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#but the ‘hey wouldn’t this just be absolutely Fucked Up?
samandcolbyownme · 2 days
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can you do something where jake’s gf struggles with depression, and he helps her feel better? tysm 🙏🖤
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Prompt: Reader is texting their best friend about how insecure they feel and [whoever] oversees.
This is going to be kinda sad, but i promise it’ll get spicy.
Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, talk of insecurities, reader being upset, Jake comforts reader, unprotected sex, oral (f rec), hair pulling, biting, kissing, scratching, creampie, breeding kink, fluff mixed with filth
Word count: 2.6k | not edited
——
The last few days have been exhausting, mainly because you’ve been acting like everything is fine - when in reality, you felt like you would explode if you looked at yourself in a mirror.
You haven’t taken selfies in weeks.
You’ve denied brand deals because of how ugly your brain is making you feel, but you got scolded for not posting enough so you had to, forcibly? kick it into high gear and that helped matters in absolutely no way.
And - when you’re an influencer who is also dating another influencer, it seems like you’re always on camera in some kind of way.
The last few days, the only time you really got to break down and feel all the sadness you’ve been hiding, is when you can sneak away from Jake’s grasp in the middle of the night and take a shower.
You felt horrible for keeping it from him, but you just felt like it was repetitive and you didn’t want to get on his nerves more than you felt you already do.
But luckily, your best friend, Gwenyth, is there to save the day.
She’s always telling you how much Jake loves you, and you know he does. You knew everything she tells you is true, you just need to get yourself to actually believe it.
You came to a party with Jake, it was just a small one, but you still didn’t want to be here.
And that was obvious, as you were sat over by the fireplace, knees to your chest as you gently scratched the head of the random cat that’s curled up at your feet.
Y/n, Jake absolutely adores you. I promise you he won’t get annoyed by you saying something, Gwenyth texts, You have to give yourself a break, you’ve been working non stop these last few weeks and I feel like that’s a big part of your issue.
You sigh, bringing your hand up to text, you’ve had a few drinks so your motions are kind of sluggish, Jake calls me beautiful like it’s my name, G. I love him so much, I just feel like such a burden when I walk up to him and basically fish for compliments.
You take a sip of your drink, going back to petting the cat as you wait for Gwenyth’s text. You’ve been texting for probably the last half hour and most of it consisted on comparing yourself to the other girls who are there at this party.
That ties into why feeling like this, also makes you feel like Jake will leave you for someone prettier, and you just don’t know how to say something like that to him.
You look down, bringing your phone up as her text comes through, Its genuinely affecting you, y/n. You have absolutely no reason to hate yourself, you are gorgeous, trust me. You wouldn’t have Jake if you weren’t sexy as fuck, I mean look at him.
You smirk slightly, shaking your head as you take a sip of your drink. You jump slightly when you see Jake starting to sit down next to you.
You lock your phone quickly and put on a smile as you look up at him, “Hey baby. Whatcha doin’?”
He smiles, “I was actually coming over here to ask you that, actually.” He motions to the cat, “Who’s this?”
You shrug, “I don’t know, he just walked up to me and laid at my feet.”
Jake laughs slightly and you can tell there’s something on his mind. You tilt your head, reaching up to run a hand through his hair, “What’s going on?”
He nods as he moves to stand up, “C’mon.” He holds his hand out and you look down to grab your stuff before moving the cat from your shoes.
You take Jake’s hand and stand up, and as soon as you’re on your feet, his arms are around your waist and you’re pulled into his body.
“Jake?” You whisper, arms moving to wrap around his neck, “Are you okay? What’s-“
His lips cut your words by crashing onto yours. His hands slide up your body and he cups your jaw, fingers laying over your neck and ears, “You are fucking perfect in every single way, you hear me?”
You nod and he kisses your cheek, “I’m taking you home, and I’m going to show you every single thing I love about you and tell you why.”
You squeeze your thighs together, letting out a whimper at his words and he smirks, “Come on.”
“Aren’t we saying bye?” You ask and Jake laughs, “Fuck that. I got more important shit to tend to right now.”
His arm snakes around your waist as he pulls you with him, leading you to his car, “I really like this dress on you.”
Jake bites his lip as he watches you get in, your tits bouncing as you sit down onto the seat. Jake nods, smacking his lips, “Yeah. I love this fucking dress on you.”
You look up at him as he closes the door and you smile, eyes following him as he walks around to the drivers seat, “you are so fucking beautiful.”
You smirk, “You didn’t tell me why you like my dress.”
He taps the steering wheel and gasps, “Fuck, my bad. Alright. Your tits-“ his eyes move down to your chest, “-bounce- I mean.. look so good in it.”
You can feel your cheeks heating up and you shake your head, “Seen my texts with Gwenyth?”
“She’s right you know. I’m actually obsessed with you, like.. I can’t go a day without kissing or even talking to you.” Jake reaches over, pulling you into him, “I promise you, as long as you’re fully in it with me, I’m fully in it with you.”
You can feel your eyes burning, but you hold back the tears, “Of course I am.” You close the space, “Now take me home and love on me.”
He nods, “Anything for you, my girl.”
You smile, Jake was always the key to calming you down, grounding you when you got too worked up about things.
But for some reason, you can’t fight back the tears and as Jake comes to a stop, he looks over at you, “Whoa, hey. Sweetheart. Talk to me.”
He squeezes your hand and you gasp, “I-i am my own biggest hater.”
Jake nods his head, his fingers pressing into the back of your hand as he squeezes your hand harder, “I understand what you mean, baby. I think we’re all our own worst critic in certain ways.”
“I just..” you take a deep breath, wiping your tears away with the back of your free hand, “I just, I feel so bad when I get like this because I don’t want to annoy you-“
“Whoa, whoa.” Jake holds his hand up for a second, “You don’t ever annoy me. So far in our relationship, the two years that we’ve been together, you haven’t annoyed me once.”
You feel a smile creep into your face before you look down, “I think that’s just one of the biggest flaws with dating me.” You look up and out the window.
“What’s that, babe?” Jake glances over at you and you laugh slightly, “I need a lot of reassurance and I also have anxiety about it so I just working myself to where I think you’re going to find someone prettier than me a l-“
Enough was already said.
Jake pulls into the driveway and stops the car.
Perfect timing, right.
“You think there’s some out out there prettier than you?” Jake raises his brows and shakes his head, “Nah, nah. C’mere.”
He wiggles his fingers as he leans in to rest his elbow on the console, his hand lying on your neck before brushing your hair back, “Don’t ever think that. There is no one I would rather be with, okay? I have the most fun with you.”
He rests his forehead against yours, “You..are the absolute love of my life and once we get in here, I’m going to enjoy proving that little voice in your head wrong.”
You can’t help but smile and nod, allowing him to peck your lips one last time before he gets out and quickly moves around to open your door.
It’s not long before you’re inside and he’s kisses along your jaw as he backs you towards the couch. You look up at him as he has you sit down.
Your eyes follow him as he sits next to you, hand stroking the bare skin of your thigh as he leans in to kiss down your neck.
You let out a sigh, moving to place a hand on his chest as he sucks a purple mark into your skin.
Jake’s voice is low, “I love your skin and how soft it is under my lips.”
You slide your hand up, moving it through his hair, “I love you, Jake.” You whimper out, spreading your thighs as you feel his hand slide down between them.
“I love how you are mine. I love how eager you are for me.” He groans against your skin as he slips a finger into your panties and feels how wet he has you, “I love this fucking pussy..”
His lips trail down your neck, “..love how wet you get for me.” He glides a finger up and down your slit slowly, stopping for a second before pushing it in.
“Only you.” You moan out, turn your head to kiss him, “always you.”
Your lips move together in a sloppy, yet heated motion as he adds a second finger, “I love how much you’re mine.”
He curls his fingers upward, drawing out a whine from you and he chuckles slightly, “I always have to tell myself..” he kisses your cheek a few times, fingers still working inside of you, “That you’re mine because I just..”
He groans into your neck, pushing his clothed bulge against your thigh, “You’re fucking insane to me.” He kisses over your collar bone, “The noises you make, fuck. I zone out during videos because I’ll remember how good you looked on top of me the night before.”
“Or even right before you film.” You mumble out, gasping as you feel yourself working towards your peak pleasure.
“Mm.” Jake hums, “Such a naughty girl sometimes.” He glances down at his fingers, “Think you can take a third?”
You start nodding before he even finishes his sentence and all he can do is smirk before leaning in and pressing his lips to your neck, “I love seeing how much you can take.”
You gasp, eyes rolling back as you feel his ring finger slip in against his two others, “Fuck, Jake.” You lift your head, staring down at his fingers sliding in and out of you.
“I fucking love how your pussy squeezes my fingers.” He groans as he ruts his bulge against your thigh again, “It’s even better when my dick is in there, isn’t it?”
You moan loudly, hips rolling forward, “Y-yes. Yes. P-please.”
“Cum for me first.” He crashes his lips onto yours, fingers pushing and pulling you towards what you feel your body craving.
“Keep talking.” You breathe out, walls clenching and unclenching around his fingers as your breathing grows faster.
“Fuck.” Jake groans, “I love everything about you. I love how I’m who knows you. Knows your body..” he bites down on his lip, resting his head against yours, “inside and out.”
You tangle your fingers in his hair, moaning out loudly as your nails dig into the soft surface of the cushion below you, “S-so so close.”
“I love how your face scrunches up with pleasure when I touch you.” Jake continues, “How your moans get all high pitched when you cum.”
Instantly, those high pitched moans are let loose as your orgasm is guided through by his fingers.
Your hand wraps around his wrist and your back arches off the couch, “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Yesyesyes!”
“Do you love it when I make you feel good?” Jake asks lowly as you whimper at the loss of his fingers.
You nod, looking over at him, slightly dazed from your orgasm, “Yes.”
He kisses your forehead before pulling you to lay on the couch. He moves between your legs and smirks, “I love making you feel good.”
You smirk as you watch his hands move to undo his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers to allow his cock to spring free.
He leans down, one hand above your head on the arm of the couch and his other hooked under your one knee, “I love watching the way your pussy swallows my cock.”
You gasp, looking down just as he slips his cock into you. Your eyes rolling back as you let out a loud gasp, head falling back as he thrusts in deeper.
“You are the only one I want.” Jake whispers in your ear, “You are the only one I need.”
He lets go of your leg and reaches up to turn your head towards him, “I’m yours.”
You gasp quietly as you pull him closer to you. He smirks, his thrusts slow down and he bites his lip, “Say it.. say that I’m yours.”
“You’re mine.” You whisper out and Jake nods, “Fuck yeah. Louder baby, c’mon.”
You tangle your fingers in his hair and look at him, “You’re mine.”
“Always.” He kisses your lips, thrusts picking up to a faster pace that has you squealing beneath him, “That’s it baby.” Jake pants out, “Does that feel good?”
You let out a loud moan, back arching off the couch as you nod, “Yes, yes.” You squeeze his cock with your walls and he groans, “One more time.”
“Cum in me.”
“Yeah? Want me to fill you, huh?” Jake groans lowly in your ear and you melt into him even more, “Yes.” You shine, “Please, please please.”
“Make you a mama.” Jake moans, pushing his cock deeper into you, “A sexy fucking mama. Fuck.”
You moan, coming undone around him once again, “Fuck, please, Jake.” You look up at him, whimpering as you feel his cock twitch, “yes d-daddy.”
“Oh fuck.” Jake groans as he grips your hip, moaning as his cock pumps his cum into you. He looks down at you, smirking as he leans in for a kiss, “I love how you’re just as insane as I am.”
You smirk and shrug, “We’re made for each other.”
Jake’s jaw drops slightly and he nods, “You’re damn right.” He leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips before he stands up to lead you upstairs to clean up.
“I meant everything I said.”
You look up at him, “I know.”
He tilts his head as he sits down on the bed next to you, “Do you? I want you to know that you are who I want to eventually spend the rest of my life with.” He stands up, still not dressed and you shake your head, “Jake, what are you doing?”
“I wasn’t..” Jake says, but pauses as he rummages through his dresser drawers, “Shit.” He bends down to pick up a pair of shorts he threw down and he puts them.
“Jake?” You go to get up but he stops you, “Don’t. You stay right there.”
He leaves the room and you manage to throw on a t shirt and shorts before he comes back and he instantly walks over to you and drops down to know knee, “Why not start the rest of our lives together now?”
You look from the ring between his fingers and to him, “yes.”
“Yes?”
You nod, “Yes!”
“Yes!” Jake yells standing up. He pushes the ring onto your finger and pulls you into him, “Fucking, hell yes.”
——
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emphistic · 13 hours
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Écoute Chérie
A/N: grr
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When a certain someone — specifically a blond male, showed up to Sukuna’s door that next morning holding a wad of cash in his hand, Sukuna wanted nothing more than to sock him in the jaw. But he contained himself, saying, “Keep that shit for yourself. I don’t want it.”
“Oh? You backing out now, Captain?”
“. . .You’re one sick fuck, Zen’in.” He snatched the money out of the younger’s hands, before slamming his door shut.
Pride is a terrible, terrible thing, and Ryomen Sukuna was full of it.
“Oh, my God, girl! I feel like we moved on a little too quickly. Pause: He—you—you guys KISSED? Stop, don’t—don’t play with me right now. I can’t even get a guy to let me cheat off of him on a final, but you kissed someone on the FIRST date. Let me say that again, FIRST date?! As in the first EVER date you two have been on together.”
If you were counting — which you weren’t, this would have been the seventy-ninth time you giggled out loud this evening. You and Nobara were sitting — no, standing, actually, with you leaning forward with your elbows on the counter, and the brunette doing likewise. You decided — well, you were forced — to fill her in on all that happened the day before. You had just gotten off of your shift, and, obviously, were still in your uniform, but Nobara insisted you tell her anyway. She wouldn’t and “couldn’t” wait until you got back to your apartment.
“Yes, Nobs, for the hundredth time. We kissed and even added a little bit of tongue and then he walked me back to my apartment and we fucked all night.”
The look on her face was absolutely priceless, her jaw dropped to the floor and even broke through the tiles and went further beneath the surface. Just kidding; because that’s not possible, but her expression was even more funny after you said, “I’m just messing with you, girl. I have some self-worth left, believe it or not, and I wouldn’t sleep with someone after the first date.”
“Funny how you decided to deny only that part.”
“. . .”
“Don’t—don’t tell me the rest was true. Oh, my God! STOP! I was only kidding; but you—you actually added tongue? What the fuck? And, you just decided to not call me right after? Wow.” Nobara crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air for only a few seconds before she went back to gripping your shoulders and shaking your body. “You are such a freak, my God.”
“He also walked me to my door, y’know. No need to focus on only those parts.” You tried to bring her focus onto that, because you found that part the most adorable.
Truth was, the only reason you didn’t immediately call Nobara that night was because you spent the last few hours of that night screaming into your pillow like a schoolgirl and reminiscing on all that happened.
“You know,” you started, turning to face the man behind you, “you didn’t have to walk me all the way to my door, right? I could’ve just gone by myself.” 
You had insisted and insisted to Sukuna that you would be fine, and that the other residents of the building were friendly and cordial, but Sukuna ignored every one of your pleas and walked right next to you anyway. From the parking lot, to the elevators, and down the hallway, Sukuna never left your side, and actually, was surprisingly nice company. You two talked on the way about how good or bad the food at the game was, how hot and humid it was, how annoying the older gentleman beside your seats was, you two talked plenty enough.
“I know. I wanted to.” Sukuna stopped to lean against the wall beside your apartment, crossing his arms as you pulled out your keys.
“Hey, so, I had a lot of fun today. I guess baseball isn’t as boring as I thought it was,” you laughed, scratching the back of your neck. “Thanks for inviting me.” You had tried to tell him on the car ride to your place, but you chickened out.
Sukuna snorted, “No problem; my pleasure, actually. And, I had a lot of fun, too. I think I enjoyed today more than I would if Yuuji was there instead of you. So thank you for coming.”
“Oh, please. Don’t lie; he’s literally your brother. Besides, Yuuji’s not even here to defend himself. Kinda rude, if I say so myself.”
“I’m not lying, though, really. I enjoyed today. I can’t even remember the last time I was able to leave the house for anything fun and actually, sincerely, enjoy it.” Sukuna moved his head as he spoke, as if in a way to accentuate his point. You found that completely and utterly adorable. Just the thought of you being part of making his day alone made you blush, and you looked away sheepishly.
“I’m glad you had a nice time, Sukuna. And thank you, again, for today.” You caught Sukuna by surprise — beyond surprise, actually — when you cupped his face in your hands and brought your lips to his cheek for a chaste kiss. Mwah! The sound was audible through the night. And it was the sound which replayed over and over in Sukuna’s mind as he lay completely awake for hours past midnight in bed. The only thing he dreamt of — when he eventually fell asleep, that is — was you. You.
Now that he thought of it, there were no words to describe you. No words to describe your beauty, though, ethereal did come close. No words to describe the smile which you gave him when you two passed each other on campus. No words to describe how friendly and comforting the melody of your voice sounded to him; if you were a siren, and he, a pirate, Sukuna would dive headfirst into the water. No words to describe how drunk, how dizzy, how pathetic you made Sukuna, even with mere eye contact. But, there was a word to describe Sukuna.
It’s quite simple, actually.
Sukuna was whipped. Absolutely enamored of you. But. . . Very unfortunate he only noticed now. And, it was such, such a shame that he was also full of pride.
“Okay, that’s so romantic, though! I can’t believe it. My friend is gonna get with the love of her life, and I don’t even know how to turn the stove on. Oh, my God. My friend’s getting with the love of her life. OH, MY GOD!” That was not even close to the last time you would hear Nobara say “Oh, my God” that night.
-
“You wouldn’t happen to . . . y’know . . . have plans . . . this weekend?”
You didn’t know why Sukuna kept on pausing, but you knew it was oddly suspicious.
“And if I did?”
“Then, I wouldn’t ask you to . . . help me . . . with some . . . math.”
“Sukuna, are you okay? You sound like you’re being held at gunpoint.” You crossed your arms, failing to stifle a giggle. You really couldn’t fathom why he was acting so strange. Sukuna couldn’t, either. 
Ever since the day you both went to that baseball game together, Sukuna’s been different, to say the least. And yeah, maybe after kissing someone for the first time changes your behavior towards them, but still, it was strange. 
He wasn’t as cocky when going over his daily feats at basketball practice; he wasn’t as blunt and insulting to freshmans whom you two came across while on campus; he wasn’t as teasing or sharp with his remarks as he usually was; he wasn’t as assertive and casual whilst slinging an arm ‘round your shoulder. He wasn’t him. Then again, Sukuna also didn’t know why he was acting this way.
“I’m . . . fine. I’m fine.”
“Okay. . . Anyways, I am free. So yeah, I can. My place or yours?”
“Ah, you don’t have a lot of good alcohol,” Sukuna tapped his index finger repeatedly on his chin, as if contemplating which location to use was very difficult for someone like him. “I get bored with just water. So, it’ll have to be mine. ‘Sides, I don’t think Gigi likes me that much anyway.”
You laughed. Sukuna wasn’t very keen on having you tutor him while your apparently “murderous” cat was present. Giselle, also known by her nickname ‘Gigi’, was a black-furred breed, with very sharp, untrimmed nails, which proved useful whenever Sukuna came over to hang out with you or do some other shit. Maybe it was because of how provocative Sukuna and his usual cold demeanor were. Maybe it was because of how close Sukuna got to Gigi’s owner whenever you sat down on the couch together. Maybe it was because of the fact Sukuna took your attention off of your so precious cat whenever he stepped foot into the apartment. Maybe it was because Sukuna was just Sukuna. And Gigi didn’t like that one bit.
“Alright, since you’re afraid of a mere feline, which — mind you, is less than a quarter of both your height and size.”
“Well, that feline comes from the depths of Hell. So yeah, excuse me if I prefer to stay sixty miles away from it.”
“Gigi comes from Hell, now? Pfft—she’s probably just excited to see her previous neighbor, then,” you snorted.
Sukuna gave you a side glance, hiding his growing grin. He was not about to openly admit you were even slightly funny. No, he would never give you that kind of satisfaction.
“Okay, so can you tell me what the variable ‘d’ is?” You had explained the formulas as best as you could, even taking it a step further and dumbing it down immensely. Then you left the living room to put away the dishes, leaving the pink-haired male to attempt his assignment on his own. — With some guidance here and there.
Sukuna and you had ordered Chinese, deciding to study while eating. And while your plan for energizing proved to be frustrating at first — since a certain someone didn’t know how to eat with his mouth closed, you had become used to it by the end. Your tactic? Drowning out the audible chewing noises. Eugh.
“Why don’t you come over here, and I’ll show you.” Sukuna leaned his head on the cushions, wrapping an arm around the back of the sofa.
You scrunched up your face in reply, pausing in the middle of scrubbing food and gunk and whatever off of the porcelain plates. “Pass.
“I told you already, Sukuna. The exponential functions are the ones that slowly curve up; think of it as this: good things happen to a bad thing. Get it? Like, their lives are getting better. And, since I know you’ve already forgotten, a ‘y’ value can have as many ‘x’ values, but the ‘x’ value is . . . unambiguous, so it only has one ‘y’ value. Now, does that help?” 
“Ugh, this is such a bore. How can anyone pay attention to these types of things long enough in class to be good at it? Fuck.”
You took his consequent silence as him giving up on life and continuing to work on solving the problem in his evident misery, but oh, how wrong you were.
“S’kuna, what are you doing?” you sucked in a breath. He was so close. So close, to you. You thought it had only been two seconds, but in those two seconds, it only took Ryomen Sukuna four easy strides to end up here. — With his chest pressed almost right up against your back. Key word: almost. Yes, Ryomen Sukuna was so close, but still, so far.
“Helping you.” God, did he have to be that ambiguous all the time? He was like a walking enigma, a puzzle, a riddle, for you to solve. A mystery for which you would soon lose sleep over.
Sukuna easily grabbed several dried plates, removing them from the rack, and storing them in the cabinet above your head. His hand left lingering touches on your arm as they passed by each other. You slowly, gradually, accumulated a mountain of goosebumps.
It was infuriating.
He was so close, but not close enough.
Every time he moved to grab another plate, he would rest his hand upon your hip or on the curve of your waist. Sometimes he ran his large-scaled hands up your middle; sometimes he moved them lower, and lower. Was he trying to give you heart palpitations?
“Y’know,” he started, his voice dripping with honey, “you can keep breathing, right? What, do I smell that bad?” he snickered.
“I—what—why—what the hell are you doing?” You wanted to argue that he had no sense of personal space, which, yes, was true, but you feared he would stop whatever he was doing at the moment. And, you didn’t want that.
“I’m . . . helping . . . you.” He bent down to your level, lips brushing your ear as he spoke, and his hot breath fanning your ear. 
There it was again. That ‘pausing thing’ of his. But, this time, it was different. Earlier he was pausing as if he was unsure, but now, he was pausing just to create suspense and further rile you up. He clearly knew what he was doing; he knew what he was doing to you. Poor ol’ you, who just innocently wanted to wash some dishes.
You had previously wanted to turn around and properly face him in order to confront him better, but now, you didn’t dare meet his eyes. Not like you could, anyway, you were stuck between the counter and him. Your eyelashes fluttered, as your eyes darted here and there. And your palms began to sweat, you quickly wiped them on the material of your sweater, but your continued attempts were futile.
“No—no, you’re not.” You struggled to stifle your heavy breathing, and it took you quite a time to form a sentence without giving away the tight feeling in your chest.
“Yeah? Then, how could I help you, hm? Tell me,” he spoke your name firmly, like he was anticipating your breaking, and egging you on nevertheless. Then again, how could he not be? It had been days, days, since you two went to that game. Days since he felt like he was in heaven and talking to an angel. Days since he felt your lips on his. Days since he felt well. Days. And for days, he’s been restless, hungry, thirsty, empty. Hell, forget about your predicament, he was the one close to breaking.
“Tell me,” he said your name, again. “Tell me, pretty girl. Tell me.”
“. . .You can help by telling me what the fuck we’re doing right now.”
“Don’t you already know? And here, I thought it was obvious.” Sukuna bit his lip, but that didn’t help any bit in suppressing his laugh.
“What . . . are we . . . doing?” You repeated.
Sukuna was silent, for a moment, “You’re tutoring me, on math.”
“I already know that, dumbass. I mean, what are we doing?”
“You’re gonna need to be a little more specific than that.”
“Oh, my God—what are we doing? What are we? For fuck’s sake. How thick is your skull really, damn.” You finally mustered the courage to twist your body around, and though you were only met with his chest, you sighed and looked upward to meet his face.
“That’s a little harsh.”
You glowered at Sukuna.
“Okay, okay. I’ll talk,” he cleared his throat. “We’re . . . just us. I don’t know what to tell you. Sukuna and you. You and Sukuna. That’s all there is to it, right?”
For a second, you thought he was referencing what you had previously said to Nobara, but then the rational side of your brain kicked in and said, “No, there’s no way he could’ve overhead that,” and so, the surprised expression disappeared from your face as you looked down at the floor of the kitchen.
“We’re friends, yeah, that’s all there is to it. . . But friends don’t do . . . this. So we clearly, definitely, shouldn’t be doing this.”
“So, we can pretend we’re not doing this, right? There, fixed the problem.”
“And if I don’t want to pretend we’re not doing this?”
“Then don’t; we don’t have to pretend.”
“But—”
“Please,” he looked at you with such an earnest expression on his features, “don’t say that word. Not again. You’ve no idea, no idea, how much it drives me crazy when you say that word. Mad, insane, deranged. Anything but that, please, anything. We’re clearly not friends. We’re clearly not just friends. So please, don’t call whatever we have as that. I’m sick of it.”
“If we’re not friends, then, what are we?” Your voice was just above a whisper, and you couldn’t even recall when it turned out that way. 
“. . .We’re whatever you want us to be. . . What do you want us to be?”
“No, you decide, Sukuna. What do you want us to be?” You gingerly laid a palm on top of his chest.
“I decide?”
You nodded, “Whatever you want to be . . . will be.”
“I want us to be . . . us. Together. Just us. No one else; just you and me.”
“Okay. I’d like that.”
He took your hand from his chest and held it in his, as if in a way to seal his promise. “I’m glad.”
Having had a couple beers — in favor of Sukuna giving up on attempting any more math, you were a little drunk. Just a little. 
“You have a stupid, stupid face, but it’s still my favorite. It’s my favorite to stare out. It’s my favorite to kiss. It’s my favorite to rub — your skin is so soft. It’s my favorite. My favorite.” 
He let you pepper as many pecks as you wanted onto his cheek, but when you tried to give Sukuna a proper kiss on the lips, he quickly moved his face to the side so you unintentionally planted your lips on his cheek instead. 
For, he didn’t want you to freak out in the morning and think he was the type of guy to take advantage of someone while they were even a little bit tipsy.
Besides, he had just gotten you. He couldn’t lose you now, could he.
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A/N: i love portraying raw emotion
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greenxgloss · 3 days
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Meet Cute -2-
Taglist: @nevvdrinksteaa @romanroyapoligist @444rockstargf @wildathevrt @urmomsucksfrogs @hxllhxund @xxbl00d-cl0txx @lucidfever @teamokirkhammett @kappasbbgirl @jasperthefriendlyghostt
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“oh? Little Miss Troubled Home wants me to save her again?”
contents: suggestive language, underage drinking, angst, fluff
Tonight you were glued to your bedroom window, unsure when to call Clyde. usually, the boy has to think about this. maybe that’s why they’d take so long sometimes, you thought, remembering all those times your girlfriends would be sat, waiting by their phones for a boy to call. the more you contemplated the more you muffled out background noise, which included your phones ringing.
when you snapped out of it you answered the call. “party at my house tonight. you comin'?” your friend Myra spoke through the phone, her excitement bubbling. “oh absolutely.” you giggled.
myra was one of your few friends who stayed behind this summer while everyone else was off getting settled in their dorms and student housing or browsing college campuses. myra threw epic ragers every summer which included the occasional drunk girl puking into a vase or fern and some one-night stand taking place in the master bedroom. all the fixings for a night you’d definitely remember.
you quickly dressed up, sprayed your perfume and rushed down the stairs. “hey mom gonna be at Myra’s. don’t wait up for me.” you spoke as quickly as you rushed. “call me if you need anything.” she managed to get out, neglecting to look up from her old erotica, probably dreaming of Fabio inching his hands up her blouse. you cringed at the thought and stumbled out the front door as you got your second shoe on.
as you walked down the street to Myra’s you wondered if you should tell her about Clyde. then you spiralled into a black hole of thought, deciding what you thought of Clyde and if he was worth telling your friends about.
“Hey! Drinks in the kitchen. not everyone’s here yet.” Myra exclaimed as she embraced you at her front door. “been craving a shot for days. took a while for you to throw a party this summer.” you said to Myra as she led you to the kitchen, handed you a beer and began pouring you a shot. “oh yeah parents had stuff to do before they left for the month.” she recounted as you cracked the can open. “anything new for you yet? summer's been in session for a week. something's had to have happened.” she speculated as she poured her own shot. “I swear you only ask me that when something is new.” you giggled as you cheered your shot glasses and downed your liquid courage.
“a mother knows, y/n.” she joked, not even wincing. you decided this year you were going to do better on your grades even though you wouldn’t dare set foot on a post-secondary campus. just to prove to your parents… well you don’t know what you were proving but you do know that the self-discipline you mastered in the last 10 months saved you from alcoholism so you won’t regret it at all. “I was at the skate park the other day and I maybe met a boy.” you smiled, walking away to leave Myra chasing after you. "no fucking way?” she just about screamed. “yup and I slept over at his house.” you giggled as you walked into Myra’s room and sat on her bed.
“you had sex?! Is this about your whole revelation?” she gasped leading you to roll your eyes. “no that’s the best part. he was sweet and I told him I didn’t want to go home so we just talked until we fell asleep.” you explained the night you’d spent at Clyde’s. Myra's expression said it all, absolute joy plastered on her face. “oh I know his dick is big.” she said, nudging your shoulder, both of you almost spilling your drinks. “Myra!!” you scolded. “the point is that it wasn’t sexual. it wasn’t even romantic. we were just there. I don’t know it might be too soon to tell but I think I like him.” you told her as you laid back on her bed. “wow. y/n liking someone. never thought I’d see the day.” she joked.
Throughout high school, you were stuck on the notion that boys were gross. and they were, but you realized at some point, between prom and graduation, that it was just the boys at your school that were gross. you were eager to escape the unhygienic and stinky boy funk that was the male population at your high school and you finally let yourself be open to the idea of dates, flowers, and kisses. but for some reason now that you’ve allowed yourself to become available guys stopped asking you out. there was a drought and you were disappointed.
“sooo tell me more about this mystery boy.” Myra begged and this alone worked you up. “he’s gorgeous. long dark hair, light eyes, typical skater apparel, band manager with his own apartment THE WHOLE NINE, MYRA.” you gushed thinking about Clyde, shaking Myra by her shoulders. “band manager?! where'd you find this guy?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Right!?” you giggled. "what was it like? how’d you end up in his apartment?” she quizzed you, indulging in your excitement about this boy.
you began telling Myra all about Clyde, minding every detail. "I just don't know when to call." you scoffed at your indecisiveness. “I guess when it feels right. when you need him around, you'll know. wait till it feels natural y'know?” she coached you. you’d never gotten serious with a boy, partly because you've never liked a boy but you do like Clyde. watching every '90s romcom growing up made you feel like something was wrong with you because you'd never had feelings for anyone. but boy did you love those movies.
“All right I need another drink.” Myra laughed as she stood off her bed, returning to the kitchen. “oh!! you have Malibu?” you exclaimed as you poured yourself another shot and downed it. before you could put your shot glass down someone bumped into you and spilled their entire drink all over your top. you gasped loudly before they could begin to apologize. “fuck I’m so sorry!” he squealed in embarrassment as he handed you a rag. “it’s okay don’t stress.” you sighed, dabbing your clothes as dry as you could though your shirt had soaked the alcohol up.
“do you want a change of clothes?” Myra asked, sympathetically as you walked off, now with water to drink. you felt defeated and tired like this was karma for some odd reason. “no, I think this is my queue to leave.” you answered, causing worry to spill over Myra’s face. “what? but you always sleep over after my parties.” she cried out. Still, you shrugged. “yeah that was because I didn’t want my mom to give me shit for being drunk.” you began as you continued drying yourself off. “what and she’s not gonna give you shit now?” she asked as you both walked into her bathroom. she sat up on the counter and you looked up at her. “I can stay over another time if that’s what you’re worried about.” you giggled. “my mom is laying off now that I’m 18 so it’s all good there. I’ll sit out in your room for a while so she doesn’t ask why I’m back so soon.” you comprised, hoping she’d calm down.
you both smiled at each other in silence before Myra began laughing. “Fine! Fine!” she rolled her eyes. “but you’re coming back tomorrow.” she begged, getting ahold of both your hands and squeezing them. “okay alright I’ll be here tomorrow afternoon.” you assured her as you began washing your hands and finally walked out to her room.
once Myra went out to host her now full house you pulled out your phone and called Clyde. “hey I’ve been waiting for your call.” he spoke. you could swear his smile was audible. “oh you miss me?” you giggled, now subconsciously playing with your hair. “could be, who knows.” he spoke, vague but obvious. “so what’s up?” he asked, his excitement settling. “well I’m at a party and someone spilled their drink all over me and I’m just kind of bummed out, bored sitting in my friend's room.” you caught him up on the events that just transpired. “that blows.” he laughed. “are you laughing at me?” you jokingly scolded. “what?! no, I could never!” he defended himself as you began laughing along with him. “anyway I kinda don’t want to go home..” you dragged, hoping he would get the hint and come pick you up.
you were now picturing Clyde whisking you away and you giggled to yourself. “oh? little Miss Troubled Home wants me to save her again?” he joked and you let out the loudest laugh you ever have before. “unfortunately yeah.” you ran your hands through your hair. “okay I’ll be there as soon as I can.” he giggled and you both hung up.
and so you sat and waited, excited to see Clyde again. Myra walked in with another drink, stumbling through the door. “I think it might be time for you to lay off the alcohol.” you laughed as she sat down next to you. “yeah this is my last one and I’m going straight to bed.” she giggled, slurring her words. “listen, Clyde is picking me up. I’m gonna go to his house.” you informed the inebriated girl now sprawled across her bedroom floor. “mhm yeah use protection, my love.” she joked. you sighed and walked out to her front lawn to smoke a cigarette while you waited for Clyde to arrive.
"you smell like pink Whitney." Clyde laughed as you climbed into his car. "I tried rinsing off as much as I could." you whined, fastening your seatbelt. "you didn't rinse very well, smells like you bathed in it." he smiled, driving off. "fuck off." you joked.
“I um.. a few of my friends are back at my apartment.” he said, almost hesitantly. “oh I'm meeting your friends already?” you giggled, wondering why he had to tell you as if to warn you. “yeah it’s just that they’re a little intense.. like I can be too but just in case you’re not prepared for it uh they have like no filter.” he rambled. “Clyde it’s not a problem. I’m just your friend meeting your other friends right?” you giggled, still hoping he’d say otherwise. “okay, okay yeah. but you know, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” he smiled.
“I told my friend Myra about you.” you smiled. “oh? what she say? what did you tell her?” he asked. “I mean I told her how we met and about the movie theatre… all that.” you listed off. “so you had fun?” he asked, hopeful. “of course I did,” you whispered, looking over at him. you shared a smile, a warmth growing in his stomach. you had no idea but Clyde had butterflies.
“so tell me about the friends?” you begged as you motioned for Clyde to watch the road. he went on to tell you exactly what you asked for and it excited you, a smile tugging at your lips. you were thrilled to meet his friends, knowing you’d love them.
the both of you got out of the van and walked up to Clyde’s apartment. the smell of weed masked with cologne smuggled its way into your nose as the front door waved open.
“oh my god is this her?” A pretty, bleached blond exclaimed as she handed a joint over to who looked exactly like Johnny from the way Clyde described. “the one and only!” you joked. “please don’t embarrass me,” Clyde begged as he closed the door behind him. “Clyde talks about you all the time. thought you were ghosting him before you called earlier.” snow spoke, bubbly as she put the roach out, coughing as she exhaled. “oh so he missed me.” you said as you turned to look at Clyde whose face was flushed in pure embarrassment. he rolled his eyes and walked over to his room.
you followed Clyde into his room and closed the door. “I’m so gonna love them.” you cheered quietly and reached for the hem of your shirt to take it off. “Woah woah hold on let me get out.” Clyde tried to stop you, earning a face of confusion. “Clyde... please just give me some clothes, i stink like Heineken.” you joked as you continued to pull your shirt off. clyde swallowed hard, flustered as ever and tossed you a shirt. “oh here, a pair of jeans. I think you could pull these off.” he smiled. clyde was not being serious, he definitely thought he was making a clever joke when he gave you his jeans.
“wow my ass looks amazing in these.” you gushed as you looked back at yourself through Clyde’s mirror. “you are not wrong,” Clyde spoke thinking out loud. you laughed at him as you tied the shirt around your waist and tightened the belt on Clyde’s jeans.
the both of you walked out of his room, Clyde’s eyes never leaving your ass. “Fancy a smoke?” Johnny asked, his voice groggy as yours in the morning. clyde sat down next to Johnny. “not tonight. not that kind of smoke anyway.” you smiled as you followed suit and sat next to the quiet girl. “oh don’t tell me you don’t smoke weed?” he asked, defeat fighting its way out. “I mean I have but it’s not really my thing.” you were definitely lying. you just happened to admit private thoughts when you’re stoned. “I stick to nicotine.” you waved around your pack. "lame!" Johnny groaned out causing you all to laugh. "I'll smoke with you eventually." you smiled. "that'll do." Johnny nodded.
the five of you began your small talk before you dove into substantial conversation, cracking jokes here and there, vaguely teasing Clyde and enjoying yourself completely. “where were you tonight? we heard your call with Clyde earlier.” snow asked, making you blush, knowing they'd tease you.
soon snow and Lola fell asleep and only you and the boys stayed awake, unable to fall asleep on the uncomfortable mattress in the middle of Clyde's living room... “I’m gonna head to bed.” Johnny picking up on the tension between you and Clyde treaded into his room. “they were great. not a moment of awkward silence.” you smiled as you giggled at Johnny's exit. “I’m glad you both liked each other.” he smiled.
“I’m so beat.” you yawned, undoing your belt and slumping over on Clyde’s shoulder. “sleep then?” he asked, looking down at you. you nodded and both retreated into his room. "it's okay that I do this right? it's okay that I come over when I don't want to be home?" you asked, a sudden feeling of being a burden creeping up on you. "if it wasn't okay I would have told you I was busy tonight or something... or I don't know, I wouldn't have offered you clothes." he giggled, wrapping an arm around your shoulder for a side hug.
you and Clyde both changed into sweats and crawled into his bed. "you are too by the way." Clyde spoke, lying adjacent to you. "huh?" you muttered. "you're pretty too." he smiled.
“how was that party?” he asked you. “I was really excited to go, i wanted to occupy myself but, I don’t know, I don’t think I was really in the mood for a party.” you admit to him. “that’s okay you can always call me when you’re in a jam.” he smiled, speaking softly. you held his hand. "Could have been worse, could have been puke instead of pink Whitney." he giggled.
“I think I’m due for an existential panic.” you giggled as your eyes watered. “what do you mean what’s wrong?!” he subconsciously rubbed his thumb over your hand with concern,
“I’m 18 and I have no idea what I want to do with my life.” you continued giggling as your tears rolled down your face. “I just... I think the party reminded me of that. Myra likes staying back and throwing parties and, you know, living her life that way but I don’t have my thing. that’s her thing, parties, edge… she’ll be happy to live in a studio and throw her parties out of her own home while working at a magazine.” you spoke, wiping the tears from your puffy face. “you know it’s okay to feel lost sometimes. everyone moves at their own pace. you can travel or start your own business or something.” he laughed, pulling you closer and pressing your head into his chest. “I guess but I just like knowing. I like being sure of myself.” your breath slowing down. “sometimes you can’t know.”
Meet Cute Masterlist
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The thing is, I can watch things like The Last of Us. I grew up on Bones and Supernatural and the Forensic Files, gore doesn’t necessarily bother me.
I just can’t watch them with other people because I do have to routinely pause in the middle of really emotionally intense scenes, like someone getting tortured or having just been fatally shot, just to like get through it.
Because it’s not the violence that bothers me, it’s watching something or someone, even something I know is fictional, in pain that gets to me. Like you may as well just stab me too, while you’re at it.
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fingertipsmp3 · 1 year
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Like, moving to a big city in September 2020 only to be locked in a house with 4 strangers and basically never see the light of day for nine months was 1) a terrible experience overall and 2) not a bad setup for a horror series of some sort, but also I am nostalgic for a few things from that time
#one of them obviously being minnie. i miss her every day and i hope she’s having a good time wherever she is now#i’m absolutely certain she’s found a different gang of hapless grad students to sit on and beg for tuna from. it’s what she excels at#second; smoking 🍃 on the front porch with my flatmates. or smoking out the attic window. honestly a quintessential grad school experience#third; the food. oh my god the food. the time i ordered bao buns and then got so high i forgot i ordered bao buns and then i remembered#my bao buns. i was so happy. i have never felt such a rush of love for any being as i did for myself in that moment#and the food was transcendent#fourth; grocery shopping was so good because the prices hadn’t gone up insanely yet and there was never anyone in the shop#fifth; movie nights with my flatmates. and watching random crap like classic who wants to be a millionaire and columbo and stuff#usually none of us were sober and one of us would order burgers#sixth; watching the across the street neighbours. there was this house of seven undergrads across from us; all lads; and they used to do#the weirdest shit. one time i spent a full ten minutes watching one of them take out the garbage and narrating everything he was doing#‘and here he is with more bottles… bottles again… jesus fucking christ how did they drink this much… rip to their liver… pizza boxes!#hey good for them for washing it down with something. ooh five black bin bags. intriguing’ but i swear to god it took Ages for him to take#it all out. i was like ‘i know there’s seven of them but how did they produce this much’#another time the one who had an afro despite being white and the one who was somewhat good looking had a dance party in their living room#while only wearing boxers. i was like ‘do they know we can see them?’ and the others were like ‘idk’ lol#idk where this is going. i was just thinking about it just now. i wouldn’t do all of that again honestly but i miss certain moments#and i hope everyone from that time who i’ve lost touch with is well. apart from sb. he can fuck off#personal
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saetoru · 8 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ speak of the devil
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synopsis. satoru and his father don’t quite get along—you don’t think it would help that case if his father walked in on you fucking on his desk right now, but satoru doesn’t seem to care at all
FIVE PLACES RB! GOJO SHOULDN’T FUCK YOU SERIES
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length. 3.4k words (why did it take all day sobs)
contents. fem! reader, minors do not interact, college au, rich boy! gojo, as always it’s shameless satoru, you sit on satoru’s lap, brief fingering, dry humping, desk sex <3, clothed sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, perfect girl)
notes. to everyone who kept asking when i was gonna update this series: here it is. now don’t ask again <3
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the one time you decide to surprise satoru with a visit is the one time he’s nowhere to be found—it takes you ten minutes and the help of two maids to finally find satoru in his house. as it turns out, he’s in his father’s office—the only room you’ve never been in yet.
“hey,” you murmur, “been looking for you everywhere. way to ruin my surprise.”
“baby!” he grins, perking up from his spot at the chair, setting the pen in his hand down. “you came all the way here to surprise me? you must love me so much. and think i’m hot too, right? and funny? and smart? and—”
“i’m leaving,” you tease, rolling your eyes. and then you notice the papers in front of him, peeking over his shoulder as you read over them. you understand nothing. “what’s this?”
“paperwork,” he grumbles, “old man says i have to start being more responsible for stuff if i’m gonna take over someday. what a geezer.”
you snort—satoru never runs out of insults for his father. normally, you wouldn’t encourage his comments, but….well, his father deserves them. quite a bit, in fact.
“my poor businessman,” you say sympathetically, smoothing back hair from his forehead as you cup his face. he pouts, leaning into your touch as you rub over the swell of his cheek with your thumb. “you deserve a break.”
“i know,” he whines, “i’ve been doing these for like an hour. i could’ve been playing video games with suguru. or fucking you.”
“satoru!” you gasp, pressing a hand over his lips as you eye the door and listen for any signs of anyone nearby. you turn to him and hiss, “you have too many people wandering your house for you to say that so loud.”
“not like they’ve never heard us before,” he shrugs.
well, that’s satoru for you—as shameless as ever. not only has he probably traumatized the poor maids with his insatiable horniness, but he’s not even got the tact to at least seem embarrassed. not even slightly ashamed. you scoff, shaking your head as he grins up at you cheekily.
“you’re a real case, you know that?” you say in disbelief, “i think the only surface you haven’t fucked me on is your parent’s bed. and that’s only because you love your mom enough not to do that.”
“if it was just the old man’s, i’d have fucked you on that too,” he snickers. and then he hums thoughtfully, “actually, i think i have fucked you everywhere. it’s like a bucket list.”
“satoru, you’re sick in the head.”
“the showers, the guest rooms, the kitchen, the living room, the movie room, my room, of course—oh, the game room too. and we can’t forget the backyard and the pool either. i think we got it all—wait.”
he sounds serious. you look at him with furrowed brows as you tilt your head. “what?”
“we didn’t get this room.”
oh god. he’s absolutely ridiculous—and not only that but a complete idiot, too. not only do satoru and his father not get along, but his father couldn’t disapprove of you any more than he already does. the last thing you both need is for him to walk in on his son fucking the girl he probably wants to hire a hitman to assassinate.
“oh my god,” you say exasperatedly, “toru, have you not one ounce of shame? you can’t possibly think—”
“why didn’t i think of this sooner?” he wonders out loud—and oh no. satoru has that look in his eyes, the one that’s locked in on something he wants. the spoiled side of him isn’t going to let this go. the weak part of you is probably going to have a hard time fighting him.
the unwise part of both of you will probably get you both into a whole lot of trouble.
“because it’s a bad idea. you’re a smart guy, toru,” you try to butter him up—it doesn’t seem to do much, though. “the smartest. so, so genius and intelligent, so you know this is a terrible idea, so let’s just drop it—”
“i should’ve done this way sooner,” he chuckles, looking at you in awe, “bend you right over this desk and fuck you over that fossil’s papers.”
his words are so shameless and so, so wrong. but for some odd reason, your clit aches a little at that.
“no, absolutely not—”
“can you imagine? he’s signing papers right where i had you drooling for me? he’d be so mad if he knew,” satoru cackles.
god—this should not be as appealing as it sounds. you try to throw on your best stern look, but satoru is as smart as he is sly. he can see the way you shift on your feet as he smirks up at you, and he’s already got that determined look in his eye that you know well enough.
it’s the same look he has when he decides he’s hungry—for you, that is. the same look that paints his face as he eyes you like you’re his next meal. the same look that tells you he wants you—and he’ll stop at nothing to have you.
and….well, you’ve never been good at saying no to satoru. it’s your fatal flaw.
“satoru, we should definitely not be doing any of that in here, and we definitely should not be risking making your dad—who hates that we’re dating, by the way—any more angry with us than he already is—”
“sweetheart,” he chuckles, pulling you by the wrist to fall onto his lap, “you worry too much, y’know that? i should fix that. fuck you dumb over this desk so you don’t overthink in that pretty little head you have.”
you glare at him, but he’s already got you straddling his hips, arms looped around your waist as he kisses your jaw with a hum. he’s already hard from what you can feel—the bulge pressing against your heat is hard to miss. 
“satoru—”
“save the part where you say my name for later. i haven’t even done anything yet,” he winks—and then he’s kissing you. he’s clever, you think, because kissing you is the fastest way to get you to melt against him, arms wrapping around his neck as he pulls you closer. 
so close, in fact, that you can feel his cock practically twitch in his pants as you shift on top of him, dragging your clothed cunt over his aching bulge.
“this is such a bad idea, toru,” you whisper in between kisses—but not one part of you fights his touch or even attempts to pull away. he hums, pressing wet kisses along your jaw as his hands dig into your hips, moving you to grind along his hardened length. 
“yeah? you sure? let’s check, shall we?” he raises a brow, hand slipping past the waistband of your pants and brushing past your folds—wet. dripping and messy and needy, just how your pussy always seems to be when you’re with him. he grins in satisfaction and throws you that knowing look as he mumbles, “sorry, baby. this pretty little pussy of yours disagrees.”
“toru,” you gasp as he toys with your clit, rubbing slow enough circles that you whine and roll your hips, trying to get more. but satoru is a brat—always has been, right from the day he was born. he pulls his fingers away and looks at you smugly as he kisses your curled lips while you frown at him.
“want more, don’t ya?” he asks—he’s too cocky for his own good sometimes. too ridiculous and annoying and troublesome, but you’re aching to feel something, anything. preferably him, so you nod. 
“just hurry up,” you huff. your hips push against him, dragging your cunt over his cock—it’s throbbing in his pants, confined under the fabric and needy for the tightness of your walls. you gasp when he rubs against your clit, and he groans, guiding your movements with a tight grip on your hips. 
“fuck, sweetheart,” he rasps, “c-could cum jus’ like this. see what you do to me?”
“‘s not me,” you tilt your head as he nips at your neck, hand trailing to cup the back of his head and keep him in place as he nibbles at the skin and pecks along the marks he leaves, “this is all your fault.”
“all my fault, huh?” he chuckles, “you make it sound like this is a bad thing.”
his hips buck up, rolling against yours and building the friction up until your both panting messes, his lips against yours as you drink in each other’s moans—your clit rubs along his length with every stutter of your hips, and his tip leaks with more pre cum every time you press harder against his cock. it’s desperate—the way he chokes on your name and the way you cling around his neck. it feels good, and the way this is all so wrong only makes it feel better. 
“‘m close, toru,” you mewl, whining as his hand slides under your shirt to massage your tit, his eyes trained on you as he hums.
“good,” he grins, eyes dark and glinting with a sick satisfaction you don’t think you’ve ever seen on him before, “cum for me, sweetheart. right here—right on this chair,” he says lowly. 
so you do—head falling back with a sharp gasp and your nails digging into his shoulder as you come undone with a loud whine. the gojo estate is big—very big. you’re sure your voice isn’t carrying through even a fraction of the place, but still, you can’t help but clamp a hand over your mouth in case anyone is nearby. 
satoru doesn’t like that, though—his hand rips yours off as he ruts his hips upwards faster, harder, pressing against you closer. “no, baby,” he chuckles, cutting himself off with a breathy moan when you press harder against his cock, “make sure you let me hear how good you feel. feels good, huh?”
“yes,” you whimper, “yes, feels so good—need more, toru. please,” you pout, looking up at him with lust-blown eyes. 
“here?” he mocks, raising a brow, “you want me to fuck you right here? in my father’s office? where he does his work? right on his desk?”
“yes, here,” you sob, “right here—please. want you so bad. need it.”
“see?” he laughs, “now you’re getting it—not so much of a bad idea, is it?”
that’s the thing about satoru—he’s too used to hearing what he wants. being told what he likes to hear. getting what he asks for. you say no, and he’s determined to change it to a yes. but yes is never enough—it’s more. always more, more, more. it’s like all rich people, you suppose. 
they just always want more.
there’s a small, reasonable voice in your head that tells you this is a bad idea. a disrespectful one, even. sure, satoru’s father has never been kind to you, let alone polite. he looks at you like you’re an eyesore, and he’s certainly said less than appropriate things about your upbringing. but that doesn’t mean you have to stoop to his level of low and do something equally as spiteful, if not more…but you’re only human. and satoru always just fucks you so well, and cumming around nothing just isn’t enough, and…well, you think it’s just karma. 
the way the world works. 
the way you and satoru work. 
so you grin, huff out a little snort before pulling him into a kiss and reaching to free his hard, leaky cock from its confinements. he whines a little into your mouth as you smear the arousal coating his tip along his length, stroking down and squeezing at the base. 
“okay,” you whisper against his lips, “fuck me toru. right here—right on his desk.”
that, evidently, is all it takes—one second you’re comfortably sitting on his legs, pants soaked with his bulge pressed against your core, and the next second you hear his hand swipe papers off the surface to fall to the floor as your back is pressed against the cool wood. he doesn’t even bother with your clothes, just tugs both of your pants down your thighs that it’s enough. satoru has always been impatient too—doesn’t like to wait for anything when he can take it when he wants. 
you can feel him close, hovering over you. he’s warm—where his cock presses against your thigh, where his breath fans over your lips, where his hands grab your wrists and pin them over your head. he’s warm, and your head spins, and you need him filling you to the brim right now.
“anything you want, you get, sweetheart,” he murmurs, grinning sickeningly sweet, “can’t say no to my baby. what kind of boyfriend would i be?” you feel him bump his tip against your clit, making you gasp before he drags the head of his cock along your folds—they’re wet and slick from your arousal, coating his tip before he’s slowly pushing in. you gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck as he groans lowly. “can never get used to this,” he breathes, “never get used to this pussy. just takes me so well. fit in like i was made just to fuck you.”
“toru, t-toru—oh,” you squeal when he slides the rest of his length to fill you, buried to the hilt as your walls flutter around him. it’s nothing new, but it’s never something you’re prepared for all the same. how thick he is, how perfectly he hits that spot in the back of your walls, how full he makes you feel. it makes your legs wrap around his waist and pull him forward, closer, deeper. “more, toru—move, please.”
“nuh uh,” he drawls, kissing your cheeks, “first you gotta tell me how much you love me.”
“satoru,” you hiss in disbelief, “are you kidding—”
“c’mon, say it,” he giggles, “love you, toru. love how you fuck me so good everywhere in your house and make me feel like a princess. you’re the best boyfriend ever and i’ll die without your cock—”
“i love you toru,” you smile sweetly, “you know what i love more, though? when you’re too busy making pretty sounds for me instead of talking so much.”
that makes him shudder—makes him curse under his breath as your walls flutter impatiently around him. he’s aching—hot and swollen in your dripping cunt, balls heavy with cum that he needs to empty into your pussy because it was made to take him. every inch of him.
“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes out shakily, “know that? gonna kill me one of these days.”
“good,” you hum before rolling your hips and making his breath hitch, “now move, baby. wanna feel you.” 
he does—pulls his hips back so that he’s just almost pulled out completely before he slams back into you, pressing against your sweet spot with his tip in the way only satoru knows how. only he knows you this well, only he knows your body so well. he knows where to kiss and hold and touch to make your eyes flutter shut, and your mouth fall open, wanton moans falling past your lips without a care in the world who can hear. 
“so tight, baby,” he whines, “god you’re so perfect—my perfect girl.”
“so full,” you gasp, clawing at his shoulders, pulling at his hair, pulling him closer and closer and closer until not even air can fill the space between you. “feel so good, toru—fuck.”
“look at you,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “‘s a shame you can’t see what i see. then you’d know why i can’t keep my hands off’a you—’s impossible.”
you can’t speak—all you can offer him as he’s bullying his thick girth into you is a pathetic whine as his veins drag along your walls, as his navel bumps along your clit and has your head thrown back against the table. there’s slick smeared along your inner thigh, the wet sound of his cock fucking into you ringing in your ears along with his deep groans as he pants harshly against your ear. you can feel his breath against your skin, can feel the goosebumps and the flutter of your walls every time he makes a pretty little sound for you as you squeeze around him. 
“love you, toru,” you mewl—you can’t help but say it, can’t help but remind him when he pushes into you like he was always meant to fit right there, like he was always meant to feel you as you feel him too. and if his rotten, greedy, stuck-up father with a receding hairline can’t see that you love satoru, maybe you’ll just have to fuck him right where he can find you just to drill the image into his mind. 
“love you too,” he says between moans, face digging into your neck as your hand cradles the back of his head, keeping him right there, keeping him close against you like he should never be anywhere else, “love my perfect, perfect girl. feel me? feel what you do to me?”
you nod between sharp gasps and soft cries of his name—he looks down at you in wonder, at the way your lips look when they murmur that sweet little cry of toru!, at the way your pussy sucks him in and hugs too tightly around him, at the way you look so good with the slight sheen of sweat on your face. 
his hips roll, a little sloppy in rhythm now, but still just as hard and deep as before. he can sense it—the way you’re just about to fall apart on his cock, just like you always do. so he presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing harsh circles that make you cling to him tighter as you cry out another sweet string of toru, toru—more!
“you close, sweetheart? gonna cum for me? ‘m close—gonna fill you up. want that, don’t you?”
“yeah,” you breathe, kissing him with hot, open-mouthed kisses that he returns, “yeah i wan’ you to fill me up, toru—gonna cum. ‘m so close—f-fuck, so close, baby.”
you know he is too, the way his cock twitches and the way his hips are desperate in the way they roll into you tells you he’s just as close to falling apart as you are. you push your hips up to meet his thrusts, pushing him impossibly deeper into your cunt before you feel the coil snap as you cum—hard. your walls flutter around him, spasming and squeezing around him that his bottom lip is tugged between his teeth as he inhales sharply.
“f-fuck, baby—’m gonna…” he doesn’t get to finish before you feel his cock twitch and the first drop of cum fills you. it’s hot and thick, every rope he fucks into you, leaking past his tip and painting your walls white. you can feel the mess he makes—can feel the drops leak and smear along your inner thighs as he slams into you with choked whines of your name. “g-good—’s so good, you feel so good,” he says breathlessly, face digging deeper into the crook of your neck as his arms tremble over you.
the wood is hard against you, makes your back ache slightly—but it’s not nearly as bad as satoru is good. you can’t think of anything else but the way he fucks you both through your highs until your legs are begging to press shut from the oversensitivity. 
it’s silent for a bit once you’ve finished—save for the harsh, labored panting as you both calm down and catch your breaths. satoru is still buried with his nose pressed against your neck, your hand rubbing over his back slowly.
“your maids must hate us,” you mumble, “and if your mother hears? we can never show her our faces again.”
“she’s probably dead to the world and watching her reality shows,” he snorts, “we’ll be fine.”
“well, we should clean up and leave before your dad—”
“oh look, speak of the devil. he’s just in time,” satoru snickers as he cuts you off, looking over at the window as an expensive car drives up to the house, “think we can get these papers organized before he comes up here? maybe we should just leave ‘em to make him mad.”
“you’re crazy,” you say in disbelief. and then— “i think we should leave them there. make them his problem.”
you think you’ve just watched satoru fall in love with you all over again at that.
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i hate this fic but hopefully i come back one week later and reread it and think wow i ate w this. sometimes i do that. but if i don’t: if all of you donate one dollar to my family they can afford my funeral for when i drink bleach
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endlessthxxghts · 2 months
Text
Best I Ever Had
Jackson!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 2.3k
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Summary: Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.
Content/Warnings: Reader is able-bodied, no physical descriptions. Feminine perception of reader and feminine pet names (Joel calls you mama and babygirl), but no pronouns used. Reader's a fucking badass and can hold their own fights (probably Joel's too, tbh). Slight description of reader getting physical/violent with another person (bby has some anger issues). Established relationship. Implied age gap (exact number unspecified). A bit of insecure Joel. 18+ MDNI! Dom!reader !! Sub!Joel !!!! P in V unprotected. Slight breeding kink (reader just likes being filled, no children talk). Joel has a fast refractory period (don't think too much on it, just enjoy). Definitely some overstimulation. Cockwarming. Riding..straddling.. Teasing. Begging. Edging. Sloppy making out. Multiple orgasms. Please let me know if there’s anything I missed that should be up here!
A/N: Some get post-nut clarity, but I get post-nut lust. This was the product of that. Hope you enjoy, my angels. Thank you @honeyedmiller for beta’ing 🩶 also I picture both game Joel or hbo Joel, so it’s entirely up to you what you wanna visualize ;)
masterlist | updates blog
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It was a busy night at the Tipsy Bison. Everyone was out. Everyone was mingling, getting to know each other. As if it wasn’t a small town already, but hey, it wouldn’t hurt to make sure you really knew the people living in this little forever-town. 
Except, Joel was not one to mingle—especially on nights like tonight. Tommy insisted that he come, it’ll be nice, he tried to reason. 
He eventually agreed. Not because of Tommy, though, but because of you. 
You knew Joel was a certified grump, through and through. And you love Joel, you really do. But the post-apocalyptic world caused you to react differently than your man. Yeah, you’ve become tougher, harder to break, harder to trust. However, you crave any sense of normalcy you can find. So on occasion, you like to go out and get to know the people of the town. You like human interaction. 
And when they say opposites attract, the saying couldn’t have been more true. Joel was absolutely smitten the day he met you. It’s been a long time coming between you two—with his vulnerability, or lack thereof, and his initial unwillingness to accept that he can finally relax and unclench his jaw—but you’re together now, stronger than ever, and everything is worth it. 
You are worth it. 
Which is exactly why all you needed was to give one raise of your brow during his protesting before Joel promptly shuts his lips and takes a defeated breath, fixing his answer to Tommy. “Oh, hell. Alright, brother, we’ll be there.” 
And to be quite honest, Joel would go as far to say that tonight’s little get together was actually decent for once. That is, until he sees you waiting on the bartender for his beer and your old-fashioned, and a man—a boy—approaches you. 
“Hey,” you heard a voice beside you say. Not realizing it was meant for you, your attention stays on the bartender. Still, the voice persists. “I was thinking, uh-” you look at the guy then, eyes staring him down in a way he perceives as a challenge. 
He clears his throat. “I was thinking I could buy you a drink?” 
“No, I’m good,” you say shortly. The bartender comes up to you, pulling you away from the guy’s feeble attempt at flirting. You tell the bartender your order, and before you can take another moment to speak, the guy pipes up. 
“Put it on my tab,” he smirks triumphantly, taking a closer step to you. 
You pull yourself away on instinct— out of disgust, but your eyes stay trained on his gaze. You’re pissed, but this naïve little boy has no idea. Both of what you're capable of and what the older man, your older man, across the bar is capable of. 
“Thanks,” you smile, “my boyfriend’s gonna appreciate the free drink,” you tell the guy, turning to Joel and giving him a sweet smile. You’ve been feeling his stare the second this waste of space walked up to you.
Joel would pounce if you told him to. He knows you can handle yourself, though, and you confirm it through that pretty smile you flash him. He can’t deny the way his cock twitches at the way this scene is unfolding. Part of him is begging for the guy to try something more, to test you—to unleash you. 
The guy scoffs the second he sees Joel. “That old man is your boyfriend? Come on, baby,” his hand reaches for the crook of your elbow. “You can do so much better than that,” he taunts. 
And that was the something more you needed. Immediately your hand takes hold of his wrist, twisting the man to face the bar in a rough fashion as you lean him over the bar counter, his arm twisted behind his back, shoulder ready to snap out of his socket with the tiniest of movements. 
“Wanna say that again?” You seethe, knocking the breath from his lungs as you push him into the wooden counter. 
“I said—” 
He’s cut off by his own high-pitched scream. You push his arm higher, a sharp pain shooting through every nerve center in the guy’s arm. 
“Sweetheart,” a southern twang says softly, but it’s not your man. Tommy. “I know he probably deserves it, darlin’, but it’s not worth it,” he says, not wanting to aggravate you more. Everyone knows not to test you. 
Well, apparently not everyone. 
You roll your eyes, knowing Tommy’s just trying to keep up the liveliness of tonight. “Fine,” you mutter. Leaning closer into the guy, you whisper into his ear. “Talk about my fuckin’ man like that again, and I’ll snap your shoulder so fuckin’ hard, Jackson’s doctors won’t even know what to do with ya. Ya hear me?” You’re not from the South, and before the outbreak, you’ve never even been. But get angry enough, and Joel’s twang possesses you.
You release the crying boy with a shove, and you back up, wanting to pull yourself away from the situation. Your back is met with something hard, and immediately you know who it is. You soften in his touch as his arms immediately wrap around your waist. “You alright, babygirl?” Joel rasps in your ear. You can feel his fucking hard-on pressed against your back. 
The guy looks at you and Joel, chest still heaving as his face turns into disgust, a fuck you muttered under his breath, an aftertaste of jealousy on his lips. 
Smiling wildly at the guy in front of you, you snake your hand up to wrap around Joel’s jaw before you turn your head back and tilt your head up, pulling Joel into an open-mouthed kiss, your tongue pushing into his mouth as he eagerly sucks it, lapping up your spit. He groans into you, his arms pulling you impossibly tighter into him. 
You pull away with a harsh nip to his lip, feeding off the little whimper Joel lets out. “Baby,” he whines. 
You look back to the guy, and the silent audience you’ve accumulated. “Come on, cowboy,” you breathe. “I’m not done with you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replies happily, spinning you two around and walking out with you still pressed against him. 
The bar stays quiet after a beat. Tommy’s hand slaps the bar counter before he speaks. “Well. Get the music back going unless y’all wanna hear ‘em goin’ at it all night!” The bar roars in laughter, the music coming back to life. 
Before returning back to Maria, Tommy turns to the guy. “You. Out.” 
He scrambles without looking back.
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“Oh my God, baby.”
“Fuck— I- I can’t, baby, I can’t hold it much longer, baby, I need to come.”
“Just one more second, baby.”
“Mama, please,” he cries out, his head lolling from side to side on his sweat-soaked pillow as you grind your hips into his pelvis, lifting yourself on and off him every other moment. His hands hold onto your hips, not in a way to control your movement but to simply feel you. 
“Oh, come on, be a good boy for me, baby,” you moan, your hand fixing itself onto his jaw to make him look at you. “Just wanna feel you twitch inside me a little bit more ‘fore you make a mess inside me, okay?”
“Oh, fuck— yes, yes, mama, yes, okay,” he rambles, trying his hardest to breathe through the pleasurable pain as you take and take and take. 
A particular grind sends your back arching, his pubes soaked in your arousal nudging perfectly against your clit, sending an electric pulse up your spine. You cry out in ecstasy, your climax hitting you instantly. “Oh fuck, oh shit- fuckfuckfuck, baby, come with me— come inside me, baby, fucking fill me,” you nearly scream, hoping that boy can hear you now. 
“Shit, baby, oh my God- fuck- I’m coming, mama, holy fuck- I-” he stutters, his thigh muscles shaking underneath you as you bounce on him through his climax, the mix of his spend with yours bouncing lewdly across the walls of your shared bedroom. 
Your hips come to a slow but never stop, your chest heaving as you lean down to bring your lips to Joel. You let them ghost across his lips, but you don’t let them touch. He knows better not to chase it, not yet, anyway. He can still feel you fuming. 
You can do so much better than that.
“Can you fucking believe him?” You whisper against his lips, barely audible yet fucking scary nonetheless. 
Joel thinks that boy is right, deep down. Even though he’d never want you to leave him, and you’d never want him to leave you. Joel thinks that there’s a crumb of moral rightness in that statement. But he keeps that to himself. 
Nevertheless, you know Joel like the back of your hand. He doesn’t need to utter a lick of anything to you. You already know what he’s thinking. 
“Joel,” you say again. “I asked you a question.”
All questions must be answered. 
Fuck. 
“Y-yeah, baby,” he rumbles, too distracted by the comments from the bar, but mainly still caught up in the way his softening come-covered cock is still nestled inside of you. 
You sit up now. A whine leaves his throat at the movement. “So you do believe him?” 
Only then does he realize what he said. His eyes shoot up to yours. “W-wait, no, baby, ‘m sorry, no. No, I don’t believe him, baby,” he panics. 
You quirk your eyebrow at him. 
“The fuckin’ audacity on ‘em,” he adds for good measure. 
You’re silent for a beat. Then—
“You’re lying.”
Joel’s heart starts to race. “No, baby. Please. Mama, I’m not lyin’,” he tries. 
Still straddling his hips, you grab onto his bicep, pulling upward. He gets the hint and sits up. He’s still inside you, his cock slowly growing to full mast again the longer you sit here. 
You’re face to face now. His arms are loosely wrapped around your waist, your arms tightly around his neck.
“Look me in my eye,” you whisper, “and tell me you’re the best I ever had.”
Joel audibly gulps. 
Slow— so slow, your hips begin to move again. A breathy little moan escapes your mouth, and he lunges forward for you, his tongue dancing along the tip of yours, swallowing your breath. You allow it. 
“Tell me,” you groan into his mouth, practically swallowing his tongue as you shallowly bounce yourself on him. 
“Baby,” he whines, getting lost in this dance of heat and sweat he’s become utterly addicted to. 
You break yourself away from his mouth, not allowing him the option to reach for you anymore. He pulls back, eyes wild and sad. His mouth turned down into a literal pout. 
“My poor baby,” you mutter. “Tell me what I wanna hear,” you say again. “Or you’re not getting my lips nor are you coming for the rest of the night,” you tell him, switching back into your grinding motion to stimulate your sensitive bud, letting him feel the way your pussy flutters around him. 
“Baby,” he begs again as you grind, your warmth forcing him to another climax. Please don’t make me say it, he’s trying to convince you. 
Your fingers find their home at the base of his salt and pepper curls, tugging them in warning. “Tell. Me.”
You force his body down to lay flat on the bed again, towering over him, allowing your body the space to lift yourself off of him, only his tip inside of you. He takes a sharp breath in, knowing what’s coming. 
You drop yourself down on him, fucking yourself on his cock at a bruising pace. You grab his hands and drag them up to your chest, wrapping his thick digits around you encouraging him to squeeze. 
“Fuck- mama, I’m gonna—”
“No the fuck you’re not, baby,” you moan, lost in the pleasure but still rightfully in charge. “Swear to God, Joel, gonna leave you fucking swollen and pulsing for a fucking week— oh fuck,” you cut yourself off, a familiar sensation building at the base of your spine, sending you convulsing around his length yet again. 
Joel’s eyes clamp shut, finally giving into your request so he can finally let go. “I— shit, I’m the—” a rugged moan forces itself out, “—the best you ever had, mama, please, the fuckin’ best, baby,” he cries out, his hips bucking up into you as he covers every inch of you with his spend. 
“Shit,” you moan, his words affecting you a lot more than you anticipated, your hips doing overtime, unable to find it within you to stop even as he begins to soften. “Yes, fuck, that’s my boy, shit—” you breathe, “—the fucking best, always make me feel so fucking good, baby.”
His hands finally use their strength, trying his best to slow you with ease, his nerves reaching the point of painful overstimulation. “Alright, baby, alright,” he winces. 
Recognizing his limits, you immediately begin to slow, lowering yourself onto his heaving chest. You let him slip out of you this time, giving him an actual break. “I’m sorry,” you whisper into his chest. 
“For what, baby?” Joel responds with a kiss into your head.
“Did I go too far?”
He couldn’t help the belly laugh that shakes the both of you. You immediately sit back up, your hands on his chest to keep your limp body up. “What?” you glare at him.
“Too far? Which part, darlin’? Nearly breakin’ that guy’s shoulder or my dick?”
A belly laugh erupts out of you this time. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you respond. “...Both.”
“Mmm…” Joel puts on a fake thinking face. “Maybe to the former, but not at all to the latter,” he hums, his hands finding the back of your head to pull you in for a chaste kiss. 
You hum into his lips, a smile stretching across your cheeks. 
Resting your head on his chest, you let a few moments pass before you speak again. “Tommy’s not gonna invite us to another one of those, huh?” 
“Probably not, mama,” he smiles. “Probably not.”
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I’d love to hear what you think!! Any feedback or interactions with you all truly brightens my day. So so so much love for you all. Thank you for being here 🩶
I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.
graphics by @saradika-graphics (middle divider in fic by me)
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gay-dorito-dust · 29 days
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can I request batboys with an s/o who shows affection with biting?
it’s kinda stupid, but it could be cute, or they’re weirded out.
I don’t know, whatever you think ❤️
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Idk why but I like the idea of Tim absolutely reading people to filth, this might just be me but I like it.
Dick would yelp when you first bit him on the neck, instinctively pressing a hand there and look at you with a pout.
‘I know I’m an absolute snack but I didn’t think I’d see the day where you’d try and take a bite out of me.’ He whined as he rubbed his neck, feeling exactly where you bit him from the teeth marks and wetness you left behind.
He loves it when you bite him but he can’t help in being dramatic when your bite marks are left in the most visible places where anybody could see them and speculate.
‘What if people ask if I like being bit?’ Dick would gasp, looking at the marks through the mirror, whimpering slightly when lightly grazing them. ‘What if they think I like being marked?’
‘Well you obviously do because not once had you stopped me once from biting you. Not once.’ You replied from your place on the bed, looking up from your phone to stare at him through the reflective surface. ‘If anything I think I heard you whimper a few times whenever I bite your neck.’ You add, smirking upon seeing Dick’s face grow flustered.
Dick wouldn’t admit it but he did like it when you bit him, probably more then he should, but he loved the fact that whenever you bit him you were only reassuring him that he was yours and you were his, albeit in your own unique way of affection.
Jason would bite you back purely out of retaliation but it’s mainly on your cheek or shoulders that he bites.
He lives for the little yelps you give when he does bite down on your shoulder lightly, smirking like the cheeky shit he could be at times.
He’ll proudly display the bite marks to anyone who was getting too comfortable with him for his own liking, by pulling down the collar of his shirt and showing off your bite marks across his collar bone and says with his whole chest ‘I’m taken.’
Once you both were lying on bed and were just about ready to fall asleep, but your eyes honed in on his bare upper body, more specifically his big tiddies. Jason -who had just put down his book after finishing a chapter- gave you a look and said ‘don’t you fucking dare-‘ but it was already too late as you opened your mouth and bite down on his left tiddy, staying there for a good deal of time.
Jason only sighs and pets your head, pressing a kiss there and whispers. ‘What am I going to do with you?’ To which you respond cheekily with. ‘Love me?’
Jason couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘I can think of a few ways to do that.’ But before you could ask what he meant with that, he then proceeded to bite down your neck, causing you to squeak.
However when Jason bites you, it looks at though you’ve been bites by a fucking vampire, mainly because he’s got four distinctly sharp dentures and you had developed somewhat a love/hate relationship with it, much to Jason’s amusement.
‘Hey! You do it to me so why shouldn’t I do it to you?’ He’d say with his hands raised but a smile on his face and mischievous glint in his eyes. He loves it more than he lets on, he just likes to meet you on equal footing.
He calls you his little piranha.
Tim would look at you as if to say ‘are you done?’
He’s perpetually tired from everything, so you biting him to show affection doesn’t phase him in the slightest.
You could bite his bicep and he’d be like ‘love you too you menace.’ Before taking a sip from his mug as he went about the rest of his day, uncaring of the bite mark already forming on his bicep.
However whenever Tim feels as though he’s missing you, he’d just brush his fingers over the bite mark and remind himself that you were waiting for him to come back…and probably bite him as a way to show him that you missed him also, but he really didn’t mind.
If anything his only request is that you don’t bite him anywhere his brothers could see them, they’ve already teased him enough about being with you that seeing a single bite mark would send them into utter insanity. They’d would never him live it down and would forever tease him into hell and back for it, especially Damian and Jason.
Even if you did accidentally leave a bite mark on a viable part of him and someone teases him for it, all he has for do is look them in the eye and say ‘at least I got someone who makes me really happy, and who isn’t afraid of showing me that they love me just as equally without feeling ashamed.’ He stops and looks them over with a look. ‘Which is more than I can say for you, the only real relationship you have is with a box of tissues, lube and a shitty computer system that’s on the verge of collapse.’ He adds before stalking off, leaving the person to wonder how Tim knew about the shitty computer, a shitty computer that was currently being held together by duck tape of all things.
All in all, Tim doesn’t mind you biting him in a display of affection, just don’t do so in areas where his family will take notice of and start asking really uncomfortable questions…
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slxtherin-prxncess · 8 months
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dark!stepbrother!ethan where he’s absolutely obsessed with the reader and he borrows her computer and finds out that she was watching some kinky shit (like i mean kinky) and then he makes a move on her and smut from there!! also pls make him really dominant if possible. thank you <3
Good Girl For You
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pairing: dark!stepbrother!ethan landry, AFAB!reader
contains: non-gf!au, smut (mdni), unprotected p in v, cream pie, oral (m receiving), face-fucking, choking, overstimulation, stepcest. Lmk if I missed any
an: lmk if you wanna be in the taglist
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Ever since you were little, it's just been you and your mom.
She never had boyfriends, and you were an only child, so you had grown up to be protective over your mom.
That is until Wayne, your step-dad, came into your life. He had 3 kids: Richie, Quinn, and Ethan. Richie was grown, so he didn't live with you guys, but Ethan and Quinn did.
Quinn was super nice. She was the sister you never had. Both of the siblings being a year older, you were now the youngest.
Ethan, however, was a pain in the ass.
He was such a dick. He would always taunt and tease you, taking your stuff without asking, and even invading your privacy. He was such a douche but god, he was so cute.
You couldn't deny it, Ethan was hot. Especially when he walked around in those gray sweatpants
He knew that you were looking at him, and he loved it. He wore those gray sweatpants on purpose when he was hard, just so he could walk in front of your room when the door was open so he could catch you staring, not to mention he would purposefully tip something over or drop something just so he could look at you bent over.
And to his luck, both of your parents were out that day. Unfortunately, Quinn was there, but hopefully, she wasn't a snitch.
"Hey Y/N," Ethan leaned against the doorway sluggishly. "Can I borrow your laptop?"
"Why?" You shifted in your seat so you could peer at him. And, of course, he was wearing those godforsaken sweatpants.
"I need it for something. Are you gonna let me use it or not?" He cocked a brow.
"For what? Porn?" You scoffed.
He rolled his eyes and stuck his hand out expectantly. "Well?"
You handed your computer to him with a sigh and settled back in bed, seemingly bothered by his presence.
It was only minutes after he had been in his room before your stomach wrenched, and your heart sank.
'shit, shit, shit,' you thought as you raced to his door. You had forgotten to close your tabs from the previous night.
"Ethan, I need my computer real quick. Just really fast, I'll be two seconds," you beat on his door and jiggled the knob that wouldn't turn.
He unlocked his door and handed it to you with a smug grin. Oh he definitely saw it.
"I'm sorry you had to see that, that wasn't meant for you," you whispered embarrassingly as you tried to take the computer from him, but he waved it higher than your reach.
"Nuhuh, I think you did it on purpose," he smirked. "Leaving your porn tabs open for me?" He tsked. "You're smarter than I thought you were Y/N."
"No, Ethan, it wasn't meant for you to see, I forgot to close them and i-"
"Oh you’re such a liar.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “You're such a smart girl, I dont believe you could be so careless,” Your breath got heavier at his accusation.
Your eyebrows lifted in surprise. You really hadn't done it on purpose, but it didn't seem like such a bad idea.
He yanked you in his room and closed the door, pressing you against it as he held his knee between your legs, applying pressure to your increasingly aching cunt.
“You know, I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be into that sort of stuff. Always get so nervous when someone flirts with you, always get so flustered when people touch each other in a movie.”
He was ignoring your request completely. “But it makes sense now, you get all shy cause you like it.”
Your eyes widen, and you squirm in his arms, not exactly trying to get away. not really trying to get away at all, actually.
"Wonder how many times I’ve been sitting with you on the couch while your cunt gets all wet." Your body is frozen in embarrassment, it’s kinda hot. 'God. Don’t think like that Jesus'
"Yet you aren’t trying to stop me, are you?" His voice is so completely self-assured and cocky. Asshole.
It made you so wet. You aren’t trying to stop him. You don’t want him to stop, even though you should.
He pulls his hands back a little for you so that if you want to get out, you can. Without as much internal protest as you’d hoped, you stay completely still.
"See, I was right. You are just a little slut who wants to get touched by her stepbrother." You visibly cringe at that but feel slick spill into your panties at his words.
He roams his hands down until one stops directly above your waistline.
"Ethan," you said warningly. "Stop.."
“Oh but why? It feels like you like it when I talk to you like that. I mean… given the videos you were watching, I bet you like it.” You pushed up against him. You just want him closer, it doesn’t matter if it’s wrong. He knew what he was doing, making you feel small, degrading you. “You do like it, fuck.” He started grinding himself against your thigh. You did like it, you wanted him to keep going, keep making you feel small.
"Y'know, I've imagined touching you like this so many times. Every time you act like a brat or roll your eyes at me, all I wanna do is back you up against the counter and make you melt for me," he smirks.
"I thought you said you didn't think I'd be into this stuff."
“You can be into anything I want you to in my fantasies.” His other hand snakes up to start running his thumb up and down the column of your throat.
This really should not have such an effect on you, but it does. Your eyes flutter, and you let out a soft, needy breath as you lay your head back against him.
“Oh you like that? You like that I just imagine you in any position I want?” You nod your head reluctantly. Your lips open and close, but no sound comes out.
He’s barely even touched you, but it feels like your tongue is twisted up in your mouth. You can feel your resolve just slipping away the more he speaks to you, the more he touches you.
“Fuck,” his hand slide up your neck and went to the back of your head. “I know you do. Now get on your knees.”
His hand tangled in your hair right up against your scalp, and he tightened his grip a little, pulling your head back ever so slightly in the process.
The way he was talking to you, how he was treating you, all like you were just some object for his pleasure… fuck, it made you wet.
If this situation could possibly get any worse from you guys just doing anything at all in the first place, getting turned on from your stepbrother degrading and objectifying you would definitely make it worse.
You moaned softly when he pulled your hair as you started to kneel down in front of him slowly, struggling to resist the urge of responding ‘yes, sir.’ When your knees were on the ground and you finally stopped shifting around to get as comfortable as possible, you finally realized the position you were in.
You were about to suck your step-brothers cock.
But at this point, all thought or consideration of morality and shame had long been lost on you. Instead, the lewdness of the situation only fueled the fire, and part of you was just getting off on how wrong this was.
You felt filthy and all it did was make you want to continue. ‘Shit, what the hell is wrong with me?’, would be what you’d typically be thinking. And you were, just less in a self-deprecating way and more in a self-humiliation way.
You bite your lip at the site in front of you, Ethan’s clothed hard cock in his gray sweatpants. He had noticed how fixated you were and tilted his head at you with a smirk. 
“You want it?” You just stared up at him and moved your hands up to his thighs as you slid them up. “I asked you a question, answer me.” He pulled your hair a little harder this time, and you moaned a little louder.
"Yes, I want it," you answered. You felt as though your brain had formed into mush. You hadn't even registered his question as a question when he asked. You just knew you wanted to touch him.
“awe, you do?” He mocks your voice and pouts his lip before scoffing and leaning down ever so slightly. His thumb caressing your neck.
“Don’t worry, im gonna fuck this little throat of yours.” You shudder a little before just nodding your head and opening your mouth.
You loll your tongue out, and he grins. “Yeah, stay like that.” He slaps his heavy tip on your tongue, and you can taste the bitterness of his pre-cum.
“Open wider.” You obey him and open your mouth further. He leans forward and spits in your mouth. Your eyes flutter, and you press your thighs together, which doesn’t go unnoticed.
“You like that?” He laughs and rubs one of his fingers over your tongue. “You like it when I spit in your mouth? Fucking disgusting.”
He grips his cock and guides it onto your tongue before pushing into your mouth. He groans and holds your head back against the side of his bed before he starts thrusting into your mouth.
“Mmm, fuck. Such a good girl." He rutted into your throat, tilting his head back as his tip abused the back of your throat.
"What would your friends say if they knew you’re getting face fucked by your stepbrother, and loving it so much you’re practically dripping onto the floor? What would your mom say?” You really didn’t wanna think about his second question.
“Mmm.” You just hum around his cock in response and he smirked. It’s not like you could actually respond.
You kept your eyes on him, loving the way his jaw tightened when he hit the back of your throat. Or the way the muscles in his arms would twitch and flex under his tight shirt. He was right, you did love this and you could feel the discomfort of your sticky panties between your thighs, damp and uncomfortable.
His hand went to the top of your head to grip your hair between his fingers and he started pushing in faster.
“Yea? I’m gonna paint your pretty little throat and you’re going To .Take. Every. Ounce.” With each word he slammed his tip in the back of your throat.
“I’m gonna cum down this slutty throat and you’re gonna swallow it all and thank me.” His face and neck were a little red and he had this sheen of sweat that the light from his lamp bounced off of.
He looked like some kind of angel and if he wasn’t aggressively fucking your face you might’ve actually believed he was.
“Fuck, oh take it.” He moaned and pushed his cock to the back of your throat.
“Mmh, oh fuck… love sucking on your big brothers cock, yeah? Such a fucking cockwhore it doesn’t matter who it’s from.”
He was thrusting at a fervent pace, and it was evident he was just chasing his own high. Using your mouth as his personal fleshlight to fuck and fill.
It was hot being treated like this, especially by Ethan. He tightened his hold on your hair and pushed in a little too far which made you choke. It made slick pour into the gusset of your panties.
Fuck, he was right. You’re a total slut. Your hands went up to hold onto his thighs for support as your eyes closed. Spit drooled down your chin and onto your chest, tears poured down your cheeks which Ethan took pleasure in wiping away.
“Maybe you’ll let me fuck that pretty pussy. Bet she’s just crying for me.” ‘Next time?’ The thought made your skin burn with arousal. “Think you’re gonna let me fill up all your holes. Fuck. Yeah, I wanna see that. My obedient little stepsister leaking cum onto my bed, absolutely spent. Such a fucking whore you’d probably ask me to do it again. Fuck your little pussy till it’s sloppy and bred.” 
His hips stuttered, indicating he was close to release as be fucked your throat mercilessly.
He rutted his tip right against the back of your throat while he moaned and mumbled. “Good girl, good girl. Take it, baby.”
spurts of cum painted your throat as his thrusts grew weaker.
He pulled back out of your mouth and looked down at you while he stroked himself a few times to make sure he was done. A little bit of cum spilled from his tip and onto your thigh.
You could finally swallow now that he was out of your mouth, and god, it felt good. You opened your mouth to show him that you really did it.
He panted lifted you up, wiping cum and saliva off your chin.
"You're so pretty like this. You're making me hard again," he smirked, crawling on top of you.
He gripped your thighs, spreading them so he could position himself at your entrance.
"You want it? You want me deep inside you?" He whispered in your ear, teasingly as you could hear the smirk in his voice.
"Yes," you whimpered, peering at how absolutely amazing his cock looked. You imagined it deep inside you, fucking you better than you could take.
"Tell me how much you want it."
"So bad," you whined, tilting your hips up to feel a sense of relief in your desperate center, but be pulled back with a smug grin.
"Oh, I bet you do, because you're such a slut, aren't you? Such a slut for your stepbrother," he hissed when he slid his cock inside your walls, your wetness not making it difficult at all for him.
"Yes," you moaned out, thanking your lucky stars that he was inside you. God, you felt so dirty. He was your stepbrother, but it just made it that more hot.
"So tight," he groans as his hips rutted into yours, a moan slipping from your lips.
His hand wraps around your throat, barely squeezing but enough to where you swore you could've came just from the feeling of his hands choking you.
"Such a slut, so wet for me. For your stepbrother." He groaned, and he repeatedly slammed into that sweat spot, causing a loud moan to emerge.
"As much as I love you moaning for me, you have to keep quiet," he said as he clamped a hand over your mouth, making sure to leave your nose unblocked so you could breathe. "We'll get caught if you're too loud."
"Y/N?" Quinn knocked on the door. You froze, but Ethan continued fucking you, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust.
He removed his hand from your mouth and smirked.
"Yeah?" You called out, praying to whatever was out there that you wouldn't moan.
"Why's the door locked?" She jiggled the knob, but it wouldn't open.
"Um, just having some alone time. What do you.." Your eyes rolled back as his pace sped up. You bit your lip so hard you were afraid it might bleed. "What do you need?"
"Just checking on you. I thought I heard some noises," she said skeptically as she pressed her ear against the door only to be met with quiet creaks from the bed. "What are you doing?"
"I'm not doing anything," you replied quickly as Ethan bit down on your shoulder.
Ethan's pace sped up as he repeatedly slammed into you, the knot in your stomach tightening.
"Y/N, are you listening?" Quinn asked, obviously annoyed.
You must've missed something, accidentally drowned something out while Ethan was fucking you so good.
"S-Sorry, its kinda hard to... to focus when I'm watching something," you stammered, the knot in your stomach so close to snapping.
"Or when your stepbrother is deep inside you," Ethan whispered, practically destroying your pussy while you tried your best to keep quiet.
A silent moan escaped your lips, and you froze, terrified she heard it.
"What was that?" Quinn asked, her eyebrows raised even though you couldn't see her.
"What was what?" Your eyes rolled deep into your skull, legs trembling as you got closer and closer to your orgasm.
"Never mind, I'll leave you alone," Quinn said before walking away.
You let out a sigh of relief when you heard her bedroom door shut.
"Fuck, you did so good, keeping quiet for me," he groaned and his hips stuttered and his thrusts became harsher and quicker.
"Oh my god, m'gonna cum," you moaned, feeling helpless as Ethan fucked you mercilessly, his cock hitting all the right places inside you.
"Not yet," his grip around your throat tightened as he thrusted into you, obviously chasing his own high. "You'll cum when I say so."
You whined in protest, but it was no use. He had complete control over you. You would bend over backward just for his satisfaction.
"Please, please, please, please! I can't hold it, I need to cum," you whined, bucking your hips to the rhythm of his thrusts as you chased your high.
"Good girl," he smirked, biting his lip as he got closer to his own climax. "Cum for me."
You weren't sure if you came because he gave you permission or he just happened to allow you when you couldn't hold back anymore, because you came before he finished his sentence.
Your entire body shook as your orgasm ripped through you, but he wasn't finished yet.
"Fuck, you're so pretty when you cum," he hissed as he fucked you through your orgasm. The overtimulation was too much. You felt so good, but you could barely take it.
"I'm gonna fill this pretty cunt up with so much cum you can taste it," he groans. "Yeah? You like that? You want me to cum inside this pretty cunt of yours?"
You nod quickly as you felt a second orgasm form.
His free hand snaked down your body and applied pressure to your clit, rubbing it roughly and your moans got louder.
"So good for me," he praised as he sensed he was going to cum.
"M'cumming, cum for me," he ordered, his hips stuttering before you felt the warmth of his cum paint your walls the same time your second orgasm ripped through you.
"Fuck," he panted, burying his head in your neck.
He looked down at you, his cum dripping out of your abused hole.
"We should do that more often," he said with a smirk.
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4K notes · View notes
sahkuna · 1 month
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this is a follow up to this drabble i wrote abt fucking around with yuuji's older brother sukuna :3 but fret not, this can be read as a stand-alone
word count: 1.5k+
content warnings: 18+ minors dni, afab+fem! reader, childhood "friends" with benefits, best friend's brother trope, modern au, slight exhibitionism on the behalf of u and sukuna :3
You would rather die than step out into Sukuna's living room where his younger brother, Itadori Yuuji, sits blissfully unaware of your presence.
Half of you does not have the heart to walk out there and potentially expose the fact that ‘Hey, I’m that ‘random girl' that Sukuna has been canoodling with! Sorry about that, by the way!’ You couldn’t imagine his reaction and didn’t want to find out anytime soon, so you’re currently hiding out in Sukuna’s bedroom— praying and hoping that Yuuji would leave before you do.
After hearing the younger Itadori brother’s unrelenting fists pounding at Sukuna’s front door, you were absolutely mortified at the timing of it all. From his arrival to how Sukuna was balls deep inside your pussy— and showed little to no concern at the fact that Yuuji might hear the… commotion… on the other side— it all went from good to bad real fast.
It didn’t take long for Sukuna to grow irritated with the sounds of Yuuji’s incessant whining for him to open the door and not invite him over when he’s got ‘some girl’ there, before he finally pulled out of you, threw on some clothes and yanked the door open. Almost ripping it off its hinges.
Pushing back the thoughts of the sex (and how incredible it was), you focus on the main task at hand.
You need to leave. Now.
Squatted down on the floor, you search for your black lace bralette that Sukuna tossed into a corner hours before his little brother’s abrupt arrival. “Can’t believe this…” you mutter under your breath.
From behind you, you swear you hear a faint snicker coming from the man who got you in this predicament in the first place. He watches you with careful eyes as you tip-toe around his room with nothing but your jeans and socks on, trying not to alert your best friend in the next room over of your presence. “Relax, the brat can’t even hear you,” he says.
“You don’t know that,” you all but hiss, throwing a threatening glare (one that he doesn’t flinch under) Sukuna’s way. “He could be waiting there, ready to accost me the moment I walk out!”
Honestly, you wouldn’t blame Yuuji if he did choose to confront you and verbally rip you to shreds. For Christ’s sake, you were fucking his brother behind his back! Quite literally.
But despite the circumstances of you starting a “friends with benefits” type of relationship with Sukuna and how terrible it made you feel to secretly withhold something so significant from your best friend, you’d be lying if you said you wanted to stop.
Judging how Sukuna’s gaze trails up the expanse of your belly and lifts higher to linger briefly on the swell of your breasts, it’s safe to say he thinks the same.
 You toss a protective arm over your exposed chest to preserve some of your dignity despite the circumstances.
“Can you just—” you flounder for words, trying to find the best words to use next and finally settle on something. “Distract him? Talk to him so that when I leave, he doesn’t have time to digest that it’s me.”
There’s an amused glint in his eye, he’s far too entertained at your frail attempts to at least salvage this shitty situation. Your eyes leave him in search of your bra once more and breathe a quiet sigh of relief once you do spot it behind his dresser. “Just walk out the door. Who cares.” 
Wasting no time you throw on the undergarment, clasping it shut before your attention is drawn back to Sukuna. Your face morphs into pure astonishment at how nonchalant he is about this… and reckless. “Are you crazy?!” you whisper-yell for the second time that day.
The corners of his lips curl up, forming a wicked grin. “It’ll be fine. You should go out as you are right now.” He gestures at your half-dressed figure with an uncaring hand. “I’m sure he’ll like it.”
Speaking of…
“Give me one of your sweaters. Preferably one that has a hood.”
Sukuna’s eyes narrow, and his tone lowers a bit. “Leave with what you came with. Don’t know why you’re so threatened over the fact that he’ll see you.”
“No! Yuuji’s seen me one too many times in this shirt,” you reference the tee that is scribbled with your university’s name on its front, “so he’ll know it’s me if he were to turn his head.”
Sukuna clicks his tongue with annoyance and though it’s brief, you catch an expression that you can only chalk up to be one of disappointment flicker across his face before he schools it back into indifference. “Fine.”
Standing abruptly, Sukuna leaves his spot on his bed to head toward the closet. He digs around for a few seconds before he pulls out a black sweater and flings it at your face, effectively clouding your vision until you peel it off. “Hurry up then.” Is all you hear before he leaves the room to go see Yuuji once again.
Okay. That went… pretty well? Excluding the tough time Sukuna gave you before and after.
You let out another involuntary moan when Sukuna drives his hips into you when another round of knocks echoes throughout his apartment. You can feel your cunt squeeze around his cock, feeling the intense heat from the predicament you both were in right now.
“You’re real perverted, huh?” Sukuna’s hand finds the back of your neck. He squeezes. “Don’t tell me you’re getting turned on by this?”
Another muffled exclamation escapes you as you try to refute it, but Sukuna laughs at your attempt.
Yuuji might hear. Yuuji might hear. Yuuji might hear. That was all you could think of.
“Cute.” Is all Sukuna says before he’s back to thrusting his hips against yours. Forcing you to take it as you lay in a blissful, helpless state on his bed, rocking the bed roughly with every movement he made.
In and out, over and over and over and—
You smack your palms against your cheeks. Stop! Stop. Thinking. About it! You remind yourself.
You’re sure you’ve spent too much time here anyway, so you throw on Sukuna’s sweater hurriedly. As you hype yourself up to exit, you tuck away any hair that may show into the hoodie.
Thankfully, it seems like Yuuji has delved into chattering boisterously away about God knows what to Sukuna, while his older brother just sits there only offering a few grunts and affirmatory noises to show that he was listening. Kinda… Not really.
Stepping out from the bedroom, you close the door in a manner that would have Sukuna chiding you to ‘hurry the fuck up’. Once that’s done, you very quietly pad down the hallway and make a beeline straight towards your shoes. You thank your lucky stars you chose ones that were easy to slip on.
Great. Everything is going smoothly so far.
Yuuji’s still talking away and unaware of your company and you’re all dressed, ready to head back out to where the bustling street of Tokyo awaits you.
But it gets shot down too fast. Before you can even grasp your hand around the doorknob, you hear Sukuna speak up from behind you.
“Leaving so soon?”
That fucking asshole.
No way in hell did he just draw attention to you right as you were about to step out the door.
Biting your cheek you keep your back facing them, forehead pressed into the door’s frame as you grip its doorknob to refrain from screaming. “Mhm!”
Sukuna’s laughter is low and taunting. You can tell that he’s basking in this moment, being able to mock both you and his little brother at the same time in a manner that screams I know something that you don’t know.  “You know, she went to the same school as you, kid.” He’s now talking to Yuuji, prompting him to say something to you and he bites.
“It’s uh… nice to meet you?” you hear Yuuji say.
God, you can even picture that dumb confused yet polite expression he makes when he’s caught in an awkward situation.
“Mhm!” you repeat, because what the fuck else is there to say?
There’s a long beat of silence, the brothers don’t say anything and neither do you. You wouldn’t dare.
It isn’t until Itadori’s voice from the couch floats over to you. His tone is riddled with confusion and a bit of recognition. “Hold on, I think I—”
“I’m gonna see her off, don’t move.” Sukuna commands, successfully interrupting his train of thought. Swooping into the rescue, you hear him come up to you. He toes on his shoes and places his palm on top of yours so that he can twist the knob open. His hand dwarfs the size of your own.
Woof.
You’re ushered outside, and it’s like that all the way to the elevator with Sukuna’s hand still seizing your hand. It’s only when you slap your hand against the button calling for the elevator that he lets go. You don’t bother exchanging any parting words for him, seeing that you’re too peeved to do so anyway. Thus, Sukuna speaks up before the lift dings signifying its arrival.
“Same time next week?”
“Shut. Up!”
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un-lawliet · 6 months
Note
WHAT IF teen!Gojo and teen!reader are best friends teetering on the edge of lovers but they get into a petty little argument and start ignoring each other right???? so reader goes on a date with someone else to be petty and Gojo internally freaks out. So, him and his friends get in disguises as Gojo tries to sabotage the date without being noticed but instead he accidentally helps the other guy look great and impressive every time💀
Geto, shoko, and Nanami don’t help Satoru. They just watch and laugh😭 good fluffy ending though pls
THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST !!!!! i loved this idea so so much- i kinda tweaked the request slightly but i hope this is ok <3 i love you and thank you for your patience !
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“Normal”
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- in which you’re on a date with someone that isn’t Gojo.
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“Does this count as stalking?”
It absolutely did count as stalking.
Gojo, Shoko, Nanami and Geto were currently huddled in a dimly lit booth hunkering down as to not be seen by you…or your pompous looking date sat opposite you.
“It’s not stalking.” Gojo splutters, glaring at Geto through the top of his sunglasses, “It’s just..just-”
“You tracking Y/N down and making us watch her on a date.” Shoko muses, rolling a cigarette between her fingers, reaching for her lighter.
“Exactly!”
Nanami groans, his head falling backwards, hair falling over the curve of his eyebrows, hiding his face slightly.
Shaking his head, a small grin dances across Geto’s calm face, watching as Gojo pouts and glares at your table, eyes completely trained on your face.
“‘S’not even that good looking, she just has a thing for guys that flatter her.” He grumbles under his breath, flicking the fancy wall he leaned on.
“Think most girls enjoy feelin’ pretty Gojo.” Shoko replies, hand still feeling around in her pocket, “Oh fuck sakes, I’ve lost my lighter…Hey- Geto, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare one on ya?”
Geto nodded, tossing her a purple lighter from across the table, smiling gently as she thanked him.
“You shouldn’t smoke inside.” Nanami mutters, now staring down at the menu in-front of him, finger tracing along the prices in thought, seeming to pause on the brownie section.
“No one can see, we’re fine.” She sighs, taking a drag and blowing it towards Gojo, grinning as he dramatically clutches his chest, gasping for air.
“What’s the point of us even being here Gojo.” Nanami huffs, side eyeing the bakery stand parallel to their table.
“Because, I need to show her that this..this loser is nothing compared to me!”
“I don’t know Satoru.” Geto muses, taking a sip of his camomile, “Y/N seems pretty into him.”
“Suguru!” Gojo gasps in horror, betrayal dripping from his voice and on to the curve of his disgusted face.
Shoko wiggles her eyebrows teasingly, inhaling before continuing. “He has a point Gojo, I mean look, you ever see her smile like that?”
Gojo whips his head around to stare at you, and Shoko covers her mouth to hide a poorly restrained giggle, sharing a glance with Geto.
“I make her smile like that- She smiles like that with me!!” He whines, and Nanami rolls his eyes.
A waitress smashes a glass from behind the café’s counter, you jump slightly in your seat and turn to look over at the sound, you don’t notice the group of strange looking teenagers ducking down at your movement, concealing themselves poorly in their seats.
Your date laughs at you, you blush and turn back to him bashfully, excusing yourself for being so on edge.
Gojo glares.
“So what’s the plan then Gojo.” Nanami drawls, resting his face on his palm.
“Yes! The plan!” Gojo splutters, looking away from your pretty, pretty face to look at the three of them.
He hesitates and Shoko groans.
“You do have a plan don’t you?”
“Of course I do!..So, the plan..the plan um, well-”
“He has no plan.” Geto interrupts.
“Jesus Christ Gojo.”
“Does that mean I can leave?”
“Shut up!” Gojo exclaims, “I’m thinking give me a second would ya?”
“Nanami if your leaving I’m coming with you.”
“Wanna go now Shoko?”
“Guys!”
Gojo slumps forward in his chair, his face resting on the table as he whines.
Geto rests a hand on his back and chuckles, shaking his head at the two other sorcerers.
“It’s ok Satoru, we can all figure something out ‘kay?”
“Yea?” Gojo replies, his voice muffled by the table.
“Yea.”
Instantly, Gojo springs up, his eyes as wide as his smile.
“Ok let’s brainstorm.” Geto suggest, his voice like honey as he removes his hand from Gojo’s back and reaches back to his tea.
“What if we spill tea over him!” Gojo gasped, pointing towards the cup in Geto’s hand, a sharp look crossing his face.
“Stupid. Y/N would see us.” Shoko grumbles.
“No- See Shoko, the point of a brain storming session means we make suggestions and listen without judgement.” Gojo argues, crossing his arms.
“Yea but your idea was stupid.” Nanami concludes, watching as Shoko nods.
“You suggest something then Nanamin!”
“I’m suggesting nothing, this whole idea is foolish.”
“OoOoh “Foolish” is it?”
“I’m leaving.”
Nanami stands up reaching for his bag, scowling at Gojo.
“Hey, hey Nanami c’mon ignore him he’s just..” Geto pauses with a quick regard to Gojo, “He’s just Satoru.”
“An idiot.” Shoko chimes.
“Yes, an idiot.”
Nanami sighs as he sits down, placing his brown bag back at his feet reluctantly ignoring Gojo’s grin.
“…What if we trip up the waitress as she’s bringing them their food.” Shoko suggests, twirling a piece of hair around her finger.
“That could work!”
“No, Satoru, that just causes trouble to the waiting staff.”
“And?”
Geto rolls his eyes, “We don’t need to cause anyone any trouble just because you’re too afraid to just ask Y/N out.”
“I am not afraid!” Gojo moans, putting his face in his hands.
“Uh huh, that’s why you fell out with her when she told you about the date.” Shoko laughs, wiping off ash from her arm.
“What was I supposed to do?” Gojo queries, frowning.
“Talk to her?” Nanami deadpans, “Like a normal person.”
“Our Gojo isn’t normal though.” Shoko winks, nudging an unamused Nanami.
“Focus guys.” Geto says, clapping his hands twice to draw attention.
Your sweet laugh echoes through the cafe, and Gojo pouts, shoulders slumping.
You were supposed to be sitting opposite him laughing.
It was supposed to be his food with which you shared.
And yet one petty argument about some random guy you had met in returning from your last mission asking you out, had ruined everything.
The shared glances between you and Gojo, how you leaned on his shoulder when you slept in classes, the way he would always keep an eye on your cursed energy when joining you in battle.
All those little moments had dissolved in the bitter moments after you informed him of your date, a small smile dancing in your eyes.
“He said I was pretty Toru’” You had said, your eyes wide, and Gojo wanted to cover the love sick gleam glistening in your eyes with his hand.
“I always think your pretty.” He mumbled, watching you cock your head in confusion.
“What was that?” You questioned, leaning towards him slightly, trying to recall his quiet words.
“Nothin’.” His curt response didn’t phase you as you moved backwards, a charming skip in your step.
“Think he sounds stupid.” Gojo was never good at expressing his true feelings, and in that moment, Gojo’s sheer panic over you leaving him overpowered his aloofness.
“You think someone thinking I’m pretty is stupid?” Your shoulders fell, and you turn to him, a small lour crossing your face.
“What? No? That’s not what I-”
“It what’s you said though Toru’” You sighed, and Gojo cursed at himself for the glimmer of insecurity that appeared to vex you in that moment.
“It’s just- Well he’s just stupid.”
“So you are calling him stupid for telling me I’m pretty.”
“No! He’s stupid! Not his words!”
“That’s the same thing Gojo!”
“Is not!”
“Is too!”
And now Gojo’s watching as Geto summons one of his smallest and weakest curses to push your stupid dates chair over, sunglasses off and held in his fist.
“Oh so we’re actually going with this plan? I wasn’t imagining it?” Shoko muses, stealing a forkful of Nanami’s brownie.
“Nobody else had any better ideas.” Gojo silenced, waving a hand in her direction, practically clamouring on top of Geto to watch.
“Satoru watch it, I can’t see where my curse is going with you on me.” Geto scolds, brushing the white haired man off.
“I can’t believe this is happening.” Nanami’s disinterest oozes out from his voice, nudging his plate over to Shoko who smiles brightly at his offer.
Geto flexes his hand, ensuring that the curse went unnoticed by you, it ducked under a table and weaved between chair legs.
“Make sure Y/N doesn’t see it!” Gojo panics, his hand covering his mouth.
Geto pauses, and looks over his shoulder towards Gojo, eyebrow raised.
“…Sit down Satoru.”
And Gojo immediately drops, hands on his legs.
The curse bobbles over to under your dates chair, and Geto smiles, before releasing his hold.
.
.
.
The sound of your dates chair toppling over boomed through the cafe, and with a swift flick of his finger, the curse dissapears, and all four of the sorcerer’s immediately drop their heads.
“Oh my God? Are you ok?!” Your concerned voice follows, and you stand up instantly, rushing towards your date, who grins at you from the floor.
“Oops, must have slipped.” He smiles, accepting your hand in helping in up, wiping the memory of his fall off of his jeans. “At least I have a pretty lady to help me in my moment of weakness.”
You giggle, and push his shoulder, “Oh shush you tease.” Bending over to pick up his chair.
“Oh no don’t worry I got it.” Your date winks, helping you lift the chair.
“How??!?!” Gojo groans, watching you swoon, “What is happening?”
“Man.. She must really like him eh?” Shoko offers, sharing a cheeky smile with Geto.
“Maybe it’s hopeless.” Nanami chimes in, “Do you want to finish this?” He asks Shoko, gesturing to the half eaten brownie.
“Actually?”
“Yea go on, you seem to be enjoying it.”
“Maybe.” Geto cuts in, “Maybe we should just leave them be? Let it fizzle out naturally?”
“What if there is no naturally Suguru.” Gojo mopes, kicking the leg of the table.
“Gojo it’s obvious she likes you, and it’s obvious you’re both smitten.” Shoko says, her voice muffled and she finishes Nanami’s brownie.
“..You think?”
“Everyone thinks.” Nanami replies, “Haibara thought you two were dating when we first joined the school.”
“How is Haibara by the way?” Geto questioned, “Why didn’t he join us?”
“Not sure, he said something about needing more sleep before his first solo mission.”
“Isn’t that next week?” Shoko adds.
“He likes his sleep.”
“Come on guys! Focus!!” Gojo exclaims. “I’m in a dire situation here!!”
“A dire situation that could be solved with a conversation, Gojo.” Nanami rolls his eyes.
“Try the curse again Suguru.”
“Satoru it didn’t work once, it probably won’t work a second time.”
“Ugh.” Gojo slumps back, a sigh escaping his lips. “If you’re all so sure Y/N likes me, then why is she with that loser right now?”
“She probably got tired waiting for you to make a move Gojo.” Shoko replies.
“Yea the “will they, won’t they” becomes tiresome after a while.” Geto agrees, pushing his empty cup towards the middle of the table.
“Ah!” Shoko says pointing over at you.
“They’re leaving Gojo.” Nanami affirms, joining Shoko in pointing.
“What?!?” Gojo gapes, “No!”
Geto laughs, shoving Gojo to his feet, watching you leave the cafe. “Go get her Satoru.”
“But how?” Gojo moans.
“Just go!” They all exclaim, and Gojo pauses for a split second before he’s bounding towards the door.
By the time he’s outside, you’re waving goodbye to your date, promising to call him as he walks the other way.
You look happy he thinks, and suddenly feels very out of place.
Gojo’s begins to turn to go back into the cafe, admitting defeat, when he hears your voice behind him.
“Gojo?” You gasp, disbelief permeating from your voice. And Gojo freezes, turning around awkwardly to face you.
“Hi.” Gojo replied, scuffing his shoes against the ground as he approaches you, hands in his pockets attempting to appear cool.
You look at him, your mouth slightly agape as you fiddle with the sleeve of your jumper, processing his appearance.
“You followed me to my date?” You ask accusingly, glancing around.
“He didn’t offer to take you home?” Gojo chooses to ignore you, refusing to acknowledge the implication of your words.
“I told him I could go back by myself.”
“Some guy.”
“Satoru.” You pause, lifting a hand to stop him, “Why are you here?”
A car drives past the pair of you, it’s headlights cast shadows across his perfect face and your hold yourself back from staring.
He stalls, looking at you for a moment. “C’mere, I’ll walk you home.”
“Satoru.”
You’re tired of his deflections, for once you just want to talk.
You both stare at each-other, silence decorating the air between you.
And Gojo shakes his head, stepping backwards and looking away.
“You look good.” He mutters.
“Good?”
“Pretty alright? You look pretty, he was right.”
“My date?”
Gojo’s sunglasses fall down the bridge of his nose slightly as he leans down to look at you.
“Who else?” He muses.
You don’t understand, your heart fluttering pathetically in your chest as you prove further.
“Why are you telling me this now?” You ask, your voice light, scarce of hope.
“Because.” Gojo hesitates, hating how unsure he sounds in this moment. “Because you are.”
You step towards him, it’s a slow movement and Gojo watches you almost cautiously.
“It took me going on a date with someone else for you to finally say something?” You tease, your hands shaking despite the confidence in your words.
“Would have said something without him, y’know?”
“..Really?” Your eyes widen, a tiny grin crossing your face.
Gojo nods, and you take another step and hug him, burying your face in the warmth of his chest.
And Gojo’s smile almost hurts his cheeks as he wraps his arms around your figure, pulling you in closer.
“You’re an idiot.” You mumble, looking up at him.
“But you like me.” He replies, cockily grinning down at you, blue eyes sparkling.
“Yea, I do.” You whisper, clinging to him, moving your head backdown to face his chest, face burning with your confession.
A small kiss is placed on the top of your head and you hold back a giddy laugh, pulling away from his embrace completely.
“So…Does that mean you’ll let me take you out?” Gojo questions, taking your hand and pulling you gently along to walk with him.
“Hmm I don’t know..Are you asking?” Your head leans on his arm, grabbing his arm as you walk.
“I would take you somewhere much better than that shitty cafe.”
And you’re laughing, “You love that cafe Toru.”
And he laughs with you, a long arm circling around your shoulders, pulling you impossibly closer to him.
And Geto, Shoko and Nanami watch from the window of the cafe, shaking their heads.
“Idiots.” Shoko says.
“Completely.” Nanami agrees.
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Masterlist <3
Feel free to leave a request !
A/N : HELLLLLOOOO PEOPLE !! ABBY’S BACK !!! thank you for the request sweets this is literally one of my favourite concepts ever I cannot cope!!!! I love teenage Gojo so much :( BUT ALSO Shoko <333333 — i hope everyone is happy and healthy, i finished this at 2am and i have school tmrw pls kill me rn i hope a car hits me when i walk in, genuinley this no longer a joke.
LOVE YOU
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twi-liight · 9 months
Note
Hi! I suffer from Baldur's Gate brainrot. I just stumbled upon your blog and love your writing! Could you do some Astarion, Gale and Karlach headcanons for taking care of Tav after they're badly injured in battle?
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Reckless Attack ❣
Grieve, weep, and agonize over a corpse - but know that death is never final in Faerun. The burden of injuries will instead always be present: pain is eternal, no matter how numb. ❥ Astarion/Tav, Gale/Tav, Karlach/Tav. ❥ TW: Descriptive mentions of injuries and gore. ❥ Act 2 spoilers. ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav. ❥ Tav is the nickname for the reader/oc insert. Their real name is up to you!
An Absolutist cult has gathered deep in the bowels of the forests of Rivington. Nothing out of the ordinary... Other than the sheer numbers they possess, creating a dense population of Absolute extremists gathered in stone ruins.
Adventuring parties that dare to end their machinations perished slowly and painfully. Their corpses - what is left of them - are displayed pierced from the gnarled branches of the trees, where they bleed out on the forest ground.
Tav, Astarion, Gale, and Karlach had a plan: throw a barrel full of smoke bombs into the middle of the ruins, firebolt, and profit. Except things didn’t go according to plan (they never do). That barrel was supposed to be at their rendezvous point, but the cultists found it before they did and thought it a gift from their Goddess.
Trapped in hiding, Tav decided to do what they do best: attack.
A potent necromancy curse was successfully cast on Tav, negating any healing spells thrown their way.
Well.
Fuck.
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ASTARION
"As always, you refuse to listen to me. And now look at you: a mess. What did I say about running afool to the vanguard?" Astarion does not wait for their response. “Don't do it. It is smarter to be in the shadows in this instance. And what did you do? Ran alone into a quarry of cultists with no sense of self-preservation!”
Anger, pure anger, is present in his voice, sharpening his typical melodic lilt into daggers. If he cared about the present company - Shadowheart, Halsin, and Gale crowded into a tent, surrounding Tav upon their cot - it is nonexistent in his wine-red eyes. They could get lost in those bloody depths for hours. But not now. Not when seething rage roils off of his body like a cloud of darkness.
They look away.
"Nothing to say for yourself, darling?” he mocks. Astarion’s visage twists into a sneer, sharply turning his face away from them. He finds an unused rag, wets it, wrings it of excess water, and then moves past Shadowheart. “Allow me,” he murmurs to her, gentler.
Shadowheart’s inquisitive green eyes understand the depth of the situation immediately. She sighs, clearly annoyed he has taken over her job, but is dissuaded by Astarion’s next string of words: “I’ll clean them up. Magic and healing and all that wonderful nonsense are not necessarily my area of expertise. A firebolt here and there, surely, but I wouldn’t know where to begin with a curse that... Negates healing magic.”
“Sure,” Shadowheart replies, eyes flicking to Tav. Worry is evident over her features. Worry hangs heavy around everyone. Emerging out of battles victorious and grievously injured is commonplace; nothing a mass healing word couldn't fix along with a good night’s rest. Open wounds would be closed scars, ailments would be cured, and broken bones would be unbroken. Rinse and repeat.
This time, it is different.
They, and they alone, were cursed with a necromancy spell that makes all healing magic useless to their wounds.
Their wounds are appalling: Broken ribs evident with the pain swelling in their chest and labored breathing, purple and black blotchy bruises from the hammer blows they took to the shoulder, an open laceration across their chest, their ankle snapped in two, burns on their left leg crawling up their thigh. Blood all over their face from their own and from the enemies they felled.
“Hey, it’s fine,” they wheeze out. "Nothing I can't handle. The cultists are down and dead and buried - everything else can come after."
Hesitantly, Gale opens his mouth to reply, but is abruptly cut off by Astarion snapping out: "No."
"No," they echo. Their brows furrow.
"What a saint you are," Astarion snarls. His lips are down-turned, fangs bared as he speaks, but his ministrations upon their face are soothing. Gently, he rubs off the blood with a cool washcloth, eyes focusing on the task at hand as he cannot bear to look at them.
"Throwing yourself into the heat of battle like that, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Tell me, my dear, do you enjoy watching rational fly past you when you make your impulsive decisions?"
They flush with humiliation and hurt. Broken and battered, they dig their elbow into the cot to prop themselves up and face Astarion head-on, but Halsin presses a hand into their shoulder and pushes them down.
Fuck. Their head spins in circles.
"You're one to talk. Impulsivity is your middle name; you said yourself that planning is not your forte." Even raising their voice hurts but they do it anyway. Their eyes, threatening to slip into oblivion, flood with frustrated tears. "What the fuck is your problem, Astarion?"
"Must I really spell it out for you, sweetheart? You go around, telling everyone exactly what they need to hear. You tell them they aren't alone. That you will help them, that you will ensure they see the future that they want." The words are venom: petty and spiteful and yearning to be understood. "You," Astarion hisses out, "are so blind."
Tempers rising to fever pitch, Halsin tenses from his spot at the foot of the cot. From the corner of Tav's eye, they see Gale murmur something to him, something like, Let this play out. Astarion would never hurt them.
"I am the only one who will take the first step!" Tav cries. The words explode out of their broken chest faster than they realize, flying like an arrow straight toward Astarion's unbeating heart. "I risk my life - every day - for all of YOU! For all the people that need me! For all that I am because-"
"Because what?" He taunts. "Because it is the right thing to do? Look at yourself, Tav! You are on death's door if not for everyone in this room!"
"Because no one else will do it! Not anyone in this damn camp cares enough to- to help the people we could-" They cough violently, but they slam their elbows into the cot to prop themselves up. No one stops them this time as they meet Astarion's burning eyes. "No one cares but ME-"
"WE care about you!" Louder. Vicious. Astarion's voice splits in the air in two in one fell swoop, striking them down like lightning into silence.
He's breathing heavily, panting, as if exhausted. The adrenaline pumping in his veins is begging him to swoop Tav up and run away with them. Away from all of this bullshit and into hiding within the shadows. Maybe the Underdark. Maybe the Shadowcursed Lands. They can descend into madness together.
At least there, they will be safe.
"I care about you," Astarion chokes out before he can stop himself. "More than anything. Do you know that? I hope you know that."
Their mouth forms the words to reply, Of course I do, but it doesn't leave their throat. Instead, it stays stuck there like a fluttering butterfly, forced into silence. It hurts to speak. It hurts to talk. It hurts to see him like this.
He calls out their name so quietly it could have been a trick of the wind.
"Astarion," they plead.
He shakes his head, stubborn and unconvinced. "You don't owe these people anything. You certainly do not owe them your life for their burdens. I," he breathes out, voice as shaky as a leaf in the wind. He screws his eyes shut and clenches his fist around the rag, where their blood stains his palm.
"I almost lost the sun of my life today."
When Astarion opens his eyes, they are steeled with resilience and fury as they gaze into theirs. It is hypnotic. It is lonely. They yearn to comfort him.
"It will not happen again."
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GALE
"Easy," Gale murmurs, a strong arm laying them down in his tent. Soft blankets and pillows meet their back, and the cushy grass beneath makes for a cool and comforting sleep. Their breath stutters, but Gale gazes at them so fondly as he pushes their hair from their face that the pain eases.
He does not miss their labored breathing. "Shhh shh shh. I've got you. Just focus on me."
His thumb lingers on the swell of their cheek. His eyes flutter close. A gentle glow of purple surrounds him, and eventually, that gentleness extends to Tav. The agonizing, piercing sensation in their chest numbs into a cool, muted nothingness. They gasp - then exhale in relief, slower than their panicky, short breaths from before.
"That's it," he encourages. "Well done, my love. How are you feeling?"
"So-so," they reply. Their voice aches and croaks, but for some reason, it makes Gale smile.
Oh no. He knows that look.
They study his handsome, tired face, looking for any signs of alarm. Is he hungry? Does he need to feed on another artefact? Was there an envoy telling them they missed another Absolutist hideout? Did they miss something? Did they do something wrong?
No. Nope. "Enough of that." He takes their hand, kisses their knuckles, then sighs. "You're the last person who should be worrying about someone. Such a pest, hm? Always buzzing around me like I'm seconds away from disappearing in front of your eyes..."
"You are," they say. Their brows furrow, and they pant out, "The-- your burden to carry, the--"
"The orb, I know. I know." His heart twists. It aches. He failed Mystra before and that was painful. But this is another subject entirely; it couldn't come close. Watching sheer heartbreak in their expression because of him? Oh, Goddess forgive him, he has failed them.
Gale can scarcely celebrate his victory, too. He undid the damned curse that affected Tav's ability to receive magic. The necromancy spell was so potent that Tav rejected any healing spells thrown at them. Late into the hours of experimentation, he, Halsin, and Shadowheart considered allowing the effects to wither and die rather than exterminating it outright. It was Jaheira who told them it would be inefficient, because how long would they have to wait in camp while Tav rode out the effects of the curse? Ideally? Hours. But days? Weeks? Months?
He spent the long night following and feeling out the curse with the Weave. It was a complicated hex - a tangled knot of magic that had to be unwoven carefully, thread by thread. Every connotation, every intent was traced back to the heart of the curse, and he followed it with abandon.
"I'm sorry for all the trouble, then," they whisper.
"You should be," he jests. "Nearly made my heart collapse, seeing you like that."
The image is still burned into his mind. He can't stop thinking about it. His mortality has always been a dreadful afterthought pushed into the further recesses of his tadpole-addled brain, but was he so taken with Tav that he never realized how mortal they were, too?
No. No. Gale tightens his grip on their hand, giving them a comforting squeeze as they breathe in and out, in and out. It's not that he never realized how susceptible they are to death and danger. He just never wanted to confront it.
"You are changing the very premise of my life," he says softly. An exasperated chuckle leaves him as he shakes his head, adding, "as always. I don't know what I would have done if I actually lost you, back there." What wouldn't I do? "No scrolls of revivifies, no Withers to bring you back. I wouldn't be able to accept it."
He understands Ketheric Thorm all too well, now.
"Come here," they whisper. Gale lets their hands press into the back of his head. He thinks, absently, that he would let them do much of anything. In their care, he is no grand wizard with a plethora of achievements under his belt. No. He is as humble as the Weave itself, and their hands compose music and art for him to simply bear witness to.
They rest his head upon their chest, where his ear can listen to the comforting sound of their beating heart.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud thud.
"Good night, my love," Gale says, when their breathing evens and they have finally fallen into peaceful slumber. He does not sleep at all.
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KARLACH
"Oh gods. Oh gods!" Karlach clasps Tav's left hand between hers, holding tightly and vowing to never let go. Their blood stains her hand and chest and clothes. It's everywhere. Sickly sweet and sticky, drawing all of her attention from the room to the sensation of it dripping down her skin.
They've lost so much blood. It's nauseating, like an unsettling reality has just settled in her stomach.
"Tav!" She exclaims, helpless and pathetic. "Why did you do that, you big idiot? You seriously could have gotten killed out there, why-- why aren't you..."
Responding? Where are their quips, their sass, their brightness she fell so fast and hard for? Tav lays there upon the cot, broken and battered. Karlach has seen the remains of her enemies after she has slaughtered them and has barely flinched. She can barely stomach the sight of them bloodied, bones twisted in the wrong way, bruises so purple they're as black as a chasm.
All they can do is breathe. Their eyes focus distantly above them to the roof of the tent, but nothing else.
Panic seizes her faster than she can control it. "Are they breathing?! Are they going to survive this?! Fuck," she growls, running a frustrated hand through her dark hair, matted with blood. "I should have made those sons of bitches suffer."
"Karlach," Shadowheart says, firm but gentle, her hands bloody too as she applied pressure down on Tav's wounds, "it was important that you returned them to camp as fast as you did. Sometimes, we do not have the luxuries to let our enemies die in pain."
Right. Right. Karlach watched an Absolutist barbarian slam his warhammer into Tav's back. Once to knock them down. Twice to keep them plastered on the ground. Once more to keep them unconscious. She saw red, then: the rage she slipped into boiled her veins so hot, the howl she let out sent her surroundings enemies into a frightened frenzy. She hacked her great axe into the barbarian over and over and over until he was nothing but a bloodied pulp of a man, more gore than flesh.
She scooped Tav up from the ground. Karlach never let anyone else touch them. She snarled and snapped at the others who tried to come too close and dead sprinted as fast as she could back to camp.
She heard their choked sobs of pain in her arms. They choked out her name, and Karlach couldn't offer them much of anything other than an, "We're going home, bubs, just hang on. 'Kay? You just focus on me."
"Can I stay here?" She begs Shadowheart. "I won't get in the way. Just let me hold their hand, please."
Shadowheart exchanges a conflicted glance at Halsin. He nods, and she sighs. "Fine," she says. "But - I need you to stand to the side for now. You can hold their hand after we're done figuring out how to undo this curse."
"A fine specimen of a curse, really," Gale adds, his hand curled under his chin. "I'm almost impressed."
"I would be too," huffs Shadowheart, "if our reckless leader wasn't caught up in this mess. Really, what were you thinking?"
"Right?" Karlach shoves off into the corner of the tent, doing her best to keep herself as small and as out-of-the-way as possible. Tears flood her eyes, and she chokes out, "Of all the things to do, why did it have to be that? I thought you said you trusted me! To have your back! I have your back, don't I? Don't I?"
"Of course you do," Halsin croons. He hooks his finger into a bottle of salve, and spreads it on Tav's burns. Tav visibly winces and tenses, whimpering in pain.
"Stop whatever you're doing right now!" Karlach wails. "You're hurting them! I'll kill you, Halsin, I swear it!"
Gale exchanges a look with Shadowheart. He ponders deeply for a moment as Karlach sobs devastatingly behind them. He opens his mouth, then shuts it promptly.
"Just say it," Shadowheart urges impatiently.
"We should play a game," he suggests. "The quiet game."
"No way," Karlach hiccups. "I'm dogshit at that game. Anyway, focus on Tav or I'll gut you, seriously."
❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3
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thesturniolos · 2 months
Text
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make you mine ~ m.sturniolo x reader (she/her)
જ⁀➴. summary: i mean you know what they say, keep your friends close but always keep your enemies closer- just how much closer?
જ⁀➴. warnings: filthy smut, fingering, dumbification, degradation, praise, rope bunny, spitting, spanking (i’m sorry), dom!matt and sub!matt, jealousy, brat!reader, a little angsty (cause yk i fw that too much)
જ⁀➴. this is for @annamcdonalds67 challenge!! i will be basing this fic off of madison beer’s ‘make you mine’ !
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
‘i wanna lay you down, i wanna string you up, i wanna make
you mine.’
do you know that feeling when you’re drunk, so drunk that your mind feels like a fog? like a layer of cloud and mist has settled into the crevices of your brain, seeping into your every thought. a fog so powerful that it alters your visions and brings hidden secrets to the tip of your tongue, the kind of secrets that would change something, anything once and for all.
and in that moment, the feeling of freedom outweighs all the consequences of letting that secret out. slowly, my fogged brain pieces together to allow my hands to fiddle with the padlocks of the secret. to untie the tangled chains, to swivel the tiny little key around on the pads of my fingers, to push the blade into the hole in the chest.
and just like that, a secret sworn to never be spread dribbles down the edges of the box and every thought telling me, yelling actually, that what i’m about to do is wrong is etched away by a metaphorical marker and nothing will stop me from what i want to do and what i’m going to do.
the dizzying noise of a thousand people, some my friends, most of them random people you’d find at classic LA parties, is silenced by the sound of my beating heart and the blood pumping viciously around my body.
it’s the kind of passion that comes from envy, that comes from jealousy, that comes from resent so blinding that every step you take feels like it could break the marble floor underneath your feet. or that steam pushing out of your ears could be visible.
it’s the kind of jealousy that comes from seeing a person you care so deeply about in a corner with some bitch who knows nothing about him.
like- she doesn’t know what he likes and doesn’t like, she doesn’t know that he has three books by his bed and that one of them has her initials carved into the fourteenth page. she would never know that his own couch has an imprint from where my fucking ass sits everyday. like she wouldn’t know that their shared ‘hatred’ wasn’t actually real. just like how she doesn’t know that he is not on the market and she has absolutely no fucking place in the world to have her wretched bones on his skin.
you’d assume that in a situation like this time slows like a movie but it doesn’t. it speeds and i can’t keep track of anyone around me or what song is playing or even what drink is sloshing onto my hand from my cup. i just know exactly where it’s going to go though.
before i step foot into the beaming light of the kitchen, two hands grab my hips and swivel me around. two hands that won’t be there in a minute if they don’t leave my body.
im met with a pair of very similar eyes and i suddenly feel very guilty for thinking what i thought a second ago.
‘hey! where have you been all night? me and nick have been looking for you literally everywhere.’ chris’ eyes look concerned but his smile is still in full tact.
‘i’ve been talking to people, catching up-‘
‘did something happen? cause you know, you look like you’re gonna kill somebody’ he laughs, his hands leaving my hips and i brush the area off where he touched, holding my head high to hopefully hide the seeving look on my face.
‘just people liking to get up in my business, you know how it is. ‘ i nod, sipping from cup, immediately regretting because actually wtf is in it.
‘okay, well- me and nick were about to leave, we’re just tryna round you and matt up.’ my teeth clench together at the sound of his name.
‘yeah, i don’t know chris. i might go home later, feels like we only just got here!’
‘it’s literally 2am, we’ve been here 4 and half hours already-‘
“come on, chris! when do you ever get to go to a party as big as this? go find a girl or something- give yourself a good time!’ his eyebrows furrow and he shrugs his shoulders.
“i guess so-“
“you gotta get over that bitch ex of yours anyways, perhaps this could be your perfect time.” and with that, he was fully listening. his shoulders now standing upright and his posture as straight as possible.
“you’re right, y/n. oh, look- there’s matt! guess he’s already a step ahead of me and you.”
my head spirals around is quickly, i think i saw stars. big, white, angry shooting stars. the sight of his hands clenching onto her ass, pushing her against a kitchen counter. her dress slowly riding up her thighs, thanks to his legs prying them open.
and with that, something ticks inside me.
i’ve been jealous before. hell i’ve been the most jealous in the room. but have you ever been so jealous that a rack of knives looked appealing and the bat that hangs above the wall in the living room looked handy dandy to do the exact job you needed to?
why was it always the bitchiest of girls who all the guys hate -but apparently not so because she’s tugging on one of their dicks by saturday.
well guess what? two can play at that game, bitch.
i turn around to find a good looking guy, not so attractive that i could become attached but not ugly enough for me to be gagging when i run my hands along his dick.
‘you. come with me.” i gesture, my fingers curving in to lure him into me.
his brows furrow and he scoffs, “why?”
“cause i fucking said so, come with me.” i drag his hand and he turns back to look at this friends with a sudden bright smile.
our hands are clenched together as i pull him through a small crowd towards the kitchen. the urge to instantly jump on him to rile matt up is incredibly overwhelming but desperation isn’t always the best look on me.
my hand reaches for a red cup, filled with what looks like classic punch and i pour it down the sink to fill it up with straight vodka and hand it to him. “drink up, buttercup.”
his eyes widen but he obeys and i watch as he drinks every last sip, my fists clenching from the idea of what’s going on directly behind me.
“ngh’ matt-“ i hear the girl moan and my head twists to see his eyes glaring into mine whilst sucking red marks onto her neck.
i scoff and drag my guy closer to me, all whilst maintaining eye contact to lick a stripe up his neck and shove my right hand up his shirt to feel his torso. the guy did have toned abs, i could feel from how rock hard he was against my fingers but unlucky for him, i was completely and utterly distracted by the guy i hated so fucking much opposite me.
hate so pure that the sound of his name made goosebumps run down my neck and my blood bubble under my skin. my eyes would sting from the gaze of his eyes, my eyelids burning from refusing to shut. it was hate so pure that seeing a girl on his arm made my throat run dry and my words choke. the rings on my fingers digging into my palms and my teeth scratching against one another as i clenched my jaw to see the hickies scattered on his chest.
my tongue caresses the skin of his neck, latching over what i think is his sweet spot, as he moves his hands down my body. i smirk as i see matt latch onto the bitch’s figure tighter, desperate to outweigh whatever i was doing.
i look up at the guy and say, “do whatever you want to me, right here, right now.” his eyes light up and his breath halts slightly.
“but we’re in here with so many people-“
“i don’t care.” my head turning back to look at matt who is still looking at me, a grimacing smile speaking across my face which makes his brows furrow deeper into his skin.
the guy grabs my leg to push it onto his, my front up against him and he latches our mouths together, his tongue immediately creating a space between my lips to enter.
after a solid minute of awkwardly making out in front of what felt like 30 people, a hand pushes my leg down from the guys hip and grabs my hand to pull me away from the crowd.
i’d be stupid if i said i didn’t know it was matt, of course i knew it was him. after all, he knew i had full control over him even if we were just enemies.
sweating bodies collided with mine and i squeeze my body close together to avoid elbows to the face. my heels making me stumble a little, alcohol still running through my system.
i look down to find a step up a winding staircase, a classic LA mansion.
20 steps felt like half a lifetime as matt still desperately drags me up them, whispering incoherent, angry remarks under his breath. until finally he makes it to the top and barges through the first bedroom he sees.
i enter quickly after him, my hand falling to my side as he slams the door behind us. i didn’t have time to react before he pushes my shoulder into the wall behind me, digging his nails into my skin.
his eyes are practically black with anger, his eyebrows fallen to his eyelids yet a disgusting grin on his face. his tongue slides along his teeth, before he spits, ” what the fuck do you think you’re playing at?”
“whatever you’re playing, i mean it’s only fair.” i squeak back, my breath a little taken away from the sudden collide with my back and the brick wall. and of course the incredibly small space between our lips and the fact that our noses are touching.
“that’s not how this works around here.”
“then how does it? you get to go around with every girl in our state and i sit in the background watching?” what was that even supposed to mean?
he removes a hand from my shoulder and shakes his head, “people around here know they can’t touch you. they just know that, sweetheart. i assumed you would too.”
“and you’re allowed to have that bitch all over you? tell me, matt. how is this really fucking fair?” his hand comes up to my throat to clench it, light enough so i’m not choking but hard enough so that i’m gagged, my head lifted up a little.
“because how else am i supposed to get you to fucking take notice that i want you.”
i furrow my eyebrows, i try to speak but he clenches harder and the words don’t form in my mouth.
“every girl i have i imagine it’s you, every time i’m fucking a girl i imagine it’s your pussy im in, i imagine it’s your lips that im sucking on.”
i look dead in his eyes, my lashes blurring my vision slightly, his hooded gaze mesmerising me as i take in his every word
“every mean comment i made and every remark you made back riled me up. i knew it, you knew it, everyone else fucking knew it. im fed up of this bullshit circle we’ve had going on- i need you to see that you’re mine. when i saw you and that bitch in the kitchen, i smiled because i knew i got you. i got you to the point where you fucking admitted to me that im in your brain, you want me just as much as i want you baby.”
his tongue pokes out to lick a strip along my lip, he stands back to look at me in such a vulnerable position. my legs squeezed together in my little black dress and his hand wrapped around my neck as i look up at him with teary eyes and a dumb little smile on my face. it was just all he had ever wanted.
his hand leaves my neck, reaching up to grab my jaw and push my lips against his. a messy, tongue-filled kiss. his tongue sucks onto mine and i moan into his mouth, my legs moving forward to push him backwards.
he hums into the kiss, moving his head to suck on my lips whilst treading towards the bed in which he eventually pulls us onto. my legs scramble to straddle his lap and loop my hands around his neck.
he pulls away to pull the straps of my dress down as i look into his eyes, if somebody had told me two years ago that i was straddling matt’s fucking lap i probably would’ve slapped you around the face.
“do you know how long i’ve wanted you baby?” he says, yanking down my black dress to reveal a lacy, practically see-through bra that pushes up my boobs to accentuate them especially for matt’s eyes.
i shake my head, my hands clasping onto the hairs on the nape of his neck.
“too fucking long.” he rips off my bra, my mouth wide from how easily he broke the fabric, a loud groan leaving his mouth as he launches forward to suck my hard, pointed nipples.
my head thrown back as i grind against his jean pants, desperate to relieve the feeling in between my thighs. the tent of his pants brushing roughly against my region making me pull his head closer into my tits.
he pulls away to stare up at me, already looking a little disheveled, as he chuckles slightly, “you’re so fucking needy, who knew a pretty baby with a mouth as big as yours could be so desperate for my cock?”
i whimper at the sound of his patronising voice, my hips moving faster as he speaks but the loss of the soft pad of his tongue of nipples making my eyes water a little.
he grabs my jaw to force me to look at him, his fore finger and his middle finger squeezing together closely as he pushes them towards my lips. “open up, slut.”
i open my mouth for him and he guides his fingers into my mouth and instinctively i suck on them, my eyes slowly fluttering shut and i hum onto them, wishing it was something else.
the tent underneath me twitching even under all this fabric and the hands looped around his neck untie to slowly run down his torso all the way to the zip on his jeans.
“you want it all don’t you baby? you act so tough but really you’re just a whore for me and my dick. it’s not even been five minutes and you’re already scrambling to undo my pants. that’s it baby, let me use all your pretty parts.” i pull them down to reveal his wet boxers and his huge dick.
this man wasn’t just packing a couple inches, it was enough to bruise the back of my throat and my cervix. my eyes light up as i hold it through the cotton of his underwear, drool begging to leave my mouth.
he leans back slowly, his elbows digging into the plush mattress underneath of us as he guides me closer towards his cock, pushing away stray hairs that curl around the frame of my face.
i pull down his boxers for his dick bounce straight up and hit his stomach, pre cum leaking from his bright red, swollen tip. and i hungrily scramble to grab hold of it, his words replaying in my head, i’m just a whore for him.
my hands smooth the veins along the bottom of his dick, slowly making my way up to kiss his oozing tip and i feel his body shudder underneath me. without a second thought, i shove his tip in my mouth and suck his cum off. my mouth hollows and i move my head up and down, determined to get some noise out of his pretty mouth.
“that’s it pretty girl, just like that- mmm” his head is thrown back and his hands come round to cradle my head, pushing me further onto his dick.
i moan which sends vibrations down his cock, his tip growing in my mouth as i swirl my tongue around it, the gagging sounds echoing in the room, riling matt up more and more.
“fucking take it all baby- oh fuck, i know you can” he winces out, the grip on my hair tightening and i smile against the girth of his dick doing exactly what he says, hollowing my mouth and sucking all the way to his bone. his hips shove up to hit the back of my throat and my eyes flutter shut, the full feeling in my throat overwhelming me.
he guides my head by bobbing my head up and down in time with his hip thrusts, the sounds of my gargling getting progressively louder as he becomes more determined to cum down my throat.
a sudden halt to his erotic sounds, i feel my head being pulled up, a ‘pop’ sound coming from my mouth from the sudden loss of his dick in my throat. he laughs, smoothing my cheek with his thumb before gently slapping it and grabbing my chin so i look at him.
“you gonna let me make you feel good?” i frantically nod my head, the heat between my legs practically burning a hole thru my panties now.
“that’s my girl, you’re mine. aren’t you?” i nod and he tuts, “ use your words.”
“i’m yours.” and that’s all he needed before he picks me up like i’m a fucking feather weighing nothing more than a couple pounds and throws me onto the bed whilst he twists around to stand up off the bed, looking down at me.
“you know it, my little slut.” he pulls down my dress finally, he didn’t get to finish underdressing me cause the idea of finally tasting him was too much. but now that i can feel the cold air hitting the most private of places and his glare blazing up and down my body, i feel shy.
my elbows hover over my boobs as i try and scrunch up a little but matt’s hands pry them away and he spreads my legs before discarding my little black dress on the floor, i’m only left with my matching lace panties.
he licks his lips, his glare fixating on the wet patch created on my underwear, just for him. as he holds my thighs apart, he blows gently onto the fabric making it instantly cold and i shift up the bed a little, whimpering.
“this all for me, baby?” he looks up at me, caressing my thighs gently. the cold metal of his rings making my goosebumps more and more apparent.
“mhm.” my eyes flutter shut and i push against the force of matt’s hands, becoming increasingly desperate for any kind of pressure on my pussy. “please.”
“please what?” he smirks, his touch on my thighs now so light you wouldn’t even believe it was there. it was another level of teasing that made the core of your very stomach fuzzy and the lack of any touch adds to the sick feeling you have.
“just do something, anything.” he snaps when i say that, flipping me around quickly so that my body slaps against the mattress, my ass on full show to him, my thing not doing much too cover my the cheeks of my ass.
“i wanna feel the rush, i wanna taste the crush, i wanna get you going.”
the sharp sting of fabric ripping against my delicate skin and sudden gasp mixed with the breaking of sweet lace makes matt chuckle in the background before placing a harsh slap to my ass, sending me into the air as it was so unexpected.
“you gonna be good for me?” he smooths over where he slapped, secretly wishing it will make a bruise.
“yes, yes i’ll be good.” i beg, wanting literally anything.
as his fingers move closer towards my wetness, he suddenly moves away quickly before getting up and searching the room.
i look up and frown, “what the fuck are you doing?” i whisper a little, upset that he looks like he’s about to leave.
he doesn’t say anything but pauses once he gets to the drawer in the closet and laughs before turning around to reveal a belt.
“what are you doing? this isn’t even your room.” i say, relaxing yet still confused.
he walks over to me and forces my chin up at him, “keep speaking in that bratty fucking tone and i will leave you high and dry”
“well you won’t even let me get high so what effect is that gonna have-“ before i could finish my sentence he covers my mouth with one hand and uses the other to turn me around so my head is shoved into the pillows of the bed. he scrambles to grab my hands, pushing them against my back and fiddling with the belt.
“just you fucking wait and see, little angel.” he twists them around my wrists and tightens them so i can’t get out without any help.
his hands letting going of mine before i feel them suddenly exactly where i need them. a singular finger pressing down onto my bundle of nerves and my whole body jumps with just a simple touch, a pornographic moan leaving my mouth.
“does that feel good baby” i whimper back a desperate ‘yes’ and wriggle against the pad of his finger wanting him to move oh, so badly.
“want me to move my hand, darling?” i nod my head frantically hoping he can see me which i gather he can considering the low laugh that leaves his mouth and the sudden movement of his finger dragging down slowly through my folds.
“you want me here?”
“yes, yes. i want you there. i want you to move.”
“you want me to move?”
“please.”
“there it is.” and with that, the gentle movements turned into quick, hard thrusts. his two fingers sliding through my hole at an insane pace, not letting me readjust for one second, making my whole body lift from the bed, my hands shaking in the belt he tied me up in.
the cold metal of his rings mixing with the warm wetness coating his fingers, the sensation was immense. all before he flips me over and presses his mouth onto my clip sending me into fucking sub space.
“oh my fucking god! matt-“
he licks and kisses at my clit at a gentle pace all while his fingers strum in and out of my hole at an alarming speed, it’s a wonder he doesn’t have arm cramp even after one minute.
my ass doesn’t stay on the bed and my whole body is jittering at the sudden overwhelming sensation. the flicks of his tongue and the curving of his fingers making sure he hits my sweet spots makes the bundle in my stomach tighten up.
“please matt, i’m gonna cum!”
he carries on, his feasting at my pussy getting progressively more intense, like a starved man. he enters another finger into my hole, stretching me perfectly so that i am shaped for him.
he breathes against my heat, “let go, baby.”
and with that, i did. sweat running from my back and forehead, my tied hands desperately grabbing onto the leather and my toes clenching over his shoulders.
he licks me clean, pressing one last kiss to my clit which makes me jolt as he laughs a little to himself seeing my messy figure on the bed.
“you did so well, baby.” i smile at him, his head coming close to mine to kiss my lips.
“now you gonna help me out sweetheart?”
i nod and he turns me around to take me out of the tied belts and he kisses the red marks from where i pulled against the restraint. “you liked these?” i shake my head and he laughs.
i pull myself up from the bed and onto matt’s lap to face him, i latch my lips onto his and hook my hands around his neck pulling him closer to me. my naked body fitting perfectly around his warm body.
he moves his hands down my body, caressing my curves and humming against our kiss as i pull away and look down to stroke his dick to which he kisses and pulls himself into my neck.
i move myself up his body to push myself down onto his hard shaft, as he winces and throws his head backwards, moaning my name.
i pull at his hairs and rock my hips against him and watch his demeanour change as his hips desperately rutt against mine and i forcefully push my hands onto his thighs so that he’s restricted.
“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he groans as my grinding against him slows.
“taking control.” his eyes widen and i push myself up further so that i can plunge further onto his dick. my nails digging into his thighs as i watch his breathing get faster and moans leave his mouth.
“that’s not - ngh- how it works.” he argues with me which doesn’t last for long when i start to kiss his neck and suck on the lobes of ears in which his thrusts up into me become more persistent.
“i’m gonna cum-“
“not until i cum.” i say, chasing my high with him as i hear him whine into my ear, panting a little too.
“please, just let me.” he hugs me closer, my boobs crushed against his chest as he begins to rocks back and forth with me, moaning and groaning with his head in the air. so much for tough guy, huh?
“cum with me.” i bounce up and down as he thrusts up into me for the last time before releasing his cum, painting my walls as it oozes out of me as i collapse onto the bed next to us.
our heavy breathing and hearts beating is the only thing that can be heard.
matt’s hand slowly moves to bring me closer to him, i smile as i look up at his tired state.
“you changed quickly, mr tough guy to oh please! please, let me cum! “ he shakes his head and covers my mouth.
“shut up, you wouldn’t fucking let me .”
i laugh at him and he picks me up to squeeze me, so much for being enemies, huh?
“so-“
“you’re mine now right? like for real?” he’s not looking at me, rather picking at his nails.
i giggle and press my head against his forehead and nod, “of course.”
hope you all liked !! too many fucking words :)
tags: @wisteral @evieolo @ev3rgreenxtrees @estelleswrld @recklessmatt @recklesssturniolo @realuvrrr @urfavstromboli @obscurechris @poopydroopt @plasticferal @lilasturns @lovingmattysposts @m4ttslvr @mattandmilds @muwapsturniolo @mattsgirlfriendlol @kirby0strombolli @kvtie2 @kikisturnioloo @kqyslyho3 @klarasmith @sturnioloshacker @strniohoeee @sturniolopepsi @sturniolosstar @sturniolossmut @mattslolita @zooweemamas @chrattenthusiast @chrissgirlsstuff @bernardsbendystraws @ducksturniolo @dsturniolo @deatthmatch @fruitglazed @hearts4sturniolo @hawaiihasmyheart @heartsforchrisandmatt @hoesformatt @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @inlovewchris @ihateeveryone357474 @ilovemattsturn @nicksmainbitch @noellesturniolo @yurtrrrr @mattsgirlfriendlol @mattsfaked
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Bone Deep
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AO3 Link -- MDNI -- TW: emotional hurt/comfort, make up sex
Your husband, John Price, has fallen into a pattern of behavior that seems to be moving him farther and farther away from you. But, you refuse to play second fiddle for long. 
You were drenched. It had been raining in such a way that made you think the Lord had gone back on his promise. Perhaps the rainbow had been painted just to placate you. Perhaps, you thought as you wrung out your hair on the porch, you would be drowned after all. 
It sure felt that way. Work had mounted up to the point of a fever-pitch. You had three projects due and one to revise. Not to mention, your husband had been home and yet almost fully invisible. 
John Price was back on something like leave, but he was never around. You saw evidence of his presence all over your floor and table and furniture. Socks, dirty plates, dead tablets, scraps of paper with Russian names scribbled on them... He was hunting Makarov in your kitchen and your hallway and your bathroom, and he was leaving that trail of breadcrumbs both literally and figuratively all over your house. 
You’d gone to bed alone for two nights in a row, and as you nearly tumbled over a pair of his sneakers in the foyer, caked in wet mud, you decided that it would not be three. 
“John?” You called out.
There was no reply, but a pale blue light shone under his office door. 
You popped open the latch and saw him hunched over the computer screen. 
“John.”
“Hm?” He responded, but he didn’t turn around. 
“John!”
“What?” He roared, spinning in his chair and glowering at you, shaming you for interrupting him.
“Okay,” you nodded, resigned. 
It would be a cold day in hell before you accepted that tone from anyone. You’d gone in there expecting to have a rational conversation, but your husband had raised his voice to you like you’d been a naughty dog. 
And you were absolutely not going to take that sort of treatment.
You made it to your bedroom in a quick three strides, pulling your overnight bag from under the bed. You shot your best friend, Cana, an SOS text. She lived two hours away, but you didn’t mind. You’d drive all night through the rain if it meant getting out of this prison that you used to call a home. 
Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic, but you had boundaries. Clear ones. And he knew he had crossed them. He just didn’t care. 
You started to pack as you fumed, tossing in a few days worth of clothes, your toiletry bag, the essentials. Then, the bedroom door clanged open, its handle slamming into the railing on the wall. 
“What’s this?” John waved a hand over your bag. 
“When I married you, I married a partner, not a ghost. The only reason I know you’re home is because you leave your fucking laundry for me to finish all over my floor. I’m not going to clean up after you like some maid. Then, you raise your tone at me, disrespecting me? No. When you’re ready to be my husband again, you know my number.”
He scoffed,
“All this bloody drama over some dirty socks?”
You stared at him in a way that told him just how serious you were. The silence between you stretched on for eons, expanding in all directions. You smiled, 
“You know it’s not the socks.”
The look in his eyes said: yes, I know it’s not the socks. But, his pride wouldn’t let him say the quiet part out loud. 
So, you left. 
Starting up the car was hard. Backing out of the driveway was harder. But, every mile you drove simply steeled your resolve. You knew his work was important, but you were important, too. You’d always be his wife, but you needed some space. 
You texted your boss when you made it to Cana’s house; you were taking a few days off. A night of tears and comforting hugs (and strong margaritas) passed, then a morning. Then, a night… and in the middle of it, you saw your phone light up. Despite the million other notifications you received every day, you knew it was him.
John: hey
You: hey
John: can i call
You: one sec
You sneaked out of bed, untangling yourself from Cana’s lanky arms, and lugged your phone out to the front porch. You were about to curl up on her big patio chair when you were stopped in your tracks at the sight of a big black truck idling in the driveway.
You sighed, standing there staring at your husband. He killed the engine and stepped down from the cab. As he approached you, looking up at you from the bottom of the stairs like a wide-eyed disciple, you noticed that his blue irises were ringed in pink, bloodshot and puffy. He hadn’t shaven, and he looked pale. 
But, even though you were still hurt, and even though he looked a little worse for wear, it was hard to ignore the carnal ache in your belly when you watched the muscles bulge and flex in his immense forearms as he crossed his arms in front of himself. The way his chest stretched out his black tee shirt, a tuft of fur peeking out of the crew neckline, the sleeves struggling to contain his round biceps. The way he chewed his full bottom lip when he had something important to say. It was enough to test your resolve.  
“Hey,” you said in a small voice, holding your arms around your body for comfort. 
Suddenly, those sharp eyes focused on you with rapt attention, and he stared right at you, speaking in a low, gravelly purr, trying to keep his voice down,
“I’ve been a proper arse.”
You tried to hold back a smirk. He continued,
“I took advantage of you. I’ve been hunting this fuckin’ bastard for so many years, and I’ve got him cornered. It’s all I can think about. Every night I think if only I was a little quicker, or maybe just bloody braver, I could stop him from killing more innocent people. I let him into our house. Into your life. And I shouldn’t have let my work come between us,” John’s expression softened, and he uncrossed his arms, hooking his thumb into his jeans pocket, “And I’m sorry.”
“Thank you,” you said quietly, still waiting for his next step. Being sorry was only part of it. 
“When you come home tomorrow, it’ll be different. I’m gonna pull my weight again. You have my word that I’ll only work when you work, and when you’re home,” he squared his shoulders, rocking his hips forward, nervous energy coursing through his body, “I’ll be home with you. I promise.”
You nodded, shifting your weight, staring down at your feet. Then, he called your attention with a caught breath and words that hurt you bone deep,
“You are coming home, right?”
You tried your honest best to fight the tears, but your body shuddered through a sob and you gasped in a sharp breath of air. He moved to hold you, to ascend the steps and repent, to be forgiven, but you held up your hand stopping him in his tracks,
“I won’t have you speaking to me like that, John. I won’t…” You thought about your words carefully, “I can’t be treated that way.”
“I understand, love. Believe me,” he chuckled, “I never want you to feel like that again.”
The way he rubbed his thumb across his sternum made your own chest hurt. He tried to approach you again, stepping up the wooden stairs, creaking under his weight, and he angled his chin up as if to kiss you. But, you stepped away, guarding your own heart for just a while longer. 
The hunger in his eyes followed you like smoke from a fire, warming you with its heat. 
“I’ll be home in the morning, John,” you said, turning to go back into the house. 
The next morning, as you packed, you thought about his promise. You hoped that you were heard. Truly heard and not just for a week of good behavior. You deserved to be respected, and you wouldn’t let your relationship with him become so one-sided again. 
When you pulled into your driveway, you expected to be greeted with the same dark, empty house. As you moved to pick your feet up over the usual mess of shoes, you discovered the foyer scrubbed to a high shine, and there was nothing to stumble upon. All the shoes were shoved into their little cubbies, and there wasn’t a dirty sock in sight. The living room was bright, clean, and John was standing in the middle of it, waiting for you. He took your bags, and scooped you up into a long, tight hug. 
You thought he might try to kiss you, but he didn’t. He just held you against him, breathing in and out, not letting go. Your face was buried deep in his chest, and you could smell his aftershave mixing with the strong scent of his cigars, and a slight musk that was all him. You wanted to feel his fur against your cheek. 
Suddenly, he grabbed your chin in his hand, making you face him, and he said in a dark, warm tone, 
“I’m gonna be the me that you need me to be. From now on. I swear it.”
You felt his soft lips touch yours, kissing you chastely, then deeper, chasing your taste, finding your tongue, licking along its length, savoring your mouth like a treat, cherishing every suck and nip and bite. 
“I missed you, John,” you admitted, feeling hot tears staining your cheeks, not realizing you were crying. 
He wiped them from your temples, smearing them into your skin, cradling your head in his hands so carefully as if you were made of glass. 
“I’ve been away. But, I swear, love. I swear, I’m back. I swear…”
His lips met your wet cheek and took your tears with them. 
“I swear…” 
He kissed your neck, holding your head in his huge paw.
“I swear…” 
You ran your hands over his neck, encircling him, tugging at his shirt, needing to feel his skin. He hooked his arms over his head and rucked the shirt off his back, tossing it on the couch. He pulled you into his lap as he sat down, sinking into the cushions, kissing you like you might disappear again. 
“I’m so sorry, love. Please forgive me,” John growled darkly, his deep voice rumbling between kisses. 
“Forgiven,” you said, forcing him to look at you.
Then, he put his forehead to yours and let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes and simply rubbing your back, trailing his hands over your hips, pulling you in closer to him. 
Tentatively, as if testing the waters of a deep well, you rocked your hips against him, seeing if you could get him to take the bait. If you had your husband back, you wanted to seal that promise with more than just a kiss. 
He groaned,
“Mm, I don’t deserve that.”
You repeated the motion, feeling the twitch of his fat cock inside of his jeans, and you narrowed your eyes at him,
“Sex isn’t a reward. It’s our connection, and I need to feel you. I need my captain back.”
He smiled, nuzzling your jaw, peppering your skin with little, chirping kisses, 
“Pretty girl… I missed you so much. What was I thinking?”
You shrugged, playing coy as you slipped off your leggings and set to undoing his buttons, opening the fly of his jeans to see the shock of dark hair and the swollen prize nestled in it, 
“I dunno. Maybe you just needed a reminder?”
As you teased him at your entrance, letting his head play in your wet folds, you began to sink down onto his shaft, spearing yourself onto his length, rocking back and forth with a tantalizing rhythm. 
“Mmngh,” he sighed, his eyes staring, transfixed on where your bodies reconnected. 
Finally, after some effort, his girth was fully sheathed within you, warmed and cradled by your soft heat. You began to lift yourself on your knees up and down, dragging all the way to his rosy head and then sliding all the way back down to those brown curls, enjoying the faces he was making against his will. 
However, he didn’t put up with your performance for long. Before you knew it, you were laying on the couch with your knees on your chest, taking every inch of his cock as deep as it would go. He had a gentle curve that, in this position, rubbed exactly where it needed to, pulling you along from one orgasm to the next like you were a kite, fully at his mercy and high as hell. 
Your mind swam with murky, unintelligible thoughts, and he fucked you harder and harder, pounding himself into you like a machine. Sometimes you forgot his strength… and his stamina. 
You whined a bit, your timbre changing from other-worldly pleasure to mild discomfort, and he picked up on it like a hound. He slowed, inspecting you, looking for the broken pieces. 
“You alright, missus?” He said, kissing you, thrusting shallowly now, checking in with you.
“Can we sit?”
“C’mere.”
John pulled you into his lap and continued his efforts, rocking himself back and forth, holding your body like a toy. Then, he snaked his hand between you, giving your clit something firm to rub against, and you felt the tingles begin to build inside of your belly, a coil tightening, a dam under pressure, a firework ready to burst. 
He was facing you, so you began to kiss him in a slow, supple way, letting your mouth fall open and your lips meet his with the lightest touch. John matched your energy, getting lost in your ritual, sending out the tip of his tongue to play and taste you again. 
He pulled away and licked his fingers before returning them to your folds,
“Mmf-fuck. You are so bloody good.”
“I want you to come in me, baby,” you confessed, resting your forehead on his, trying to catch your breath. 
You saw the surprise dance through his expression. 
“You sure?”
You knew it wasn’t something you allowed very often. You’d been off of your birth control for a few months, trying to give your body a break from the hormones. And even though you weren’t trying for a baby, that was always a dream that you shared. For John, it was the ultimate dream. 
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you nodded, kissing his smiling mouth.
“Oh, fuck me,” he growled darkly, gripping you around your waist, changing the angle to something wholly transcendent. How did he do it? How did he know where your body needed him to be? It was absurd. 
Everything was bright and glittering as you came around him, and you felt yourself squeezing his cock mercilessly, coming down his shaft in hot, thick coatings of creamy slick, unable to stop it from flooding out around him. 
He, too, was erupting. He gasped for air, grunting in loud, animalistic shouts, his whole face contorted into a pleasure-filled rage, pumping you full of his soft, warm cream, frothing it with his rough movements. 
Eventually, he flung his head back, holding you to him in a tight hug, his entire body moving and reacting without his input, fully on instinct. You held him back, clutching him against you like a lifeline.
You thought he would slip out of you once he was down from his high, but he didn’t. He simply held you to him, sweaty and desperate, letting himself soften inside of you. It was as if he didn’t want to leave. 
“Thank you, love,” he kissed you again, shuddering yet powerful. 
“It’s nice to have you home, John,” you smiled, letting his soft laughter warm your heart, basking in it like the sun. 
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fingertipsmp3 · 2 months
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Can’t tell if I actually genuinely think this job interview tomorrow is a bad idea, or I’m just trying to convince myself it is because I don’t want to do it
#it’s an online interview so i think cancelling wouldn’t be too much of a dick move because presumably this person is interviewing all day#but i’ve already told people about it so they’ll be like ‘hey how did the interview go :)’ and i don’t want to say i cancelled it#but. look this place gives me bad vibes#the business isn’t even open yet so i’ll be one of the first staff hired and chances are i’ll be hauling stuff all over the place#and helping set up. and that just sounds annoying and difficult#plus i thought it was just retail but i looked it up and they have a bar??? which means they probably saw my bartending & barista experience#and that’s why they want me. these people are not going to let me sit down and uhhhh i have an arthritic knee. i need to sit down#also the employment satisfaction reviews are really terrible#i’m talking like; people mentioning they were getting abuse from customers and still weren’t allowed to ban them#but comparable businesses would absolutely ban those type of customers on the first instance#at this place they just let them stay though and you have to serve them even if they’re clearly abusive and not in their right mind#i also saw that you get asked complex mathematical questions in the interview and listen. my brain is mostly fog right now#every single one of my prescription meds is clashing with one of the others and making me sleep 10 hours a day#and my brain feels like a tired soup even if i have slept 10 hours#(or 9. or 8. or 7. it’s basically a 24/7 thing)#suffice to say i don’t think i’m going to be doing fucking mathematics#also it’s a teams interview and i hate them. although it is kind of nice to not have to take the train for half an hour just to be rejected#OH THAT’S THE OTHER THING. they open at 8:30 and it takes me half an hour to get there#so if they want me in right at opening i still need to get a bus at like 7:50. but more likely it’ll be way earlier than that#soooooo it’s not actually much better than my previous job where i was getting up at 6 to get a train at 7:10 to get to college at 8#to sit around for an hour or more waiting for class to start. 🧐#i know i live out in the back of the back of beyond and i will therefore have some stupid commutes. but come ON#and if i work the closing shift instead there literally isn’t a bus late enough to facilitate that for me. they stop at 8pm. when will i win#i’m just going to send an email cancelling it even though it’s the middle of the night and then i’m going to withdraw my interest on indeed#and then i’m going to bed#and if anyone asks; they made me do maths in the interview so i burst into tears and started eating the drywall#personal
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gojos-thot-patrol · 8 months
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Starring: True from! Sukuna in a cabin in the woods... Synopsis: You don't see the point in it; chasing myths on Halloween night, going deeper into the woods than you ever had before. You'd rather be at home than chasing ghosts. But, your best friend insists on finding evidence of the local urban legends, and surely she won't abandon you the moment you find what shes been hunting, right? Content Warning: Tonight we are serving True form (two dicks) Sukuna, double penetration, tummy bulges, cunnilingus, kidnapping, marking, slight dubcon, and a soft Sukuna if you squint. reader discretion is advised
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“So, remind me again why we’re taking a walk in the woods on Halloween night?” You asked your friend, narrowly avoiding a thorn vine as you pushed past the brush. 
“Because, historically speaking, people tend to see it on Halloween!” She explained, holding up her camera, “It’s our best chance of finding evidence of the spider demon.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her optimism.
“I don’t know if “Historically” is the right word to use there,” you grumbled softly as you continued your walk together. Ever since the two of you had started taking that Folklore Studies class for an extra college credit she had become obsessed with the local urban legend: The Spider Demon. To her credit, it was a genuinely interesting topic. 
As far back as town hall kept records of, there were sightings of the beast: a giant humanoid man that was covered in ancient markings, with four arms, four eyes, and a giant mouth on his abdomen. Rumor has it, he was the one at fault for all the disappearances that plagued your small town, dragging poor, innocent souls into some far off lair and feasting on their flesh. 
The sane people knew the real reason for the disappearances though; most of those kids hopped a train and got the fuck out of that dying town while they still could. You couldn’t say you blamed them. If you didn’t go to school here, one of the cheaper colleges around, you wouldn’t be here either. 
Your thoughts came to a halt as the two of you came up on an old stream. You knew it well as the boundary between where it was acceptable to play in the woods, and where was off limits. Everyone in the town had followed this rule. Your great grandparents had this rule engraved in their soul as kids, just as your parents and grandparents had, just as you had. And just as your kids would one day. No one really knew why you weren’t supposed to cross the water, just that you weren’t.
And your best friend was trying to hop across. “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doin’?!” You yelled as you grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She looked at you as if you had just grown two extra heads.
"I'm crossing the stream?" She asked as if you were the insane one here.
"Yeah, I can see that dipshit!" You snapped, "Why the hell would you do that?!"
"To get to the other side?"
"What are you, a chicken?! You know we're not supposed to cross this stream." Your friend dramatically rolled her eyes, making her annoyance clear.
"The only chicken here is you Y/n." She scoffed. "Come on, it's just water. It can't hurt you." She said in a tone meant to mock assurance. It grinded your bones and made you wonder why you were friends to begin with.
"Don't be like that. Everyone in this town has been told since birth not to cross that stream, there has to be a reason why."
"The reason why is probably so little kids don't drown." She explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. It made you want to rearrange her teeth. "I'm going to cross the stream and keep the hunt going, are you with me or not Y/n?" She asked.
You took a deep breath. You absolutely were not with her. Every fiber in your being was setting off red flags, you could hear your ancestors screaming at you to turn around, somewhere from the great beyond, both Cain and Abel look at you and say "girl, don't do it." 
And yet, you started to jump across the rocks. As annoying as your friend was, she was still your friend, and you couldn't let her go alone. Your ancestors all collectively face palm, your nerves explode, Cain turns to Abel and shakes his head. There's no saving you now. You swore the air temperature dropped by at least three degrees as you made it to the other side of the stream. You cursed softly as you wrapped your jacket tighter around you, and rushed to catch up with your friend.
“See? We crossed the water and we didn’t explode! Some rules are just made to be broken.” She seemed confident in that, but you still weren’t. Something was so…off. Wrong. But you couldn’t figure out what. The moon was still as full as ever, lighting your way as the two of you walked. Your friend seemed fine, as chatty as hell even. And you were physically okay. Leaves crunched under your shoes, and the crickets chirped-
Wait. No they didn’t. “Hey, shush.” You demanded of your friend.
“What!? Why should I-”
“I said Shut. Up.” You snapped, an unfamiliar edge to your voice taking even you by surprise. She shut up, and you struggled to listen to the sounds of the forest. Except, there were no sounds of the forest. No crickets singing, no owls hooting, not even the rustle of a field mouse in the grass. The woods were completely silent, filled with nothing but the sound of your breathing. 
“Do you hear that?” You asked your friend.
“I don’t hear anything.” She scoffed.
“Exactly. We need to turn back.”
“What?! No way!” She protested with a stomp of her foot. You were really starting to think that Darwinism would not look kindly upon your friend.
“The woods are completely quiet.” You pointed out, “That doesn’t happen unless it has a reason to be quiet. We’re not welcome here.” You tried to argue. You would have been better off arguing with the moon itself. Your friend just shook her head as she continued to walk.
“The woods are always quiet Y/n, its what makes it so peaceful, or whatever.”
“But not this quiet!” You pleaded as you chased after her, still not willing to let her die out here alone. “Dude, please, we need to go-!”
“Ooo, whats that!” Your “best friend” quickly changed the topic as she pointed out a building off in the distance, running off to check it out. You felt your stomach fall to the floor. Who would build anything out here? You ran to follow her, deciding to just drag her back home if you had to. 
“Its a house!” She pointed out with a laugh as the two of you reached the edge of a lawn, “And they even decorated for Halloween, how sweet.” You looked at the house, an old wooden cabin that looked like something a pilgrim would have built back in the 1700s. You were shocked to see lights glowing in the window, indicating the building had electricity. That wasn’t what unnerved you the most though.
That would be the bones littering the yard. Animal and human alike, some looking older than others. All strewn about as if thrown there without any care, or sense of design. They looked more like discarded trash than they did decor, and a morbid part of your brain forced you to ask; do those maybe look a little too real to be made of plastic? You blood felt colder than ice as your throat contracted, an unseen anaconda choking you as your knees threatened to give out.
This place was cursed. “You should go knock.” Your friend smirked.
“I would rather die.” You whispered.
“I’m serious!” She laughed, “Go trick or treating! You’d probably be the first one to do so here.” 
“No way, this isn’t right. Why would they “decorate” for Halloween all the way out here? Why are they out here to begin with? It doesn’t make sense, we need to go.”
“Well, I’m not leaving until you go knock on the door.” Your friend shrugged as if she wasn’t signing your death certificate. “These kind people deserve trick or treaters, and I deserve to take a picture of you scared shitless as you knock on the door.” She laughed.
“That’s not funny!” You snapped, your patience growing thinner as your anxiety grew.
“Oh come on Y/n! Don’t be such a bitch, just go knock on the door and then we can go, okay? I promise.”
“...Swear?” You asked softly, at this point willing to do whatever it took to leave these woods and go home.
“Swear.” Your best friend smiled, locking her pinky with yours. Her smile as angelic, enough to trick you into a facade of ease. You took a deep breath as you approached the door, carefully avoiding the skeletons as you walked. Did they looked chewed on? You didn’t want to think too hard about it. You could feel your heart in your throat, the false courage of your friends pinky promise fleeing faster and faster with every step you took closer to this house. It radiated death.
Climbing the creaky stairs was harder than you anticipated, your jittering joints protesting the very act. You reached a trembling fist to the splintering wooden door, knocking as soft as possible. “H-Hello?” You called out, hating the way your voice quivered, “Trick or Treat!” Your entire body tried to collapse in on itself, the only thing keeping you from doing so was the primal instinct to maintain your ability to run should you so need.
You waited a few seconds, then let out a shaking breath as no one came to the door. As you turned back to your friend, you were blinded by the flash of a camera, freezing you in your place. The sounds of her cackle filled you with rage. You really needed you friends. 
You rolled your eyes. “There I knocked. Are you happy? Can we please go home no-” your words died in your throat as you heard the door open.
“Trick.” a rough deep voice said, deeply unfamiliar to you. You watched your friends face contort into fear and her jaw unhinged itself into a scream as she scrambled to get away. Though, you weren’t able to hear her panic, the ringing in your ears becoming deafening as you felt your feet fall from underneath you, a python of an arm squeezing your stomach as you were lifted into the air, and into the house. 
You tried to grab the door frame as you were dragged into hell, becoming aware of your own screaming ripping through your throat as the frame was ripped from your fingers and the door shut in your face.
“Quite mortal.” The voice said again, and you almost instantly shut up. Something primal in your DNA sequencing knowing better than to piss off this devil. The monster turned you over in his hands, turning you to face him. Your soul left your body. You took in the visage of the beast, your panicking brain struggling to process what was in front of you.
 A giant humanoid man, with four arms, four eyes, and a face and chest full of ancient markings. He was holding you too close to properly see it, not to mention the fact that he was wearing a regal robe, but you would bet an unreasonable amount of money he had a sickening smile on his belly. You were in The Spider Demons claws.
And worst of all, he was kinda cute? Like, maybe it was the unshakeable sense of death that rattled your soul and turned your brain into mush, but if he was like- a normal guy with a normal amount of arms and eyes, you would have been smitten! You were kinda smitten now, even if you didn’t want to admit that. God you…really really hoped this whole experience wasn’t awakening something in you. This would be something to unpack in therapy later- if you survived this.
The demon took your chin in a free hand, turning your head as he examined you. You smelled divine. If you had been a sacrifice for him, he would have given whoever picked you out an A++ for finding you, and a bit more leniency for a while. But, he knew you weren’t a sacrifice. The townsfolk had declared him their enemy long ago, and had been facing the consequences ever since. So, that begged the question.
“Tell me, whats a pretty thing like you doing at my doorstep on the most haunted night of the year?” He asked, turning your head to look him in the eye. 
“Wishing you were a myth.” You went with the first thing that came to your head and instantly regretted it. That might have been a little too honest for this situation. But, at least he seemed to find humor in it, snickering at your quip.
“Keep wishing then human, I’m all too real.” He chuckled darkly. 
“Yeah, I-I see that…Are you going to kill me?” Your voice was shakier than you intended as you asked. You hated it, but the anticipation of what he was going to do was more painful that anything he could have actually done.
“I haven’t decided yet.” He mused as he continued his examination of you. He smiled cruelly as he felt your pulse quicken under his hands. He could smell your fear, and it was intoxicating. Your eyes, blown wide with fear, were stirring something deep down inside of him, and making you far more interesting than any other human he had come across in years.
Or, maybe it had just been a while since he had anyone to fuck. Granted, he had stolen plenty of mortals from your small town, but most of the time they died in the process. Corpses held no interest to him for anything other than food. But you? You were alive and warm, and vulnerable in his claws. That fact alone made the notion of keeping you alive for a little longer far more enticing than killing you just yet. 
“Um, anything I could do to help you make that decision?” You asked softly.
“The decision to kill you?” he questioned
“Well, the decision not too!” You quickly clarified, “Dying sounds kinda, well, not fun  and with you being like, a real thing that kinda makes me question well everything as far as mythology goes and that makes dying really fucking scary and-”
“You’re rambling mortal.” He sneered in annoyance.
“Right! My bad I just- please don’t kill me. I’ll do anything not to die.” You begged, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as you grappled with being forced to face the unknown. You had the beasts attention though, an eyebrow raising at your offer.
“Anything?” He purred, his eyes falling to the swell of your chest and making you greatly regret your word choice. “Anything at all?”
“Anything.” You whispered softly. You reasoned with yourself that this was for your life and definitely not because the thought of getting railed by a blood thirsty demon made you squish your thighs together in anticipation. You for sure didn’t feel a rush of arousal as the thought of something meant to kill you making you cum instead crossed your mind. That didn’t happen, no way, not at all. You weren’t wondering if his dick was as monstrous as he was, or if his markings graced it as well.
“Alright then Human, deal.” He grinned wickedly as he brushed a stray hair behind your ear. “I’ll let you live, if you give your body to me first.” You felt your face burn at his proposal. Something felt fundamentally wrong about spreading your legs for a demon. You weren’t religious or anything, but that had to be some sort of sin. But, if it was for your life, surely you could indulge- I MEAN- endure. 
“Before I agree, we’re not talking about possession, right?” You had to clarify. He smirked at your words. You were cleaver to ask, it showed a familiarity with the supernatural. Maybe you weren’t as foolish as you first seemed after all.
“Smart girl. But no, we’re not talking about possession.” He confirmed. 
“Okay, cool, just checking.” You chuckled nervously. “You got yourself a deal.” His smirk turned into a dark grin as his free hands rushed to your clothes. You panicked, knowing he was going to rip them off and you’d be forced to walk back in the nude. That would have been mortifying.
“Wait wait wait!” You yelped, holding up your arms to stop his hands. 
“What?” He growled, annoyance flooding his tone.
“Let me undress myself.” You requested, “Please? I’ll make it worth your while.” He seemed intrigued and amused, setting you on the ground with an almost unnerving gentleness. 
“Will you now? Lets see.” He hummed. You nodded, taking a few steps back. You took a deep breath and shrugged your jacket off your shoulders. You had never been particularly good at being sexy, at least not in your opinion. But, The monsters eyes could have convinced you otherwise. The way he watched you undress, as if he was a starving man looking at a thanksgiving feast, or a hungry demon looking at his next meal. It gave you the confidence to put on a proper show, teasing him as you slowly shed your clothes.
“I’m Y/n by the way,” You said as your hands reached to unhook your bra, “You got a name, or is it just spider demon?” He huffed humorlessly at your quip. He never liked that title. 
“Ryomen Sukuna,” He said, his eyes setting fire to your skin as you finally dropped your bra for him, “you can call me Sukuna.” 
“Noted.” You nodded as you dropped your panties. His lustful grin showed off his incredibly sharp fangs as he dropped his own robe, the only thing covering him. You confirmed the mouth theory, seeing it spread and hungrily panting across his toned abs. Your breath hitched when you saw when he was working with. 
His dick- or rather, dicks- looked human enough despite the markings, but they were longer and thicker than anything you had taken before. And again, there were two of them. They stood hard and proud against his stomach, twitching to be inside you. You didn’t know if the buzzing in your hands and legs was from regret, or excitement.
You didn’t have time to figure it out either before you were taken back into the demons arms, this time with less violence and more neediness. He pressed you to his stomach, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist and leaving you open to him.
“You’re pretty brave for a human, you know that?” He complimented as a large tongue lolled out of his stomach mouth and against your soaking core. He chuckled darkly as the muscle shoved itself into your weeping cunt, making you gasp at the sudden stretch, “And such a slut too.”
“Hey, this was your idea, not mine.” You reminded him though breathy moans, trying to ground yourself as your hips bucked against his giant mouth. Every movement of the tongue felt like being touch for the first time, a ripple of pleasure coursing though your stomach and legs, and making you wonder there was something supernatural going on to make a demonic act feel so heavenly.
“True,” He agreed, “But you’re the one that's gushing for a monster when I’ve hardly touched you.” he reminded you, watching the way your face contorted with pleasure as you dropped the act of innocence. He didn’t know what was more arousing to him, watching your resolve dissolve, or just how sweet you tasted as you desperately you rode his tongue. “I was going to kill you just a few moments ago, you know that right?” He growled into you ear.
“Yeah, but you’re fucking me instead. Sounds like a win to me.” You grinned and he laughed at your sudden audacity. He knew he liked you.
“You really are a whore, Aren’t you?” He teased as his tongue slipped out of your cunt and into your ass instead, watching the way your breasts bounced as you flinched and moaned at the sudden intrusion. 
“Not a whore if it’s for my life.” You whined, digging your nails into his shoulders. You were starting to feel light headed from the pleasure pooling in your stomach, your cunt clenching around nothing, pissed off from the loss.
“Whatever you have to tell yourself.” He chuckled as his face fell to the crook of your neck, taking in your intoxicating smell. He could feel his dicks twitch with need as he kissed you there, fighting every instinct in his body to keep from digging his teeth into the thin skin. He tasted your sweet slick as it dripped from your cunt and onto the middle of his tongue, and finally he withdrew the muscle. 
You whined as he did, head dropping to his chest, both holes now clenching around nothing. “No, fuck-” You whimpered, only for him curl a clawed finger under your chin and lift your head to face him. “Sukuna..” You whimpered as you looked into his fire red eyes, darkened by lust. His lips crashed into yours, capturing you in a heated kiss. You sighed against his mouth, hands rising to tangle into his soft pink hair as his tongue tangled with yours.
You screamed into his mouth as you felt him shove both of his cocks into you at once, one for each hole. He growled, biting down on your lip as you clenched around him. “Sukuna!” You gasped as you pulled back from the kiss, your body trying hard to push out the sudden intrusion.
“Relax for me Darling,” He groaned softly, the pet name slipping out without his permission. He pressed his forehead to yours as he rubbed your stomach, trying to ease your pain.
“I-I can’t. Too big..” You panted, trying desperately to release the tension in your shoulders. The stretch was searing you from the inside out. You felt overwhelmed, the pleasure in the pain feeling like static shocks. “It’s soo much..”
“You can handle it,” He assured you, extremely (perhaps overly) confident in your ability considering you had met less than an hour ago. You shook your head, tears slipping from your eyes. He lapped them up from your face, then captured your lips in a much softer kiss this time. Slowly, your body came to accept his, the tension melting away as his tongue tangled with yours and he eased his way further into you. The burn faded, leaving just the pleasure there, pulsating through you as he pushed deeper. 
He groaned into your lips as he bottomed out into you, stilling both to give you time to adjust and so he didn’t immediately cum in you like a fucking virgin. It was almost embarrassing how good you felt around him, taking him better than any other being had before. You clenched and fluttered around him in a sinful way, bringing him closer to his climax than he would like to admit.
“Told you.” He smirked as he pulled away from the kiss, licking at the string of saliva that connected the two of you. You whined as you looked down to where the two of you were connected, watching a bulge in your stomach appear and disappear with every thrust of his hips. It should have hurt, but no- quite the opposite.
 Every thrust of his hips electrified you with pleasure, sending wave after wave of intoxicating bliss through your nervous system. You had never felt so full before, so complete. You could feel his cocks rub against each other, against your walls inside of you, a dizzying sensation that you had never experienced before. Your hips bucked against him greedily as he fucked you, chasing your high.
“Look at me Y/n,” He demanded, pulling your head up so your eyes connected with his again, “I want you know the demon making you feel so good.” 
“Ryomen-” You whined, forgetting in your sea of lust that wasn’t the name he told you to use. His eyes widened a bit from shock. Mostly because he wasn’t filled with rage by your insolence, but instead a surge of lust from hearing his name fall from your lips. It really had been awhile, he was feeling himself getting attached far too easily. If he knew what was good for him, he would have finished and disposed of you as quickly as possible. He wasn’t interested in what was good for him.
“Say it again.” He demanded, a hand slipping in between you to rub circles into your clit. 
“Ryomen..” You whined, staring at him with fucked out, lust clouded eyes as you trembled in his arms, thighs clenching around his abdomen as the ecstasy crashed through your core and through out your body. You felt your muscles ripple and tense in anticipation. 
“Again,” He growled, pulling you closer to him, and dropping his forehead down to yours. “Who does this cunt belong to?”
“Ryomen..” Your brain was too clouded to make out the rest of his command, your body buzzing and bliss building up inside of you. He picked up his pace, chasing his own high and making you scream out his name in a truly embarrassing and needy moan. 
You clung onto his shoulders and neck, digging your nails into the soft skin there as the euphoria in your veins finally boiled over and hit the fire inside of your stomach, igniting it in an explosion of ecstasy and lust. Your vision exploded with stars and your brain officially clocked out of work as you melted into a puddle. Your legs shaking around him as you leaned against his strong body, unable to keep yourself up any longer.
Your velvety walls quivered around him and sucked him in impossibly deeper, needy and lustful for him. It drove him mad. He watched as your face scrunched in pleasure, your body reacting to him greedily as you melted into the pleasure he he was gracing you with. 
It send him over the edge watching you cum for him, feeling you cum over him, feeling you gush around him. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer, holding you in a grip tight enough to bruise. His fangs buried themselves into your neck, marking you as his and his alone as he came deep inside of you, the warm strings gushing in you and filling you to the point of spilling over.
He held you close to him, head hung back as you both tried to catch your breath. Your mind was starting to clear the fog out, looking up to ask him to put you down before you felt him move inside you again. Your breath hitched as you realized he didn’t even get a little soft. You looked at him with almost horrified eyes as he bucked into you, only acting to encourage him. He looked back at you with lustful and wicked eyes, nipping at your lip as he set his pace and grinned.
“Whats wrong Darling?” He asked, the pet name now fully intentional in its use, “You didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?” 
🎃🎃🎃
You were warm when you woke up, despite still being in the nude. Probably because of the huge body pressed against yours, radiating heat and holding you close as he slept. Visions of last night ran though your head, making you almost painfully aware of the cum still dripping from between your thighs, and sending another wave of arousal through you. When did you pass out? When did Ryomen?
You stayed still for a few seconds, listing to your bedfellows steady breathing. The bed, despite being made from feathers and thin quilting, was surprisingly soft, and the late afternoon sun filled the old home with a warm hazy light. You realized you couldn’t stay here any longer. You couldn’t get attached to an urban legend. 
You slipped out of his arms, freezing as he groaned and only breathing again once he was softly snoring. You sighed as you slipped out of the bedroom and found your clothes again. You quickly got dressed, and went to open the front door. It didn’t budge. Your eyes furrowed in confusion as you pulled the knob again. What the hell? You pulled with all your might, almost screaming with frustration as the door didn’t even move a centimeter. 
“Don’t bother with that Dove.” You gasped as you heard Ryomens voice behind you, a wave of dread blanketing you as you spun to face him. He was leaning casually against the door frame of the bedroom, a content smile painted on his face. “It has my seal on it. I’m the only one that can open that door.”
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