out a watery “Yes!” before also dropping to your knees in front of him.

Grinning ear to ear, Max slides the ring onto your finger with a kiss. “I promise to always love and cherish you.”

“And I promise the same to you, today and always.”

You throw your arms around him, both giddy with joy under the stars.

The customs that got you to this moment may have been old-fashioned but your love is timeless.

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yaut-jaknowit · 1 year

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Pls. Breeding fic, size difference, and old man yautja. Go wild.

Mating Season

Pairing: Uihoy (Male Yautja) x AFAB reader

Warnings: biting and clawing, blood, pain kink, little prep for you, primal play (sort of), HEAVY BREEDING KINK, knotting, lots and lots of cum, unrealistic idea of how sex works but you know – aliens, no aftercare, no soft Uihoy, very rough sex, very rough Uihoy, on the floor sex.

Word Count: 1897

Summary: Every year, it happens almost like clock work. Mating season. Some dread it while others enjoy it. Uihoy has mixed feels but can't help to fall victim to it. Especially with on of his mates on board and they say yes.

Author Note: I hope it was okay to use Uihoy. He's an old man Yautja. I sure tried to go wild with him. This was the perfect excuse to show the other side of Uihoy too. Ehehe.

P.s. I'm trying to write my stories a little bit shorter if possible. I hate not getting through requests as quickly as I want. Though almost 2000 words is a good amount.

Masterlist

Ao3

Part 2 (Yes, I finally did a part 2)

Thick arms wrapped around your torso and pulled you from the ground. You gasped and squirmed for only a second. Until a husky growl sounded next to your ear and caused the skin to prickle into goosebumps. Claws dug into your skin, sharp could easily tear through flesh. You heard a deep breath taken in before it fanned over your shoulder.

The body that held you was beyond blazing hot and tense. Each muscle strung tight like a bow. Beads of moisture rolling down purple scales. A hand twitching close to your waist. A long, spilt tongue licking at your neck and curled over the shell of your ear. “Do consent?” he growled into your ear and held steady.

Nothing would be done to you until the words ‘yes’ left your lips. Neither of your Yautjas would touch you without permission. Ever.

And you wouldn’t leave alone during the mating season.

“Yes.”

In his hungry, desperate state, Uihoy pinned you right there, in the middle of the cockpit. You put up a little fight, as if you were a female Yautja but Uihoy was quick to pinch your nape between deadly fangs. This had you stilling and relaxing underneath his hold. He kept that same position though as he tore your clothing from your body without a care in the world. You gave a little protest yet did nothing else.

Hands, coarse with time roamed over fragile skin. One was used to tug yours apart from one another, forcing you to exposed yourself to him. That same limb swiped through your folds to stop at your clit. A thumb was placed on top of it. Your hips immediately swirling to gain any sort of release with the predator pinning you down.

A dangerous growl rumbled through his chest and vibrated against your skin. The teeth that were on the verge of drawing blood tightened. You groaned but didn’t stop. Uihoy forced himself to bite harder. Blood pooled around the fangs in your skin before dribbling down to the warm floor below. The Yautja snarled again before ripping ever article of clothing that blocked him from that hot cunt waiting for him.

His blazing cock slapped against your labia once freed. You jumped, thigh muscles rippling as they clenched. A curse already falling from your lips. Your dull nails clawed at the metal floors with no luck of purchase. Uihoy seesawed his hips and rubbed his thick, heavy cock between your legs. The friction on your clit had you bowing your head. Accidently, you were able to see his actions as he pulled back fully.

Only the tip throbbed against your moist entrance. You bit harshly at your lips and sucked in a deep breath that filled your lungs. This wasn’t your first rodeo with him while he was in this state. He wasn’t his caring, loving, needy self. This was a Yautja in need of a cunt to breed and soak his cock.

Your thighs trembling as the Yautja shifted on his knees. The hold on your shoulder was released. Uihoy licked up a stripe from between your shoulder blades to the base of your neck. From there, he dragged his tongue to the crook of your neck. Iron filling his tastebuds.

The pointed head of his cock speared through your labia with a brutal thrust. Your head was thrown back and knocked against his broad shoulders. Uihoy pulled back out, only to push the rest of himself in on the second thrust. A pathetic cry scratched at your throat. Pain was apparent with little preparation for his size. That didn’t stop you from spreading your legs further apart to get more of him inside of you.

With his hips meeting the back of your thighs, it felt like he had forced the head of his penis into your womb, ready to seed you. Uihoy pulled out without any hesitation just to shove back into you.

Immediately, you began to pant as if you had crossed a desert running. Whimpers and whines filled the air besides the sounds of painfully slapping skin. Words of blabber to say something in praise tried to tumble from your loose lips. “Uie-Uie. Fu-ah, mmm. Go-od. Really good.” Neither of you could truly understand what had been said. The Yautja far too gone to truly care what you were saying. His main focus was breeding you, filling you with his thick seed in your womb while sealing it away with his large knot. You would be round with his children.

Uihoy’s cock throbbed inside of you, causing you to cry out in a high pitch. He didn’t stop, not once slowing down for anything.

When more time passed, the sounds of your dripping cunt grew in volume. Now, he could easily slip in and out without any struggle. At this point, you were struggling to stay perched on your elbows below him. He forced a great amount of his weight on you, practically draping himself over you.

Sweat stuck to you like a second skin. Beads of it dripped down your face and fell to the floor. You clenched the best you could around Uihoy. In retaliation, he thrusted particularly hard. It officially knocked you off of your elbows and onto the cockpit floor.

Talons clawed down your sides, dragging over fragile skin and drawing blood. That was final nail in the coffin. Your head reared back and smack against Uihoy’s shoulder again. It exposed your whole throat to him. He took the open opportunity and latched his inner mouth to the crook of your shoulder. Pain sprung to life as your orgasm crashed over you. His name left your lips in a mewl as you trembled underneath him.

He didn’t stop, thighs slapping against yours. They left marks of red skin behind in their pounding wake. Uihoy forced you to go though a shattering orgasm without a break to even catch a shallow breath. What he did next though surprised you.

A massive hand found its way around your throat and dragged you up. The male had you balancing on your knees as he drilled into you. He kept that grasp there, nails slightly biting into your skin. Blood already falling down the length of your body from the bites he created from earlier.

Your eyes were threatening to roll into the back of your head almost permanently now. His thrusts grew harsher, his snarls grew deeper, and his bite became more painful. All that had you squirming and writhing in Uihoy’s hold.

His other hand grasped the back of your knee and tugged it flush with your chest. A new angle that tugged a pathetic cry from your lips.

One last hard thrust had you sobbing. Your hands clawed at the hand around your throat as he held you there. His hips stuttered against you, pulling at the swelling knot inside of you. A blazing heat filled you, your womb full of his seed. The head of his cock piercing your cervix to breed you, to seed you.

The full size of knot kept every drop of him inside of you, not wasting anything. Everything was given to you. But he had more to offer.

Uihoy panted ruggedly which allowed you to breath almost freely as well. Tears prickled the corner of your eyes before rolling down your cheeks. He snarled shoved you down back to the floor. Your chest pressing into the ground. A huge paw keeping you pinned between the shoulder blades, unable to get up.

Then, he pulled out the knot. You gasped harshly but could only lay there and let him have his way with you. Your hands scrambled for anything that could give you something to hold but found nothing. The floor too smooth. You felt a huge gush of his seed spurt out and pool on the floor. Heeds of it coated the sides of your thighs.

The Yautja wasn’t satisfied, one knot wasn’t enough, his mind supplied. His tip was lined up with your red, soaked labia before pushing full force into you again. The sheer strength of him had you sliding up the floor. He grasped the back of your neck and pulled you back to him. He sheathed himself back into you fully. The large ball of flesh at the base of his cock catching on your entrance. That was the least of his worries right now.

Already, your cunt was feeling sore and rubbed raw. An effect they could have on you during this time of the year. But you fucking loved it. Loved it when Uihoy lets go and just uses your body for his pleasure, uses you to fill his seed into.

One of your hands found its way to your clit, on the verge of another orgasm. Your shaking fingers swirled around your drenched bundle of nerves. Shocks of pleasure and lust racing up your spine to settle in the base of your skull. You keened and shook as the orgasm built more and more as he moved inside of you.

The thickness of his cock filled you full, pushing what cum that stuck to your walls back out and dribbling to the floor. He kept rubbing at your g-spot. That electrified your clit and pushed you against another orgasm. You clenched your teeth when he raked his claws down your back. More blood swelling to the surface.

You mewled as an orgasm rolled over you in overwhelming waves. Your walls pulsed around him the best they could so stretched out. As if trying to pull him in deeper and deeper, to keep him far inside of you. A curse rolled off your tongue, barely understandable. Your whole body trembled like an earthquake rolled through you. But, you weren’t able to move more than an inch with his weight upon your back.

Uihoy forced his half-deflated knot back into your drenched cunt. More of your juices poured out of you into the pile between your shaking legs. The ball of flesh swelled again and sealed him deep inside of you again. You arched to the best of your ability, tears falling down your face again.

With how much he’s pumped into you these two times, your belly had grown noticeably. He had filled your uterus with a lot but not enough in his opinion to breed you.

More. He gave more and more and more. Until his body was beyond exhausted. He seated his knot past your entrance one last time and collapsed on top of you. An elbow prevented all of his weight to sit upon your much smaller frame. You gasped at the sudden weight then grunted.

He purred thickly in the back of his throat and tiredly nuzzled into your neck. Sharp fangs scratching across your skin without care. You couldn’t even shutter, body far beyond exhausted and drained of energy. The best you could do was huff and blink slowly, eyes staring blankly at the dark wall in front of you.

A hand petted down your sweaty skin before settling on your hip. With the rest of his energy, Uihoy rolled on to his back and pulled you with him. His knot almost slipped out due how much slick was between your legs. He let an arm be thrown over your torso before promptly passing out. Not a second later, you followed suit.

#yautja smut #yautja x you #yautja #uihoy #alien vs predator #predator #yautja x reader #predator x reader #predator x human #predator x you #x reader #smut #predator smut #alien smut

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horrorartsworld · 23 days

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Fun fact moths actually have a matching season (Valentino trying to fuck a baby into his on and off gf even tho he legit can’t as a sinner) 🤭😍

-🎀

oh my nonnie…you should’ve been more careful giving someone like me this information 😭

because just imagine feral/in a rut!valentino blowing up your phone in the middle of the night with voicemails and a flood of texts talking about, “i miss you doll”, “daddies bored and he needs you at the studio sweet girl”, or even passive aggressive ones like, “this isn’t cute baby making me wait like this…get over here NOW.”

this man is PANICKING when you don’t text back right away. huffing and grumbling curses to himself wondering where you were or who you were fucking causing another spiral of texts to come your way.

he’s especially aggravated at the fact that you weren’t answering when he was feeling the way he was..sweat beading at his forehead, his breathing irregular, pants tighter than usual and he felt the overwhelming need to breed..

shit it was his mating season.

which you seemed to be completely oblivious to, thinking it was just the usual val trying to get you back with another round of makeup sex after the last argument you two had and you were considering to just put your phone on do not disturb when the last text came in reading, “i need you bad.”

hating the fluttering feeling it gave to you and how easy he had you wrapped around his finger that you were at the studio in a heartbeat knocking lightly in hopes he wouldn’t answer and that you could just go back home to your warm bed, but to your dismay you wouldn’t be going back there for awhile.

his chain dangling in your face as you whined tirelessly at the unrelenting pace he was going at. hips slapping against your own in a mating press all while your cunt clenched pathetically around his throbbing shaft.

“v-val..p-please slow down..” you mumble dazed at how quickly this all progressed from when you arrived.

“can’t slow down baby…not until i fuck a baby into you..”

trying again and again till he fucks you senseless. to the point he’ll take a week off of shooting to get it out of his system leaving you filled to the brim with his seed for days on end and though he can’t possibly be a father being the sinner he was it was the thought that counted. plus the good sex 🤷🏻‍♀️

#☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings #☆⋆｡𖦹 valentino #☆⋆｡𖦹anon’s #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin valentino smut #hazbin valentino x reader #hazbin valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #valentino smut #valentino

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sixx-sixx-sixx · 10 days

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LADY BRIDGERTON - Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader (smut)

Summary: Reader has been married to Anthony Bridgerton for too long, it feels, although it has only been a few years. In that short time, not only has he only touched her naked body once, but he comes home most nights smelling of sweat and another woman’s perfume. Lady Whistledown has caught wind of this, and the gossip sends Lady Bridgerton over the edge. Anthony takes the time to give his wife exactly what she’s asking for.

Warnings: smut; badly written smut lol; infidelity; arguments about infidelity; possibly out of character anthony; I’ve only watched season 1 of Bridgerton; breeding kink; unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it but this is a married couple); female reader/use of she/her pronouns; as always, proofread to the best of my ability

“Do you wish to make a fool of me?” Anthony leaned down to whisper in his young wife’s ear, a firm hand grabbing her elbow as he interrupted her conversation with a young man from Russia, or Hungary. He didn’t pay much mind to the boy so much as the woman who bore his last name, fully aware of the way she had been subtly flirting with many men that night. Taking count of the glasses of bubbles she had — she was nursing her fourth flute, Anthony had decided it was enough.

Don’t make a scene.

Lady Bridgerton felt an intense urge to strike her husband across his cheek, how dare he accuse her of making a fool out of him. All evening she had overheard whispers of Anthony’s name from nasty gossipers. The young Bridgertons had been the central characters in the latest edition of Lady Whistledown. Rumor has it that Lord Bridgerton had continued an affair with a certain singer, without bothering to hide it from his young wife. Even worse? Lady Bridgerton knew, as they all knew, and never seemed to let the truth affect how she presented herself to those around her.

“Would you like me to answer that truthfully, my dear husband?” She turned her gaze towards him, her eyes alight with a burning fury towards the unfaithful man she had devoted her life to. She jerked her arm away from his grip and started to lift the glass to her painted lips. Anthony grabbed the dainty piece of glass and shook his head, “I think you’ve had enough. It’s time for you to go home.”

A bitter laugh escaped her mouth before she could stop it, as a few heads turned to observe the titular couple. “If that is your wish, Mr. Bridgerton.” She turned on her heel and started to make her way out to the cold air, cursing herself for leaving her coat in the carriage. She didn’t even bother to wait for her husband to catch up as she informed the valet they would be leaving.

The carriage ride to the estate wasn’t anything special. She would sit and seethe in silence during the ride, her eyes burning a hole through Anthony’s forehead as he sat across from her. The argument began once the couple was behind the safety of their bedroom door, standing in front of each other with defenses up. “We have been married for two years, Anthony! Two years and the only time you have touched me was on our wedding night. Yet every night you come home, to OUR bed, smelling like some whore’s perfume! I am left to listen to the ton gossip about MY empty bed!” She nearly hissed the words to punctuate her accusations. Anthony had never seen such an outburst from the young woman, she had never spoken to him like that before. She was standing before him, the drinks she had at the ball fueling her anger and simultaneously allowing the anger to sober her head.

“I know that I wasn’t who you wanted to marry, I understand that this was just a beneficial arrangement for you. But I expect that as the woman who now holds your family name, who will one day bear your children, that you could at the very least respect me!” She was angry that he had just stood there and watched her yell, but at the same time, she wouldn’t let him get a word in.

“You cannot expect me to be a dutiful wife and lady if you refuse to grant me at least the tiniest shred of dignity. You, sir, make a fool of yourself, I am merely seeking that same kind of attention you seek from Siena.” Her voice dripped with sickly sweet venom as she spat the woman’s name.

Anthony allowed the woman to speak her mind on his infidelity, finally admitting to himself that he had been unfair to her. He frequently came into their room in the middle of the night when he expected the woman to be asleep. In the beginning of the marriage, he had at least tried to hide the evidence, changing his clothes before he climbed under the blankets next to her. Now, she was accustomed to him laying down beside her without even taking off the shirt that was stained with Siena’s stage makeup and that reeked of her pungent perfume.

“I do not understand, Anthony. I can come to terms with a loveless marriage, but I am so exhausted by knowing you’re giving her that kind of attention, and I have remained loyal to you despite the obvious signs of your affair-“ her rant was abruptly cut short when Anthony floated over to her, his hands gripping her cheeks with fervor as he crashed his lips to hers. Taking only a moment to stand in shock, she pressed her lips back against his, her hand reaching to grip onto the front of his overcoat. Desperately reaching for more, trying to edge him closer to their bed but ultimately allowing him full control over her mind, body and soul. She let out a disappointed whimper when his lips parted from hers, his face inches from her own.

“What is it that you want from me, woman? You wish for me to touch you the way I touch her? Or do you believe my hands to be too stained?” She hated how close his lips were, desperately trying to reach forward as he spoke his mind. She didn’t really care how improper the words sounded as they came from his mouth, because she DID want him to touch her- not just touch, she wanted him to fuck her the way he fucked his mistress.

She took a moment to find her words, not expecting her confrontation to lead to this moment. “Anthony, I am your wife. All I want is for you to- to fuck me the way a husband fucks his wife.”

Understanding that he had a year’s worth of missing passion to make up for, and seeing that deep down he had no other choice than to obey the woman before him, he easily obliged. In this moment, Siena didn’t exist to him. He was purely focused on making sure his duties as a husband were thoroughly taken care of. Tonight, he would go to sleep smelling of his wife’s soft scent, making sure to cover the woman in marks of his affection.

Little time was wasted in getting their clothes off. A mess of hands clashing together to try and undo buttons and layers and loops, the couple grasping at each other as though they were desperate for the other as a life source.

Anthony paused for a moment to admire his lady’s body in the soft candlelight, letting his hands first run over the delectable curve of her hips, trailing up her sides before settling on her supple breasts.

“I’m sorry that I have spent so long torturing you, making you only imagine my hands touching you like this. I promise, my lady, I will do a much better job at attending to whatever it is you wish from me.” Anthony promised as his eyes stayed locked with hers. Her pupils were blown wide, and he realized he didn’t even know what color her irises were meant to be. He told himself he’d be a better husband to her after this, wanting to ensure her place in society as his wife. He’d fuck her full of his seed tonight, and every night after that, to make sure that Lady Whistledown could never accuse him of neglecting his wife’s desires again.

“Please, my lord, please--“ Lady Bridgerton sounded deliciously desperate, and it excited Anthony in a way that he had never experienced in his years-long affairs with Siena. It spurred him to plunge his cock deeper into his wife, his hand pushing her thigh down to her shoulder as he positioned her to angle himself deeper. She would probably think about the pressure against her cervix for the rest of her life, praying to God that she’d be able to experience this side of her husband for the rest of their lives together.

“What is it that you want, Lady Bridgerton? Tell me with words, my love, I want to hear you say it.” In this close position he could make sure she could look into his eyes to see he was genuine in this moment.

She was surprised at his stamina and determination tonight, focused more on her body than chasing his own release. A complete contrast to their wedding night, she felt like he treated the consummation as a chore. This was a much, much better experience. She had lost count of the times he had made her cum tonight, and the ways he had coaxed her orgasms from her.

“Anthony- Christ! Please don’t stop, want you to fuck me full til i’m round with your child-“ her voice was ragged and on the verge of giving out after not holding back a single sound. She didn’t care how pathetic she sounded begging for what seemed like the bare minimum from her husband.

Anthony leaned down to capture her lips in a messy kiss, reaching down to grab her hand that was tangled in the sheets beneath her. He caught any noises that escaped her, the sounds muffled against his own mouth, moving to hold her hand above her head. She clutched at his hand and whimpered his name as his hips stilled after a few sloppy thrusts, thick ropes coating her walls.

Anthony stayed put for a moment so as to not waste a drop, pulling his lips from hers before ghosting them over the hammering pulse in her neck. He gently maneuvered her pliable body into a resting position, slowly pulling himself from her and getting up from the bed.

After he had gently cleaned up the mess he had made of the woman, Anthony peppered soft kisses over her stomach as he made his way up to lay down next to her. She instantly curled into his chest and closed her eyes, taking her time in coming down from the cloud she was on. She could feel his fingers gently combing through her mussed hair, the sensation slowly bringing her back to earth.

“Are you alright, Lady Bridgerton?” Anthony spoke softly to not spook her, his arms locked safely around her keeping her pressed to his body. Her lips quirked into a smile and he took notice of the way her cheek dimpled, his thumb moving to stroke over the small impression.

“I am absolutely content, Lord Bridgerton.” She opened her eyes to look up at her husband’s face. Anthony smiled as he kissed her again, a kiss so tender that nearly brought tears to her eyes.

“I may not be the perfect husband, but I vow to do better by you. I will end things with Siena and tend to the parts of you that I’ve been neglectful of.” Anthony made a promise to her after he had pulled away. His wife reached up to grab his hand in hers, moving it to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles before she spoke.

“You can use all of the sweet words that you want, you’ll still have to prove yourself with actions.” She squeezed his hand gently, “But I think this has been good start.”

#anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton fic #bridgerton #bridgerton season 1 #Anthony Bridgerton smut #bridgerton smut

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nikkisheep · 10 months

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To Be Alone With You

Anthony Bridgerton x female!Sharma!reader

Warnings: Smut, TENSION, cursing, oral (f), reader is Kate's full sister, kissing, touching when not supposed to, Anthony and his voice (warning himself), virgin reader (innocent ofc), sex on a dock (lol), kinda public sex, slight angst

I am so sorry that it got so long but it is so worth it. This is also my first Bridgerton fic so hope its good. :)

Summary: It was time that Anthony Bridgerton to finally meet the final Sharma sister who may stand in his way of marrying Miss Edwina Sharma but not like he expected her to.

Anthony Bridgerton was a man who was used to having any woman melt and cling to his every word. Women practically threw themselves at his feet the moment he walked in the room. His presence was a strong one, making everyone eager to please the viscount.

When Viscount Bridgerton met Edwina Sharma, the newly named "Diamond of the Season", he was happy that he could find at least one woman with half a brain. Miss Edwina was the suitable bride and soon Viscountess. It was almost too easy, so he thought. That was until he met the elder sister of Miss Edwina. Kate Sharma, a woman of one and twenty who was unwed herself, was a challenge that Anthony could not refuse. He fell into a pursuit to win over the eldest Sharma sister, doing everything by the book. Well, with a few exceptions.

The Viscount did not want a love match. He could never fall in love with the woman who will bear his children. He just couldn't. And Miss Edwina Sharma was exactly the woman who he could not possibly love but, she would make a wonderful bride for him to breed and come to have a heir to fill the Viscount role when Anthony died.

A last, his mother, Viscountess Violet Bridgerton, had invited the Sharma family to visit the lovely Aubrey Halls. It would be Mrs. Mary Sharma, the lovely girls' mother, Miss Edwina Sharma and then Miss Kate Sharma. Anthony was ready to deal with Kate when she arrived.

---

Dinner was being served when the thunder started. Benedict seemed like he had lost his mind, no doubt had drank Colin's tea that he brought from his travels.

"Have you noticed, Col?" Benedict asked, "The twinkles of the candles, it is as....as if we sit among the stars."

Eloise snorted and looked to her older brother, "What is wrong with you?''

"I was just telling Benedict how brilliant the stars were in Greece," answered Colin.

Benedict went to take a sip of his wine but knocked it over, causing Violet and the other ladies to gasp at the table. The brother smiled and rubbed his hands over his cheeks in an innocent way.

"Lord Bridgerton, Miss Sharma here," A butler said.

"Whatever do you mean, Miss Sharma is here? How many are there?"

In just a few seconds a woman walks in, wearing the similar purple dress that the Sharma sisters were wearing. She looked identical to Kate, except her eyes were lighter. Her hair was more brown than black and she held her head high. Her presence was enough to even sober up Benedict for a moment.

"Is it just me or is there two Kates?" Benedict said, mind foggy.

"I am so sorry for my late arrival. Lady Bridgerton, the house is lovely." The woman said.

Violet blushed and thanked the woman. The older woman always enjoyed getting compliments about her home that she shared with Edmund.

"You said you couldn't make it," Edwina states as she moves to hug the woman. Everyone was confused as a goose until Kate stood up.

"This is my sister," Kate said, moving to stand by her.

You introduce yourself and smile at everyone, that is until you see Anthony. He had this look about him and you couldn't quite tell.

"I assume this is the viscount you were telling me about, Kate?" You said.

"Yes, this is Lord Bridgerton. He is the viscount and is to marry Edwina."

You looked at him and he just smirked. He had found a new toy to play with. And god did he want to play.

You looked at him.

"My lord, forgive me for my tartiness," You say, voice rich.

"All is forgiven, my lady." He had a hard look.

"Please, I am hardly a noble lady to earn that title,'' You tease.

Anthony was taken by surprise, no one had ever teased about their noblity or anything. Being a proper lady is very serious and not taken lightly. There was another Sharma sister, but at least this one seemed nice. For now.

---

You were quite the most annoying and challenging lady Anthony had the misery to meet. You talked too much, you jested a bit, your teasing with Benedict made his blood boil. Your words melting off your tongue and practically bringing Anthony's younger brother to his knees.

Benedict's face had blushed right before you move to rest your hand on his shoulder.

"My dear, Benedict, how are you?" You asked kindly, flashing that beautiful smile that made everyone melt.

"I am quite well, Miss Sharma." He looked down right flustered with your presence beside him.

Lady Bridgerton held a small ball at Aubrey Hall and Benedict had just finished dancing with you. The two of you had swept through the floor, everyone in envy that Mr. Bridgerton's attention was solely on you.

"Brother, I hate to steal our guest from you but I am in need of a dance," Anthony stepped in to say.

"I suppose that I have one dance in me," You laughed.

"I hadn't asked yet," Anthony said.

"Well, in that case, Benedict you wouldn't mind having yet another dance with me?" You smirked when Anthony rolled his eyes and groaned.

Once you got on the dance floor, Anthony could not keep his eyes off you, even as he danced with Edwina and Kate.

"My brother seems to be taking a liking to you," Benedict smiled.

"Please, he wants to marry my sister. After all, who even said I wanted him. Maybe I want you," You whisper the last part in his ear. He shudders against you and smiles.

"Is that true now, Miss Sharma?"

"Perhaps."

----

Pall Mall was the ruthless game that the Bridgerton's ever played. The Mallet of Death sat in your hands as Benedict had handed it to you with a wink and a sly smile. You blushed at the brother's antics.

He moved to be closer to you and whispered something in your ear which made you snort aloud and Kate looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Who has my bloody mallet?" Anthony's voice boomed in the air.

"My lord, I do not know," Kate smirked.

"Where is it?"

You coughed to clear your throat, suddenly bringing the Viscount's attention to you. That might have been a bad idea. It surely was.

"You...You have my mallet, I believe."

"I do?" You inquired.

"Yes, Miss Sharma, you do."

"Well, I suppose that I could just give it to you," You start to hand it to him, his siblings surprised at how easy you were giving it up, and Anthony was smiling, "But first you will have to catch me." You took off running down the field and Anthony just watched in surprise.

"Did she?"

"I believe she did," Daphne laughed. She watched as her older brother looked as if he wanted to blow up.

"Dear brother, I think you should go get her if that mallet is very important to you." Colin laughed as Anthony ran down the field, looking for you as the Mallet of Death rested in your possession.

He ran looking for you and he heard your sweet giggle coming from in the garden. He looked to see that everyone had given up on waiting for them and started the match without the two of you. He walked around the garden to find you crouching behind a hedge and was covering your mouth as you looked around the side of the bush, hoping to not be seen.

His boots moved to quietly as he stalked closer to your frame. He then grabbed your waist and picked you up, causing you to gasp into his hand.

"Lord Bridgerton, put me down this instant."

He placed you down on the ground and stands close to your body. His warmth and scent poured over you in waves. He smelt like sweat, dirt, body wash, slight scent of vanilla, and sandalwood?

"Lord Bridger-"

"Anthony, my name is Anthony." He said, panting at the closeness that he had created.

"My lord-"

"Anthony."

"My lord, it is improper to call you by your given name," You say, trying to catch your breath and not breathe his scent in.

"And us being in my mother's garden alone is very improper, I dare say, Miss Sharma."

Your smell floods his senses when he takes a deep breath and move closer to you, chests touching. The smell of dirt, sweat, lilies and Jasmine? God, it drove him crazy. Just being around you drove him crazy.

"You followed me here.''

"You ran here."

"You chased me."

"You took my mallet."

"I-" You stutter, "Benedict gave it to me."

He looks at you with something dark in his eyes, something that burned with fiery. His hand came to touch your waist and you nearly melt. He looks at your chest, noticing that you were wearing the Bridgerton color. You normally wore purple but you were wearing the baby blue that stood for his family.

"You are wearing my family color," He says, blood rushing some where it did not need to be.

"Oh, I had not known that I wasn't allowed to wear blue."

"It stands for my family and you...are...wearing...my...color."

His body presses closer to you, invading your space. He moves to corner you against the tall hedge, the only thing keeping your situation from any on lookers.

His mouth moves to rest beside your ear, hot breath fanning over the exposed skin there, goosebumps rising on your skin.

"You want something, I can sense it."

You shudder.

"And what would that be, my lord?"

"You want me," He said lowly.

"You are to marry Edwina," You correct him.

"That doesn't change that you desire me," He chuckles at your attempt.

"I beg your pardon. You are a rake and I have no desire for such a person like you. You are to marry my sister, not me. If you wish to be with my sister than act like it, if not then leave her alone. I will not be some play thing for you to play with when you want to."

"Oh but you are my play toy. You are whatever I want you to be. Do you know why?" He asked.

"Why?"

"Because all I have to do is whisper real close to your ear, like this," He moved even closer, "And tell you that I desire you in ways that would make any mama blush and cry out for improper topics to a lady."

You take in a ragged breath.

"Desire me?"

"Yes, why do you think I came out here to get you?"

"To get your mallet?"

"No, so I can have you."

" You are courting my sister to marry. I am done with this topic and I am leaving this garden. Good day, Lord Bridgerton."

---

Anthony was reeling. He couldn't stop thinking about you. He can't sleep at night because of you. It wasn't your fault. No, it was your fault. You were the one who kept reminding him of his soon to be proposal to your sister and putting him in his place. Heavens above, he couldn't help but be aroused when you put him where he was meant to be. And that perfume that you have, Jasmine and Lillies, god it did things to him.

---

The day had been hot, very hot and you knew that you shouldn't but you were burning for a swim in the lake. You couldn't help it. After being in the garden with the Viscount, it felt you aflame.

Sneaking out of your chambers, you made your way outside to the lake that rested toward the trees.

Looking around, you made sure that no one was up and you were making sure that you were not followed. You made your way to a tree and took off your coat. Yo began your task of unbuttoning your gown.

Anthony watched you remove each piece of fabric from your body as he made his way down to the lake himself. He had not known that you were going to be here. He had not expected it. He always goes for a midnight swim when he couldn't sleep. Why he couldn't sleep? You.

Slipping onto the dock, you take a dive, cold water enveloping your body. It felt heavenly against your heated skin. Anthony was never to be allowed to know that he was the reason behind the midnight swim in the lake. You swam to the middle and was sighing while looking up to the moon. The entire lake was lit by the moon, banishing all shadows from being cast onto your face. You looked angelic.

Anthony slipped in the water after stripping completely bare and went underwater. He wanted to see you move about when you were by yourself. He had wanted to see you nude, part of his mind begging him to see what you looked like, but you were still a lady and he was a gentleman.

You heard a splash and you turned around very quickly, spotting none other than Anthony Bridgerton. You knew you were caught and he would laugh at you but he just swam closer. You could only see his shoulders and water was dripping down them to be collected back to the lake.

"My lord-"

"I do believe that we are now way past formalities," He chuckled.

He was silently begging to hear his name fall from your lips. He knew this was wrong. You were his betrothed sister. You were a lady. You were innocent. If he took that from you, you would be ruined. But...but you looked so desirable. You looked just ready to be ravished by his mouth. To be tasted in places that you had never thought of to be touched. To be submitted to such incredible pleasure that Anthony knew that he could bring you. To be his.

He swam closer to you, grabbing your hand which he used to pull you until you were placing your hands on his shoulders to hold onto. You gasped at how warm he still was, even in the chilled water of the night. Anthony looked at you, smiling when he realizes that you move even closer, your legs brushing every time you move to keep yourselves afloat.

"I want you," He admits.

He kisses your lips, groaning when you kiss back only for a second before he feels himself being pushed away from you.

"You are engaged to my sister," You say.

"Not yet."

"But-"

"But, I want you. I don't want Edwina. I don't want Kate. I want you," He says, "I desire you."

Anthony kissed your lips once more, swallowing any sound coming from your mouth. His tongue brushed yours and you moaned. You had never done that but with Anthony, you felt so good you couldn't keep it inside.

Anthony had you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling something quite odd in between his legs but you didn't question it when he took your breast into his awaiting mouth. He sucked your nipple and ran his tongue around it as he teased you mercilessly. Your hair was down so it was hanging in the water as you threw your head back in bliss as he moved to bite at your collarbones and neck.

Anthony moved the two of you all the way to the dock, picking you up out of the water and seating you directly onto the hard wood. He then watches as you move back, suddenly aware of how exposed you are to him. He puts his hands on the dock and pushes himself out of the water, droplets trickling down his slightly hairy chest down to his now every noticeable something. You didn't know what on earth it could even be.

"What is that?" You said shyly, pointing to his hips.

"That would be my cock." He just chuckled.

"It looks hard," You said, "does it hurt?"

He groaned at your innocence. God, you were going to be the death of him. You looked so nervous to even ask and then when you did, you blushed deeply. You were so cute.

"It hurts some times when I desire someone really bad," He explained.

"Like Edwina? Did it ever hurt for Edwina or Kate?" You asked softly.

"No, never with them. I want you," He said, holding your face, "God, you consume every thought that I make. You make it so, so hard to be a gentleman. There is no way that I can escape you, no matter how hard I try because you are always in my mind."

He kissed you once more and you let him. You were going to forget about Edwina, who the man currently moving in between your legs and kissing every inch of your body, was supposed to get married to. You were going to forget the rules of being a proper lady. You were going to forget formalities and just revel in the pleasure that is being caused by the mouth of your sister's soon to be betrothed.

"Anthony!" You cried when he made contact with the little bud between your folds and he licked it. Your body was shot with electricity that sent your back to be arching.

He hummed against your core and went back to sucking on your clit. No one or nothing could have prepared you for the Viscount's tongue to slip inside of you. He had done so when you were pulling on his hair as you grasped for anything but you could not find anything to ground you. Anthony swept you away in pure pleasure as he ate you like a starved man. He drank anything your body was willing to give and he took it with a groan. His eyes rolled back as he tasted you.

"Oh, my lord-"

"It's Anthony. Just Anthony," He said before staring at your weeping cunt.

Your hands pulled at the man's hair and his other hand, that wasn't holding down your hips, moved up to grab a hold of your free hand that was gripping your breast. Your back arched when he made one last circle with his tongue on your clit and you burst with carnal desire. You shook against Anthony's mouth as he drank you in.

He thought you were so beautiful laying out for him, under the stars on his dock, wet hair after a late night swim and most of all, the way the moon shone down on you. You looked ever so innocent but oh so dirty.

"Are you okay?" He asked when he noticed you not moving but still shaking.

"I'm more than okay."

He laughed and began kissing up your body. His tongue poked out every once and a while as he traveled up to your mouth. The taste of yourself was erotic. You had never known something could exist. Anthony moved on top of you and positioned himself so that his cock would rest between your sensitive folds. He had to contain himself so that he wouldn't cum right on the spot.

You gave him a nod before he claimed your lips as he pushed himself inside your waiting body. You moaned out loud before you started panting against Anthony's mouth as the two of you tried to adjust to the sudden feeling. His arms shook as his head fell onto your chest as your hand ran through his hair, pulling slightly.

"Are you ready for me to move because if you aren't that's okay but I really need to move?" Water trickled down his body as he held himself above you, looking down at you.

"Please, Anthony." He smiled at his name and started to slowly pull out, letting you feel every ridge and vein his dick possessed and you were enjoying it. Anthony thrusted back in and your head fell back against the wooden dock. As Anthony thrusted his cock in and out of you, the only things that could be heard was your labored breathing and the sounds of your bodies moving against each other as the two of you reached new heights together and the sound of crickets chirping in the grass.

"Oh, god you feel so good," Anthony groaned.

"So fucking good," You panted, hips rising to match his. You were chasing something but you didn't know what. You didn't even know what was happening when your muscles started to tighten and some kind of euphoria started to crash down on you.

Anthony's breathing got caught in his throat as he watched your face contort in pleasure as he pumped himself constantly in you, trying to reach his end. He looked at your blissful face and decided that you would give him another.

"Just one more, darling, and then I can fill you up real nice." His hand went in between your legs as he watched himself move inside and out of you. His thumb began circling your clit, his cock hitting the right spots every time, his face tightening in desirable lust as he held himself above you, moving faster, trying to make you cum for a third time before he got his.

"Oh, Anthony!" You moan before he places a kiss on your lips to silence you. You cum one last time and Anthony unloads himself completely in you once bottoming out inside you. You laid there with him as he felt the aftershocks of his orgasm and you shuddered at the sudden cold.

Anthony kisses you lazily as he feels you giggle against his lips when he sighs into you. He pulls out and then shudders at the cold.

"I think we should go get some nice warm milk and sit by the fire to warm up," He proposes.

"Won't we get caught?"

"Darling, we just had sex on the dock in front of my house and you are worried about getting caught with some milk by the fire?" He laughed.

"Well, I can't be seen with you alone."

"Fine, but let's get dressed and go inside so we can sleep."

"In the same room?" You ask in a quiet voice.

"Not yet. We might get caught."

"Maybe getting caught wouldn't be so bad then," You giggle when you see his bare ass.

"Oh you are a little minx," Anthony groans.

"Maybe," You gasp when he picks you up after you get dressed and then carries you inside.

He takes you to your room and puts you down so you can stand. He doesn't want to let go but he knows he needs to leave soon.

''Good night, Miss Sharma." He said with a kiss.

"Good night, Lord Bridgerton," You sigh against his lips.

The kiss is passionate but is cut short when the clock decided to strike three and make a loud noise. You both laugh and he sees you close the door and he then walks to his chambers.

He finally can go to sleep with a smile on his face. A smile that didn't disappear the following day until he realized that he had to propose to your sister, Edwina Sharma.

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hellishjoel · 5 months

Text

new year’s day

3.7k / pairing: francisco “frankie” “catfish” morales x f!reader

12 Days of Pedro Masterlist | hellishjoel masterlist | notifications blog

summary: You’ve found fulfillment in every aspect of life alongside your husband, Frankie. In the early hours of New Year’s Day, you and Frankie discuss your aspirations for the coming year. Among these, the possibility of embarking on the journey to parenthood, starting a family, and conceiving a child may be at the forefront.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), established marriage, discussion of alcohol consumption, cursing, discussions about starting a family/being pregnant/having a baby, a few pov switches, mommy issues go brrr, use of pet names (princess, momma (x3)), frankie’s hot dad bod, mix of sub!frankie and dom!frankie, pinch of daddy kink, unprotected PiV, breeding kink go hard, dirty talk, overstimulation, hickies, titty play, creampie

A/N: thank you for celebrating 12 Days of Pedro! come back to the masterlist every day from Dec. 11 - Dec. 22 to open a new present from the most amazing authors! special thanks to the breeding kink queen herself @thetriumphantpanda for beta reading this work! banners, per usual, from @saradika-graphics. enjoy!

There’s glitter on the floor after the party. Not to mention streamers, spare party hats, and dribbles of wine on the hardwood floor. Spare polaroids with goofy grins and blurry kisses at midnight. You hold one of you and Frankie to your chest, your heart swarming with a warm buzz caused by too much liquor and a lot of love.

Your eyes lift to Frankie, his lopsided party hat holding on for dear life as he tosses empty beer bottles into a large black trash bag.

Everyone’s left now, catching cabs or a ride home from their sober counterparts. An annual Morales tradition; countdown to the New Year with your closest friends, the ones you’d consider family.

You hope to remember these memories forever and that the memories hold on to you. The good and the bad. The friends you made, the friends you lost, remembering that people come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.

Cheers, kisses, and giggles at midnight.

“You ready, my lady?” Frankie asks as he hands you your journal, his own leatherbound one in his hand as he settles down beside you on the floor, your backs against the front of the couch.

Another Morales tradition; New Year’s Goals. It all started a few years ago, your and Frankie’s first New Year’s together. Both drunk and rolling around on the floor, you decided to write your goals for the New Year. You thought they had a lot of power, and it was good to have motivations, even if they didn’t last all year.

The fire crackled as Frankie nudged a log with the poker, his face illuminated in a brilliant orange light. He was so handsome. You were so in love. You couldn’t think of anything else you needed, everything you wanted was right here in front of you. Well, almost everything.

Frankie lifted a Pabst beer bottle to his lips, tilting his head back to finish it off. A wet smack leaves his lips. You smirk as you feel his eyes on your list, curiously leaning his head to the side to sneak a peek at what your pen was etching into blank paper.

“Do you mind?” You tease, nudging your elbow playfully into his ribs. “You know we’re not supposed to share until we’re both done.” You whisper as you pen in another thought. You both agreed to list three to five goals every year, things you wanted to make happen, things you want to change. Whatever it took to better yourself and the small life you’ve created with your husband.

Frankie radiates warmth beside you, he’s always been like that. Even in just a dark pair of jeans and a black Carhartt t-shirt, he was as warm as the fireplace wavers heat in front of you. You lay your head gently on his broad shoulder, humming softly as you close your eyes, the exhaustion of prepping and then celebrating your New Year’s party finally taking its toll. But you couldn’t help but be so full of joy, considering yourself lucky to be surrounded by so much love.

Your eyes open just as you feel Frankie smack a period at the end of one of his goals making his arm lurch before he tips his head down to you. “M’ready. You wanna go first?” Frankie asks, reaching his hand up to pull the small party hat off his head, watching as he sits it down beside him very delicately. So precious. Your heart swells thinking about your list, slowly nodding and sitting up straight as you re-open your journal to review your goals list.

“Okay, I only have three,”

“Me too,” Frankie interjects.

“Perfect, okay, so number one, I want to dedicate more time to be creative. Whether it’s writing, or painting, or… I don’t know, picking up crocheting, I want to set aside more time for that sort of stuff instead of brainlessly watching shows.”

Frankie’s smile tilts, slowly nodding in understanding. “I’d love to hang up more of your paintings around the house. The walls could use a little color.”

Your sweet boy. He was always so supportive. You sweetly cupped the underside of his chin and pecked his lips. Frankie playfully cleared his throat and states his first goal.

“Number one. I want to eat out less.” He pauses as he assesses your pouting face. “Don’t look at me like that. We’ll still go out sometimes, I just feel like we should cook at home more.”

You couldn’t blame him. All the takeaway Chinese and pizza deliveries were really tugging at the precious strings that was your joint bank account.

“Fine. But I won’t be happy about it. And this sort of ruins my second goal, which is to try more restaurants.”

You and Frankie both take a moment to throw back your heads in laughter, rolling closer to one another as he shakes his head at you slowly. “We’ll figure it out, we always do. And that’s my second goal, more communication whenever I feel like I’m stuck. I know I’m not always…” he pauses and fiddles with his hands, nervous ticks causing him to pop his knuckles, “M’not always the best with talking things out. So I wanna work on that.”

Heat catches along your neck and chest, the way he looks at you with a twinkle in his eyes, as if you put the moon and stars in the sky. Your sweet boy. He’s not perfect, you both had worked so hard to get where you were, but it took a lot of time and trust. You built a solid foundation for your relationship, and now it felt like there wasn’t anything you couldn’t tackle together.

“What’s your last goal for the new year?”

Frankie watches as you purse your lips, eye contact straying as you stare down at your handwriting. Something hung in the air. Uncertainty? He reaches out and gently clasps your free hand in his, deep brown eyes searching your beautiful orbs in reassurance. There was that feeling again, of promise and future. More birthdays, more holidays, more anniversaries, and more New Year’s Days.

After a moment, Frankie’s lips part as you set aside your journal, taking a deep breath. God what was it?

“A baby,” you say in less than a whisper.

A surprised little smile slowly crosses Frankie’s face, a glint of fondness and curiosity in his eyes.

This wasn’t your first conversation about starting a family.

It began in small places, like seeing children in line at the grocery store. All chubby-cheeked with big toothy grins, tugging on their parent's sleeve and asking them for a sweet from the checkout.

Then, your mutual friends had their first baby. You were able to see them at the hospital. New momma laid back in bed. New dad sitting in the chair beside her. Tiredness in their eyes but their excitement overshadowed any doubt. You held their daughter, Elise, in your arms. So beautiful. And sleepy.

But what really pulled at your heartstrings, and perhaps your womb, was when Frankie held his baby nephew for the first time. You both were in the hospital waiting room for hours, nervous but excited, hoping the delivery went well for his sister and for the new baby.

“Come here, Frankie, hold him. Just don’t drop him.” She teased.

Frankie took a step forward, then a step back. He had never held something so small, so precious, untouched by the outside world. What if he held him wrong? What if he cried and fussed?

The warmth of your hand touched his shoulder, your small smile and nod encouraging him to be brave, to love the new addition to their family. With your vote of confidence, Frankie remembered to carefully support the baby’s head as his sister handed him over. Because, of course, she could trust Frankie. Uncle Frankie, now.

His warm amber eyes glistened as he stared lovingly down at the bundle in his arms. He was beautiful, with dashing dark hair just like his sister had. A tiny little nose and sweet pouted lips. Frankie couldn’t understand why his eyes welled up with tears. He was just so proud to be an uncle, to see his younger sister now in charge of a tiny little newborn. He just couldn’t believe that such a beautiful life was born out of the love his sister and his brother-in-law shared.

Then he looked at you. And he knew his heart was certain. He wanted this, and he wanted it with you.

In all truthfulness, you weren’t as sure as Frankie was. You excused his excitement for baby fever. It was your job to remind him that you were still saving up for a new home, that your financials were a bit of a wreck, and that babies weren’t always soundly sleeping. There would be sleepless nights, messy food on their faces, and very full diapers. A big responsibility.

You also didn’t come from a wonderful family like Frankie was raised in. You often wondered if you were to start a family, could you be different from your parents? Or would you fall into the same habits as they did?

How would you be as a mother?

You tried to remember that it was your mother’s first time on this Earth, too. And that she had it worse when she was little. But you were little too. What if you inherited your mother’s fleshy crimson anger? Or her blue-warped vision of sadness?

What if something ever happened to Frankie, and you were left alone to care for your baby? Could you do it alone? Could you even do it together? What ifs after what ifs.

You cried out your insecurities to Frankie that night. Shaking and sobbing in his arms as he tried to calm your breathing. You had bared your soul to him, remarking about the childhood you wished you could have had. He kissed the top of your head and held you tight like a boa constrictor, promising that you didn’t have to figure it all out tonight. That he would drop the topic of family until you were truly ready.

That was over two years ago now. Frankie still had that gleaming light in his eyes when he saw his nephew over holidays, birthdays, or little occasions of visiting with his sister. Soon, you started to have that gleam too. Because you realized it wasn’t only Frankie’s dream to have a family, but was yours too. Because Frankie would be the father of your children. And a brilliant one at that.

The nerves had faded away with your husband’s endless love. And you were ready this New Year’s Day.

“Say something,” you urged anxiously, but Frankie was just staring at you with so much love and hope.

Finally, it hit him.

He cups your cheeks, thumbing his way up your cheekbone and gently cupping your jawline. “You mean it? You’re ready? Don’t- please don’t do this for me, I could wait a lifetime for you, you hear me?”

You let out a wet little laugh and nod eagerly, holding your hands around his wrists as he came to rest his forehead against yours. “I don’t want to wait anymore, Frankie. I’m ready. We’re ready.” You assured, watching a large smile crash on his face.

There’s an eagerness when he leans in to kiss you, lips crashing and his hold on you tightening as if you were going to slip out of his embrace.

“Oh,” you whimper against his mouth, feeling him glide his tongue across your lower lip before he fully envelopes you. It’s needy, it’s desperate, and damn, is it overdue.

Your fingers wind up into his messy curls, tugging him on top of you as you fell back onto the floor. The heat of the fireplace tickled warmth on your temple, and a certain heat in your belly set in.

“Can we start now?” He muttered against your mouth, his strong hands palming at your hips as his center matched with your own.

“Fuck, yes,” you gasp before pulling him in once more, your needy hands grappling at the hem of his shirt and tugging it upwards.

Unable to help but glance in awe as Frankie sits up on his knees and tosses off his shirt. Holy mother of god, you didn’t realize how much of a perfect dad bod he already possessed. Jesus.

“I-I don’t even know if I’m ovulating,” you stutter out as your hands messily reach forward, tugging his belt loose and popping the button on his jeans.

“Don’t care,” Frankie mutters, voice drenched in deep lust as his hungry mouth found yours again. You couldn’t help but melt into his touch and his dirty mouth.

The man was feral. It was like he was possessed.

Something in Frankie had flipped. You had just confessed you wanted to start a family and allow him the opportunity to be a father to your children. You’d be their beautiful mother, kind, thoughtful, sweet, and smart. Fuck, he wanted to put this baby in you right now.

He felt like he was burning for you, worshiping at the altar between your thighs. Saying you were ready with full confidence was something indescribable. And he was ready to show you he was taking this opportunity seriously.

Frankie wastes no time in stripping you of your clothes, nearly tossing your top into the fireplace with how eager he is. He melts into your body, his half-hard cock sloppily bucking against your thigh in neediness.

“Lemme put a baby in you, princess, wanna see you carry our child in your perfect body. Fuck,” he muttered as his hand slipped down between your thighs, watching your lips part and make an oh shape.

Your slick coats his fingers, your thighs already shaking with desperation.

“Frankie, don’t make me wait, want you to fill me up so fucking bad,” your wavering voice begs as you sit up on your elbows and begin to stoke over his cock. He easily swells in your grasp, growing heavier and heavier. His face clenches as his hips buck into your tight, squeezing hand once more.

“Goddamit, you’re so fucking perfect,” he rasps as his own hand takes over pumping his cock, gathering it in your slick he had collected and letting out a heavenly moan at the feeling. Pre-cum leaks at his fleshy red tip, jaw tight as he holds his base, beginning to guide the head of his cock up and down your wet center.

Frankie watches you flinch with a small smirk every time he flicks off your clit. He’s drunk off watching you be ready, watching you take this leap with him, putting your trust in him that he will be the best father to your children. And honestly, he can’t fucking wait any longer.

Your sharp gasp fills the room, Frankie piercing your walls and filling you to the brim in one heavy thrust. Both of you swallow the other’s moans and groans, eyes tightly closed and mouths agape.

“That’s it, momma, take me so well,” he hums, a new fantasy forming behind his eyes.

He wants to see you dripping in his cum, just so he can gently push it all back in with his fingers. His eyes were gold with fire and greed, wanting you to be his in the best way imaginable.

Ragged pants fill the distance between you both as he steadily rocks his hips into yours. Frankie watches as your hands scrabble for something to hold onto before you finally tug him down and wind your fingers into his dark chocolate curls.

Sweet whimpers ring into his ear as his thrusts grow in power, caging you protectively in his arms. You weren’t going anywhere.

“Fuck, Frankie, you’re filling me up,” you cry out, feeling Frankie hit the spot only he can reach, the one that tickles at your cervix and pushes you into another dimension of pleasure. The place where you’re breathless and cloudy, lost in how good he feels.

Frankie digs his forehead into your temple, looking down at you as his hips repeatedly snap into you. He’s gone wild, a weak little smirk on his face as he thinks about you swollen with his babe inside you a few months down the road.

“Keep sayin’ that,” Frankie mutters, feeling a rush course through his body like a new high he’s never encountered. He shifts his weight onto his forearm nestled beside your head, his opposite hand snaking delicately between your bodies and starting to create sweet circles around your throbbing clit. You’re soaking wet, feeling your slick splash against his balls every time you both fully connect.

You’re unsure what he means at first, what to keep saying, your head in the stars as Frankie’s hips nail you to the floor with each heavy thrust. Plus, his finger on your clit is sending you to high heavens. Then it clicks.

You gulp and refocus, needing to get him there because God, after years of waiting, you want to give him this so badly.

“Frankie, baby,” you gather your breath and cradle his face, his desperate eyes meeting yours. “I want you t-to use me, fill me with your seed, I wanna feel it. Fuck, want you to be so deep inside me, your cum goes s-straight into my uterus,” you beg.

Frankie’s thrusts snap methodically faster, a few loose bucks from his hips at first, but now he trying to control himself strategically.

“Fuck, daddy,” you cry out, digging your head back into the floor as your chin tilts to the ceiling. “Use me as your little breeding whore, dump your cum inside me, want all of it, want all of it so fucking bad!” You whimper as Frankie’s sweet kisses on your jawline turn into nasty nips at your neck, the kind that will flush with dark pigments by tomorrow morning.

Your hips ache, your body is trembling before him, but he looks so fucking sexy worked up like this. He’s promising with his body that he’s going to make you the mother of his children.

“Want you so bad momma, m’gonna watch your tits get so fuckin’ big,” he murmurs before his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, slathering it with his spit and swirling around your nub with his perfect tongue. The oversensitivity is so much, you’re so full, he’s going to make you cum before he can even finish off his own load.

“Fuck,” he moans lowly, a deep grunt releasing from the depths of his throat. “Gonna make such a perfect momma, gonna knock you up so hard, baby,” Frankie groans as he tugs gently at your nipple between his teeth.

The spark in your stomach suddenly explodes, pushing you over the edge. You wrap your arms around his neck and press his forehead against your own. “Come with me,” you beg, just above a whisper as each thrust he makes is punching the air from your lungs.

You pace yourself just for him. The faster he moves his fingers around your clit, the closer he is. Overstimulated tears well up in your eyes, your jaw dropping wide as you look at him like he is a God. Frankie’s thrusts were growing sloppy with need, losing their rhythm, your man was so close. Finally, like a dangerous volcano, he erupts inside of you as your walls pulse around him. Both of you come in unison, blasting you with a hot heat across your body.

You cry out, and Frankie moans loudly into the living room, hearing your name echo along the walls as his hips still momentarily inside you. His warm cum spurts and paints your walls, shooting off multiple times. It’s the hardest he’s ever finished, he’s so deep and filling you to the brim with his white hot seed.

Lost in a cloud of lust, you think you melt into the floor. His arms shake as he holds himself up by the forearms placed on either side of your head, your sweaty foreheads glistening. Your bodies feel like one.

With a shaky hand, you reach up and gently brush the hair out of his eyes. Frankie weakly smiles and leans down to press a messy kiss on your lips. You hum softly and keep him there, whimpering as his hips twitch a few final times before he completely stills. You were seeing stars behind your vision as Frankie soothingly brought you back down to Earth. You were so happy.

“I love you.” He whispers as he presses one last kiss to your mouth, watching your hazy eyes fill with love as he slowly sits up.

Both of your sweaty bodies peel off of one another, and you hum lowly as he starts to pull himself out.

Frankie watches in lust-filled amazement as your hole leaks dribbles of his cum.

He shakes his head with a disapproving hum, parting your legs once more to see his mess, gently using his fingers to push his cum back into your hole.

You nip at your lower lip, watching as Frankie stares at you like he’s hypnotized, making sure every little drop stays inside of you.

“Such a good girl for me, momma, keepin’ all my good cum inside you, that’s it,” he hums, finally letting your legs go as he tumbles onto his back beside you on the floor.

His hand holds yours as you stare at the ceiling in bliss.

“We’re trying for a baby.” He whispers with an indescribable amount of happiness.

You nod as you snuggle into his side, feeling his strong arm wrap around your shoulders to keep you close to him. “We’re trying for a baby.” You repeat back to him, your fingers gently weaving through his dense dark chest hair.

“I have a name for the baby.” He murmurs, fantasizing about your future together already.

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“Frankie Jr.”

“No.” You quickly cut off.

Both of your heads fall back in laughter, feeling so secure next to your best friend who has promised you a family and a future, all laced with love. And for that, you were hopeful for the New Year.

#12 Days of Pedro #frankie morales #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x reader #fuck yeah frankie #francisco morales #catfish morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales #pedro pascal

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noroi1000 · 1 year

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I have a spicy request it a Gojo & Geto and short wife reader. One day Geto and Gojo found this cursed items that make a person answer any questions honest and truthfully no matter. So they decided to test it on y/n and they ask y/n rather spicy question at that. Thinking she give a them a innocent answer because they think she is too innocent to have such dirty thoughts but instead they get the opposite of it. The question is what your dirty fantasy? Y/n said it is to be double penetration in one aka she wants both of their dick inside of her pussy. Breeding her like crazy until she gets pregnant and she wants their baby’s . She wants them to cum in her like their animals in mating season. She wanted them cum so much that you think their got poison in somehow and they are cum out. She want her pussy to be sore and abused from them breeding attempts. She wants to be cover in their cum from head to toe and inside and outside. Let say after hearing that. Both Gojo and Geto decided to be good husbands and help their little wife fantasy 😉 😏

Perverted Truth

Paring: Husband Gojo & Husband Geto x Innocent Wife reader

Words: 2,3k

Summary: Your husbands put a cursed belt on you that makes you tell nothing but the truth. To see if it works, they ask you about the most perverted things. When they find out that their innocent wife has such fantasies, they decide to make it come true.

Warnings: Smut (hard fucking, two cocks in pussy, deep throat, sperm eating, balls licking)

"Are you sure it's safe?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Satoru, any cursed item can be dangerous. I don't understand why you took it from the warehouse without permission."

"Suguru, nobody uses it. So what is it there for? We'll make use of it~." He said with a triumphant smile.

"What do you want to do?" He asked standing next to him.

"We'll put this cursed little belt on our sweet wife~. And ask her some questions~."

When they got home, it was quiet most of the time.

Gojo took care that no one would see that he had taken this item. And Geto didn't even want to know what he wanted to ask you.

Well, that could be useful if they were unsure if you loved them. However, you certainly love them. After all, you have two of them as husbands!

You certainly don't have any lover because you're too innocent to do that.

You are so small and lovely to them. They meet all your needs, so why should you have anyone other than them?

But he had to know...

He didn't want his white-haired friend, whose wife you are also, to ask you any hurtful question.

"What questions are you going to ask her?" he asked suddenly.

"Huh?"

"You know what you want to ask her?"

"Hmm... I was thinking of asking her which of us she prefers more..."

"You've gone crazy, haven't you?"

This can hurt you because later you'll be sad when one of them gets mad at you.

"But I know she'll say she loves us just the same." He said looking around. Looking for inspiration.

Until suddenly he looked at his pants, knowing that between his legs he had a dick.

He smiled.

"I'd love to hear her talk about what she thinks about our dicks." he laughed, sending a perverted smile to his friend.

"Do you really want to ask her that?"

"Maybe she'll blush too, but even because she's innocent there must be something she thinks about our dicks."

If Geto hadn't been driving, he probably would have hit him.

But still, he wanted to know too...

To see your cute face when you say something about their lengths...

"I would ask about her sexual fantasies. What she would like to do and what she is thinking about." Geto said as a smile appeared on his lips.

"Dirty thoughts, huh?" he laughed. "That's a good plan. Even though we can't expect anything like BDSM or millions of toys, and probably nothing spicy. After all, our little wife is so cute and innocent~."

"I think she's thinking something like she can suck us both while she's kneeling in front of us. Or long hours of slow, intense sex."

"Hmm... Dirty but gentle. However, it's all her. She falls apart when one of us fucks her. She is so tiny! I don't know if she ever thought of something like we both fuck her at the same time. Her pussy is tight, her ass is tight. We barely fit in. And her body is so cute." Gojo laughed as he watched the passing trees. "I'm curious what she'll say. Even if it's probably not something strong."

"But her innocence is adorable." The dark haired man added.

"So fucking adorable. Even so, I want to hear something lecherous fall from her mouth. But I don't think we'll get a dirty answer anyway. She's too sweet and innocent."

But it was worth testing you.

"T-Toru, what is it?” you asked as a thin strap that was almost like a collar was fastened around your neck. However, you didn't know why they put it on.

"What I should do now? Ah, this is a belt that will allow us to ask you any question and you will answer honestly, honestly, without any lies." Satoru said.

"What?" you asked, grabbing belt. It looked a bit older.

Cursed item?

"You do not have to worry. We just want to ask you a few not-so-important questions." Suguru said, reassuring you.

"You love us?"

Before you could answer as you wanted, your lips started to move involuntarily.

"I love you." you said.

You covered your mouth. You didn't say it with your will.

So it works?

This response was very fast, and even robotic. It's like it's hardwired into you.

"Oh? It works, Suguru. I think..."

"Let's ask another question to make sure... Which of us do you love more?"

Your lips moved involuntarily again.

"I love you both the same. You are the most important to me."

"I still don't believe..." said the dark haired one looking at you.

Even though it sounded different from what you say, you would answer the same.

"Let's start with something else. Whose cock do you prefer?" He smirked as he looked at you with his blue eyes.

They've pushed you into deep water now.

You would always avoid that answer because it's too embarrassing.

But your mouth opened.

So it really works.

"I like both dicks. I can not choose."

They both smiled suddenly as you blushed.

"What do you think about our dicks? Are we destroying your little pussy?" he asked with a smile on his face while Geto stood by, thinking what next question to ask.

"I like your dicks. They're both so big. Every time we have sex you destroy my pussy so much."

Their smiles were dark.

When you say that, it means that you mean it.

Maybe their little innocent wife wasn't as innocent as they thought?

"ooh? I didn't expect you to have such dirty thoughts. Tell us more." Suguru said as he put his wedding ring to his face, kissing it for you to see clearly.

"What are your fantasies? Your dirtiest fantasy?"

"That you both fuck my pussy at the same time."

You saw them smiling.

Your face was so red.

"Something else?"

"That we both breed my pussy until I'm pregnant with your children. That you cum inside me so much and often. I want my pussy bruised and sore from how hard you fuck me when you use me for breeding. I want to be covered in your cum from head to toe, inside and out. Feeling your cum run down my body and out of my pussy while you continue to fuck me."

Their eyes widened when they heard that. You noticed that their ears turned red.

And when you looked at their pants, you saw bulges forming.

"Wow...that was..." Suguru started but stopped, covering his growing smile with his hand.

"It was so lascivious, baby~." Finished Gojo, openly showing his satisfaction.

He began to take off his sorcerer's uniform.

When Geto got a signal from him, he did the same.

And clearly showed his smile too.

"So you want us to breed that little pussy?" Suguru asked.

And the thing around your neck told you to tell the truth.

"I really want this." You said.

And when they both approached you without their shirts on, you protested.

"W-Wait! N-Now?!!"

Then your shirt was torn. The fabric lay in tatters next to your legs.

"We didn't know you wanted to fuck so hard. But now that we know, we'll make your fantasy come true. Have you thought about fucking in the throat as well? I'd like to pour my cum on your face..."

"Yes." You replied and tugged on belt to take it off.

"Here." Suguru took it off you and threw it on the floor.

Just like your bra.

He picked you up as Satoru started sucking on your nipples.

You went to the bedroom as fast as you could.

If you knew, you'd put foil on the bed.

Of course, if you knew your sex tonight would be wet play.

Because it was very wet.

You were supposed to stretch before they fucked you.

That's why you were lying there at their behest, with the toy working deep inside your pussy.

Two orgasms left the bed beneath you wet. And it wasn't a pleasant feeling.

Saliva and tears ran down your face as your husbands fucked your throat until they both came down your esophagus.

You swallowed all of Satoru's cum hard. And then they made you sit down with Suguru's cum in your mouth and let it all out.

And then they happily watched your red face as you opened your mouth, letting a waterfall of semen flow down your chin.

A white thick fluid has covered your neck, flowing down your chest. Some drops even on your tummy.

What was left in your mouth, you swallowed.

You felt your stomach fill with the amount of their cum.

And that was just the beginning.

One of them fucked you first. Bringing you to two more orgasms as you squirted on them and on the bed.

You were oversensitive.

Suguru fucked you for the next few minutes before he came, squirting all over your belly and covering your clitoris with sperm.

As they switched so Geto could rest for a while and get ready for the next round, Gojo started fucking you.

With another orgasm, you felt your clitoris throbbing as the pleasure began to ache.

Even though they often fuck you in turn, it was your fifth orgasm.

God, that was so good... That's what you were thinking. Will they agree to this?

You felt the semen flowing all over your body.

Before he came, Satoru stretched out and smeared Geto's semen on your clit with the tip.

"You look so pretty covered in our cum~." He moaned before coming, covering your thighs white and stuffing the rest into your pussy.

You were exhausted by the time it happened. Sweat, tears, saliva, your arousal and their cum ran down your body.

At least they gave you a break.

You lay there with your thighs shaking as Satoru struggled looking at the sight of your exhausted body. To quickly get your erection back to continue.

You were wondering how much sperm they still have.

They usually come so much...

And now they were both on a mission for several days. So you didn't have sex.

Which just meant there was enough sperm in their balls to pour it on you.

"How soon do you think you'll be hard?" Geto asked, watching Gojo come off his high. And he started massaging his half-hard cock, looking at your tired body.

"One sec. Put your dick on her face and it will be even faster..." He moaned laughing.

What a friend he could have been if he hadn't.

His thighs appeared behind your head, and he placed his hard length against your face.

Wanting it (but not admitting it), you moved closer, enjoying the way he held your head higher as you kissed his balls.

Enjoying the way his cock bounced when you did.

"Will you do the same to me?" Satoru asked, walking over to you and placing his balls on your lips as he regained his hardness.

You opened your mouth, sucking on the soft skin, watching him smile with pleasure.

You placed your hands on their inner thighs, feeling the muscles.

Before you knew it, Suguru left a drop of precum on your lips and then they both pulled away.

Satoru placed you on Suguru's chest as he reached for his length, shoving it inside you.

It wasn't the first time he touched Geto's cock.

In fact, they were both shameless.

Satoru was able to sit between the two of you on the couch and start fucking you with his fingers or massaging your clit as he massaged Suguru's cock.

In return, you and he could massage his cock.

You guess that at some point your sex will take you to other heights. And they'll fuck each other as they fuck you too.

But for now, they will fulfill your fantasy.

Good thing you didn't have to tell them you had another fantasy now...

You were distracted, so you didn't feel the initial pain as Satoru's cock dilated you even more.

You thought you'd break.

"Such a small pussy... So tight... But you take the second cock so well. Just... Take it easy... That's right..." said Satoru as his pubic bone touched your clitoris and Suguru's sperm stuck to his pubic hair.

You thought you passed out because when you woke up they were already moving inside of you. And you couldn't make a sound other than moans and cries and screams.

It didn't hurt. But watching two big cocks disappear inside your pussy is something unbelievable. It's something that would never fit inside of you. However, they adjusted it.

Satoru's thighs glistened with semen and your juices. And you guess it's the same with Suguru when he was lying under you.

You probably came on top of them, covering them with your fluids and passed out.

It all just made them laugh.

Your pussy was bruised from their blows. Every touch of his body against yours was painful. Your lower lips ached, but each time they entered you, it washed over you with pleasure.

Both hot freaks kissed your womb, only asking you to be filled to the brim with their cum.

Until your belly gets round from the amount of their cum, and then you're pregnant with their babies.

They would do anything to get one of your cells fertilized by Satoru and the other by Suguru.

And the more often and longer they fuck you, that might be possible. If it works out somehow.

If there are curses in this world, such cases must also happen.

Your words were gibberish as they both pressed against you, holding their lengths inside you as they shot cum into your womb.

Warming up your core even more.

"We'll breed you until there's not a drop of sperm in our balls. And tomorrow we start all over again."

#jjk geto #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jujustu kaisen #gojo x reader #geto suguru #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #geto smut #gojo x reader x geto

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mistydeyes · 5 months

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just a cute little moment with ghost i was hoping u could write pls 🤭

imagine simon being gone on a mission and your house was feeling so empty and lonely.

So..... you decide to adopt a dog from the shelter to mend your loneliness and waited to surprise him with the new addition to the riley family!

On the other hand, Simon felt terrible for leaving you for months on end. To keep you company and protected, he brings home *drum roll pls*

another dog!!

The look on both of your faces when he comes through the door with dog in his arms and you with a little pup on your lap already 😭😭

(hope this isn't confusing lmao)

AHHH this is so cute and precious! love simon being a dog person fr fr

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: With Simon gone on some unknown mission, you decide to welcome a new member to the family. However, despite how much you love the friendly little guy, Simon has other ideas on pets.

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

warnings: none :)

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

"Hi, Simon," you smiled through the phone. "Hello, love, how are you?" he asked and you relaxed into the plush blanket on the couch. "Mhmm, same old, same old," you said, trailing off towards the end as if you had something to hide, "but how have you been, haven't heard any updates." You bit your lip as the line went quiet for a moment, you kicked your feet slightly in anticipation. "Something you want to talk about? Sorry, it's been a while since we've gotten stable service," he said, a soft kindness in his whisper. Before you could reply, a soft bark resounded through your shared flat as a car drove down your lane. "What was that?" Simon asked suddenly, "Someone's dog get loose?" As your newest and surprise addition to the Riley family came running to your side, you struggled to hold the phone and settle him down with soft pats and belly rubs. You hadn't intentionally wanted to adopt a dog without Simon but something about the young pup at the local adoption center made your heart melt. Plus you were no stranger to managing a new pet. However, your failure to answer gave Simon a full assumption as to the current state of your home.

"Did-did you adopt a dog?" he asked almost holding his breath, "please, just tell me." With that, the secret was out and you silently cursed your all too observational fiancé. "I'm sorry," you blurted out, "it's just too lonely without you here and you know how the colder seasons make me feel." You tried to calm your excuses by cuddling up to your big-eyed, gentle Golden Shepherd but were immediately off put by the sudden laugh filling your ears from the other line. "Please tell me it's at least a guard dog breed," he said between laughs and you felt your held breath relax. "Um you could say that," you replied as you smiled down to the bundle of fur curled up to your side, "he can be menacing at times." "To the mail carrier or actual intruders?" he joked a slight hint of sarcasm on his tongue. "I'll send you a photo so you can judge for yourself," you huffed but before the conversation could continue any further, you heard the call suddenly drop.

You pouted a bit as you looked down at Bones, your newest companion for the coming months. "Smile for your dad," you said happily before sending the picture off to Simon to see eventually. At the end of the week, your phone dinged with an incoming message. "golden shepherds are not guard dogs." it said simply and you were sure to spam him with more photos of you and Bones' latest adventures.

You lazily lounged around the flat as you looked at your phone's calendar. Simon's mission had been extended 6 more months from his initial departure date and since that update, you had heard little since. You put down your phone dejectedly before filling up Bones' bowl of food and water. As you turned with the bowl in hand, you practically jumped when the door knob turned. Bones ran towards it rapidly as you chased after him, nearly colliding with your kitchen island. "Easy now," you commanded sharply, pulling him by his collar. "Guess he is a guard dog after all," a familiar voice spoke and your eyes met with Simon's. You immediately jumped to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he levied a cardboard box into his other arm. As you reunited after many long months, you were monetarily blinded to the small bundle of fur peeking out from the top. "What's this, Simon?" you asked as you paused your barrage of kisses. "Look for yourself," he smirked, putting the box in your hand. Inside, a small Belgian Malinois began to lick your face. As you laughed giddily at the affections, Simon led you to the couch with Bones following cautiously. "Since you don't have much of a scary one here," he said pausing to pat Bones on the head, "thought he and you could use a companion." You nodded as you put the small puppy in your lap. "Well now that we have two children," you said turning to him, "you better be staying for a while now, Riley."

#task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #izzie is drawing #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #mw2 imagine #madebyizzie #mw2 #izzie is writing

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hush-writes-preg · 6 months

Text

Spooky Season Day #22

Summary: [Dominant AFAB reader] A classic werewolf attack (and breeding) with a twist-- sometimes even a werewolf will bite off more than it can chew. Wordcount: 1,760

Themes: Werewolf breeding, werewolf pregnancy, nonhuman pregnancy, outdoor sex, dominant pregnant individual

You started your day searching for wood, but apparently the universe had a weird sense of humor, because it gave you something else entirely.

The forest just outside your tiny village held plenty of firewood, but few dared to venture far into its dark, imposing depths. Hushed stories spoke of faeries and monsters and all sorts of fantastical beasts just waiting to snap up a distracted traveler. Even hunters shied away from it, no matter how lean times got, unwilling to risk their lives to the unknown.

You, however, didn't care much for such campfire stories. You could handle yourself. You might be short and wiry, but the years you'd spent working the farm with your father and brothers had honed the feminine form you'd been born with into one just as rugged and masculine as theirs. You'd proven yourself through many a rough-and-tumble brawl with the other village boys, too. Nobody would guess from a simple glance that your clothing hid secrets.

And you preferred it that way.

You'd gathered half a load of wood when you heard the crunch of a twig snapping somewhere behind you. You didn't react, for you'd been listening to whatever-it-was for some time. Something dogged your heels, something quick and quiet and following you with the ruthless persistence of a predator, but you didn't feel fear. If anything, the prospect of a good fight left your nerves humming with anticipation.

Leaves shifted. The faint chitter of birdsong quieted.

Your fingers tightened around your axe as you subtly shifted your weight, ready for whatever might come.

The first blow came at your right shoulder, but your stalker hadn't expected you to be prepared when it finally pounced.

The two of you tumbled across the forest floor, grappling for dominance in a heated dance that could mean the difference between life and death. Claws tore at your clothes, and wicked teeth snapped inches from your fragile human skin, but you gave as good as you received, blocking the worst of its attacks with the haft of your axe and landing a few blows of your own.

In retrospect, you probably shouldn't have won that fight. The creature stood over a head taller than you, its body heavily corded with muscle, but you moved with an agility that it couldn't hope to match. So when the blade of your axe somehow found the vulnerable curve of its throat, it had no choice but to freeze.

Straddling the beast's hips, you stared down at the creature beneath you, your panting breaths meeting its faint growls in a harsh melody. The burning heat of its curse-twisted form leeched into your thighs. You could feel it flex its powerful body, testing your weight and the sharpness of your weapon. It was large and furry, and reeked of a unique combination of fresh sweat and musk that made something jolt in your gut.

A werewolf.

You've subdued a freaking werewolf.

You should have been terrified, yet you couldn't draw your eyes away from the fearsome creature.

The werewolf stared back, its dark gaze fathomless above a long, furred snout. Its black nose twitched with an obvious inhale.

Then its eyes narrowed.

"What, didn't think you could be bettered, pup?" you sneered, leaning more of your weight against your blade. "Just because you're a little fuzzy doesn't mean I'm gonna take one look at you and run off like a spooked fawn."

A curious shudder vibrated through the creature's body even as it snarled, its dagger-like teeth bared in obvious threat.

No, not it. He.

For the furry sheath pressed intimately against your groin began to twitch and swell as you watched, revealing a hint of something red at the tip.

Your breath caught in your throat. The feral masculinity of the creature at your mercy sparked a strange heat in your belly, a kind you couldn't recall ever feeling before. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of your attacker's arousal, and you didn't think that was normal. "Like that, did you?" You impulsively rocked your hips, rubbing yourself teasingly against him. "It's always the big, bad boys who secretly wanna be pinned down."

The werewolf's lips curled back, venom in its gaze, but the shaft nudging against your crotch jerked.

Fuck, the friction felt good.

You shouldn't want it, but the thought of taking that thick, alien cock inside of you left sent a surge of liquid heat through your core.

Your trousers were already torn from the earlier scuffle, and it wouldn't take much effort at all to shift the homespun fabric a little to the side and–

"Fertile." A single word somehow forced its way from a jaw not intended for speech, low and gravely and barely intelligible. The werewolf's long tongue lapped at its lips before it inhaled again, a whine rising from its throat.

Fertile.

You glanced down at the flat plane of your belly, towards the womb hidden just out of sight. Could the werewolf smell the arousal heating your blood? Or did it scent something else?

"Smell something you like, pup?" You rubbed yourself against him again, not bothering to hide the smirk on your face as you took advantage of his helplessness. "What makes you think you can just ambush someone in the woods and take what you want without asking? Maybe you need a taste of your own medicine."

The werewolf growled again, a line of drool glistening on its muzzle. Those dark eyes remained narrowed in anger, but something feral burned there, too, something that threatened to engulf you. A fur-covered Adam's apple bobbed in its throat while the engorged shaft between its legs rose to full, glorious mast.

Gods above and below. It wanted this as much as you did!

"Tell you what. You lay there nice and still like a good boy, and I'll take what I want. And maybe you'll get your rocks off along the way. Deal?"

That long tongue slipped out again, as much a nervous tic as it was a sign of anticipation, just before your subdued monster gave the very faintest of nods.

One hand continued holding the head of the axe to its throat while the other groped blindly between your legs, shifting just enough fabric aside to clear the way to your dripping hole. You weren't about to risk removing your trousers for this. Besides, the thought of mounting it mostly clothed only made your lust burn hotter. You unwaveringly held the werewolf's gaze as you guided the bright red head to your entrance, your breath hitching at the first nudge. "Stay," you ordered.

And just like that, you sank down.

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck oh fuck.

You've had a few lovers in your time, but none of them filled you as thoroughly as this bad-tempered beast. The work-toned muscles of your powerful thighs flexed like steel rope every time you lifted yourself almost free, only to impale yourself again with a pleasured grunt.

But the werewolf wasn't a lover– no, it was nothing but a toy in this moment, and a hell of one at that.

The thick, inhuman shaft stretching you out nearly made your eyes roll back in your head. Already the juices of your need ran slick between your thighs and dampened the creature's fur. For its part, the werewolf remained mostly still, though its clawed fingers flexed and dug deep furrows in the earth beneath it every time you ground down on its cock. Gasping, cursing, groaning, you rode your deadly plaything into the damp fall leaves, never taking your eyes off him.

"Damn, you feel good," you muttered, tossing the hair out of your eyes. "Got a nice cock for a monster. Bet you didn't expect this to happen when you jumped me, did you?"

The werewolf's hips jolted up in spite of the threat at its neck, driving it roughly into your eager body. "Smelled you," it rasped, the sound edged in a whine. "Needed it."

It smelled you?

What was that supposed to mean?

You shoved your axe even harder against the creature's neck, slicing away fur and pressing metal to bare skin. "Shut up," you huffed, clenching your hole around it. "Don't wanna hear you while I'm getting off, you mangy mutt."

And surprisingly, it obeyed. Fur lay thick and coarse beneath your fingers as you exploited your attacker's lust for your own benefit, roughly pounding your greedy hole with its rock-hard shaft. It felt like you couldn't get enough, like you might just expire if you couldn't reach your peak. Something about the feel of the werewolf, the scent of it, the danger of its teeth and claws-- it all wound your desire tighter and tighter, like an overcoiled spring.

It was too much. You couldn't hold back your sounds of pleasure any longer.

"Fuck, I need more," you hissed, your grip on the axe faltering and your bound chest heaving as you bared your human teeth at the werewolf. "Make me come, you flea-bitten cur!"

Maybe it was luck. Maybe it was fate. Or maybe you'd truly made the werewolf your bitch. But instead of taking advantage of your faltering attention, the creature began snapping its pelvis forward with punishing force. A strange bulge at the base of its cock, one that you'd only just noticed, demanded entrance. You weren't sure you could take it, but your hole seemed eager enough to try and swallow it up.

Your voice rose to the sky, filled with a fierce, wordless hunger that ached to be sated.

An unearthly howl answered from the beast between your legs.

And suddenly, the knot forced its way inside of you, and your entire world shattered.

You eventually made it home that day with your firewood, a sore groin, and a belly full of werewolf seed.

Its knot kept you tied up a bit longer than expected, but in time, you managed to pull free, unleashing a torrent of warm, sticky fluid down the inside of your trousers. The two of you scrambled apart afterward in an uneasy, unspoken truce, sharing a heated look that spoke volumes before the werewolf bounded back into the forest.

Months passed, yet you never forgot that day, nor the feel of that deadly predator moving between your thighs. Especially once you finally realized what the beast had meant when growling about you being 'fertile'.

The next time you entered the forest, your tunic stretched over a belly swollen with werewolf pups. And the 'wood' you craved wouldn't come from any tree.

(A Spooky Season story.)

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redskyvenus · 6 months

Text

𝐒𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐘 ⟡ TOJI FUSHIGURO

pairing: vampire! toji x afab! reader | wc: 4.2k

synopsis: moving in with a wealthy family in their mansion for your new job, but nothing is as it seems. the house is haunted by a family curse and a mysterious blood-lusted creature

warnings: biting, blood drinking, breeding kink, creampie, cunnilingus, degradation, fingering, marking, oral sex (f+m receiving), pet names (princess, sweetheart, my beloved), porn with plot, praise kink, rough sex, spit, vampire AU, unprotected sex

a/n: it’s finally here, my vampire Toji fic inspired by the movie “Dark Shadows”. reblogs and comments are always appreciated. happy spooky season! 🎃

tags: @rookie98writes @sukunassuka @zorosdimples

masterlist

It is said that blood is thicker than water. It is what defines us. Binds us. Curses us.

Seated in the crowded train on a rainy day in the middle of October, you were on your way to Sintra.

You had left the ghosts of your past behind and embarked on a fresh journey as a governess for an affluent family, their mansion being just thirty kilometers outside of Lisbon. Fortunately, the proximity to the city provided some comfort in case things didn’t work out.

Your thoughts were racing through your head at a thousand kilometers per hour. Staring at your reflection in the window, the final stop announcement blared through the speakers.

Stepping outside on the train platform, holding your heavy black suitcase, you felt the cold air breeze through your cardigan. You quickly walked towards the exit of the station and picked up a taxi, headed towards your new home.

As you neared the forested gate, you tried to focus on the flowers that covered the entrance in a desperate attempt to soothe your nerves.

Everything will be okay.

You exhaled deeply as you opened the large metal fence and started walking towards the estate. An ominous feeling made your stomach turn, but you refused to let it overpower you.

Earthy scents from the wet trees that surrounded you filled your nostrils, the smells reminding you of your childhood home before your parents decided to relocate to the city. Despite the chill in the air on this particular day, you welcomed it, as autumn had always been your favorite season.

You’d finally arrived at the gigantic mansion–a stunning Gothic-styled house dating back to the late 1700s–some parts slightly covered in thorns. The garden appeared neglected and overgrown with vines that sent chills down your spine.

Startled by the unexpected cawing of passing crows, the entire scene truly resembled a scene straight from a scary vampire novel and it left you pondering about the history of this place.

Your body tensed up as you felt the adrenaline rush through your veins, following the path to the main building. You put your suitcase down, heart leaping momentarily, as you knocked on the heavy stale door.

The front door opened quicker than you had anticipated, and a white-haired man emerged from the doorway looking you up and down.

“Hello–” you spoke with a slightly forced smile on your face. “My name is Y/N.”

The tall man stared at you in silence. “Congratulations?” he said sarcastically with a bored expression.

“I’m here for the governess position?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“Right. Of course, my apologies—we’ve been expecting you, please follow me.” He stepped away and glanced at the suitcase on the ground before turning around and walking away,

Great. Certainly not the first man I’ve come across that lacks manners, you thought before you picked up your bag.

The mansion's exterior was impressive, but the interior surpassed all expectations. Tiled floors stretched out before you, and grand staircases led deeper into the building, adorned with velvety curtains concealing the stained-glass windows.

You couldn’t contain your excitement. “This is stunning,” you remarked, admiring all the intricate details.

“I suppose,” the man mumbled while glancing around with the most uninterested facial expression. “It’s an absolute pain in the ass to clean.”

“I’m not surprised,” you whispered.

“A house this immense requires a hundred heads for staff. Instead, the staff is.. me,” pointing to himself and rolling his eyes. “Miss Maki can be quite demanding.”

“I must admit, it’s not common for a family to own a house like this”, you said, trying to stay positive.

“This house has been in the Zen’in family for generations.”

Your gaze fell on the wall of paintings that were behind the white-haired man. Getting closer, it was a huge portrait of a young man grinning proudly, possibly in his early to mid-twenties, with black spiky hair, and a scar on the right corner of his lip.

“Who’s that?” you asked, eyes never leaving the painting.

“Tokimi? Tomo? Some To-dude,” the man replied. “I’ve never met the man—but he’s Megumi’s father—he passed away some years ago.”

“His name is Toji,” echoed a feminine voice suddenly, startling you and the snow-white-haired man.

You turned your head and looked towards the staircase. At the top of the stairwell stood a woman in a tight black dress, dark emerald hair tied up in a flawless high ponytail.

“He was my cousin, truly a fascinating and kindhearted human. We still miss him dearly,” she continued as she began walking down the stairs, stilettos reverberating loudly against the uncarpeted wood.

“Hello, miss,” she said with a pretentious smile. “Welcome to our residence. I’m Maki Zen’in—it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“My name is Y/N. Please, the pleasure is all mine.”

Guiding you up the stairs and into a spacious office area, she gestured to you to take a seat. Maki remained standing up, looking you up and down through her glasses intricately.

“My apologies,” she finally said, smiling again. “That was Satoru Gojo you just met. He was supposed to pick you up from the train station, but unfortunately, our car is out of service. I’m glad to see you managed to get here without any issues.”

“No need to worry; the breathtaking views made it all worthwhile,” you responded.

"I suppose I should share a bit about our family," Maki began, taking a seat. "The Zen'in family held considerable strength and influence in the past—we're even named after them. But these days, only two of us remain."

"It's me and my nephew, Megumi. There's also Doctor Ieri Shoko and Satoru, the handyman. That's pretty much it."

With growing curiosity, you inquired, "What about Megumi's parents, if you don't mind me asking?"

Maki sighed, gently twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "His parents were killed in a car crash. We took him under our wing, but he hasn't been the same since. He's been through a lot, that poor boy. Doctor Shoko came here to help him out for a couple of months." Her tired smile conveyed all the necessary details.

“That was two years ago...”

Silence fell between the two of you before her voice filled up the room again—trying to lift the heavy atmosphere.

“We’re very glad you decided to apply for the governess application, I think we’re going to get along very well, miss Y/N,” Maki said before putting out her hand for a handshake.

Following the brief conversation, Maki decided it would be a good idea to show you around the premises. You were thankful because the mansion’s blueprint seemed rather complicated and without a tour from the owner first, you would definitely find yourself lost.

The both of you wandered down the big hallway and she swung open one of the massive doors to reveal one of the most grandeur guest rooms you had ever seen in your entire life.

The room was enriched with damask wallpaper in sophisticated patterns. Against the burgundy walls stood a four-poster bed with intricately carved ebony wood, and the glass-stained windows were adorned with heavy, velvet drapes—they opened up to a balcony overlooking the estate's lush gardens.

A chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting flickering candlelight across the room and enhancing the ambiance. The room was completed with vintage mirrors and a dark, hardwood floor adorned with intricately woven Persian rugs.

Maki proudly declared, "This will be your new bedroom, I hope it suits your preferences. The previous governesses have also resided in this room."

You were truly captivated by every aspect of this mansion. “It’s absolutely perfect, I’m at a loss for words to fully convey the beauty of your home” you chuckled.

The grand tour continued as you explored the rest of the mansion, each room unveiling its own unique charm and mysteries, and your new life as a governess in the Zen'in family mansion began to unfold.

During the first few nights since your arrival, you started experiencing terrifying visions.

You found yourself standing in a graveyard surrounded by a faceless spirit—cautioning you about a malevolent presence haunting the grounds of the forested area.

“He’s coming….”

You awoke, drenched in sweat, thinking it was just another nightmare, but the heavy thunderstorm and the sight of blood splatters on the walls left you paralyzed in fear. Fumbling for the small lamp on your nightstand, bathing the space in a soft, reassuring glow.

With trembling hands, you examined the crimson patterns on the wall, and in the dim light they began to morph into something less sinister. What appeared to be blood spatters now resembled nothing more than the irregular patterns of the aging wallpaper.

Your breath steadied as you realized that it was your overactive imagination that had woven these fears into the fabric of your surroundings. Still, the sense of foreboding lingered, the haunting voice of the spirit echoing in your mind.

Amid the gentle, rhythmic lullaby of the rain and the distant rumble of thunder, you gradually drifted back into a profound slumber.

Unbeknownst to you, a tall silhouette suddenly appeared in the dimly lit corridor.

Only a few steps removed, he observed you, noting the gentle rhythm of your chest rising and falling. For the past few nights he had been lurking, fiercely captivated by your beauty.

As he entered the room, the air instantly grew colder, jolting your body awake. You let out an agonizing scream but he swiftly grabbed you, rough hand stifling your voice.

“Who the hell are you?” you muffled into his palm. His bloodshot eyes were piercing into your soul, but he slowly removed his hand from your mouth, grip still firm on your body.

“Let go of me,” you shouted aggressively.

“Shh… Calm down, little girl—my name is Toji,” he spoke in a low baritone voice.

“Wh-what d-do you want from me?!” you stammered, trembling with fear.

He closed the distance between you, and your heart raced. Instincts telling you to run—but an irresistible force held you in place. His hand gently brushed a strand of your hair away from your neck, revealing the delicate curve of your throat.

Your pulse quickened, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. It was as though you were caught in a trance, unable to resist his magnetic charm.

A strange mixture of fear and desire welled up within you.

“No need to be frightened, beautiful—wouldn’t want to hurt you,” Toji's voice was eerily soothing, a contradiction to the circumstances, and his hand, though firm, no longer felt threatening.

In the dim light, you could see the impenetrable smile that played on his lips. His touch on your skin was strangely electrifying, sending shivers down your spine.

"There’s something unusual about you, you remind me of someone I once loved," he whispered with seductive allure.

A moment passed, suspended in an otherworldly tension where you were caged by Toji's presence. His fingers continued to trace the curve of your throat as he gazed into your eyes with a longing that defied explanation. It was as though he had been searching for you, a connection that ran deeper than you could comprehend.

But just as you felt your defenses weakening, a peculiar shift in the room's atmosphere heralded a sudden change. The cold air thickened, and Toji's grip on you faltered for the briefest of moments. Confusion briefly danced in his crimson eyes, and then he vanished, like an illusion dissipating into the night.

As he did, his voice, now distant, reached your ears one last time. "I will find you again, my beloved."

And in the blink of an eye, he was gone, leaving you alone in your room, shrouded in darkness, and gasping for the air you hadn't realized you'd been holding. The room returned to its former stillness, and the storm outside rumbled on, the rain providing a ghostly backdrop to the mysterious encounter that had just unfolded.

Confusion and curiosity wrestled within you, and you were left to grasp the unsettling mystery of Toji's visitation and the inexplicable connection that bound you to a man who seemed beyond your understanding.

The following morning you were seated at the colossal dining room table with Maki and Satoru in utter silence, trying to finish your pancakes.

“What’s on your mind? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Maki questioned.

You pushed the unsettling encounter from the previous night to the back of your mind, knowing that trying to explain it would sound utterly absurd. Instead, you offered a forced smile to Maki and Satoru—trying to appear as normal as possible.

"Oh, it's nothing," you replied, though the quiver in your voice was hard to hide. "I just had a strange dream, that's all."

Satoru raised an eyebrow, skeptical but willing to let the subject drop for now. Maki, on the other hand, seemed more perceptive. Her unwavering gaze locked onto you, and her penetrating hazel eyes appeared as if she saw right through your façade.

"Well, if you do need someone to talk to, just know we're here for you."

“Thank you, miss Maki.” You nodded appreciatively, though you weren't sure if you'd ever be able to put into words the peculiar encounter you had with Toji. Despite your best efforts, his words and his touch lingered in your memory, leaving you feeling both intrigued and fearful.

As night fell once more, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and dreading the possibility of another visitation from the enigmatic stranger. Your heart raced, and your thoughts swirled in a chaotic turmoil of fear and curiosity.

But the night passed without incident, and the days turned into weeks. You found yourself gradually growing more comfortable in the strange, old mansion that had become your home. Maki, Megumi, and Satoru had become like family, and the disturbing visions of the graveyard and Toji's unexpected visit began to feel like distant memories.

One evening, as you sat in the cozy library with a cup of tea, you overheard Maki and Satoru discussing the history of the mansion. Their voices were hushed, but your curiosity got the better of you, and you eavesdropped on their conversation.

"Have you told her about the history of this place and the disappearances of all the previous governesses?" Satoru questioned.

Maki sighed, her voice heavy with regret. "No, I haven't, Satoru—I wanted to spare her from the dark truth. But she needs to know."

You couldn't help but wonder what they were talking about. As they continued to speak, you learned that the mansion had a dark history, one that involved a family curse and the man from the portrait named Toji. The pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place, and you realized that your encounter with the tall stranger might be intricately connected to the mansion's past.

The next morning, you confronted Maki and Satoru about what you had overheard. They exchanged worried glances before finally deciding that it was time to reveal the mansion's secrets to you.

Sitting down in the same dining room, they began to tell you the haunting tale of the mansion and its tragic history. As the story unfolded, it became clear that Toji was not just a figment of your imagination but a key figure in the curse that had plagued the mansion for eons.

In 1860, the Zen’in family moved to Lisbon to expand the family empire and dedicate themselves to the fishing business. One year later, they were successful and the city of Sintra was raised in the place. Then, for fifteen years, Izumi and Chiyo Zen’in built their mansion.

Their servant Mirai had an unrequited love for their son Ryo who actually loved a woman named Hiromi. But Mirai was a powerful witch who cursed him and his entire bloodline, whenever the oldest son of the family suffered a tragic death they were turned into a vampire.

The cycle of history repeating itself in each new generation, culminated in the demise of every vampire at the hands of the town's inhabitants.

As you listened to the details of the curse and Toji's role in it, a chilling realization washed over you. The strange connection you felt with him, the inexplicable attraction, and his promise to find you again were all part of a curse that had bound your destiny to the enigmatic figure from the past.

The night had fallen, and you were lying in bed, thoughts still consumed by the revelations of the past weeks. Eyes heavy with drowsiness—your body on the brink of slipping into slumber—a sudden loud noise jolted you awake.

The earth had stopped spinning for a brief moment when you noticed the raven-haired man had appeared in your bedroom again.

“We finally meet again—my love,” he spoke softly before walking towards your bedside.

“Is breaking into my bedroom and startling me your way of trying to seduce me?” you retorted.

A smug smile curved his scarred lips as he fixed an intense gaze on you. “Perhaps I am—perhaps not. Is it affecting you?"

As his voice echoed through the room, you couldn't help but feel a mix of unease and fascination.

"What do you want from me, Toji?" you exclaimed.

“It has been quite a while since I have felt an irresistible desire like this—but I find myself yearning for you,” he said, crimson eyes still locked on you.

The deeper he spoke with that resonant voice, the more it ignited a fire within your core.

Gaze shifting from your face towards your lips; his one hand moved towards your face as it gently brushed your cheek. “Can I touch you everywhere?”

“Yes, please,” you replied eagerly.

Captivated by your beauty, fingers tracing your features, he whispered softly, “Can I kiss you anywhere?”

“Stop teasing me so much,” you started to plead.

Despite the fear that had initially gripped you, a strange, electric tension hung in the air. He whispered once more, “Can I taste you everywhere?”

"Toji…” you gasped, his name a barely audible whisper on your lips.

His smirk grew even further, and the tone in his voice changed, this time growing even more flirtatious and smooth. Slowly but surely, your fear was replaced by an intense wave of longing.

Something snapped inside of him too after hearing you say his name—he couldn’t resist you any longer.

He leaned in, and his kiss was fierce and possessive. It was as if the curse that bound your destinies together was demanding its fulfillment. The room seemed to fade away, and you were lost in the intensity of the moment.

You withdrew slightly and met his gaze. “You don’t have to be gentle, I want you to ruin me.”

His eyes turned darker, and a sinister grin intensified. “Are you sure about that, sweetheart? So eager already. Be careful what you wish for.”

“Y- Yes, I am…” you replied.

Not letting you utter another word, his lips pressed against your neck. Teeth gently brushing against your skin as his hand continued to trace your body.

With a sudden and purposeful motion, both of you were positioned at the open window, your back pressed against the balcony's railing. His figure now completely loomed over you, and your body temperature increased rapidly.

Toji leaned closer again, his breath caressing your ear. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?” As he spoke, his lips grazed your pulse point, and you could feel the sharp tips of his elongated canines running delicately along your veins.

There’s so many things that he could do to you—he wanted to indulge in every part of you—ruin you.

Heart thumping in your chest, the rush of adrenaline mixing with the undeniable attraction you felt for this charming vampire. You could no longer hide the strange and powerful pull he had over you, even as his teeth danced along your skin.

As the faint moonlight cast a soft glow upon your entwined forms, you stared up at him, and he kissed you again, this time more feverishly.

You moaned softly as his kisses on your neck trailed downward, halting just above your breasts.

More than a want, he needed you right here on this balcony.

Swiftly lowering the straps of your blue nightdress, the garment fell to the ground. He started covering your chest in little bruises and bite marks as rough, calloused fingers rubbed your hardened nipples.

“I will take such good care of you, I promise,” he cooed. Deep voice penetrating your skin; you’re almost completely bare, and he’s admiring every inch of your body. White lace panties pooled with your arousal, eagerly awaiting his touch.

Toji lowered his body and locked himself between your legs, slowly peeling off your panties and taking off his own shirt.

“Fuck. So wet for me already. Filthy slut’s desperate for me, huh?” Sucking on the soft skin of your inner thighs, his digits started massaging your folds.

Biting his scarred lips at the sight of your glistening cunt, he inserted one finger and quickly added another one.

Smugly watching his fingers disappear inside your cunt, he hit the sensitive spot repeatedly.

“You belong to me; look at you taking my fingers so well,” he said against your cunt, turning you into a whimpering mess as your legs started to tremble.

Slowly increasing his tempo, your lewd moans were so pretty, egging him on as he groaned against your plush thighs. With long fingernails digging into his broad, muscular shoulders, you chanted his name over and over again like a prayer.

“That’s it, baby. Such a good girl, cum for me,” he cooed.

Going above and beyond to please you, Toji latched onto your sensitive clit and started lapping at your folds like a starved man.

“Tojii– Fuck, feels too good. I- I’m gonna cum,” you cried out to him as he brought you to your toe-curling orgasm with his mouth and fingers.

Weak in the knees, you panted heavily as you tried to come down from your high. Toji lifted himself up, pulling you into him as he passionately kissed you again, his saliva mixing with your sweet juices. “You taste so good, princess,” he drawled.

Finally taking off his pants and boxers, he exposed his painfully throbbing, thick cock and started stroking it. Your mouth watered at the beautiful sight, and the intense urge to drop down on your knees took over your body.

Everything about Toji was big, and his dick was no exception.

“Go on, I know you’re desperate to taste it,” he grinned proudly.

Placing wet kisses over his massive length, he threw his head back and grabbed your hair to guide your movements. Caressing his pre-cum-covered tip, you started to lick long stripes from the head to his swollen balls, slowly taking the head of his cock inside.

“You better keep those pretty eyes on me while you suck it.” His breathing slowly grew erratic as you took the rest of his cock into your mouth and down your throat.

He squeezed your breasts as he praised you. “You look so beautiful like this.” Tongue swirling and swallowing around him, he started to thrust your mouth.

Tortured groans left his mouth as he made you gag and choke around the tip of his hardness. Tears started to fall, staining your cheeks, and saliva dripped down your chin.

Toji grabbed your face with one hand, holding your mouth still, and his other hand was now pumping the base of his cock.

“Open, now,” he demanded. “Stay still.”

You obeyed him as he held your jaw open, angling his dick into your mouth. He moaned loudly as he finished, shooting thick, hot ropes of cum on your tongue.

He took a moment to admire the sight of you, your lips wide open and mouth filled with his cum.

“Swallow, pretty slut.”

Watching you as you did as he said, his eyes followed the movement of your throat as you swallowed everything. “Good fucking girl,” he praised you.

Lifting you up, your faces grew close again. Spitting in his hand, Toji coated his cock slightly and lined himself up. Your eyes met again as he pushed himself inside of you slowly, starting off with long, slow thrusts. He gripped the balcony for stability, grinding deeper into your cunt.

Increasing the speed of his strokes, you felt him hitting your cervix, again and again. Making your head spin as he ruthlessly pounded into you. “Right there. Fuck. Don’t stop,” you moaned, biting your lip.

“Tell me, who does this pretty pussy belong to?” He groaned, his ruff voice tickling your ear.

You let out a whine, “Mmm— only belong to you.”

“Gonna cum inside this tight cunt, fill you up so nicely and make you a mommy. Carrying my baby, so you’re bound to me,” he whispered against your neck.

Strokes starting to falter, a string of curses left his lips before he finally emptied himself inside you, endless spurts of cum filling you up.

Your vision turned white as you climaxed, suddenly you felt his sharp teeth start sinking in your neck, sucking your blood. A slight ache turned into pleasure as you came down from your high.

He sucked in the last drops of blood, his grasp on you slowly loosening and his bloodshot eyes faded into their natural state.

As he softly kissed the bite marks, you declared to him, “I want to be yours forever, Toji.”

751 notes · View notes

megamindsecretlair · 6 months

Text

A Hold On You

Pairing: Franklin Saint x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut, PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving), spanking, some dirty talk, all consensual. Daddy kink and breeding kink. Fluffy smut. Established relationship.

Summary: Taking place between season 4 and season 5, Franklin toys with the idea of legacy and keeping the people he loves in his life. On date night, he hits you with a proposition.

Word Count: 3,039k

Part 2

A/N: Hello brainrot, my old friend. Whew, it pays to be feral ASF for Damson. That man is lethal. I don't even want kids and I want his babies. I'm sorry if this triggers some! Please, please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I can't get better if I don't get feedback!

Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @henneseyhoe @mybonafidefeelings @blackerthings @wide-nose-and-wonderful @halfofmysoulsblog @sevikasblackgf

“Have my baby,” Franklin said.

Your head whipped to the side so fast that you almost got whiplash. An ache pulsed in your neck and you rubbed it as you stared at Franklin. You sat on the floor, on a blanket, with a light dinner spread out between you and Franklin.

Moonlight poured into the living room, illuminating the space and lighting up Franklin’s gorgeous face. You expected him to start laughing or look away from you. To break the tension somehow.

Instead, he gave you an unreadable look. He retreated behind whatever invisible wall there was in his mind. He had one leg down and one leg up, his arm resting on his knee, and his hands clasped in front of him. He was a study in patience as he stared you down.

“You’re not serious,” you said.

“As a heartache,” he said.

You lowered the finger sandwich from your lips and finished chewing. You continued to stare at Franklin. Were you sleeping? Did you pass out and imagined having dinner with Franklin?

You put the sandwich on the plate and brushed your hands over the plate for stray crumbs. You looked away from him. Your stomach bubbled. Your hands began to shake.

“The type of business you’re in doesn’t scream safe for kids,” you said. You tried to be delicate, but the neighborhood was still buzzing about little Tianna.

Franklin nodded. “I understand, but that’s different. I can protect us,” he said and finally cracked his mask. He smiled briefly.

“Franklin,” you said and shook your head. “There would be no hiding that. What the hell would I do? Become a housewife, lamp up, and get fat?” You asked.

You shuddered and thought about that scenario. You’d certainly enjoy the sex, but you couldn’t imagine spitting kids out like that.

Franklin laughed. “Naw, but a home office could be arranged. Bodyguard for when you go out,” he said.

“A bodyguard? That’s romantic,” you said and rolled your eyes.

“Have my baby,” he said. He pushed plates out of your way and got to his knees. He crawled closer, giving you wide puppy eyes. Kneeling, he was still way taller than you. He leaned in and kissed you.

He leaned back with a satisfied hum. He kissed your jaw and then your cheek. He returned to your lips and hovered. When he licked his lips, you felt it. When he breathed through his mouth, the air swept over your wet lips. He was just shy of kissing you and you leaned in to close the gap but he leaned back at the same time.

“Just say yes,” he said.

“But then I’d be fat and gross,” you said.

Franklin smiled against your lips. You had closed your eyes when he started kissing you, so you opened them now. He must have sensed it, because he opened his eyes at the same time.

“Impossible. You’d be even more gorgeous,” he said.

“I’d whine and complain about everything,” you continued.

Light danced in Franklin’s eyes. He licked his lips and his tongue swept your lips.

“I’d love to hear your sexy voice,” he said. He finally pressed his lips against yours. He hummed, pressing closer. You sighed against him. He took the opportunity to lick his way into your mouth.

You moaned softly, already feeling so needy for him. Your toes flexed as you kissed, loving the feeling of him being so close. You rubbed your hands up and down his strong arms. His hands cupped your face. He held you in place, exactly as you were.

“I’d crave weird things and demand them at 2am,” you said, when you broke apart just far enough to gasp.

“Shit, I like drivin’ at night,” he said.

You giggled and shook your head. “You’re crazy. Who gon’ get up at all hours of the night feeding it?” You asked.

Franklin began to kiss your neck, murmuring in between pecks. “We’ll both do it, so we’ll both be miserable,” he said.

You pushed him and sucked your teeth. He laughed and rocked back. He brought his lips back to your neck. “I’ll let you get all the beauty rest you deserve after delivering my baby,” he said.

Your pussy clenched and you huffed. This couldn’t actually be turning you on, right? And yet, looking at him, you didn’t have a doubt in your mind. You would happily have his kids. You would love little sons that looked like mini versions of him. They’d keep their heads held high because that’s how much awe Franklin inspired.

You’d be so grateful to have his daughters, that looked like a mix between you. And they’d all have his brain. Franklin was easily the smartest man you’d ever met. It scared you sometimes. You felt like he was born in the wrong era. He belonged in the future with more people to appreciate his intellect.

Franklin hummed his appreciation down your neck and across your exposed chest. The dress you wore had a deeper neckline than what you usually wore and Franklin took advantage. His right hand massaged the back of your neck. His left hand pushed more plates out of your way. There was a tray at the top of the blanket to hold your drinks.

When the blanket was clear, Franklin pushed you onto your back. Between the carpet and the thick blanket, this position was surprisingly comfortable.

Franklin settled to the side of you. He threw his right leg over yours, his thick erection settling against your hips. You gasped and Franklin smiled against your skin. He leaned on his left hand while he took his time undoing the buttons of your dress.

The purple checkered dress complimented your skin tone well. He undid the few, big black buttons. Each one gave way and freed your aching breasts. Your nipples were perking up and rubbed against your bra.

As he revealed more of you with the buttons, he kissed each inch of space. “You’d look so fuckin’ beautiful full of the seed I gave you,” he said.

You shivered and looked at him. His head moved over your body. His beautiful lips felt like heaven against your skin.

Franklin reached the bottom-most button that ended up just above your navel. This, too, he paid attention to. Your hands dug into his little fro as he swirled his tongue around your tummy.

Your breathing increased as your eyes started to roll. “Oh, fuck,” you said.

His right hand grabbed the hem of your dress but he didn’t move it further. Your eyes snapped open to look at him and his eyes were closed tightly. He opened them slowly.

“I’d love to watch this sexy ass body change, knowing you’re carrying my baby,” he said.

Your arousal began to leak out of you. You moaned at the sensation. He leaned down and kissed your tummy again. “Watch this stomach get bigger and bigger,” he continued.

He trailed his finger up your body and played with the strip of fabric in between your bra cups. He kissed the top of your right titty. Then he sucked your nipple into his mouth through your bra.

You hissed and you jerked, your thigh spasming randomly. Your hands ran over his shoulders as he continued. “Hm, and these titties would get bigger for sho,” he said.

His hand returned to the hem of your dress and pushed it up. His hand found the core of you and palmed you. You gasped, your breath dragging over your throat.

He thumb stroked you from over your panties and you groaned. “Please, please, I need more,” you said.

“Let me cum in that pussy then,” he said.

You hiccuped as you laughed, not able to gather that much air. This was so dangerous. And yet…

You found yourself opening your legs wider, giving him more space. His thumb reached under your panties and he pressed down, rubbing against your pussy. He pushed into your entrance and you moaned, throwing your head against the floor.

Franklin put his lips next to your ear. “Let me fill you up. And keep fillin’ you up,” he said.

“Oh fuck,” you cried. The thought of being filled up by him had you rolling your hips. You needed him higher. On that needy little nub that always gave you away. Franklin could smile at you and your clit would throb. He could walk into the room and flood your panties within a second. It ought to be illegal having this type of visceral reaction to him. It was lethal.

If Franklin ever figured it out, you’d never be safe from him. He’d have you to agree to steal the torch from the Colosseum. There was nothing he couldn’t do to your body that you weren’t already begging for.

“Are you sure? You’d be stuck with me,” you said. It was a last ditch effort. What if you really did turn up pregnant and he ended up resenting that fact? You knew without a doubt that Franklin would make an amazing father. You just weren’t so sure that he wouldn’t hate your guts after.

It was a stupid fear. Franklin had never given you reason to believe that he wasn’t into you. But after everything he had been through the past few months, you wondered if he wasn’t rushing into this.

“I know…I know that it was hard feeling like everyone leaves. But I won’t leave,” you promised.

Franklin brought his head up to look into your eyes. He kept up those delicious circles on your clit. Your body pulsed with tension and relief. Your thighs shook violently. He kissed you, his lips remaining on yours for longer than a few seconds.

“I know. I promise, this isn’t anything other than wanting you. Loving you. Leaving a mark behind so you’ll remember me forever,” he said.

He moved his hand faster and little desperate cries began to leave you. Pressure built and built until you exploded, coming undone under his expert fingers. He whispered things into your ear; nasty things about what he wanted to do to you. How sometimes he wanted to drive you wild with his dick from sun up to sun down.

How he wanted to devour you, lick and suck his way to hearing you screaming his name. As you convulsed beneath him, he kissed your chest, sucking your nipple back into his mouth through the bra.

“There’s no way I’d forget you, Franklin,” you said.

“I know,” he said. He pulled his hand away from your clit and painted your lips with your juices. “Suck.”

You began to suckle his thumb, sucking all of your arousal off of his thumb. You moaned around the taste of yourself on his big hand. You clung to his wrist as you suckled harder.

“See you do shit like that and it...” he made a strangled noise. “I want to just use you.”

You bit your lip and closed your legs, seeking relief from the inferno roaring inside of you. That orgasm wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.

You leaned up on your elbows and looked at his face. The moonlight played across his features like a delicate lightshow. “You can do whatever the fuck you want to do with me,” you said.

Franklin took a long, deep breath and blew the air out of his mouth. “Don’t fuck with me,” he warned. His voice grew deeper, the low tones dancing along the back of your head.

“Whatever. You. Fuckin’. Want,” you said. Each word was punctuated with a kiss. Franklin growled and leaned back on his knees.

He grabbed your waist and flipped you over. You landed on your stomach with a soft, “Oof.” Franklin pulled the sides of your dress down and off of your arms. He released the clasp of your bra and pulled that off as well.

Air hit your wet nipple making it pebble. It rubbed against the blanket and you moaned. He pulled your hips up until you were on your knees. He pushed up your dress, exposing your ass. He grabbed both globes of your ass and squeezed.

The mounting pressure made you cry out. “Oh, spank it, Daddy,” you said.

Franklin obliged, spanking your ass. The smack bounced off the walls. Red, hot fire bloomed on your left ass cheek. You bit your lip and dipped over further, arching your back.

Franklin pushed your panties to the side. Arousal escaped you. Franklin gathered it up with the tip of his dick. He moaned at how wet your pussy was. He faced no resistance as he slipped inside.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned together. Your shriek ended on a whine as he slid in and out with ease. Your hands clenched and unclenched the blanket, looking for any type of crutch or anchor. Something to weigh you down when your body so desperately wanted to float away.

You reached the pinnacle of bliss. Franklin worked his hips slow at first, letting you attempt to get used to him. But he started to jerk, his hold more bruising, his fingers pulling you onto him.

You matched his strokes, throwing your ass back on him. Your thighs slapped together loudly and lewdly. He smacked your ass a few more times and groaned when you clenched around his dick.

“Fuck, I’m gon’ cum in this pussy. You gon’ carry my baby,” he said. Each promise was a hard jerk, pulling you onto him so completely that he bottomed out. His dick continued to spear inside of you, touching a primal part of you.

“Oh right there, right there, Franklin,” you moaned and chanted. Your belly tightened and tightened, curling into a little, tiny ball.

“Fuck me,” he moaned as he rammed into you. He rutted into you. Driving you down onto his dick like he wanted to carve his name inside of your pussy. As if he could brand himself there. Sear himself and leave such an impression behind. As if by sheer force of will, he could mold your pussy around his dick.

“Oh, cum in me, Daddy,” you moaned. “Give it to me.”

“Take this baby,” he chanted. It was both a promise and a determination. He spoke it into the universe. Writing your fates among the stars and daring to be denied.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cried. That tight ball of pressure finally unraveled, turning you into a limp noodle as your orgasm ripped through you. It pulled you apart, one stitch at a time. Pleasure rippled throughout your body and you cried out, the blanket muffling some of it.

Franklin could barely keep his hands on you as he unloaded into you. His spurts of cum were hot, scalding, painting your insides with the essence of him. “Shit,” he groaned as he dumped his load inside of you.

You both panted as you came down, your breaths mingling as you both tried to return to your bodies. Franklin pulled you up and on your side. You groaned as he slipped out of you. There was a squelching that you felt and heard and you moaned again. He laid down behind you, molding his body against yours.

You felt his dick slide wetly into the crook of your ass. Franklin absently kissed your neck. He raised your left leg and brought it to rest across his long legs.

“Get these wet for me,” he said. He brought his fingers to your mouth. You suckled and drooled on his fingers. He then brought his wet fingers to your clit and played with you. You jerked and moaned, trying to escape.

He moved his right arm under your neck and pulled you against him. His biceps flexed against your neck and you made unholy, guttural noises. His left hand continued to please you, pushing you past the point of arousal.

Your senses were full of him. The way he smelled right now, the sound of his breaths in your ear. “Where you think you goin’?” He asked. The sight of his thick arm around your neck, the way his dangling fingers pulled at your nipples.

His fingers dipped into your entrance and massaged your spongy walls. “Naw, hold that shit in for me,” he said.

He massaged his cum back into you, pushing it higher and higher. You felt so stuffed and full that despite cumming so many times close together, your body reacted just as hungrily. Gobbling up his fingers and his cum.

“Franklin,” you called out, tears running down your cheeks. He had to feel them. His shoulder was beneath your head. The tears ran down and to the side, splashing onto him. He kissed and licked your ear.

“I know, I know, baby,” he whispered.

You twitched and gyrated on the floor, robbed of seeing his face. Your hands searched the blanket for purchase. You felt his dick twitch against your ass.

“Oh, no,” you groaned before another orgasm left you shaking. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Your mumbled speech was incoherent as pleasure made you growl like an animal. But fuck, you felt so fucking good that you couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. Your limbs moved of their own accord.

“No more,” you gasped out. Fuck, you couldn’t take another one. Not right now. You were far too sensitive, jerking at every new touch and slide of his fingers. Franklin stilled his fingers, tugged on your nipple and kissed your neck.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered. He brought his left hand up to rub your belly as if he could already imagine it swollen and stiff with his son or daughter. He pressed on your tummy, massaging it.

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous,” he said.

You were too tired to give him a proper response. You kissed his arm and he moved until you pressed into his chest. He wrapped his arm completely over your middle. “I’ll protect us, babe. Come whatever tries to get between us. I’ll do everything in my power to keep us safe.”

Somehow, you completely believed him. You laid there and talked with him about everything you could think of. You both passed out somewhere around the moonlight disappearing and the sunlight returning.

You know you need more in your life: The Secret Franklin Saint Files

There is now a Part 2!

433 notes · View notes

iddybiddysquish · 3 months

Text

Sukuna x Reader - Cursed Womb

Plot Description: reader insert for a chunk of the cursed womb arc

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Gender: AFAB

Warnings: Serious non-con/rape; oral receiving; creampie; branding; breeding kink

Notes: think of any tags, let me know. And yes, I did in fact copy words for word the subtitles for this. Have I also done it for all of season 1... quite possibly ahaha

Also sorry for not posting for a while. I'm working on an original book and it's sapping all of my creative energy lmaoooo

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Itadori removed his belt, tying it around his arm to stop the blood loss.

“I can’t escape after it’s gotten this close!” Itadori muttered, still tying the tourniquet, “Hey Sukuna! If I die, you die too, right?

“If you don’t want that, then help me out!”

“Nope!” he grinned, popping up on his cheek, gaining my attention, “Even if the parts of me inside you die, there are eighteen other fragments of my soul.

“Still, irritatingly enough, I don’t have control of this body. If you want to switch, go ahead and switch. But once you do, I’ll kill that brat before the cursed spirit can!

“Then I’ll go for that woman! She’s a lively one. I’ll have fun with her.

“And of course there's her.” he chimed looking at me, making me sweat, “I've had my eye on her since you swallowed my finger. I'll be sure to take my time on you.” He added, speaking to me this time. I gulped.

“I’m not going to let you do that.” Itadori barely whispered in horror.

“I bet. But if you’re too focused on me, your friends are gonna die.”

“Don’t listen to Sukuna, Yuji.” I uttered, scoffing at the cursed spirit, who eyed me curiously, “He’s trying to rile you up. And I can tell it’s working!

“I won’t let anything else happen to you two.” I concluded, “I’ll die before that happens.” I vowed.

“Cute, cute!” Sukuna cackled, “You think you can fight it, hm?

“You’re weak-”

“Can it, four eyes-”

The next thing we knew, the creature shot something out of its mouth at us, causing a small explosion, causing our ears to ring, unable to hear anything else. That’s when I realised it didn’t use a technique - a jujutsu.

It was pure cursed energy that it shot at us.

‘That’s possible…?’

“Fushiguro!” Itadori cried through the fog but it was so hard to hear, “(L/N)!” I shook my head, trying to get rid of the ringing that had all but ruined my hearing for the moment. But as he called both our names again we both snapped out of it, “Take Kugisaki and (L/N) and get out of here! I’ll keep this one busy until you three are out. As soon as you’re out, give me some kind of signal. Once you do…

“I’ll switch with Sukuna.”

“You know you can’t do that!” Fushiguro yelled, “Not with only one arm against a special-grade!”

“Look closer.” he explained, nodding towards the creature, “It’s having fun.” Fushiguro gasped, “It’s obviously toying with us.” I sighed and nodded, knowing this all too well, “I can at least buy us some time.”

“No!”

“Fushiguro! Please.”

“I’m going nowhere.” I exclaimed sharply, “Fushiguro will find Kugisaki with his Shikigami and get her out of here.

“But I will stay here.” I explained.

“No!” both yelled looking over at me sharply. I glared.

“I’m immune to curses.” I explained quickly, “I will be untouchable to both Sukuna and this curse.

“I need to stay to ensure your safety since I can’t heal you. I’ll then distract him long enough for you all to get out.”

“No way!” Itadori barked as Fushiguro shook his head.

“She’s right, Itadori!” He explained quickly, “If anyone has any chance of fighting this thing, it’s (L/N)-senpai!”

“I can’t leave.” Itadori concluded, “I refuse.”

“We can’t release Sukuna!” I argued, dodging the creatures next attack as it watched us in glee, “It will be too dangerous-”

“I won’t let you die, either!” Itadori concluded, “You can’t phase through it forever, right?” I froze at that.

We hadn’t found my limit yet. But, according to Gojo, my cursed energy is the most efficient he’s seen. And because of my supposed mixed heritage to Sugawara Michizane and the other two Big Three Vengeful Spirits of Japan, I have large levels of cursed energy, larger than Gojo has seen before. I haven’t run out before, but who knew how long it would be before that would happen, especially if I had to wait for a signal from Fushiguro. And that’s ignoring if I need to produce a lot of positive energy to heal both Itadori and I.

Itadori was right. We needed Sukuna.

“Fine.” I concluded, “Stay with me, keep close. I’m going to try and protect you.”

“But, (L/N)-senpai-”

“I’m staying. Sukuna is a last resort, okay?” I explained quickly, earning a sharp nod. I nodded back before ordering Fushiguro to leave. To my surprise, when he started running, he grabbed the name tag of the prisoner on his way out.

Once Fushiguro was out, we both got into stance, watching the curse as we thought of a game plan. Itadori refused to stay behind me, determined to protect me, despite my desperation to make him stay behind me so that I could protect him.

The curse in retort pulled off his trousers, making me sweat in confusion as it chuckled, leaving only its undergarments. I looked over at Itadori, who shrugged, before looking back at the curse. Itadori snorted.

“Trying to say it’s easier to move around in your underwear?”

“I mean, I feel you there, bro.” I admitted, rolling my shoulders, “If it were appropriate that’s how I’d live.”

Itadori wanted to joke, but he was too locked into the danger of the situation at hand. All as he contemplated on what to do.

I, on the other hand, went for the curse. From my training, I continued to isolate areas with Immunity so that I could still attack whilst not taking hits. So that’s what I did as I went to punch the curse when it tried to send cursed energy my way, dodging before making contact.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t with his face, but his palm, making me sweat as he laughed at me.

‘Fast…!’

Opening my palm, I grasped his hand and pulled him to me, catching him off guard, before headbutting him in the face with cursed energy, causing some blood to splutter from him. Itadori then came in, ready to support. However, before I could get to him, the curse threw a wave of cursed energy at him, sending him flying into the wall.

“Yuji!” I cried, running over to him. But the curse was faster, grinning as he advanced on Itadori with a cursed energy sphere, punching him through the wall and sending him bouncing onto the floor, causing me to cry out his name again.

With a growl, I appeared behind the curse and went to kick it through the gap, only for it to appear behind me and shove me through with cursed energy, just as he had done with Itadori moments before, sending me flying and into the wall on the other side.

Itadori only rose up when he was able to snap out of his abused state, the curse having begun to charge up before unleashing horrendously strong cursed energy.

“Senpai!” he yelled as I groaned. However when I got up I cursed, eyes widening as he held his hand out, trying to fight the cursed energy beam going through him and into me.

That’s when I realised that I wasn’t activating Immunity. And also that I wasn’t injured by his cursed energy.

‘No… if anything I absorbed it.’ I realised, feeling stronger, ‘I have more cursed energy.’

Itadori was crying and bloody, the pain unimaginable as his fingers slowly began to disintegrate. He began to regret his actions regarding the cursed object and how he wanted to run and get away. About how he didn’t want to die.

And I could feel it in his cursed energy. But not as much as I felt the sadistic pleasure from the cursed energy I absorbed from the curse currently hurting my son.

‘Yuji…’

“Don’t think!” Itadori cried, what was remaining of his hands out before falling back and into the wall all over again.

It was enough to send me into sadistic rage, the curse laughing at my anger.

I gritted my teeth, running towards it at a speed I didn’t know I was capable of, ready to punch it in the face again. However, I disappeared before reappearing behind it. That’s when I kicked through his back and out the other side, making it scream and writhe.

Pulling my leg out I went to punch it in the face, but it threw me to the ground, winding me.

“I was so full of myself.” I heard Itadori utter to himself as he stared at the ground in front of him, “I thought I was strong. I thought I was at least strong enough to choose when I died.

“I’m weak!” he looked at his hand, fingertips gone as I continued to pull on the arms of the curse, slowly and painfully, my tears flowing at the sight of Itadori.

To my surprise he began to heal himself from my cursed enhanced motions. I rolled over, narrowly avoiding it’s kick as I backed up, ready to go toe-to-toe with the creature all over again.

Unfortunately for the curse, I would get better with each move he made. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t take some beatings, but I was prepared to. It meant I could fight.

Unfortunately, no matter my natural speed, I didn’t have the reflexes to match, causing him to send me flying into the wall again without cursed energy this time. I was embedded in it, passing out for a moment.

“(F/N)-senpai…” Itadori uttered when he saw me before shaking his head, “I’m far too weak!” he yelled, standing up. He gripped his head with what was left of his hands as he cried, “Augh, I don’t want to die! No! No way!”

“But… I am going to die!”

Itadori began to focus on his emotions before imagining putting it into his fist. He was ready to be useful, in his mind, before charging.

“Yuji…!” I mumbled, in a daze, only for the curse to grab his cursed energy enhanced fist, making me curse as I got out of the rubble, slowly, whilst healing myself. The curse laughed at him as I snarled.

“Don’t you dare!” I barked, sensing its next move, up and out of the rubble as quickly as I could be.

“Damn it!”

But all of a sudden there was a howl. A loud howl.

It was Fushiguro’s signal.

I breathed a sigh of relief. They were safe.

However, I realised quickly there was no defeating this curse between Itadori and I. So I nodded at Itadori and instantly Sukuna was released from Itadori’s mind, healing him just as instantly as the special-grade curse flinched back at his presence.

I was ready to run.

Unfortunately, he grabbed me with an unimpressed look on his face, making me gasp in surprise.

“What a thoroughly annoying brat. He’s obviously screwing with me.” he contemplated, fist to chin in thought, the other hand letting go of me, “Go nowhere.” he ordered, directed at me, before patting the scared cursed spirit on the shoulder, “Hold on a moment. I’m thinking right now.”

The curse nodded profusely as Sukuna continued to think aloud.

“What can I do to make that brat regret this?” After a few moments of thinking, he grinned, “Hey, let’s go kill some kids. I’ve got one in mind already.”

I gasped, retreating. I knew he was talking about Fushiguro and Kugisaki, and I realised quickly that this was bad. He was going to bring the curse to us to fight the three of us.

‘Shit, shit, shit!’

However, before I could retreat, to my shock, It hopped away, scared and prepared to hesitantly brawl despite Sukuna’s unthreatening demeanour. He motioned for him to follow, growing the hand back and adding, “Follow me.”

However, the creature began to panic, forming strong cursed energy into a ball with both hands before throwing it.

“S-Sukuna-!” I pointed, but he simply rolled his eyes at my attempt to warn him.

“Baka.” he paused as the attack bypassed him, hand out, before looking at his hand, “Ah, shit. I healed this one, too.” I blinked.

‘He was purposefully not healing it.’ I shook my head, ‘He used the reverse cursed technique.’

He put his hands in his pockets, looking back at the curse, “You don’t like walks?” he looked away, “Well, cursed spirits are usually supposed to stay where they’re born. Fine, fine. In that case…” he grinned, “You die here!” he exclaimed, rushing the cursed spirit and grabbing it by the face before it could so much as twitch, “Hey what’s the matter? You’re not finished already, are you?” the creature gritted its teeth as it attempted to rise up, shakily, “That’s it. Come on, try harder.”

From there he stomped on its head, pressure causing the archway we were standing on to collapse and crumble, causing us all to fall.

I screamed, but found myself floating in the air, something Sukuna noted with slight intrigue. I gasped in surprise.

‘Nullification… It allows me to hover.’ I realised, slowly descending into the water before looking for an escape. This was all whilst I saw the spirit grasping at Sukuna’s foot, only for Sukuna to cut off their remaining arm and chill on a piece of debris after it attempted to throw him in a circle.

“Even a cursed spirit,” he raised his hand, holding the arm of the cursed spirit, “would miss their arm, right?” He cackled maniacally as the creature fell into the water below them.

I wasn't completely dumb. This was my opportunity to escape.

So that's what I did, spinning as I carefully, and quietly, made my way through the walls.

“Oi, don't move.” I froze, turning back to look at Sukuna who was smirking my way. I gulped.

‘Shit…’

“I haven't forgotten about you. Just be patient and wait there for me, woman.”

I cursed again. That was definitely addressed to me.

So I decided to run. However he was in front of me before I could even process what was happening. Hand on my shoulder, he stopped me from moving forward, physically bringing me to the curse that was currently embedded in the wall. I gulped along with it.

“Don’t try me.” he warned, pushing me forward, “Sit here.”

I did as I was told as Sukuna turned back to the curse. That was when he spliced the curse into five and embedded it into the wall.

“Hey, did you know? We’re both classified as special-grade, apparently.” Sukuna noted, looking up at the curse with a grin, “Both you and me, man.”

The spirit began to regenerate, forcing itself shakily out of the wall one new limb at a time. Sukuna watched on, still grinning.

“Good job, special-grade. Keep trying.” before the cursed spirit jumped before him, “You look happy. Want me to praise you?

“But healing with cursed energy isn’t that hard for cursed spirits, unlike for humans. Neither you nor these brats really understand what curses truly are.

“This is a good opportunity, so I’ll show you… What real jujutsu is.” he concluded before putting his fingers together in a specific formation.

“Domain Expansion.” He closed his eyes before opening them again, revealing his domain, “Malevolent Shrine!” I gasped in shock, instantly activating Nullification to be safe from the attack. The creature made a gurgling noise before it was split into five, making me gasp again.

“S-Sukuna…” I muttered, shocked as I tried to deconstruct his technique, but it made my head hurt.

“I was planning to cut you in three slices, but you’re really weak.

“Oh, yeah,” he noted, pulling out the finger from the cavity in the curses’ chest, “and then there’s this.

“I’ll be taking this.” he concluded, lifting it up as the pieces of the curse lit up from damage.

“It’s over.” Sukuna exclaimed, “This sucks! If you’re gonna switch, just do it already!” When he was met with silence from Itadori, Sukuna added, “What’s the matter, brat?” It was then he realised something. And he grinned so wide and gave a shallow laugh.

He was in control and not Itadori.

So I waited and waited until Itadori would take over, sure it would happen at any moment. When it didn’t, I began to panic. And it was delicious in Sukuna’s eyes.

‘Shit…’

Before Sukuna could even turn to me, I was out of there, running. He tsked at me, rolling his eyes.

“I thought I told you-” he grinned, appearing in front of me, “-to wait!”

Freedom was so close, yet so far as I felt him grab ahold of my uniform at the scruff, choking me as he tore the neck of my fabric. I squeaked, faltering slightly in my speed as I ripped off the blazer before he grabbed my hair next, making me wince and eyes widen in surprise and pain.

“Come, now.” he grinned evilly, “There’s no need to fight the inevitable.” I snarled.

“Get fucked, Sukuna! Fuck you!” I snarled, earning a child-like giggle.

“Exactly.

“Now get on your knees, whore.” I snarled.

“No fucking way!” I growled, going to punch him in the stomach, only for him to grab my fist and swat it away as though it were nothing.

Sukuna watched with amusement as I clawed at his hand still in my hair as he forced me down, though I refused to kneel despite his attempts. I couldn’t help but snarl, pulling him by the arm and flipping him over onto his back, catching him off guard. Immediately I raised up and went to stomp on him, but he blocked it with a grin, grabbing ahold of my foot.

“That’s more like it. You do know it’ll make it worse for you, though, right?”

Pushing me, I fell over with a yelp and before I could process it, hitting my head, he was on me, face to face with a wicked grin.

“It’s been so long since I’ve felt flesh on flesh.” he chuckled, “And yours is especially soft. Like the most pliable cotton, threatening to spill delicious blood at any moment.” he mused, feeling along my cheek, tauntingly, “I bet you bruise beautifully.”

“Don’t.” I flinched as he caressed my side, going up and down my body with a teasing touch. He chuckled.

“All that bravado gone and what is left, hm?” he whispered into my ear as he pressed himself against me, “A worm.”

“Fuck you.” I spat.

“You haven’t pushed me away yet.” he remarked, “I’m hardly pinning you here. Maybe you are trained already.” as if realising he was right, I tried to push him off of me, but failed, earning a chuckle, “So weak.” I snarled at that notion, close to tears at how helpless I felt.

When I applied cursed energy, however, I found myself able to roll us and jumped back, ready to fight. Sukuna didn’t say anything, simply rolled his eyes and shoulders before putting his hands back in his pockets. He was casual, as if to say ‘fine if we must’ as I used my cursed energy to fight him.

He was surprised, actually, at how quick I was and how capable I had become after a few, albeit long, sessions with Gojo, Itadori and Fushiguro. He had to put some energy into the scenario in order to bat away my attacks.

So I ramped them up, going faster.

“You know, I theorised that Gojo let you hit him that day.” he grinned, “But now you’re starting to intrigue me with how quick you’re learning.” he admitted as I growled.

“What do you want me to say to that?”

“Gratitude would be nice.” I scoffed.

“I’ll show you gratitude when you switch back with Yuji.” he laughed.

“Fat chance.”

I was tiring. I didn’t seem to be getting anywhere. I feigned energy, but I was exhausted and overstimulated.

Sukuna was just too fast. Not to mention he was still doing this half heartedly. It made me realise how easy Gojo had been actually going with me during his sparring sessions. It also made me realise I needed to practise more. I needed more if I were going to go toe to toe with the beast that was Sukuna.

However Sukuna could read me like a book despite my attempts to mask. He knew when I was about to run away based on lacking energy, using the last of it to hopefully get me to safety. He could see the very moment I’d even thought I could.

And when I did, he was already there, gripping me close to his chest as though he’d teleported in front of me, making me squeak like a mouse, in his mind.

“You know, I can tell you’re getting tired.” he chuckled, “You can’t improve if the other person isn’t willing, can you?”

That was why I wasn’t improving. He wasn’t investing. And he watched as horror displayed itself on my features.

“Beautiful, really. You weren’t meant for fighting, were you?” he cooed, making me cringe as his nose rubbed mine before he chucked me through a few walls to his left. When that was over, he did the same only up.

“This ought to have tired you out.”

He then picked me up by the hair again and dragged me into the centre of the new room, throwing me down on the ground violently, causing craters and cracks to form before the floor caved in, making me fall to the lowest level of the building. I groaned, body littered with cuts, bruises and some broken bones as I coughed the dust out of my lungs. But still, I rose up, ignoring the pain as my body automatically healed itself and was already back in stance, something Sukuna noted with sincere intrigue.

“Oi, oi!” he clapped, cheerily, “You’re lasting longer than I expected! Durable, aren’t you?” he chuckled.

So I went for him again, finding more energy despite the dwindling supply. Sukuna watched, curious as I continued to attempt to battle him, resulting in sending me flying through more walls and up through the ceilings of the buildings and then back down through them all over again. And despite all of this, I continued to get into sparring position and then charging. It was impressive, he had to admit, that determination to win. It was quite attractive.

“I picked well!” he beamed, punching me in the gut, causing me to cough up blood, “You’re so determined. Maybe it wasn’t all talk.” he wondered as I staggered back, starting to feel the brunt of my attempts, “You tired out yet? I’m getting bored waiting for your tantrum to be over.” I snarled, remembering my purpose and finding more energy I didn’t even know I had.

I said nothing as I charged again, this time feigning my moves before twisting to create new ones. I harnessed my cursed technique as well as I could, adapting on the fly to his rebuttals. It got to the point that I thought I might be able to land a hit.

Until he vanished only to kick me into the ground behind me, winding me and thoroughly shattering my ribcage and sternum.

He chuckled before sitting on top of me as I wheezed, passing out for a moment before coming to as he gently began to caress my bleeding head. He began smearing it across my cheek when tears from the pain and fatigue fell, cooing at me. All whilst I tried to regain control over my own head, which was spinning. I didn’t know what was up or down and he liked the fucked up look on my features. He chuckled again.

“I kept your pretty face clean, huh?” he noted, continuing to caress my face as though it were fine china, “After all, I want something pretty to look at when I fuck.” he admitted before grinning down at me when I came to again, having passed out momentarily for the second time, “You prefer this, huh? Want to be romanced like I was Gojo?” I groaned my disagreement, but it only made him cackle more, “There must be someone you like.”

I spit out some blood onto his face in response, earning a maniacal grin.

“Don’t act so shy now. You know I already know your attraction to powerful men.” I tsked and rolled my eyes.

“Then you really don’t know me, huh?” I muttered horsley, shaking my head as I attempted to get my eyesight back, “I really am not that interested in men, women or otherwise unless there’s something they can give me.”

“Hm. I suppose we’re one in the same there.” he snickered, “How does that feel?” I rolled my eyes.

“You’re insane-” Shoving him off of me with all my strength so I was straddling him, dripping with sarcasm, “-we make a great match.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes, feeling up my thighs through the gaps in my trousers. It was then he dragged his nails across my thighs, cutting them and making me wince and clench, before bringing the blood to his mouth. He groaned.

“So delicious for a whore-”

“I’m not a whore!” I snapped, slapping him across the face with cursed energy, causing his head to snap to the side, “I’m done with your shit! Either kill me or go away!”

I looked down at him in horror as I raised my hand, realisation of what I’d just done coming to the surface. So when he grinned, my heart fell into my ass all over again as I gulped.

‘I fucked up.’

“You still have fight. Adorable, really. I’ll allow it this one time.” he mused, gripping my thighs so hard they not only bled where his nails met my skin, but would bruise in large hand-shaped marks, “But I’m done playing.”

I knew what was coming next.

The next thing I know, everything was removed. My bra, underwear, trousers and overskirt, gone.

The seriousness of the situation dawned upon me further as the cold air nipped at me, raising the hairs on my skin as I shivered, causing me to let out an audible gasp. When he grinned up at me, hands still in a bruising grip on my thighs, I gulped, all three eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

“Better than I expected.” he admitted, licking his lips, “It’s been so long.” he grinned, reaching out to tweak my pierced nipple, but I slapped him away, earning a dark look.

“Do that again and I’ll cut it off.” he warned, making me whimper. However when I made a motion to move, to hide myself from his gaze, he pushed me onto my back before flipping onto me.

“S-Sukuna-!”

“Don’t beg.” He warned, lowly, “Unless it's to fill you with my seed.” My eyes widened as I began to panic.

As if sensing a whole new wave of protest, he grabbed my face and smashed my head into the floor. Once, twice, thrice. Just enough to know I wouldn’t do anything to stop him from completing his desires.

I groaned, dazed as he leaned back and observed me fully. So bare before him, he awed at the way my nipples stiffened in response to him barely touching them, indulging in tracing his fingers across all my piercings and loved the smell of my sex in the air.

“Too beautiful for a sorcerer.” he mused, moving my hair out of my face as he caressed and assaulted my body with his hands and eyes, “They should have kept you as a breeding tool. Then maybe you wouldn’t get pregnant with my child.”

I was too dazed to understand what he was saying. I watched as he nipped and sucked at my skin, peppering it with undesired attention, being cruel as he used his teeth and watched for my skin’s reaction. When it wasn’t satisfactory, he’d up his motions until he was fully biting my neck, collar bone, breasts and thighs, making me cry out in pain. I couldn't help my whimpers and moans, filter off in my dazed state.

“So responsive.” he chuckled. I didn’t take it in at all, even as he began salivating at my core, having moved lower and lower. He was nose deep as he began to lap at my juices. It was when he harshly sucked on my clit and I moaned his name, much to his amusement, that I realised what was going on and namely who the culprit was.

“S-stop…!” I uttered out, hand to my head as I attempted to stabilise myself.

However Sukuna didn’t stop. He continued to lick and suck harshly at my clit and lips in a cruel pace, flicking his tongue expertly against me as he lapped up my juices greedily. Sometimes he dipped into my clenching hole, just for an extra taste, curling it around. He considered this treating himself. And god did it taste so good; like nectar of the Gods.

When I started to squirm and pant, unable to fight him off any longer, he pinned my pelvis and thighs to the floor, open and exactly where he wanted them. And all I could do was cum on his tongue until he was done, body overstimulated and aching.

“Mh! N-no! No more- s’ too m-much!” I squeaked, pleading as if it would make any difference. Sukuna wasn’t so much interested in my pleasure - even my foggy brain could comprehend that.

No, he was trying to make this memorable. Traumatic. He also wanted to prove a point, which was that he could break me whilst also proving there would never be anyone better than him. There was nothing better than putting a bitch in their place.

I yelped as he nipped harshly on my clit when I tried to find purchase with my hands in his hair, so I clawed at the ground as I had another orgasm come and go, squirting my juices onto his face, something which made his cock jump to attention; he chose well.

Sukuna would stop when he wanted to stop. He would pay attention to my body, sure, but right now he was only interested in breaking me and his own pleasure. And right now he was indulging himself in a taste he hadn’t experienced in so, so long.

Thoroughly prepped, Sukuna didn’t waste time in pulling his cock out. However, I’d grown more lucid and began to kick and fuss, earning a slap to my tits.

“Don’t stop me. I will kill you.”

“You’ll kill me, anyway!”

“Not if you have a use.” he snickered cruelly before pulling me to meet his pelvis, cock rubbing against my folds, teasingly, smearing our fluids against one another, earning a shaky moan from Sukuna, “And you are useful.”

I grabbed at his face, his chest, his hair - anywhere I could get purchase - to try and shove him off in my weakened state. But I couldn’t do anything. He wasn’t even taking my attempts seriously, instead laughing down at me as lined up his cock with my entrance before slowly plunging in.

Instantly his face was contorted into something tense until he bottomed out, then it relaxed as he released a deep, shaky breath.

“Looks like you’re not a whore after all. So fucking tight…” he hissed as I cried, “I wonder what you’d feel like on my cock in my true form.” He snickered cruelly, “I’d split you in half with just one of them.”

Crying was all I could do as I tried to push him away using his chest as leverage. When I did, however, he pinned both wrists to the ground before pulling out, only to slam back in harshly, setting a brutal pace that had me unable to make any noise even if I’d wanted to.

Sukuna didn’t remember it feeling quite as good as this. No, he was sure this was all me. And it made him drunk on the sensation. Enough that he just wanted to bury himself in me and stay that way for a while, but he remembered the point of this exercise was more than to get him off.

No, this was about putting me in my place.

He hardly even considered that this could’ve been Itadori’s virginity he was taking for him, nor did he care. He also didn’t care for my feelings, either. In fact, he was revelling in my silent cries as he continued to pound into my wet cunt, obnoxious squelching and slapping noises reverberating off the walls of the concrete jungle we were in with each thrust.

Unsurprisingly, I was dead to the world by this point, pliant in his hold, enough that he was able to bend me in a mating press, pleasantly surprised by my flexibility as he got impossibly deeper inside whilst pushing my knees to my head, practically fucking my cervix. It was painful, but also pleasurable - pain I could take. But gaining any pleasure from this was the last thing I wanted.

I would not cum on his cock of all places.

But the way his cock buried itself inside of me, bruising that sweet spot at such a sickening pace was enough to leave me seeing stars as I dissociated.

“Still ready to fight?” he chuckled, “I’ll fuck that out of you-” He snarled, getting lost in the sensation of my hole quivering around him, milking him, “That’s right, take it all.”

He was getting close.

Suddenly I was violently slammed back into the driver’s seat as he folded me into a deeper mating press, wanting to see me cum as he choked me out. I shook my head, desperate to avoid it. Desperate not to cum. He chuckled, amused at this visible attempt, a vein popping on my forehead.

“What’s wrong? Don’t wanna cum?” he snickered.

It felt so damn good. But it was dirty and I didn’t want it.

“You’re going to cum on my cock.” Sukuna whispered harshly against my ear, not sparing me a glance as he watched himself enter and exit me, over and over rhythmically, sweaty forehead to my own. It was addicting to watch and with four eyes, he was more than capable of watching everything he wanted to - my face when I came and whatever came out of me as my climax washed over me, causing me to cry out as I squirted down his cock.

“S-Sukuna!” I found myself clawing at his back as he fucked me through my high. He laughed at me as I tried to find purchase, eyes rolling back so prettily.

“Beautiful, beautiful.” he sang, “Prepare yourself. I’m going to breed this tight cunt.” he grinned viciously, grip leaving my thighs to grasp directly at my hips, forcing me against him impossibly closer as he chased his own high, causing me to orgasm a second time.

“So easy to make you cum.” he chuckled airily, “Gonna do it again? Hm?” I shook my head violently as tears spilled. Whether it was from the earth shattering orgasms or the disgusting nature of them, I wasn’t sure. But all I knew is he was fucking me dumb and I didn’t like it. Especially at his next words.

“You cum when I tell you to, you got that Pet?” he warned, “Otherwise I won’t stop fucking you until you do.” he warned before chuckling, “Or maybe I’ll do both.” he grinned nodding as he huffed against me, “See how many orgasms I can get out of you.”

I knew I was doomed then. Because I was close and Sukuna knew it from the way I gripped him as he buried himself inside of me over and over again.

But I did what I was told. I held it off as much as I could. It’s not like I wanted to cum in the first place. But he could tell I was failing in my war against it, eyes screwed shut with tears falling as I babbled, squealed and panted in my attempts. He chuckled.

“Now. Cum now.” he barked in my ear, picking up the pace impossibly fast. I shook my head.

“Fuck you!” I snarled as I came, nails digging into his neck and back until they were surely bleeding. He didn’t care; revelled in it, in fact.

It was enough that he, proudly, could climax inside of me. However he didn’t let up. Instead, he continued to rut into me at the same brutal pace, as though he hadn’t cum at all, fucking his and my cum into me. It was then it became obvious that he was only interested in his own pleasure and watching me come undone all for the wrong reasons.

I was desperate for it to be over as he changed positions slightly, sitting up as he grasped my legs and pulled them to his chest. It reached new depths and I suspected that his cock had not only bruised my cervix but was downright fucking it from the blinding pain I was in.

I clawed at the ground until my fingers were bleeding. I couldn’t stop my cries and moans despite trying my best. I felt dirty. I felt used. And he was nowhere close to done based on how he was fucking into me so rhythmically. As though he was addicted.

And in a way he was. He was getting pussy drunk as he watched my tits bounce with each thrust. It was downright addictive.

He couldn’t let me go after this. No, he couldn’t let Gojo have me. It was rare he found a feisty woman he could dominate so well. Especially when he realised I had two vaginas for him to fuck; it was perfect, he concluded, scheming.

No, this was a dynamic he wanted to continue.

So, once I’d passed out as he continued to use me for his own pleasure, he made sure to mark me on my throat. Somewhere obvious. Somewhere anyone could be reminded of him. It was the same shape as the seal on his tongue whenever he spoke in Itadori’s body. And it linked to him.

He would know what I was doing at all times. He’d be able to keep track of me. He couldn’t help but laugh as he climaxed, leaving more bruises on me as he forced me to cum through my passed-out state, flicking my clit mercilessly, watching as I spasmed around him, more fluid shooting out and onto his pelvis despite my state.

This was exactly as he’d imagined it would be. Ne, better, even.

This couldn’t have gone better, and he was going to take his time to appreciate and indulge in it, that was sure.

I wasn't sure how long the whole act lasted. I lost track of how many rounds we went, how many times I came or how many times he came. I just know I was red raw and that my body was a bruised mess as he began to mark me with his nails and teeth, clawing and biting - and I mean clawing and biting - at me till I was bleeding and would likely scar. There were bruises everywhere and I was in agony.

I was left there by him until he was done using me, having passed out ages ago. When I came to he was walking away and I was alone. I winced, feeling everything hit me all at once.

I was butt-naked, covered in bruising, bites, scratches and hickeys. I was in pain as his cum pooled out of me and onto the floor, down my thighs.

I used my eyes, seeing Sukuna leave me alone, done with me and my breath hitched when I recognised the image of Fushiguro with him.

I didn’t have a hope in hell of helping him. And yet I stumbled to my feet, grabbing the jumpsuit from one of the dead inmates, not having anything else to cover myself with, before charging.

That was when he looked back at me, ready to use his cursed technique to be away with me. I snarled, dodging the attack with Immunity. But the bigger shock was the fact I was healing myself, without even realising it; it was subconscious and preemptive, which had Sukuna staring at me, finally seeing me as more than just an object.

“Oi, oi, oi!” he chuckled, “Even more potential!” he beamed, laughing maniacally. I glared as he added, “Maybe you were right and you have more use than just a cock sleeve. Look at you.” he cackled and immediately I grew suspicious, “I did cum in you, afterall. Only a woman interesting is worthy of my seed.

“Come on.” he motioned for me to run at him, “I’ll entertain you. See if you can implement positive energy with your fighting style.” he offered, making me gasp.

This was a turn. Originally he was planning to just use me to get off and leave, keeping me alive for future use. But now I’d intrigued him to the point that he wanted me to go all out.

So, I did as I was told, even as his cum spilled out of my womb and through the jumpsuit, some down my legs, the abuse still raw. And yet I was still trying.

It was something that made his grin impossibly wider.

I was already quite fast - fast enough to mostly keep up with a slow version of Gojo. However, when I applied my cursed energy to them, it allowed me to speed up closer to both Gojo and Sukuna’s levels. The more I practised, the faster I got and even Sukuna could plainly see my quick learning and adaptability.

What really intrigued him, however, was my attempts at my cursed techniques. He watched as I bobbed and weaved through his attacks, literally, whilst keeping my fist aimed towards him physical. It meant that, whilst none of his hits were landing, I was still able to attack whilst isolating parts of my body.

That required a lot of concentration and control.

So when I tried to apply positive energy, his grin became even wider. He watched as it flared between one hand and the other. However, when I stopped, he frowned.

“You can’t stop in the middle of a battle, brat.” he glared, “You dare waste my time?” I shook my head.

“I-I’m trying to do something but…”

“What is it now?” I frowned.

“If I can just combine them, I can use them simultaneously.” I mumbled, earning a raised brow. I looked down at my hands, brows furrowed, as I attempted to channel both positive energy and cursed energy together, only for it to create more positive energy. I growled.

“No one can use them simultaneously-” Sukuna began, ready to mock.

Until I did. I grinned.

“Emulsification.” I concluded, walking in a semicircle towards him. His gaze didn’t drop from my hands, “The ability to use Immunity as a barrier to mix positive energy AND cursed energy simultaneously, without cursed energy turning directly into positive energy.”

“You used the basic capability of Immunity to separate and yet mix the two.” he laughed, “Nice, very nice.” he commended before motioning for me to rush him, “Now fight me. Show me your worth.”

Unfortunately, Sukuna was anything but kind when it came to his fights. And I wasn’t good enough to avoid all of his hits as he attempted to throw me up into the reminder of the ceiling, sending me up and then down.

When I landed with a flip, I went for him again. Punch, kick, block. I couldn’t land a hit as he effortlessly dodged, hands in his pockets and a grin on his face.

When he punched me in the face, through the building and into the rain, he dragged me through the floor, making me groan as my head bled. Instantly I was already applying cursed energy preemptively to heal myself, but I didn’t realise one terrifying prospect.

“(L/N)-senpai?!”

My eyes widened when I heard Fushiguro. Shaking my head I got to my feet.

“Get out of here, Megumi-”

“Sorry, but he’s not coming back.” Sukuna greeted, appearing behind Fushiguro as I ran over towards him, getting between them, “Don’t be so frightened. I’m in a great mood right now.

“Let’s chat for a bit.” he concluded, walking past us with his hands in his pocket, casually, “This is what he gets for trying to use me without any kind of pact. Feels like he’s having some trouble switching back.

“Still, though…” Sukuna removed his shirt and hoodie, forcefully, “It’s only a matter of time.

“So… I thought about what I can do right now.”

To our shock and horror, Sukuna stabbed into his chest, causing him to cough up blood, and reached in. We both gasped.

“Wh-what are you…?” I shook my head.

“His heart…” our eyes widened.

“I’m taking this brat hostage. Fucking you was just the start.” Sukuna cackled, making Fushiguro look over at me, horrified as the realisation of what had happened to me, and why I was wearing different clothes, dawned upon him. However, he was distracted by the heart.

“Hostage?!” Fushiguro begged, tense.

“Yeah. I can live without this, but that ain’t true for the brat.” he revealed, throwing it to the side. I gulped.

“Switching out with me means he dies.”

‘Reverse cursed technique will be able to heal him, but I’d have to go through Sukuna; it’s not like he’s gonna let Itadori take control before dying nor will he let me use the technique without a fight…’

“Also…” he added, bringing out the finger the cursed spirit had had lodged in its chest, “For good measure.” he grinned, before slowly eating it, “With that, I’m free as a bird.

“You can be frightened now.” he tensed up, grinning maniacally, “I’ll kill you! For no particular reason.”

“Our positions are reversed now.” Fushiguro muttered before getting into position, “You just don’t get it. He’s…

“Itadori’s coming back.” he concluded, me nodding in agreement, “Even if that means he’ll die. That’s just who he is.”

“You give him too much credit. This guy’s just a little tougher and denser than other humans.” he smirked, wiping away the blood from his mouth, “Just a moment ago, he was scared out of his mind, on the verge of death, and prattling on about his regrets and all that nonsense.

“I know for a fact he doesn’t have the guts to kill himself.”

Fushiguro noted that Itadori’s hand was restored, clearly by one of the reverse cursed techniques. However, he also recognised that Sukuna was incarnated and that, therefore, he should still be affected being without a heart. He concluded he’d try to restore his heart before Itadori returns - and I was thinking similarly.

‘We need to restore his heart.’ I frowned, ‘If I could get get close enough to him to do it, we should be good-’

Fushiguro had no clue if he could do that, knowing how he reacted to the special-grade that Sukuna just killed, shaking. He also didn’t think I looked capable of doing the same. However, he concluded it wasn’t about if we ‘could’ - we had no choice.

Immediately Fushiguro signed for his Shikigami, bringing Nue to the front, making me gasp.

“Megumi-!”

Sukuna stretched as Fushiguro charged, Nue going to the other side of Sukuna, both ready to attack. I cursed, but followed, also on the offensive.

“I’m finally outside, after all.” Sukuna grinned, “Let’s use the open space.”

Fushiguro went for a kick, then two punches as I attacked from the other side, both missing as Sukuna dodged expertly, hands still in his pockets like before. More punches, none landing, ensued before Sukuna jumped to the side.

“Interesting.” he mused, “You use Shikigami, but you’ll still come at me yourself.” he concluded as he ignored me, batting off my attacks like a duck in water.

Nue dived, only for Sukuna to dodge again. Frustrated, Fushiguro went for another punch, then a kick as I tried to uppercut him before going for his gut, both trying to take advantage of Nue’s distraction, only for him to continue dodging with his hands still in his pockets.

Fushiguro and I continued to punch and kick with all our might. And Sukuna watched in amusement, chanting, “More.” He then, in a change of pace, grabbed Fushiguro’s fist and pulled him towards himself before swinging him, “More!” he concluded, pulling him so they were face to face, “Put more curse behind it,” he practically purred before backhanding Fushiguro, “when you strike me!”

“Megumi!” I yelled.

“Orochi!” Fushiguro yelled, signing for him. Unperturbed, Sukuna let the Shikigami bite him, pulling him into the sky, “Gang up on him!”

“Megumi, withdraw!” I yelled, seeing his cursed energy flaring even as Nue came in with sparks flying.

Unfortunately, I was too late as Sukuna split Orochi from the inside out and suddenly he was on the ground, fist grappling the back of Fushiguro’s blazer. I gulped, running towards them, unprepared for Sukuna’s next move.

“Hey, what did I just say?” he uttered before throwing Fushiguro through the air.

“Megumi!” I cried before cursing. Quickly I used Nullification to fly after them, going to kick Sukuna before he could reach Fushiguro, only for him to grab my foot, spin me in the air and throw me into Fushiguro.

“Let’s use the open space!” Before leaping after us and kicking us both into the buildings, forcing us both across two buildings.

That wasn’t enough, of course. He then appeared to Fushiguro’s left and kicked him into another building, forcing him through it and out the other side. Before throwing me in the same direction. I just about had time to react, activating Nullification on the descent. My legs were broken and I was suffering many serious injuries. So as I healed myself I looked for Fushiguro, cursing myself for not being capable of healing others.

Nue, on it, swooped in, grappling Fushiguro mid-air as Fushiguro lamented in his mind about how powerful Sukuna is, only for him to jump up, ready to strike them down.

“Nice technique there.” he noted, battering them down and into a building, to which they collapsed through until hitting the bottom.

“Megumi!” I yelled, appearing beside him. Fushiguro, on the other hand, concluded it was best to withdraw Nue before he’s destroyed like Orochi, reminding him of how White Dog was also destroyed.

“I get it now.” Sukuna noted, hands on his hips, “So your Shikigami are created from shadows.

“So what?”

“Hmm…” Sukuna mused, hand to chin, “I don’t get it, though. Why did you run back then?” he chuckled, releasing his chin and motioning his hand outwards, “What a waste of talent.” that caught Fushiguro’s attention, “Whatever.

“Either way, that won’t be enough to fix this.” he directed at the gaping hole in his chest. I deflated as Fushiguro smirked, both realising our plan was figured out, “You’re risking your life over stupid shit. This brat isn’t even worth that much.” Fushiguro hobbled to stand, barely stable as I supported him, only for him to push me behind him as I was close to passing out.

However, he began to get into position, cursed energy enveloping his body, all as he thought of his sister and her curse as well as his deadbeat father. Then it moved onto his desires of wanting more good people to enjoy fairness with no thanks to karma.

“Nice!” Sukuna grinned, “That’s it.

“So this is when you start burning through your life! Now I see.” he uttered, walking forward, “Well, in that case… Show me, Fushiguro Megumi!” he cried.

It was in that moment everything clicked for me. I could digest cursed energy, break it down and read it. It was enough that I could understand Sukuna’s cursed technique and possibly utilise it myself. Everything made sense.

So I watched as Fushiguro prepared his attack and I swallowed, hard, my head hurting.

“Sacred treasure swing and ring, ring, Eight Grip-!”

Suddenly all of his cursed energy left him. He stood there in the rain, still in stance. I was prepared to fight as I was nearly fully healed, but he relaxed slightly, confusing me as I slumped on the ground, spent.

“Just so you know, I… don’t have any logical reason for saving you back then.” Fushiguro admitted, “Even if it was dangerous, I couldn’t bear to see a good person like you die.

“I did have my reservations, but ultimately, it was for selfish, emotional reasons.

“That’s fine, though.” he added, “I’m not a hero.” he released his form and relaxed as Itadori began to take back control, “I’m a jujutsu sorcerer.

“So I’ve never once regretted saving you.”

“Yuji…” I began to cry, shaking my head, unable to use positive energy any longer.

“I see.” Itadori grinned, rubbing the back of his head, “You really are smart, Fushiguro. You’ve put more thought into this than I have.” he admitted before concluding, “I think your conviction’s a proper one, but I don’t think mine is wrong, either.”

More blood spilled from his wound as blood stilled in his body. There wasn’t long left and he knew it. I was close to blacking out.

“Oh, sorry, I’m almost done for.” he reminded, “Guess I won’t have to worry about you both, Kugisaki, or Gojo-sensei.” he uttered before beginning to fall, done for, “Live a long life.”

Fushiguro’s lip wobbled as he held in tears. I, on the other hand, openly bawled my eyes out.

“Yuji…” I cried, bringing my hands to my face as I crouched down beside him, shaking my head. To my surprise, I felt Fushiguro place a hand gently on my head, making me look up.

He gave a weak smile. It held sadness and empathy.

I returned it before passing out.

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