Tumgik
#(it consumed so much of his time and energy……..)
sugoi-writes · 22 hours
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Scream Machine! Readers... here's some lightly-explicit juice to hold you over. 🥴💦
Keep in mind I'm still editing and some of this may or may not end up in the final version.
Alastor crawls over you, having to stoop so you weren't eye-level with his sternum," Keep in mind... I am not usually one to-- well--" You pick up on a flush crawling over the bridge of his nose, his eye twitching," I dont like being disrobed. And I especially dont like others to see me like that, either... but I still intend to give you every once of pleasure I can outside of it. For now."
You eyebrows raise as you nod," That's fair, that's understandable... you haven't seen me naked either.... yet." You move your hands to the straps of your dress, pausing before you move your hands lower," If you'd like to see, that is...?"
Alastor's eyes seem lost for a moment, a familiar haze crossing his features before he refocuses on your patient hands," I would like to see, if you'll have me."
You nod, your heart swelling at the stark parallel between earlier and now. His actions in alley were not unwelcome, but you almost felt more excited by his nervous, reserved energy. You start to remove your dress, Alastor assisting with slow, exploring hands. He relished the little noises you made when he caresses a spot you like, or shifts the fabric below your perk nipples.
You didn't mind that Alastor was hesitant about disrobing himself, and even with how suddenly your passions ignited... You've had a dreamt about this demon numerous times. Your confidence in presenting yourself to him was built up over a startling amount of sleepless nights, and evenings filled with desperate sighs of frustration.
Alastor discarded your dress with a flick of the wrist, eyes settling on your body with gleaming eyes. The energy he had wasn't to consume you, and it wasn't animalistic... it was warm, curious; filled with an almost innocent adoration.
There was so much to take in about your form, and so many things to appreciate with his eyes and hands... he couldn't tell where he should touch first. He wasn't sure what you preferred, and suddenly, he felt his body lock up, unable to perform. You chuckle as your hand comes up to his face, forcing him to look your way. You picked up on the anxiety almost instantly, making Alastor feel more self conscious. Was his guard THAT low???
"We don't have to do this, you know. If it's too soon, I don't mind waiting, sir." Alastor leaned into the touch, smiling and turning to kiss your warm palm. How forgiving and patient you were... he almost felt unworthy of it.
"Forgive me, I do want this. 'Just... lost in the possibilities." You look up to him with an honesty that has his heart clenching, and a heat starting to bubble in his core. He saw that bravado, that confidence take over: it served as a stark contrast to his eyes, which reveal the truest form of himself.
A deer in the headlights.
"I can show you what I'd like you to do to me, if that helps."
Alastor's eyes practically flutter as your hand teases along your hips, landing just below your collarbones. His ears twitch forward as you let out a pleased sigh, his chest expanding as he took a larger breath. His exhale shook with temptation.
Alastor straddles your hips and moves his hands underneath yours, allowing you to grab his wrists. Just this once, he would allow you the honor of taking the initiative.
" Then lead the way, darling."
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btsvt-bar · 16 hours
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I think hoshin is a reassuring boyfriend, he will remind you that he is safe when you are with him, but he will also consume you, it can hurt you, but his mouth does a very good job, I feel like there will be a lot of hickey, a possessor
What do you think about it?? ❤️‍🔥
i’m sure he’s the best person to comfort you when you need it! and he would take care of you in every way possible 😵‍💫
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・
you had a tough day at work, hoshi can see it in your face the second you walk through the door.
he hugs you immediately and leads you to the couch. you sit down with him basically glued to you.
"what happened, honey?" he asks softly while rubbing your back. his musky scent helps you to calm down a bit.
you sniff, holding back tears that threaten to fall.
"you can tell me, sweetheart." hoshi smiles reassuringly. "let it all out, you’ll feel better."
and he proceeds to listen to you vent out about your annoying coworker and the shitty situation that happened. you cry a little, still feeling overwhelmed, and he hugs you tightly while you wet his shoulder with tears.
"i’m sorry for this." you apologize when you notice the wet patch on his tshirt. "thank you for being here."
"shhh don’t worry. i’m always here for you, you don’t have to apologize. you can count on me." he keeps reassuring you, and you wonder how you got so lucky to find a man like him.
you wipe the last few tears and pull him in for a loving kiss. "thank you, baby. i love you so much."
hoshi sighs happily when your lips meet, feeling his heart burst with joy and warmth. "i love you too, beautiful."
"how about we take a nice bath and you tell me about your day?" you offer, standing up and reaching out for his hand.
"i’d love that!"
so you go to your shared room and you run the bath while hoshi grabs two beers and a bottle of soju. you change into sad excuse for a bikini and wait for hoshi to come in.
for a while, you’re just chatting and laughing about nothing. but then hoshi gets hyper aware of your nakedness and it turns his brain into a puddle of desire.
he reaches out and pulls you onto his lap. you notice the lust in his eyes, so you easily give him permission to proceed. you kiss again, but this time it’s different. it’s hungry and full of energy.
hoshi’s hands go for your bikini straps, pulling them to free you from the small piece of clothing. then, he caresses your back while kissing your neck with passion. you feel him giving you a couple of love bites, but you can’t bring yourself to care. not when your hips are grinding deliciously against his, your nipples rubbing against his chest and his plush lips brushing against all the right spots.
"let’s go to bed, we need more space." you two hurriedly dry off, while sharing more kisses, and get completely naked.
hoshi’s already hard and your mouth waters at the sight of his cock. before reaching the bed, you suck him off.
hoshi leans against the sink cabinet and throws his head back in pleasure. you suck his red tip, enjoying his whimpering and moaning. he gently places his hand of the back of your head, conducting your movements.
one of your hands grabs his thigh for support and the other plays with his balls, which makes his cock twitch in your mouth. when he’s too close to cumming, he pulls away.
"i’m supposed to cheer you up, not the other way around." he pouts a little, managing to look cute even with a hard cock and swollen lips.
"this is cheering me up." you chuckle and spread your legs for him.
hoshi gets on top of you promptly. his fingers rub your wetness skillfully, making you arch into his touch, asking for more.
he slides two fingers in, and rubs your inner walls in perfect pace. you let out soft gasps that spur him on, hoshi loves to hear you coming undone.
putting his mouth to good use, he circles your nipples with his tongue. his palm heel brushes against your clit, and the added pleasure burns your insides. your breath hitches, the stimulation getting too intense. hoshi keeps going until you cum, and helps you get through it all.
he sucks more bruises on your boobs, feeling addicted to marking you as his own.
"my pretty baby." he gives you another hickey. "mine, just mine." another one. "you look so hot right now, letting me mark you up, so everyone knows you’re taken." one more.
hoshi aligns himself and slowly sinks into your heat. you both moan in pleasure.
you scratch down his back with your long nails. if he’s going to give you hickeys, he’s getting scratches.
you feel yourselves getting higher and higher, your bodies catching fire in sync. your toes are just on the edge, ready to fall over.
hoshi picks up the pace, trying to get you both off. his tempo makes your eyes roll back and you unconsciously bite his shoulder. hoshi’s face is buried in your neck, his low grunts reaching your ears deliciously.
it���s when you start to clench your walls around him that hoshi is pushed over the edge and he brings you with him.
your skin prickles and your legs shake. you’re totally spent, the low buzzing sound in your ears giving away the rush of dopamine that’s coursing through your body.
"you ok?" hoshi asks after a few minutes. you agree with your head. He laughs "you don’t look ok."
"i’m feeling perfect." you smile lazily.
hoshi’s eyes scan your body, your new hickeys blooming more each passing second. "i think you still need a few more love bites on your thighs." He fishes for an approval for round 2.
you have no idea how messed up you look, but whatever. a turtle neck or a scarf can do the trick of covering you up.
"i’m not arguing with a guy with pretty brown eyes. like, whatever you say, handsome." you flirt while looking at him.
hoshi flashes you the filthiest smile you’ve ever seen before going down on you.
you’re in for a long, long night.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・
© btsvt-bar, 2024
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cozzzynook · 2 days
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Rodimus passing out.
Rodimus will pass out from not getting enough fuel or chronic burn out.
He grew up on Nyon where fuel was scarce and hard to come by and if a bot did come by it it wasn’t a lot nor was it healthy or tasted good.
He has a problem with remembering to fuel or fueling enough and when he does fuel its not nearly enough since his fuel tank is permanently shrunk from how little he consumed growing up.
Speedsters go through lots of energy which means they need either a lot of recharge or a lot of fuel. Since Roddy can’t/doesn’t intake a lot of fuel he needs as much recharge as he can get.
Problem is he doesn’t become he has bad recharge fluxes and never feels comfortable enough to recharge.
Drift has Ratchet to help feel at ease for a full nights recharge or multiple smaller recharges and sure Rodimus will recharge with Drift when the mech asks or simply falls asleep on him or next to him but Rodimus doesn’t recharge much on his own which is taxing to his frame and health.
Which is why he passes out quite a bit.
He can usually time it so its on his berth or in his office.
But eventually it happens at random near Megatron and Magnus who are about to call Ratchet only to hear Rodimus’s engine giving a tired rumble and they realize he isn’t recharging the way his frame needs.
Of course they can’t have their captain not recharging properly, sooo, now the crew has to get used to Megatron or Magnus with Rodimus in their lap asleep.
Its completely professional to check on him every few kliks and to hold him the way they do. Its completely work appropriate to lift his chin with their index and thumb digit to tilt his head up to see how tired he is when they walk into a room.
And it’s completely for the benefit of the crew when the two have Rodimus sleep in their berth to make sure he doesn’t have too bad a recharge flux and can sleep through the night.
Its not at all inappropriate to gaze lovingly at your captain when you think its just yourself and partner alone with no one else watching you as you kiss his helm and rub his spoiler.
Its for recharge purposes.
Its for Rodimus’s health so he doesn’t pass out, that’s the only reason, obviously.
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moeblob · 1 month
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She can transform into a dragon and then falls in love with a man on a mission to slay all the dragons he finds. Who then begins to travel with her brother and his friend and keeps hearing about how "my sister could kick your ass" and he tries to keep his sister away from the dragon slayer because that's a risk he won't take.
Then the sister ends up marrying the dragon slayer.
The end.
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iwantabatlleaxe · 2 years
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I get the Mitski hype now holy shit
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ambrosiagourmet · 1 month
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I've seen pieces from this extra comic before, but never read the full thing until today. And holy shit does it hammer home just how much the story is about class.
Multiple times, when food comes up in this comic, it’s also in context of money:
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I've seen this last panel on the right brought up before in context of like, dungeon meshi's relationship with fat and eating, but in the full context of the comic it really hits how much adventuring directly consumes bodies for money.
As much as this has been part of the story the whole time, showcased as early chapters 19 and 20...
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It never fully hit me before how often adventuring comes down to having no other way to make money but to throw yourself into death repeatedly. To be used, whether it’s by individual selfish people (like the resurrection group that is happy to try and get Kabru's group to kill each other to get extra gold from them in chapter 32), or by the greater cog of the Dungeon Economy in general.
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Which, to be clear, is all too often how things work in the real world, too. So many jobs burn through the health and lives of workers. Dungeon Meshi just makes it literal in a new way: by making the healing and resurrection, a core part to the adventuring loop, directly use fat, muscle, and energy from the body being healed.
Imagine Amazon, but if you got injured at work, they could literally burn up some of your body to get you back to working sooner. And that was seen as an advantage of the job.
And then you have Laios, thinking about eating monsters:
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Not just because he likes monsters a lot. But because it would help. He says something similar in the actual manga too, during the chapter discussing his dream with the Winged Lion
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Laios wants to be able to make a home for Falin. He wants to give her a place where she never has to eat alone. And when he gets a party, he wants to give them a way to eat well. And when he runs a country, well…
He wants to ensure that everyone has enough to eat.
Food is political. Food ties into class, and money. What is deemed "proper" to eat, what is a luxury, what is crass… so much of it comes down to money.
Being judged for eating what's available, when what is “proper” isn't affordable, is already a thing that happens. People forced into work that consumes their energy is already a thing that happens.
Dungeon Meshi has a lot of fantastical elements, but boy is its examination of food and class very real.
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reasonsforhope · 4 months
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Ancient redwoods recover from fire by sprouting 1000-year-old buds
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Article | Paywall free
When lightning ignited fires around California’s Big Basin Redwoods State Park north of Santa Cruz in August 2020, the blaze spread quickly. Redwoods naturally resist burning, but this time flames shot through the canopies of 100-meter-tall trees, incinerating the needles. “It was shocking,” says Drew Peltier, a tree ecophysiologist at Northern Arizona University. “It really seemed like most of the trees were going to die.”
Yet many of them lived. In a paper published yesterday in Nature Plants, Peltier and his colleagues help explain why: The charred survivors, despite being defoliated [aka losing all their needles], mobilized long-held energy reserves—sugars that had been made from sunlight decades earlier—and poured them into buds that had been lying dormant under the bark for centuries.
“This is one of those papers that challenges our previous knowledge on tree growth,” says Adrian Rocha, an ecosystem ecologist at the University of Notre Dame. “It is amazing to learn that carbon taken up decades ago can be used to sustain its growth into the future.” The findings suggest redwoods have the tools to cope with catastrophic fires driven by climate change, Rocha says. Still, it’s unclear whether the trees could withstand the regular infernos that might occur under a warmer climate regime.
Mild fires strike coastal redwood forests about every decade. The giant trees resist burning thanks to the bark, up to about 30 centimeters thick at the base, which contains tannic acids that retard flames. Their branches and needles are normally beyond the reach of flames that consume vegetation on the ground. But the fire in 2020 was so intense that even the uppermost branches of many trees burned and their ability to photosynthesize went up in smoke along with their pine needles.
Trees photosynthesize to create sugars and other carbohydrates, which provide the energy they need to grow and repair tissue. Trees do store some of this energy, which they can call on during a drought or after a fire. Still, scientists weren’t sure these reserves would prove enough for the burned trees of Big Basin.
Visiting the forest a few months after the fire, Peltier and his colleagues found fresh growth emerging from blackened trunks. They knew that shorter lived trees can store sugars for several years. Because redwoods can live for more than 2000 years, the researchers wondered whether the trees were drawing on much older energy reserves to grow the sprouts.
Average age is only part of the story. The mix of carbohydrates also contained some carbon that was much older. The way trees store their sugar is like refueling a car, Peltier says. Most of the gasoline was added recently, but the tank never runs completely dry and so a few molecules from the very first fill-up remain. Based on the age and mass of the trees and their normal rate of photosynthesis, Peltier calculated that the redwoods were calling on carbohydrates photosynthesized nearly 6 decades ago—several hundred kilograms’ worth—to help the sprouts grow. “They allow these trees to be really fire-resilient because they have this big pool of old reserves to draw on,” Peltier says.
It's not just the energy reserves that are old. The sprouts were emerging from buds that began forming centuries ago. Redwoods and other tree species create budlike tissue that remains under the bark. Scientists can trace the paths of these buds, like a worm burrowing outward. In samples taken from a large redwood that had fallen after the fire, Peltier and colleagues found that many of the buds, some of which had sprouted, extended back as much as 1000 years. “That was really surprising for me,” Peltier says. “As far as I know, these are the oldest ones that have been documented.”
... “The fact that the reserves used are so old indicates that they took a long time to build up,” says Susan Trumbore, a radiocarbon expert at the Max Planck Institute for Biogeochemistry. “Redwoods are majestic organisms. One cannot help rooting for those resprouts to keep them alive in decades to come.”
-via Science, December 1, 2023
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fake-bleach · 11 months
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all mine | miguel o'hara x reader
summary: You have an unspoken rule with Miguel O’Hara. He takes care of you, he provides for you, and in return, you let him take what he wants.
word count: 2.2k
warnings/disclaimers: (18+ only!) fem!afab!reader (no use of y/n), literally porn no plot, unprotected piv sex, implications of free use but also not rly, slight choking, dirty talk, roughish sex, no foreplay (straighttt to it), use of pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart, girl, etc), coming inside, i think that's it lolll, !no atsv spoilers!
i know this isn't p but i watched spiderverse last night and had to get him out of my system + i adore oscar isaac <3 working on two joel fics rn so expect those :)
ao3 link | masterlist
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The ruffling of your sheets weren't nearly enough to wake you from your sleep. But, the pressure of Miguel's body on yours was.
It always was.
"Hey, baby.. It's me," he whispers in your ear, his hands and arms practically consuming you as they roam across your entire body. With you laying flat on your stomach, his hips and chest press so tightly against you.
It runs chills down your spine; the force of his pent up cock in his rigid suit as the sultry voice fills your hazy mind, barely wakening from your deep slumber. His lips plant desperate kisses on the back of your neck, lowering the more he lifts your flimsy pajama shirt up and up and up.
He never did really like you wearing anything to sleep.
Your sluggish murmurs barely register to him, a soft, “Mmphf," and "Miguel.." making him almost instinctively say the same words he always does when he comes to you.
"Yeah.. Missed you too, cariño." He mutters out, his hands already reaching for your shorts to lower them along with your panties, not taking a single second to waste. The small kisses he plants on your lower back never slow, giving you that bit of reassurance which almost sends a surge of energy through you.
He was always so needy with you; never putting much effort to make any small talk. He was here for a reason and you knew that.
But, you didn't mind it one bit.
The cool air from the sudden exposure on your skin sends shivers throughout your entire body, making you tremble just enough to force a faint laugh out of Miguel's throat.
It's that same laugh that makes you crave him; the deep, heavy tone of it making your eyes flutter open with need already soaring through you and your core.
His fingers trail down to your inner thighs, almost teasing you with the gentle glide of the tips, wanting to force those little noises out of your mouth, which he successfully does. Your faint whines just make him grin, knowing that you need him.. just as much as he needs you.
He drifts them over your soft folds, nearly hissing out at how wet you already were. It makes him chuckle, your whimpers growing louder the more he touches you. "Already soaked for me, honey? Bet you were just waitin' for me to come see you.." He whispers out lowly, his lustful eyes fixed onto your glistening cunt.
His fingers take their time, faintly pressing against your entrance and swiping through your lips, gathering the wet slick that you were so graciously providing for him.
It always makes this so much easier for him.
You moan out, turning your head just enough to catch a glimpse of his body and the movement of his free hand releasing his cock from his suit, and the sight makes your mouth water.
He desperately guides the tip of it through your folds, getting ready to indulge himself into your warm heat. The feeling of his cock pressing into you makes you groan, gripping onto the sheets as butterflies flow through your stomach and core, hole clenching around nothing.
You needed him so bad already, just like you always did.
Mouth falling open, you whimper out, "please.." and all it does is make him laugh, smirking as he glances up at you. "Need me that bad, baby? Barely getting started.." He rasps out, nearly pressing the head of his cock into your cunt, but just enough to get him a taste of you.
He groans out, his hands now moving up to squeeze your ass eagerly before slapping it. The harsh sound and the sting of it makes you cry out, thrusting your hips against the sheets in attempt to get some kind of friction.
"Fuck, missed this pretty pussy.. Gonna cherish it.. fuck it.. just like you need, honey." He lets out with a faint hiss, taking his time to start pushing his cock inside of your tight hole. The girth of him makes your walls constrict around him, gripping onto him tightly as he presses himself into you, each inch making your jaw fall wider and wider.
You've been at this too many times with him, but you never get used to the feeling of him inside of you.
It doesn't take too long until his hips are flush against your ass, the tip of his cock piercing so deeply inside of you and filling you up to the brim. It has you letting out small pants, eyes almost rolling all the way to the back of your head at how heavy the air feels around you, how full you feel.
Your face lays on the bed, the side of your cheek pressed against your pillow as your eyes gaze onto Miguel's hips and large body nearly covering you entirely. He licks his drying lips, staring up at you for a moment to look at your face.
He coos at you, almost patronizingly. "Too much?" he teases, "Fucked you so many times, baby.. n' your cunt's still so tight around me."
His head tilts down to stare at the sight of your walls wrapped around him and slightly pulls out as he lifts your thigh up a bit, just enough to see you clench around him involuntarily. It makes him groan; the feeling of your warm pussy enough to wash all of his problems away.
That's why he was here, anyway.
His hips begin to create an unrelenting pace, slowly yet surely making your entire body push and pull into the mattress over and over again, every force of his cock hitting you harder each time.
The echoing smack of his hips slapping against your ass and thighs fill the room entirely, along with your moans growing louder with each thrust. The recurring sting of his skin leaves you breathless, letting out small gasps as you grip onto the sheets tighter.
Miguel doesn't take a second to rest, making sure he slams his cock into your cunt to the brim, using every inch of your hole as if it were only his to use.
He lets out short, hoarse moans each time he enters you. The squelching noises your soaked pussy gives out makes him smack your ass, your slick coating his cock and nearly running down your thighs.
The sounds make your cheeks burn, his mocking laugh forcing a groan out of you as he moves his body forward to lay his chest on your back now, the weight of him keeping your waist and stomach flush into the bed.
The pressure of him feels intoxicating, your breath hitching as he leans his mouth towards your ear. His grunts are the only thing that you can hear now, along with the faint sounds of the constant slaps of his hips against you. It's so filthy, yet you crave it every time with him.
His grunts now turn into whispers; faint, heavy breaths that you can barely process from how full and fucked out you felt.
It's almost like you're going in and out of consciousness, hardly registering what he was saying, until you hear, "Good fucking girl.. Lettin' me use you like this, fuck, taking such good care of me.."
You whimper out in response, his words making that heat in your stomach and core rise. The praise, yet degrading things that Miguel tells you always leave you wanting more.
His hips begin to slow down now, instead taking his time to pull his cock out of you, letting the tip of it rest against your entrance. Lifting his head from your shoulder, his eyes travel from your bare skin back to your ass. He shoves himself back into you, harder with each thrust so you can feel every inch of him, taking you completely.
You cry out at the intrusion, the harsh force making your eyes roll back as you whine out his name. The push of his cock reaches that spot deep inside of you, forcing your eyes wide open at the overwhelming sensation.
His name on your tongue drives him insane, lifting one of his hands from your ass to reach underneath the weight of your head, wrapping his fingers around your throat. He feels your heart pounding beneath his fingertips, his grip on you tightening just to see you gasp with his eyes fixed on your face now.
He moans your name, his coarse voice making you tighten around him, "There we go, sweetheart.. Think I hit a spot, yeah?" He murmurs out, your groans giving him the answer he needed. The repetitive movement of his thrusts never relent, Miguel making sure that the pace and aim of his cock stay the same.
Your body shudders at the feeling, sending waves of pleasure through your core as you feel him buried to the hilt. You breathe out, desperation seething out through your teeth, "Yeah, Miguel, s-shit, yeah..", feeling your orgasm build up the more he fucks you.
"That's it, honey, let me hear you say it.. Who's fuckin' you this good? Who's gonna make you come, baby?" He pants, thrusts growing faster as he chases his own release, needing to come with you.
Another smack of his large hand on your ass makes you gasp out, eyes shutting tightly as you force the words out of your lips, "You, Miguel, fuck, s'always you.. no one else.."
Your confession goes straight to Miguel's cock, pride growing at the knowledge that you give yourself to him and only him. He grits his teeth, groans slipping out of his mouth while he reaches between your stomach connected to the bed, pressing his fingers against your clit.
"Yeah, baby? I'm the only one who can fuck this pretty pussy, that right?" He urges out of you, hardly processing his thoughts before he can speak them, "You're mine to use? Mine to fuck when I want, huh?"
His words mixed with the pressure of his fingertips on your clit, pressing small, tight circles on it has you moaning out spurs of nonsense; mindless, fucked out noises, with the way his cock slams inside of you over and over again. You feel so full, the heat and coiling inside of your stomach and core increasing.
You whine out, biting your swollen lips, "F-Fuck! Yeah, yeah, m' yours Miguel, all fucking yours.." you breathe out, "Yours to fuck, whenever you want.. Yours to use; whatever you want, Miguel.."
Admitting that shouldn't have felt as good as it did.
You never thought you'd be able to speak like that, much less degrade yourself in such a way; not until he came into your life.
Not until he ruined you for everyone else.
His chest presses tightly against your back, lips back in your ear as he grunts into it, "That's my girl.. knowing your fuckin' place, that's right.." His hands press into the small of your back, forcing your stomach into the bed. You didn't think it was possible for you to feel even more full, but the way he buries his cock to the hilt has you seeing stars.
The quick circles on your clit with the force of his hips has your stomach tightening, coiling up as your walls constrict around his cock, making you come without any warning at all.
Your head lifts, pants and moans escaping your throat with your eyes shut. Miguel's voice encourages you, his fingers on your clit slowing, though his hips never let up. He lifts his chest off from your back to gain better leverage now, hands gripping onto your ass as he pounds himself into you.
The pressure of his cock into your sensitive, spent cunt has you wailing out, whining at the overstimulation. Miguel just uses you and your abused hole, chasing his own release as his cock twitches. "Shit, honey, gonna come, gonna fill you up, fuck," he groans out in rushed breaths.
You clench around him involuntarily, the spasms of your pussy and orgasm hardly to your own control, letting out, "Fill me up, baby, ruin me, please.."
Your words were enough to push Miguel right to the edge, the sudden halt of his thrusts making you gasp out as he buries himself deep inside of you, painting your walls with hot, thick streams of come. He lets himself fall against you, chest pressed into your back with his hips up to the hilt of your hole.
The mix of your heavy breaths and his pants fill your ears and the entire room, the air filled with the scent of sex as you both fall from your highs. Your chest fills with air, heaving up and down with each breath you take as you stare at Miguel, taking in his figure entirely.
You could never truly allow yourself to actually feel for him; you knew that would never be wise, but you can't help the words that escape your mouth.
"Stay tonight?"
Miguel just lifts his head to look into your eyes, giving you a small, tired smile. "Yeah, honey.. Thank you..” he breathes with a press of his lips to your shoulder, “I needed this.”
"I know."
-
a/n: idek if this made any sense bc i wrote it so quick but idgaf i need him <3
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reblogs are appreciated!
send me requests & i might write it for you! :)
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smuthospital · 7 months
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⭐️Yandere Husband x reader⭐️
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Premise: Your husband really wants kids, but you're not really all for the idea
Warning: Noncon, breeding, fem reader
Minors DNI
You prepared a cute little basket with bread, some homemade jam and a couple of sandwiches along with a delicious strawberry cake you baked just for today! You look up at the playground from where you're sitting, the breeze feeling just right. It's a beautiful day out. Kids playing, people walking their dogs, couples like yourself picnicking. You and your husband have been together for three years and married one. He's the sweetest man in the world and you couldn't feel luckier to be with him. Your mother introduced him to you. He was her close friend's son. His mother and yours just so happen to go to the same knitting class. Although his mother was of a higher class, your mother and his had a lot in common and hit it off right away. Your mother would have buried you six feet deep if you refused to see him, not that you would've. He's handsome, sweet and has a well-paying job. Of course, that's the side of him that he allows you to see.
He begged his mom to introduce you after he saw you sitting on your porch one day when he was picking his mother up from your house. You waved at him and smiled. His heart was about to pop out of his chest. Your beauty was nothing he'd ever even imagined before. Everything about you is perfect. Everything. He asked his mother about you as soon as he drove off. She was more than happy to tell him. She's quite fond of you and would choose you as a daughter-in-law over anyone else. She couldn't be happier that her beloved first son has shown interest in a jewel like you.
He couldn't help but fall even deeper in love when he got to meet with you. Your voice rings bells in his heart and your eyes speak to his soul. He knew from then on that you were made for each other. He would never admit it, but he's absolutely obsessed with you. He would prefer to say that he's in love with you. Dating was smooth. He quickly proposed as soon as an appropriate amount of time passed. It couldn't come soon enough to him. You're so sweet and understanding. So thoughtful and intelligent. You share interests and when you don't, you make the effort to try. So does he, of course. You're so perfect.
Once married, he was happy to go to work and come back to your loving embrace. He'd rather die than have you support yourself. Anything you want, anything you need is yours. You don't even have to ask, your husband is very observant. You might mention something in passing that he'll overhear. Something small, something you didn't even put a lot of focus into, but he'll remember. He'll remember and he'll get it for you as soon as possible. He'd do anything...and that means anything. If anyone made you cry, he'd comfort you...before beating them unconscious. Getting his hands dirty is a small price to pay for you. But dear god, if anyone dared to lay a finger on you... well...consider them gone. Consider them erased actually. Consider the fact that they won't be bothering anyone ever again. Consider people closely associated with them being severely injured.
He's a ray of sunshine. You love him and he loves you. He loves you very much. You've never had any serious arguments. The two of you got along so well that there weren't any disagreements, but there were, he'd just fold and let it go. The only problem is that now that you're married, he wants kids, but you're not ready. You've never been very good with kids. They make you anxious. The sticky fingers, their delicate little heads, the fact that they could become psychopaths if you don't raise them properly. Not to mention how expensive and time-consuming they are. You spend all that time and energy on them and get almost nothing in return. Don't even get you started on the effects it'll have on your body.
There's just too much that could go wrong and besides, you just font feel like you're mature enough to have a kid of your own when you still feel like one yourself. You're not ready to raise a human being. There's so much you want to do, want to explore and you can't do that with a baby. Your husband on the other hand is great with them. He's the eldest brother of six so he's used to taking care of kids. At birthday parties, you can find him carrying three kids at a time, one over his shoulders and two in his arms, even the older ones, which doesn't surprise you because he's built big and strong. Must've eaten his vegetables when he was a kid, you snicker, inwardly. Your husband pokes you every time he sees a cute video of a baby on his phone like a boy asking his parents for a puppy. "Just watch! Aren't they cute!? (Yyyy/nnnn)!" He sticks his phone in your face and makes you watch a bunch of videos. He has a severe case of baby fever.
You look over at your fiance. He's looking out at the swing set with a dreamy look on his face. A little boy is pushing his younger sister and they look like they're having a blast. You cringe, knowing your husband is gonna bring up the baby talk again when you get home. Just then, you feel a light tug on your dress and look over to see a little girl around the age of 4, wobbling on her feet, looking up at you. You at least try to be good with kids. "Hey, what are you doing?" You laugh nervously. You know you're in for it now. You can feel your husband's intense gaze on the back of your neck.
"...Mama said that if I'm good, I can have cake. I was good today, so can I have some,...please?" You look up to see a woman face palming and yelling at her daughter to come back and stop bothering the nice lady. You smile at her mother, letting her know it's okay. "Well you asked so very nicely, how can I say no?" You cut a small slice and plate it for her. You give her the plate, but she just looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. "I...I always let Mama feed me," she says as fiddles with her fingers nervously. So adorable. You look up at her mother, who seems to be busy dealing with one of her other kids and decide to give her a break. Although this is breaching your comfort zone, you just can't say no to that face.
You pick up a fork and begin feeding her. You just know your fiance has the most love-struck look on his face, if you were looking at him, you'd be able to see big hearts in his eyes. You peek over at him to see just that and roll your eyes. "Mm so yummy! Thank you miss!" She gets on her tippy toes and kisses you on the cheek. You must admit that was adorable, but your opinion remains firm. No kids. No way. You still have plenty more reasons not to have any so cuteness is not enough to sway you. The little girl waddles away back to her mom. You don't want to turn around. You sigh and look at your husband to see he is still swooning.
"Oh my god! That was beautiful. You be such a good mom!" He coos. You groan. "We talked about this so many times, honey. You know how I feel about kids," you pout, folding your arms. You could've sworn you saw his eyebrow twitch like he was upset. "You'd be great, I believe in you. I just know it," he beams. Oh, he's not mad. Must've been your imagination. You roll your eyes. He didn't listen to a word you said though. You love him so much, but he's a brick wall when it comes to things like this. He's been on your ass quite literally about kids ever since you got married. "I need more time," you say, looking away from his pouting face. He was a bit gloomy for the rest of your outing after that. Last night, you misplaced your birth control pack. You were worried about it, but you just brushed it off and decided to take two the next night when you do find them.
Soon, your picnic comes to an end and you head home. He's on you as soon as you shut the door, kissing you passionately. You return the gesture, hugging him close. "Don't take your birth control tonight," he whispers huskily in your ear. You stop and push his chest. He takes a step back and looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed. "We literally just talked about this! Respect that I don't want any dumb kids!" You shout. You expect him to apologize, to get on his knees and beg for forgiveness like he always does when he's in the wrong. Then he'd go and get you flowers, and cook for you, but this time, he looks down at you rage evident in his expression. He looks really pissed. You shrink in your spot. What?
"You're being ridiculous, (y/n)! It's time for you to grow up! You're old enough to be a responsible mother so stop acting like a child. I can support the both of you easily. You don't have to lift a fucking finger, just have my child already. I've been so fucking patient with you. My mother and yours have been asking us where their grandchild is. What the fuck do I tell them? I'm wondering too! I've been waiting for you to change your mind and be reasonable, but you're really getting on my nerves now," he grits his teeth as he finishes his sentence. Each sentence felt like a stab to your heart. He's never said such cruel words to you or even cruel words in general before. Your husband hasn't so much as insulted you. You never could've imagined your husband had this side to him.
He gripped your arm and began dragging you upstairs. "Hey! S-Stop! Stop it!" You cry, holding onto the stair rail. He looks back at you. That was the last fucking straw. You hear a loud clap and your head turned. Huh? Your cheek stings? Tears begin to well in your eyes as you hold your reddening cheek. He takes the time to pull you the rest of the way up and into the bedroom. He sets you on the bed and locks the door, taking his clothes off right there, his well-built figure casting a shadow over you. You begin sobbing in your place on the bed, covering your face with your hands. He walks over and gently hugs you, rubbing your back. You push at him, but he keeps you still pressed to his body. "Stop that," he whispers in your ear. His voice is commanding yet gentle, but you ignore him and continue fighting his hold. "That's it. I'm so tired of you acting like this. It's time you give me what I deserve, a family." He grips your dress and violently rips it off you, leaving you in your bra and panties. You've had sex before, but never like this. This is the first time your eyes held fear while looking at your husband.
He shoves you back onto the bed, climbing over you and trapping you beneath him, smiling. He traces a finger from your collar to the center of your bra, where it stills before ripping it off you. You know better than to scream so you whimper as he throws it to the side. He places a hand over your breast, squeezing it painfully. You grab his wrist, trying to pry it off. "You are gonna be a great mommy. Can't wait to watch these fill up with milk." His face takes on that dreamy look again. "Seeing you today in the park confirmed it. You're more than ready." You feel his cock rubbing your thigh. He yanks your panties down your legs, tossing them into the forgotten corner with his clothes and yours. With his other hand and rubs your pussy. You whine and struggle under him, but you know you're no match for him. He spreads your thighs open and lodges himself between them, his cock rubbing up and down your fold, taunting you. "I love you...so much," he says before slowly entering you. You are NOT having a fucking baby. You'll take your birth control and that'll be that. He smiles down at you, knowing what you're thinking and bucks his hips. He laughs like he knows something you don't, but the idea is completely lost on you.
He bottoms out, moaning as he does. He rubs the bulge in your stomach lovingly. "I want a big family, honey. Make me a daddy. Let me breed you," he says, rutting into you. Even though he's being so rough, it feels so damn good. He picks up your thighs and pressed them down beside your head, squishing your cervix with his cock. Your tongue rolls out your mouth as your eyes roll into the back of your skull. He kisses your neck and cheeks, giving you soft praise. "I knew you'd be good for me. Such a good little wife and soon to be mommy. You're gonna look so cute stuffed with our baby. God, I fucking love you," he chants as he rams into you again and again, your brain is far too clouded by the feeling of him spearing your guts to understand him.
You dig your nails into his back as continues bruising your poor cervix. You let out a choked whine. "It's ok, honey, you can cum. I'll allow it." As if on command, you do. He kisses your lips passionately, quickening his pace. Moans leave your mouth each time he pounds into you, the air and sound being forced from your lungs each time on impact.
His fists curled in the sheets, his eyes clenching. He slams his hips to yours, your body being forced farther before he grabs your hips and forces you back. He grunts as he cums deep inside you, your stomach filling to the brim with his seed. He sighs and kisses your cheek. You breathe heavily, waiting for him to get off, but he doesn't. He just starts going again like he didn't just fill your guts up.
"W-Whah?" You whine. "I need to make sure my seed takes, darling. We'll be doing this until I say we're done so don't complain now." You can tell by his tone that he's daring you to try something. You just clench your eyes and keep taking him. You're so bloated with cum. He's never been like this before, always stopping when you wanted to and treating you like porcelain. Now he's grabbing you and fucking into you like he's been holding back for years, which you now think he has. Your eyelids begin drooping after the sixth time he forced you to cum. You can't keep them open and he notices. "It's ok, take a nap. Warning, I'm not stopping. I guess I tired you out," he laughs.
You wake up to him hugging your back, spooning you. You look at your alarm clock. It's been hours and judging from the still-wet cum all over your thighs, he only stopped recently. You slowly and very carefully slip out of his hold and off the bed. You feel a soreness like never before in your stomach and almost fall to the floor. Oh god, your uterus. More cum slips out of you as you walk to your vanity. You open a couple of drawers where you think your birth control might be, but it's not there. Where could it be if not in your vanity!? You look around frantically, but you still can't find them! You begin looking everywhere. You check the bathroom cupboard, opening it slowly so it doesn't creak and wake up your crazy husband. It's not in there! You look down to see the crumpled package in the trash. You pick it up to see it empty. Every single slot, even the pink period pills. You begin tearing up as you see there are tiny white specs by the sink. No! He washed them away! How could he!? You clutch the sink as you stare at the empty package. You feel a presence creep up behind you. You look up in the mirror to see your husband right behind you, looking down at you with disdain.
"I knew you were going to take them after I told you not to so I got rid of them last night." He planned this!? "Let's go back to bed...Common," he says tiredly and grabs your arm, forcing you back into bed with him, your back to his chest. You feel his cock harden and you try to inch away, but he grabs your hips and rubs his cock up and down your folds before jamming it inside you until he bottoms out. You whimper with your hands over your mouth, knowing that if you annoyed him while he was tired, you'd get in real trouble. He lazily humps into you, rubbing your bulging tummy from behind you, his lips kissing your head. You pass out later from exhaustion.
You wake up to find him not in bed. You take the chance to get up and throw on a sweatshirt and sweats. You grab your wallet and sprint out of the room and down the stairs, ignoring the painful limp he gave you and the soreness in your poor tummy. Your wrist is caught mid-air..." Where the fuck do you think you're going, honey?" He asks, his sweet smile contrasting the bone-crushing grip he has your wrist in.
"O-Oh! Um...we...need-" He cuts you off in the middle of your lie, yanking your wrist and forcing you closer to him. "You were going to go kill our baby." You've never seen such darkness in his eyes. "Well, you can't. I won't allow it. The doors have new locks just for you, love. You're not going anywhere." He smiles down at you, that same handsome face you love, but now come to fear. You gulp as he leads you into the kitchen where he prepared a beautiful breakfast.
You soon accept what's to happen. Your husband is a loved man. Loved by all. His family, your family, his job, the community, everyone. Your husband is often described as charismatic, funny, helpful and friendly. If you told anyone of them what he's done to you, they'd call you a liar without hesitation or even better, take his side, agreeing that it's time you give him a child because it's your duty as his wife to do at least that for him. Be a little grateful for all he does. Providing for you and taking care of you. You'd rather keep your mouth shut. Nothing good can come of telling anyone. It only took a few days of brutal fucking till you woke up early in the morning feeling nauseous and ran to the bathroom, him hot on your tail, ready to hold your hair back as you emptied your stomach into the toilet. You sob as you hug your knees on the bathroom floor. He got on the floor with you, wiping your tears with his thumbs and holding your face. He smiles wide and hugs you tightly. "Yes! (Y/n)! I'm so proud of you! We're having a baby! I love you!"
Yandere husband with pregnant reader head cannons:
- You're allowed out of the house after a while of proving your obedience! Hooray! With the exception that he has to be there, of course. A man flirted with you a bit while you were shopping and your husband was within earshot. You still cringe when you remember the sound the man's nose made as your husband punched him. It took three security guards to get him off the guy.
- Your husband makes you eat so much! "Sit down and finish your food. You're eating for two, remember!? Or did you forget?"
- Paints the baby's room with non-toxic paint and will not let you help or hold anything. "No, it's too dangerous, (Y/n). Sit back down, I've got this, ok?"
- Spares no expense for you and the baby. Buys everything people recommend to him
- Watches youtube videos for things he needs to watch out for during your pregnancy
- Does pregnancy stretches with you and won't take no for an answer. "It's good for you and the baby so get to it! I'll do them with you so we look silly together!" You both still have a fun time.
- You once dropped a book on the floor and your husband burst through the wall to get to you, leaving a cartoon cutout of himself and all. "WHATHAPPENDAREYOUOK!?" He shouted all in one breath. You assured him that you were just fine and that you'd only dropped a book, but he still cradled you in his arms crying.
- Cooks all your meals and cuddles you every single night.
- You being pregnant does not mean he stops fucking you, no. He's just a lot more gentle with you.
- Has everything about your pregnancy and birth planned to the exact detail, even when you'll have the next one.
- He rubs his face against your tummy and kisses it, singing to the baby.
- Do you need to get up? "Here, take my arm...actually...I'll hold you!"
- He picks up the phone on the first ring...and you better too or he's racing home.
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jobean12-blog · 1 month
Text
Boom Clap
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader
Word Count: 1,063
Summary: Before tonight you wouldn't have been able to label your relationship with Bucky but after he gets home earlier than expected from a mission and shows up at the bar everything changes.
Author's Note: Just because, I love him and this look ends me every time and it's lightly based on this song Boom Clap by Charli XCX. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you 🥰
Warnings: it's just Bucky being irresistible and soft too
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“Well, something clearly more interesting than this conversation is going on in your mind. Would you like to share it with the rest of us?”
Two pairs of glittering eyes stare at you, twin knowing smiles gracing your friend’s lips and you frantically try to recall what the three of you had been discussing.
“There’s only one thing that can be giving her that look,” Nat laughs. “A man.”
“And not just any,” Wanda adds.
“Bucky,” both women say simultaneously and with devious grins.
You sip your drink to hide your smile.
“You must miss him since he’s been away on the mission all week,” Wanda muses.
You don’t say it but you do miss him. A lot.
“So what exactly is going on with you two?” Nat asks
With a nonchalant shrug you sip your drink again and try to figure out how to label your relationship with Bucky. Your friends wait, expressions expectant but playful.
If you had a definitive answer you would share it but ever since the two of you started hanging out neither of you had given it a label. You were just enjoying each other. In every way. You were happy being with him, that much of which you were sure.
“Umm…” you start.
That’s the only word you get out before you see Wanda and Nat’s drinks pause halfway to their mouths. Their eyes are trained on something just beyond your shoulder, toward the entrance of the bar.
Several other women at the bar pause their own conversation and you sense the shift in energy.
He’s here.
You place your drink down on the bar and turn. Bucky stands just inside the doorway, his black jacket draped over his broad shoulders and his covetous blue eyes focused on you.
Awareness races across your skin coupled with a heat only he can set ablaze. Your pulse quickens and you fight the urge to run into his arms.
He wears all black, from his tight fitted shirt down to his leather boots and his strong jaw is shadowed with dark hair. When he walks toward you at the bar, he moves with such sensual purpose that you notice another woman swooning.
He looks hungry and determined.
And he’s here for you.
You reach out and grab your drink, downing it in one long sip.
Without removing his gaze from yours, he takes your hand and brings it to his lips, turning it over and kissing the inside of your wrist, then your palm, then finally, your fingertips.
This time, you hear the breath woosh from Nat and Wanda but Bucky shows no reaction, appearing oblivious to anything else but you.
“Guess he’s back,” Nat whispers to Wanda. You barely catch the words as Bucky consumes your every thought.
“I missed you doll,” he whispers against your wrist.
“I missed you too,” you reply breathlessly.
He lowers your hand from his mouth and keeps hold of it between your bodies. With a soft tug he brings you closer, leaning into your neck and whispering along the shell of your ear.
“Come home with me?”
“You don’t even have to ask,” you murmur.
“Yes, I do doll. I would never take you for granted.”
Your free hand slides up his chest to his jaw, tracing the outline before you softly press your lips to his. His eyes fluttered closed and he breathes you in.
“I’m just going to use the restroom and say goodbye to Nat and Wanda. Meet you back here in five.”
“Hurry,” he murmurs, letting his eyes sparkle with words of unspoken want.
You rush off toward the bathroom, Nat and Wanda right behind you and after relieving yourself and filling your friends in you search for Bucky’s tall figure.
You find him standing at the bar, taking to someone. As you get closer, you see that the woman is standing close enough to brush against him. Unable to see Bucky’s face, you watch as she runs a hand along his arm with a gentle squeeze of his bicep, smiling at him flirtatiously.
Your heart drops into your stomach and you feel your eyes well with unshed tears but you can’t stop your forward movement. Bucky’s face comes into view. His eyes aren’t on the woman but furiously scanning the room. He looks uncomfortable, backing away from her and saying something you can’t hear.
You consider turning and running out but that wouldn’t be fair. You and Bucky have no official label, have never agreed to be exclusive. You can’t even blame the other woman for approaching him. He’s impossible to resist. You should know.
But then his eyes meet yours and you see all the emotions rushing through them, but mostly you see relief.
Taking a deep breath, you continue to walk forward. Bucky holds his arm out, his eyes begging you to walk into his embrace.
You slide into his side in time to hear him say, “here she is. This is my…”
“Girlfriend,” you finish, smiling and extending your hand with your name. “Nice to meet you.”
“Wow, lucky girl,” the woman says as she shakes your hand. “You deserve an award for landing a man like this.”
“I don’t need an award. I’ve got him,” you say as you reach down and take his left hand in yours.
Your eyes meet Bucky’s. “Ready to take me home Buck?”
“Always doll.”
Your hand stays tightly tucked in Bucky’s as you walk down the street toward his apartment. You turn toward him, the warm breeze caressing your skin and the city lights dancing in your eyes. His breath catches in his throat as your lips spread into a wide and reassuring smile.
He stops walking in the middle of the sidewalk and pulls you flush against his chest, his eyes wandering over your face.
“Are you really mine?” he asks as he dips his head. “You’re really my girl?”
“Yours Bucky. I have been from the beginning.”
His fingers spread across your lower back and he slowly drags his hand along the curve of your spine, every inch he covers pressing you closer against him until he reaches your neck and traces the delicate column before cradling your cheek.
He sweeps his thumb along your skin and holds your lips just centimeters from his, whispering, “mine,” as his eyes close and his mouth captures yours.
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@randomfandompenguin @hiddles-rose @goldylions @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @lizette50
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cursingtoji · 9 months
Note
11 and 21 with gojo please please PLEEK
One Bed + Hate Sex
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⊱ ex!gojo x fem reader, smut, one face slap (on him), degradation but also praising ig?, possessive gojo, 2k words (this almost consumed me) ┊The Clichés ™
note: i got a litte crazy in the process of "why would i hate gojo" and ending up taking an extra prompt from the list for this so... ta dah ✨ ex boyfriend gojo enjoy
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“It's been a while” Satoru greets.
One year it’s a long time, seeing him makes your stomach hurt but you realize you don’t carry as much resentment as you used to.
After your break you asked to be sent on missions far from tokyo, you knew eventually you would see Gojo Satoru again, and there he was, in casual clothes standing by the exit of the train station you agreed to meet at.
You felt him before you turned around the corner, and he felt you too. His six eyes could see the flames of your cursed energy increasing and decreasing as you tried to control your emotions. When you showed up he smiled, eyes hidden behind the sunglasses.
“Indeed.”
The director of Kyoto explained Gojo was meeting you there cause he got a lead on a special grade cursed object and you would be his companion on the search that would start tomorrow morning. That shouldn’t be hard, right? 
“How've you been?” he asks politely.
“We don’t need to do that” you reply quickly as both of you made your way to the cabs.
“Why? Am I supposed to not care for your well-being anymore?” his question would seem innocent to anyone, but you have trained ears for Gojo Satoru, and you can tell when he’s being patronizing.
“Yes, just like I don’t care about yours” you enter the cab and give the driver the name of your hotel, Gojo walks around the cab and sits beside you. The close proximity of him in this confined space already makes you uneasy.
“Don’t be like that, I know that’s not true” he puts his arm behind you, his cologne invading your senses and you consider rolling down the windows, but nostalgia stops you, “No matter what you say, i can still read you like a book” he whispers moving some strands of hair out of your shoulder.
Gojo knows you’re too well-mannered to do or say anything to him in this cab, you don’t wanna embarrass yourself in front of the driver even though he’s a stranger. Gojo always hated how much you cared about other people’s opinions — one of the things that you constantly fought about near the end of your relationship — yet he knew how to use that on his advantage.
The cab drops you off in front of your hotel and you leave Gojo to pay for it while making your way to the reception, giving your last name.
“I’m sorry, miss, I couldn’t find a reservation under your name” the girl at the reception says.
“Wha— didn’t you make a reservation?” you ask Gojo.
“I thought you were gonna make it” he shrugs and you have to restrain yourself from attacking him.
“Fine. Two rooms for tonight only” you turn to the receptionist again.
“Sorry ma’am, we’re all booked for tonight” she explains.
“Can you check again?” Gojo extends a membership card and she types something on her computer.
“Oh we have one master suit available for premium members” you roll your eyes.
“We'll take it” he says.
“Wait, just one?” you intervene.
“I'm afraid so, it’s the only room available for tonight.”
“So what’s gonna be, baby? Sleep with me or on the street?” he pushes his sunglasses down his nose bridge, wanting to see in detail your facial expressions as he teases.
“Don’t you dare call me that” you growl at him, “I shouldn’t have agreed to this mission” you mumble the last part looking around and considering your options.
“But it was not your decision to make, was it? You’re too much of a people pleaser to even question an order from those bags of bones you respect so much” he mocks bringing in a frequent fight topic.
“We'll have the room” you turn to the receptionist after realizing you didn’t have much to do anyways, right now you just look forward to locking yourself in the bathroom for at least one hour while you wash all the Gojo Satoru out of your system.
Gojo offered to carry your small one-night bag, but as expected you don’t let him take it, once you arrive at the room you can’t help but admiring how fancy it is. Just the kind of place Gojo used to get for the two of you.
“Good thing it’s a king size” you murmur looking at the huge bed, should be enough to sleep without touching him.
Gojo walks past you, pulling his sweatshirt over his head, the shirt underneath raising slightly but enough for you to take a peek at his back muscles and gulp.
“I'm going to shower” you announce, taking some clothes out of your bag and leaving your phone at the nightstand.
“Without me?” he blinks suggestively.
“Ugh” you slam the bathroom door in disgust.
Gojo laughs and lays at the bed getting comfortable, he reminisce the times when you were dating and he showed up at your hotel even if he was not part of your mission, he would get you a secret upgrade for a room with hot tub and sat there with you leaning on his chest while you talked about a future where you would be a teacher alongside him and not need to travel so much. Later he would assure the two of you would make it work through kisses and sweet whispers while fucking you slowly and passionately and take you out on a nice restaurant afterwards.
Gojo is pulled out of the memory lane by your phone’s message tone, he doesn't think twice before reaching to see what's your notification.
> did you arrive well? Xx
Suddenly he sees red. The contact name is unknown to him and he prides himself on knowing almost every sorcerer in Japan. So who the fuck is that?
Once the bathroom door opens, Gojo confronts you immediately.
“You moved on quite fast” you look up, noticing the phone in his hand and quickly trying to snatch it back before he disappears from the bed and reappears behind you.
“Don’t fucking test me, Satoru” you try again.
“Who’s he? Huh?”
“None of your business” you get closer and on your tiptoes to retrieve the phone, Satoru holds your wrist with more strength than necessary.
“Is he a curse-user? Kyoto faculty? Answer me” he pushes you until your back hits the wall, throwing your phone over his shoulder — not giving two shits if it breaks — and moves to be in between your legs, holding both your wrists above your head in one hand.
“None, get off of me”.
“Non— you’re dating a civilian?” he laughs, the psycho laughter gives you chills.
“You have no right to speculate about my own private life!” you tried to kick him, but he closed your legs between his own.
“That's why you broke up with me? To be with a boring fucking no-one?” that’s the angriest you ever seen Satoru, even when you fought he always kept his voice down, as if to tease you even more.
“I did break up and you didn’t even question it, did you? Didn’t even put up a fight!” you yell like you’ve been meaning for so long, after a big fight you yelled that you two should break up and his ‘yeah, maybe we should’ shocked you.
Satoru’s grip loses around your wrists, his big blue eyes look down at your anger filled ones seeing a hint of hurt in the features of the girl he fell madly in love with.
Fuck, he missed you so much.
You're panting at this point, both of you stay silent until your gaze falls to his lips, that's all the encouragement he needs to close the gap and kiss you, you gasp when the towel slides down to your feet, now physically and emotionally exposed to him. Gojo groans when he touches the bare skin of your waist and your arms fall on top of his shoulders. It’s incredible how quick you surrender to him, lips parting for him to taste his beloved one.
You can’t help the way your body reacts to him, not even when you attempt to rub yourself on his thigh and he stops you.
“‘S your boyfriend not taking care of you?” his tone drips mockery, a hand crawls up grabbing your breast harshly.
Before you can send him to hell his tongue is shoved back inside your mouth and you rub your thighs together already feeling yourself getting wetter.
“Fucking slut” he groans on your lips pinching your nipple and moving to cup your cunt, “Does he touch you like this? Like the whore you are? Or he treats you like a little delicate thing you pretend to be?”
Your palm acts fast to slap his cheek.
“Fuck” he moans, the burn on his face going stray to his dick as he ruts against your stomach.
Satoru slides the hand between your legs to spread your slick and press the heel of his palm on your clit, you whine, pressing your back against the wall.
“You’re not getting away from me, so don’t even try” your former boyfriend pushes his fingers without much resistance from your moist walls.
“T-Toru” you shut your eyes letting the nickname escape. This is all he dreamed of, having his name come out of your lips again, but he still couldn’t get over the fact you let someone else touch you, especially someone that did not understand you like he did. Someone that had no idea the type of job you had and how dangerous it was. Someone that would stand up during the mission assignments to volunteer for the most dangerous ones so you wouldn’t go.
“That’s right, baby, say my name” he curls his long fingers inside you, moving one arm out of his shoulder to guide your hand into his pants, where you quickly wrap around his length. You move his pants and underwear out of the way, the hot skin of his dick touches your stomach and you look down. And god, he has such a pretty cock it’s unfair.
“Wanna suck me, gorgeous?” he murmurs, watching the lust in your eyes, “Missed my cock in your mouth?” he hits the sweet spot inside you harder when you don't answer, “Say it” he grabs your jaw forcing you to stare at the dark ocean in his eyes.
“Y-Yes, I missed your cock” you confess, letting out all the times you pretended it was him pleasuring you instead of your fingers.
You squeeze his base when he fastens his fingers and your orgasm approaches, but it doesn't take long before he removes them and you whine.
“You’re all bark and no bite, all it takes is having your pussy played with and you get quiet” he bites your lobe, his harsh words make you wanna hide your face in embarrassment.
“Satoru, please” you beg and pull his pants all the way down trying to move to get on your knees.
“No, you’ll take what I give you” he grabs your arm and pushes you onto the bed, discarding his shirt before moving to position your knees on the mattress, “You’re lucky if I even let you cum tonight…” he strokes his cock with your remaining moisture on his hand before moving to bury himself in your walls, “... after everything you put me through” he confesses the last part in a hush.
“M-Me? Fuck you, Satoru” he fucks you roughly, not giving you time to argue back.
“Yeah, you” he punctuates with a particularly hard trust, “Can’t believe you were sleeping with someone all this time” his voice breaks but his pace doesn't.
You feel him in your cervix, but his tone pulls you out of your pleasure to explain yourself.
“I’m no— not” you whisper and he stops to lean over you.
“What was that?”
“I’m not… sleeping with him, he’s not— he’s no one” you confess slightly turning your head to look at him, his eyes squint as you feel his hot breathing against your neck and chest on your back.
“Good” he straightens up and pulls out. You turn around sitting on the bed and pulling him by the neck to kiss you again, Satoru complies, crawling with his lips attached to yours, until you're laying on the pillows wrapping your legs around his waist so he’s back inside you, “Missed this cunt so bad” he cups you again, feeling the way your lips stretch to his length while sucking on your nipples.
You arch your back “Hate you so… much— agh!”
“No you don’t, you never have” he bites your nipple and your nails sink on his back.
“This is pretty empty for an all booked hotel” you comment when you sit at the restaurant for breakfast the next morning while a cup filled to the brim with coffee, having slept only 4 hours since Satoru kept you up all night, denying your orgasm until you begged and apologized.
“Is it?” Gojo tilts his sunglasses looking around, finding only four other tables occupied while you stare at him suspiciously. He wonders how long it’ll take for you to find out that on the way there he booked every single room except one so you wouldn’t have a choice.
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see also: Gojo + Fake Dating # Toji + Forbidden Love
3K notes · View notes
churipu · 4 months
Note
Hiii!! I can ask for jjk men (your choice!) with a girlfriend who doesn't look like it but is like super strong! ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ I have a love for those types of characters<3 thanks in advance!
I hope you are getting better ❤️‍🩹
jjk men & their "looks like a cinnamon roll but could kill" you gf
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featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, nanami kento x fem! reader
warnings. cursing
note. anonnn <33 i absolutely love this one, i have so many speculations for different characters about this request omg, thank you for requesting love, i hope this one is up to par, much love xoxo (and i am feeling so much better now, thank you for checking up on me). OH AND GUESS WHAT? u don't understand how thankful i am to reach 300+ followers in the first week??? u guys rock, ilysm
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GOJO SATORU. i feel like he'd feel so betrayed after finding out how you're very strong?? one second he's looking away and then the next second, he looks back and a curse is ready to pounce on you. he grits his teeth when he realizes that — but before he could even do anything, there you were, sending out a strong punch that leaves a gust of wind as a cherry on top.
gojo could only stare at you, jaw dropped. all he could think of was how on earth did you do that and how could someone so...cute and adorable like you send out that kind of punch. honestly, on one side he felt so betrayed to only know of your power now — but on the other side, he's so damn proud of you.
after all of that, you still managed to send him your most innocent smile as if you didn't just almost possibly created a hurricane with that punch of yours. skipping happily and then throwing yourself onto the male, "satoru!"
"you never cease to surprise me, baby." he chuckles.
and you blinked at him innocently, a little confused at what he's talking about. at first gojo thought you were just pretending not to know, but when he realized that you actually didn't know, it dawned upon him that maybe you didn't even realize how strong you actually are.
"y/n, you just obliterated a curse."
"oh. oh. yeah! i did."
yeah, you definitely weren't aware of your own strength. which surprised gojo even more.
TOJI FUSHIGURO. he's always thought that protecting you was one of his main duty, and believe me when i say that toji is always on guard for anything that could possibly send harm your way. feral animals, harmful plants, annoying babies, curses, anything he finds annoying — he just assumes you don't like them either.
despite not having a cursed energy, toji is strong. anyone would agree with that. so when he settled in with you, someone who radiates such loving and gentle aura, toji made it his job to keep you out of harm's way.
but apparently, you've got that under covered.
being in a relationship meant going out on dates occasionally, right? however, some people do not understand the meaning of "i have a boyfriend" and it annoys you. so when toji was away to fetch a few things and you were left alone, a stranger felt like it was the best time to hit on you.
"saw ya' from a couple of minutes ago, thought you're cute. we should hang out."
obviously the word "no" didn't work as he kept on bothering you, and you do know how people react when they don't get what they want sometimes? they just plain out throw words to boost up their ego and deny their own embarrassment. it's funny.
"whatever. ya' aren't that cute anyways." everything began out as an exchange of words — until anger consumes the best out of them. the male got ready to swung his hand on you.
and believe me when i say that toji was having the time of his life watching you exchange angry words with the guy, until he saw the male raise his hand. toji was about to drop everything and come to your rescue, but stopped when you smacked the stranger across his face harshly it sent him stumbling over his own feet.
toji chuckled lightly, although surprised. that day, i swore he promised himself not to get on your bad side (also, he thought it was pretty hot of you). he told you he'd been watching from afar, and was so ready to be your knight in shining armor.
apparently, you are your own knight in shining armor.
NANAMI KENTO. for the longest time, nanami has stood his ground in defending you from malices and curses. some of the people do not like the idea of you and him together, especially girls who failed to obtain his attention (obviously). and he'd always be the one to tell them to piss off and not to butt in his relationship.
you were just a normal businesswoman working normal office hours, and nanami — well, he's a pretty busy man. but he has made himself visible to your work environment a couple of times, mostly because you were clumsy enough to forget your bento box that you made for yourself before going to work.
and apparently that few times was enough to make girls swoon over your boyfriend. honestly, you could care less. you trust nanami. but things went rock bottom when this one particular girl, a co-worker who was obviously jealous of you. and she doesn't hesitate in showing that to you.
"accidentally" spilling coffee on you, "accidentally" stepping on your foot with her heels, "accidentally" bumping into you, "accidentally" elbowing your head when she walks by. just everything in an attempt to get a reaction out of you so she could possibly play the victim card.
you brushed her every attempt off, although it bothered you quite a bit. but your last straw was when she "accidentally" ruined the report you've been working on for the past week, sacrificing your rest and sweat for it — only for her to dump down a cup of iced macchiato on it the day you were supposed to hand it in to your boss.
you've just had enough of her, and this was not something you can brush off like her other "accidents" because this report would affect your position in the company (and possibly get you fired). but at this point, do you even care? no, no you don't.
"so, is this the part where i hit her?" you ask another co-worker who was there in the room when everything happened, and they nervously shook their head, "really? i feel like this is the part where i do."
so when you did send a punch to her jaw, your other co-workers were quick to run find help (your boss). and all it took was one punch to make the girl wobble weakly, her knees buckling.
oh, and your boss wasn't too happy about your resort in violence, especially in the work area.
"i don't care, i'm fired anyways." you took off the company's id card that was hanging from around your neck and tossed it onto the table before packing your bag to leave.
your boss wasn't the only unhappy one, you were too. and nanami as well.
"it isn't my fault, kento."
"i know, darling. i'm not saying it's your fault, i'm just surprised...that's all."
well, that was the first time you've ever threw a punch to someone. and the first time you've ever been fired, so yes. it is a surprise to nanami, but to you? you were expecting it sooner or later with the pace of how that co-worker was going in with her shenanigans.
"she was pushing it."
nanami was silently proud of you for being able to defend yourself though, "well, at the end of the day, you won the fight. right?"
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© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !
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marcsburnerphone · 3 months
Text
And they were roommates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: angsty (minimal), john being slightly troubled, alcohol, reader being slightly embarrassing.
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5!! -part 6
—————-
You wake up to the sun softly beaming in your room. Limbs stretching beyond the covers. You look around a little confused as to when you got back in your bedroom. Then it all came together. John, John leaves today.
You get out of the covers leaving your bedroom hoping he’s still there but of course to your disappointment he’s gone. You head to the kitchen knowing at least there will be a note. 
Good morning doll, I thought of waking you but decided against it, though I might regret it. The movie was good, you seemed to really be enjoying it also:) Here's the phone number of a friend in case any problems arise. Next time I’m back I hope to see another painting - John 
(xxx-xxx-xxxx) - nick
You stare at it trying not to let your emotions get the best of you. So you fold it and put it in the kitchen drawer. Although John was an awfully quiet roommate you could feel the weight of his absence. The cold floor beneath your feet has grown warm for how long you’ve stood there. You make your way towards the front door deciding that an iced coffee and a long drive with music will rid you of this feeling you can’t decipher it feels like want but in a way it’s also need but what is it you want and need? Not even you could answer that question.
Long story short you think it made the feeling intensify.
————-
1 month in
You’ve booked your schedule full leaving not an ounce of time for yourself. From the morning till night you had clients which were good for money but really it was a distraction for your mind. That same feeling felt like it was running into new veins every day seemingly consuming you. 
You tried to start a new painting but something was off about the color scheme and it was a waste not only of time but material and energy. You wonder how John is.
————-
2 months in
No problems have arisen since he’s been gone. It's like the house knows you’ll call the expensive plumber instead of John’s friend. 
However you have started a painting you are beginning to like. It’s a mix of hues you’ve never used before blues and oranges, a flame. You don’t know where or why the idea came to you but it’s what you wanted so you started it. A single candle is the outline, and the surrounding of it is the orange yellowish aura of a flame. You tried making ratatouille the other day and although it was good you wished it was made out of pepperonis like your childhood mind had imagined. You forgot there was no longer anyone to finish left overs so you ate it for three days straight.
Also you bought a new rug.
————-
3 months in
You’ve begun putting the final laminate on the painting. It’s taken you far longer than it would’ve if you hadn’t accepted 15 new clients. Not that you mind anyways. 
You’re also a little ambivalent to the idea of John paying for 6 months of rent when he doesn’t even live here during it. 
Besides that life seems stagnant and you’ve begun to lock your bedroom door at night again. 
————
4 months in
The painting now hangs a foot away from where the other one in front of John’s door does. It’s a beautiful contrast and really you were overjoyed at the outcome. You also randomly decided it’d be a good idea one night after too much wine to order new furniture for the outside deck. When it arrived you were one in disbelief of all the building pieces and and two excited to have something more to do. 
You should've stayed up the night John left.
————
5 months in  
Redecorating the deck wasn’t enough change. You needed a makeover physically but couldn’t decide how. Maybe a tattoo? No. New makeup? No. How about a haircut?  Fuck it, yes. 
So you did just that, you got a few almost unnoticeable highlights and chopped a good amount off. After the fact you were obsessed. Was it impulsive and could it have gone so horribly wrong, yes. But did it? No. 
———
6 months in 
John’s still not back and it’s all you could think about. What if something happened to him? What if he wasn’t coming back? You worried yourself sick so much so you physically became sick. 
You waited week by week for anything, maybe he’s back on base but just hasn’t come back home yet. But something was telling you it was more than that. 
———-
7 months in 
At this point worrying wasn’t going to make him appear. Your hobbies have now turned into distractions. So tonight you sit in the living room with a glass of wine and watch another rom com. You’re as comfy as can be in this cold brutal weather. It stays below 30 degrees Fahrenheit during this time of year and the snow bites at any unclothed skin. 
You fall asleep to the small hum of the heater while on the couch. Thick blanket thrown across you and tv playing as background chatter. 
You don’t know when you wake but it’s still dark outside when you hear someone that sounds distressed. Your groggy mind isn’t processing that the sound is coming from inside the house. But when it does you're up in a second looking around as your eyes try to adjust to the darkness. 
“Fuck!” You hear from down the hall. John’s room.
You walk quietly towards it as he continues to chant that word. Suddenly it falls silent and you just hear what sounds to be deep breaths. You don’t know what wills you to knock, but you do. 
“John, are you okay?” You ask softly from behind the closed door. He doesn’t respond but you know he’s in there from the quiet but quick breathing. 
“No.” He says with that familiar deep drawl.
You open the door slowly to see him sitting on the floor near the corner of his bed clearly distressed. You take notice of the mess wondering how you slept through the making of it. There’s glass from somewhere on the floor and clothes strewn but when you look at him your heart breaks. He’s in full uniform, vest on, belt with equipment on, as if he didn’t stop anywhere. Just came straight here. His hair has grown out to an odd length and his beard has grown longer. 
“I can’t get this fucking vest off.” He interrupts your thoughts looking at you with a sense of sorrow. You kneel to where he is careful to avoid glass. His eyes don’t glance up to meet yours; they stay fixated on his hands that are covered in dirt.
“May I?” You gesture towards the plastic buckles on the vest. He nods and you start with the two at his shoulders. Then you reach down his chest to undo the two near his belt buckle. You realize it must be connected somewhere in the back when it doesn’t come off. He leans forwards as you look trying to avoid the bloodstains that taint the once green vest and sure enough the tiniest but mightiest buckle is on the center of his lower back. He shrugs it off with a sigh. 
“Better?” You ask softly.
“Yeah, Thankyou.” He slowly tilts his head back to lean on the comforter and you don’t move an inch. 
“What can I do?” Truthfully you’ve never been in a situation so unbearably awkward but so unwilling to just leave.
“Just sit here with me.” So you do. You scoot right next to him and lean your head on his shoulder. He couldn’t admit it but the nights he slept in cold frost biting weather the thought of returning to your warm presence got him through.
“He almost died.” His voice gives out at the end of that sentence.
“Who?” 
“Johnny, it would’ve been my fault. One second later and they would’ve put a bullet through his skull.”
“But he’s okay?” You know John loves his team even though he doesn’t outwardly say it.
“He’s perfectly fine.” 
“Worrying about what could’ve been will kill you.” 
“Sometimes I feel like that’s what I deserve for some of the things I’ve done.” 
“If not you it would be someone else making the world a better place.” 
“I know.” 
You sit there with him for a while in silence. He can barely believe he made it back alive but right now the battle feels worth it. He hears soft snores not too long later and realizes you’ve fallen back to sleep. His head leans to rest above yours as he closes his eyes. He knows sleep won’t come to him but he’s never had you this close and for now he’ll cherish it.
————-
When you woke up again the sun had risen and a golden glow lit John’s room. 
“John.” You whisper trying not to move your head in case he’s sleeping.
“Yeah doll.” He lifts his head to look at you.
“I’m so sorry.” You feel slightly embarrassed and bad that you just fell asleep on him.
“Nothing to be sorry for.” He sighs before standing on his feet with a groan then offering you hand to help you up.
“I’m going to shower.” He says as you dust yourself off.
“After can I give you a haircut?” He laughs a little at your not so subtle realization of his long hair..
“If you’d like.” 
“I’d love.” You say before leaving, assuring him you’d be back when he's done.
You pick up your mess from the previous night. Folding your blanket and putting it back in the basket near the couch. Taking your wine glass to the sink and rinsing it out. You go to your room and change into an outfit for the day and do your morning routine. After you grab your shears, clippers and cape. By the time you're done doing all of this you no longer hear the water running meaning John’s done with his shower. You knock on his door lightly.
“Come in.” You walk in to see him sweeping up his mess with the small house broom and can’t help but smile at the sight. 
“Come on, let's cut your hair in the bathroom, better lighting and you can see what I’m doing.” You say heading straight there. You sit him on the little bathroom bar stool that’s been in there since your ex moved out. Once he’s sitting the only cape you have is pink so you throw it on him begging yourself to not laugh which you fail causing him to smirk. 
“Okay so I’m just gonna clean it up, fade the sides a very little, cut the top with shears and what not.” You let him know.
“You cut your hair?” He replies, staring at you through the mirror.
“Yeah so?” You smile.
“I like it, it looks good.” You feel that feeling only johns been able to provoke.
“Thankyou.” You begin the cut, slowly combing out sections making sure to be precise. He seems far more relaxed than you’d imagined as you just freely cut at the top. After the matter once you're satisfied you shave the sides a little just enough to where it looks cleaner. 
“Can I do your beard and mustache?” 
“You're the hairstylist, not me?” Is all he says. 
So you do, very carefully, mere inches away from his face your hands hold one side of his jaw softly to trim the other side. He watches your expression intently. The way when you’re focused there’s a crease that forms between your eyebrows and your pupils blow a little wide.
“All done.”  You say pulling him from his trance. You move his face with your hands really checking to make sure all is well.
“Very handsome.” You compliment before turning around to rinse your shears and put them away. 
“Thank You doll.” He says examining it himself in the mirror thoroughly pleased with how well you did even though he knows you don’t cut men’s hair. He doesn’t notice you grab his beard oil from the cabinet till you're smoothing it between your hands and asking him to face you so you can rub it through the coarse brown hair. Ever the nurturer.
It feels like time apart only made you two feel closer somehow. Or maybe it’s because you wanted to be close and those feelings were equally reciprocated. 
The rest of that day John had loads of paperwork to file, sign and report. So he did that, he sat in his office for long hours going through the process. The only thing that slightly lightened this burden was your voice humming in the kitchen as you cooked something. You’d stopped by and offered him some which he gladly accepted from your giving hands. Hours later you bid him a goodnight and went to bed and even then he had so much more left.
—————
The next day you catch John in the kitchen and tell him there’s something you must show him.
“So you built it all yourself?” He says as you show him your little project you did outside. There’s a thick coat wrapped around you as you don’t fully step outside to avoid slipping on the icy ground. Him though, he stands on it with no problem in what looks like military issued boots. 
“Yes I did.” You say proudly despite his clear disdain.
“I missed you, even your stubbornness.” After the months John’s been through there was no point in hiding the way he was feeling.
“I missed you too.” You smile while clearly avoiding his gaze.
How had he missed this all along?
“Would you like to go out for drinks?”
“What?” You turn around to meet his eyes.
“Can I take you out for drinks?” What being mere inches away from death does to a man.
“Yeah.” 
-
You both silently walk away trying to break the bounds of the tense pull that makes you want to gravitate towards each other. You put on something cute but also warm and slip on some brown doc martens as your choice of shoe. You do light makeup as you give yourself a pep talk.
“Only two drinks, only two drinks.” You have to tell yourself cause after two your too you. 
You hear John putting his shoes on by the hallway and take in the sight of him, brown leather jacket and beanie. You’re not sure how he’s going to stay warm in that but something tells you he will.
“Ready?” He asks and you nod nervously.
-
“Okay, hold on, I have to do this really slow or I’ll fall.” You say stepping slowly out onto the ground below the porch stairs. 
“Well come here I’ll help you.” He offers his hand. You grab it softly, swooning at the way it encompasses your own. There’s something inside of him that doesn’t even want you to risk walking on this floor but of course he also doesn’t want to push. 
“Okay nice and slow.” You’re not even taking full steps, just small slides. You clutch his hand for dear life and he loves it. 
“Good girl.” He says once you reach the door of his truck which he opens for you. He doesn’t let go till you sit inside then only does he slip his hand from your warm one and closes the door. 
“Which pub?” You ask as he turns on the heater only for your sake.
“The one downtown near the little Italian grocer.” You know exactly which one he’s talking about. Its dim light atmosphere is cozy but fun but usually full of mainly couples.
“Mkay.” You say looking out the window at the gloomy sky realizing it just might rain. 
He glances your way during the small drive, your scent of your floral perfume mixed with his of cardamom and musk is quite perfect. 
“You alright?” He asks.
“Yeah, just comfy, you?” He grins at your response.
“Never been better.”
He pulls into one of the street parking spots and despite the weather the streets are full, he gets out to put coins inside the slot for time before heading to your side of the car. 
“Wait, I'm scared.” You say realizing that the distance to the bar doesn’t seem to be a survivable one. 
“Come on, I'll hold your hand.”
“I’ll fall regardless.”
“Want me to carry you?” He genuinely offers.
“What?” You laugh. 
“Doll I’m very serious I will carry you, just get on my back.”
“What if we both fall?” 
“I’m not falling, trust me.” He says turning around motions for you to get on his back.
“Okay then.” You hook your legs around his upper waist and his arms reach to tuck themselves firmly beneath your knees.
“Comfortable?” He asks. He’s sure you can hear his heart racing from the proximity you’re in. 
“Very.” All your dreams of climbing this man have come true. 
You shut the door as he steps onto the sidewalk. You tuck your chin in by his neck for warmth. He smells woodsy with a hint of musk, it makes your head spin.
“How are you not slipping?” You say very suspicious.
“Doll I could run on this floor with these boots on.” He answers looking slightly over his shoulder at you.
“Well don’t.” You say seriously and he laughs as he approaches the bar, opening the door and setting you softly on the floor. 
He finds you both a booth in the corner and sits on the side where he can see the entire bar, very John of John.
“What do you drink?” He asks, trying to make conversation. Suddenly the air feels very intimate, almost too intimate for what he considers his old man heart.
“When I’m out, martinis.” 
“Espresso?” 
“Mhmm.” You’re trying your hardest to hold the eye contact he’s giving you but something about the blue in his eyes and creases on the side of them has you breaking it quicker than it started.
“I’ll be back then.” He says sliding out of the booth feeling slightly accomplished.
You sit there looking at the lively pub, how many romances are at their peak here, how many friends are having the best night of their lives, how you amongst them are finally feeling like you again. 
“Here we are.” He says returning with two glasses, his is a classic bourbon with a square ice cube in the glass.
“Thankyou.” You say as he slides it over to you.
“So what’d you do while I was gone, other than be reckless and build furniture.” He asks as you sip from your glass.
“I did lots of hair, painted a bit, found new color schemes for decor and that’s kinda it, I’d ask you the same question but I fear you can’t answer.” 
“Your fears are true.”
“That Kate woman, she's very pretty.” Are you a little jealous?
“Yeah she’s also very married.” He says it like he doesn’t know what you're on about.
“And also not into men.” You nearly choke on your drink and swallow hard to get it down.
“Well I was just saying.” Sure you were.
You two have small chatter as you go through drinks. You tried to offer the second round but John said no for you to just stay in your seat. He came back with thirds and you definitely were starting to feel the effects of the previous two, him though not at all.
“So you’re telling me John you as very um good looking as you are haven’t had a girlfriend in how long?” 
“Eight years.” He says while being very amused with your light hearted, open attitude.
“That’s just not right.”
“No?” 
“No, personally, well never mind.” You’re not drunk enough to say what you were about too.
“What about you, why no boyfriends?” 
“I’m very, I would say needy I guess clingy even, I’m a double texter, someone who worries and loves too much and I think that can be overwhelming for a lot of people.” You admit.
“Don’t believe that.” He says, sounding a little annoyed.
“For the right person you could never be overwhelming.” He says looking at you intensely and this time you can’t seem to look away.
Once your third drink is finished it’s raining outside and you’re words away from trouble.
“John?” 
“Yeah doll.”
“You make me feel alive again.” You admit, the alcohol has casted a pretty shade of pink on your cheeks as you lean your head on your hand and John doesn’t think he’s ever been more entranced. 
“You and me both, here drink some water.” He slides it to you. You’re sweet, too sweet. He feels like if he touches you physically or emotionally he’d be tainting art.
“Has anyone told you you're very climbable?” 
“It’s time for us to get going, you're quite the light weight.” He laughs offering you a hand as you slide off the booth.
He leaves a tip on the table before walking with you to the door. He has to bend far more than he normally would for you to secure yourself on his back before he’s walking outside. This time he’s walking faster because of the rain droplets that are falling hard. He seats you in the car and reaches across you to buckle you in before heading to his side. 
The drive home is pretty quiet, he drives extra slowly because of the precious cargo he carries. Once he pulls back into the gravelly drive way you unbuckle and open the door as he puts the car in park. 
“You don’t want to wait for me.” He asks, a little concerned.
“I got this.” You hop out of the elevated truck immediately slipping and having to grab onto the door. He walks quickly to your side laughing at the expression on your face.
“You sure do.” He says as he grabs your arm
“Oh stop it.” You say accepting the help, sliding your feet on the ice again till you get to the door. Once you get inside you groan into the toasty air. 
“Thankyou for tonight John.” You say facing him once you kick your boots off. You hadn’t realized how close you were till you turned around and could feel the heat radiating off of him and smell the bourbon on his breath. 
“No, thank you.” He says feeling awfully captivated, hanging onto your every move. You cup his face and stand on your tippy toes, boldly yet slowly placing a kiss on the corner of his lips. 
He’s starstruck. Absolutely dazed at the look of mischief in your eyes, something that tells him you know exactly what you’re doing to him. 
“Goodnight John.” You say patting his chest and walking down towards your room.
—————
I couldn't wait till tommorrow i'm sorry.
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twilghtkoo · 12 days
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pairings. jungkook x bookworm!reader (f)
genres/aus. fluff, established relationship
warnings. jk loves calling reader ‘sweetheart’, mentions of reader’s anxiety, and a short kiss(makeout?) scene, not proofread!
notes. i actually loved writing the first drabble of jungkook x bookworm!reader and i can’t sleep and currently rewatching the twilight movies as im writing this so here’s this :D likes and reblogs are appreciated <33
[ masterlist ]
you can’t remember when you had told yourself, one more chapter. but apparently it’s been long considering it’s almost three in the morning. the ice in your coffee has melted into a smaller ice cube, so you take a big sip. not wanting the ice to water down the sweet, creamy taste.
coffee late at this hour doesn’t affect you no more. you drink it now for the taste more than anything. you can thank school and those tiring days of studying hunched over a table. the amount of energy drinks and coffee you’ve consumed should be concerning but you gotta do what you gotta do.
if jungkook was here, he would’ve had a fit and told you drinking caffeine at this hour is bad for you.
but he’s not. he’s at a late night practice and he told you he’s not sure he’ll be able to come over.
you have your two pillows propped up against your headboard, your book nuzzled against your thighs and your stuffed animal under your arm. your bedside lamp creating the perfect lighting for you to see and the perfect atmosphere.
you’re deep into your book, too engrossed in the plot between the love interests that you don’t hear keys jingle and a door softly shut and echo in the quiet night of your home.
you still don’t hear the soft feet padding towards your bedroom until your door opens, revealing your boyfriend.
he looks as if he’s freshly showered, the ends of his hair are damp and stringy, and his face is bare and cheeks a soft red. that’s how it looks after he finishes his skincare routine, he must have rushed over here.
he grins when he sees you’re awake and so do you when you see him, placing your bookmark inside and setting it down next to you. you sit up on your knees, eager to touch him and kiss him, realizing again how much you miss him despite seeing him this morning. that was almost 24 hours ago.
but his eyes maneuver to the coffee that’s condensing, making a puddle on the coaster.
he squints his eyes at you. and it feels almost as if you’ve been caught as a child. you lower yourself to sit on the back of your shins.
“hi kookie,” you smile, acting innocent.
“don’t kookie me. how many times have i told you to stop drinking coffee so late, it’s almost three. you’re not gonna sleep.” he tells you again, sternly. reaching behind his neck to take off his crewneck in one swift movement, the shirt underneath scrunches up with the sweater, revealing his abs. and you can’t help but ogle while you’re being scolded. you can’t blame me.
you frown, “i know, i know. but you know reading and drinking coffee goes hand in hand. i wanted to enjoy reading my book and–“
he moves towards you, placing his knee on the foot of the bed, crawling shortly til he reaches you. his nose brushing yours and his eyes half-lidded. the soft scent of his shampoo and brief smell of mint swallows you, bringing that familiar comfort.
“sweetheart, i know. but caffeine also doesn’t mesh well with your anxiety. you know that. it’s fine to drink it once or twice during the day but late at night is a no.” he softly warns, tilting his chin upwards to catch your lips with his.
it was meant to be a quick kiss but your fingers reach to hold his face, tugging him closer to you until you’re lying on your back and he’s on top. his hands placed on both sides of your head, caging you in, straddling you. both your hands trail its way down from his neck down to his chest, stomach and then they find its home at his waist. pulling him down til his front weighs pressure on your sensitive spot.
both of you moan into the kiss, and your sweet sound sends an alert to jungkook. before you both get carried away, he pulls back, kissing you once more before pulling away.
he hums, deliciously. “though coffee does taste best coming from you.” he gazed at you, eyes shining and lips slightly red. no doubt, you look the same.
“i thought you weren’t coming tonight.” you say questioningly, watching him move your book next to your coffee so he can lie underneath the covers with you. once he’s settled in, he has an arm resting behind his head and the other resting around you.
“i wasn’t, but i really wanted to sleep with you and i wanna make you breakfast in the morning. i saw a recipe i wanna try.” you hum in response, trying to nuzzle your head deeper into his warmth but his t-shirt is blocking what you want.
you tug at his shirt without saying anything and he understands. he sits up quickly to shrug off the fabric, tossing it across the room to land beside his bag before lying back down, holding you.
he lets out a dramatic sigh, “ahh, this is my favorite thing in the world.” turning on his side, you following so you’re both facing each other, legs tangled together.
“i missed you too.” you whispered. he didn’t say it but he didn’t have to, his answer was enough.
your head nestled underneath his chin and against his chest, you kiss the skin.
“what chapter are you on?” he asks, his voice deeper than it was, slumber almost taking over him.
“twenty-eight, i’m almost done with it.”
he hums. “did you start the book today?”
he feels you nod. “my little bookworm.” he coos, scratching your back softly with the tips of his fingers. “go to sleep, sweetheart.”
and you do.
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iwaasfairy · 6 months
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┌─ “ ! „ SPARKSTONE
tw. blood kink, noncon, pain play, lashing/whipping, toji’s foul n mean, degradation, prostitution, daddy kink, kinda size kink as always w me heheghe wordcount. 4.6k
a/n. thank you a million to the loveliest friends who always keep me goin when i'm having a hard timEEE rhi, wil and dymmiEE thanK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR betaing ily so much ♡ i hope i did the big man justice he is so yucky n i love it,, also extra shOutout n love dym bc she gave me the vision i saw i came i had to have it so !! iLY ILY ILY
fushiguro toji x fem!reader
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If you know one thing from your years hiding in the shadows of the more powerful, it’s that danger has a taste. It sticks to your skin, longing for an opening. And tightens around your organs as you swallow it down, setting your hairs on end. Instinctually, humans know danger when they sense it, and by that same measure, they’re usually smart enough to hide before they get found. You might be simple prey in the eyes of the strong, but you hate the feeling deeply, and avoid it where you can.
You’re always aware of eyes that trail you, and you can smell it in the air.
The burgundy walls and nice chandelier bloom like a flower when it gets dark out. It fits the business. Like moths to a flame, that warmth lures men with a promise of a warm body and expert secrecy, and usually that’s plenty. Luckily for you, most of them leave before their wives start to wonder, which means you don’t have to deal with the drunk and impatient by the time you come in for a shift by early morning. Your days are easy, if you pretend you don’t know what types of people stumble home from their rooms in the seedier back of the building. Smelling of booze and body fluids and most of all, sex. That’s how it is.
Sorcerers are people too, by your cousin’s words. He’s not wrong. By the types of people that come in and out of the doors day and night, he made a smart investment starting this place a few years ago, and you’re grateful to get to work here. There’s no place for small-fry cursed energy users out in the daylight— and you’re not exactly dying to lay your life down for others in the first place. It’s this, or even less savory jobs for those people like you, who see things that others don’t. You’re more than happy with a simple life sitting behind the front desk, and going home to crash before the grosser individuals have a chance to harass you.
Which is why your skin itches a bit when the soft cling of the bell sounds so late it’s early. You’ve barely had enough time to open the doors. For not the first time, there’s a soft buzz of a warning sign that greets you as you sigh. Isn’t 5 in the morning a little early for even the more degenerate types? You get up to hang your jacket in the back room as you hear heavy steps make it into the foyer, and swallow. The slight pulling of cold under your skin has your lips pressed tight, swallowing. They don’t ring the bell, don’t yell or break things, don’t even talk. But they also don’t turn to leave.
So you smooth your hands down your pants, and eventually walk back to your spot behind the counter. It’s still dark out, still has the uncomfortable pressure that lingers as you cast a quick glance around the room.
And all you see is eyes that pull a cold shiver up your spine so quick it freezes you in place. The dark figure is splayed out with his arms over one of the couches, but those sharp eyes don’t move an inch from you when you meet them. Narrowed in their cold, metal blue darkness, and all-consuming. The man is not young, not old - but definitely older than you, scarred and quiet, and you can’t help it- when that foul, dangerous taste wells up in your mouth in the form of saliva.
After only a few seconds, you grab the phone and ring a number one, taking it off the horn for your own safety. It rings as the man gets up with a sigh and walks towards you, only leaving the space of the desk between you two. There's a soft mumble on the other side of the call, but because the horn is pressed to your desk, you can’t make out exactly what’s said before the customer - you assume he’s a customer, judging by the foul sort of stench of death that follows him around - clears his voice.
Only a sorcerer can have that sort of smell, and no sorcerer would enter here if not out for one thing. You don’t normally do intake, you realize as your hand trembles just slightly. You leave the horn of the phone for a pen instead, and try to rid your throat of the thick block that pushes on your windpipe. “Welcome. How can I help you?”
The man’s hair is messy, lazy, much like his clothing is; and he takes a moment to look around before his eyes flick to the stack of notes before you, the phone, and then you again. “Ah, uhm. Are there rooms open this late? Or early, I guess.” He ends up saying, a bored sort of lilt to his deep voice. You can’t even meet his eyes, but you can feel the painfully intense stare that doesn’t move from you again as you put on your best smile.
“There- should be, yes. Hmm, let’s see. Do you have a preferred girl you’d like to see here today?” Your hand only stops shaking when you press the tip of the pen to paper, if only to give your hand something to do as you quickly flick between the pages of the book.
“Not really.” He runs his hand under his nose, before leaning both forearms onto the desk and invading your space too much. You barely resist the urge to jerk back entirely, and feel the heat travel between you two. See, you were never able to fight curses. But you did always have a good nose, and his presence is like maggots crawling around under your skin. It’s unbearable. Your lids flutter as you stop flicking, and just focus on not throwing up entirely. Every part of him stinks of rot, oozing danger enough to suffocate you.
You simply pick one of the names at random, and start digging through the shelf for the correct key as fast as you can. Your heart hammers in your chest like that of a hummingbird, and is almost loud enough to keep you from hearing him when he speaks again. You can’t quite bear to meet his gaze, but one look up at his mouth reveals a tiny sort of curl to his lips that’s just as upsetting as the stench that swirls around the room. Everything feels wrong, and you want to stop yourself from hurling your guts out over the table. The man taps his finger on the counter a few times. “Are you new?”
Your head shakes faster than you can think about the answer. It wouldn’t be of any use lying anyway. For some reason, you feel like he’d be able to see right through you. When you finally find the right key, you feel like a weight lifts from your chest, and you slide it across the stone towards him. “I always work the morning shift, I don’t do nights.”
“Hm.” He doesn’t need to say anything else. Only when you slide the paper form across the table too,  do you notice the call has disconnected - you’re not sure for how long - and you manage to force your eyes up to face him for just long enough not to seem impolite. But your blood still feels uncomfortable and itchy, even when he slowly picks up the pen and starts writing his name down at the top of the form. After a few seconds, he clicks the pen to his chin, and looks down at you with a coy smile as he straightens up. “Actually, what about you? You’re a skittish, little thing, and I have a bit of a hunger for something light and fresh today— I had the longest night ever.”
His scar pulls when the smile gets a bit more predatory, and you feel pinned in place like an insect under a magnifying glass when he aims the pen at you. “Looks like you’re a good listener, sweet girl.”
“I- I-” you start, stepping back until your back hits the wall and even then, there’s not nearly enough space between you and him, “I just work as a receptionist. I don’t do-” You might puke after all. Those eyes only seem to get wider when your bottom lip wobbles, and you feel the sick sense of glee he gets rather than see it. You don’t think -no, you know- you couldn’t take him in a fight, but still your fists ball up tight.
The lift dings though, to your relief, and a familiar face rushes out to give you an up and down. Your cousin’s got a bed head, deep grooves under his eyes as he jogs up beside you. “What the hell, you’re fine! When you didn’t respond on the phone I thought something might’ve happened to you.” You can’t say anything back, but you’re so glad to see him your mouth drops open and a little whimper comes out of your throat despite yourself. The young man frowns, before glancing to his side and - pauses. You can’t exactly place the expression he gets, but he must feel what you’re still feeling laced in the air, because he blinks a few times before taking a step back. “What’s this?”
“I was just telling him I’m- o-only a front desk worker,” you start, shuffling uncomfortably when those steely eyes find your body, giving you an awfully unsubtle once over. Pig. He doesn’t even bother to hide the way he’s undressing you with his eyes. Your cousin thankfully hums in agreement, and crosses his arms over his chest. “So-”
The brazen noiret doesn’t hesitate to nod though. And the confident tone from earlier doesn’t waver a bit. It’s like he’s barely inconvenienced by your statement at all. Like you’re playing hard to get. You’re not. "That's fine by me. But I’m going to be the exception.” Under his sloppy clothing, there’s no doubt he’s fit. He’s tall, and obviously wired with thick muscle that makes his shirt cling to his biceps, even more when he crosses over the furniture to reach a hand out to you, and make your shivers so much worse. “Come, little deer. I’m gonna have some fun with you.”
Your cousin places a hand on the other man’s shoulder though. “She’s not that kind of employee, sir. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, or else-”
“Or else what?” You swear you can feel a pin drop when his eyes finally move away from you, now at the other man. Your heart still beats wildly. “How about this, huh. You let me play with your little friend here, and I’ll decide not to kill you, her and then everyone in here for making my long night even longer.” He doesn’t even have to straighten up for you to feel like he means it. Even without flashing a weapon, or pulling out some fancy cursed technique, do you feel the increase in thick waves of tension; drowning you in that same, rotting stench of incoming disaster. You can’t ignore it, can’t do anything but gasp shallow, little breaths when he does round on your family, squaring up to him.
Though they’re both about as tall, the stranger’s built like a brick wall. He must know that, because he laughs. “I’ll be very nice to her, don’t worry.” His eyes tell everyone daring to take a peek that he doesn’t mean it, but at least you don’t flinch when he looks at you this time. Ah, that’s right. You really do hate sorcerers. The black haired man walks past to come grab your arm, and tosses the key you provided him earlier high into the air before catching it. It instantly is too tight, and hurts. You plant your heels into the floor, hang back with your whole body. You want to scream. Your other hand claws at his strong palm -wrung like a vice around your wrist- and you start to whimper.
“N-wait, let me go. I don’t work here like that, I- leave me alone, let me go!” You get pulled along anyway, like you’re a toddler throwing a tantrum; he yanks you with barely any effort and sends you stumbling behind him. “No, I don’t want- aniki! Aniki, tell him- I’m not- I’m not for sale.” Hair whips around as you try to plead with the man left standing in the lobby, but though he looks guilt-stricken and apologetic, he doesn’t move from his spot. You don’t have a say in the way the man dressed in all black drags you behind, even when you try to make yourself dead weight and stop him. “No, no, no, wait, please! Kou aniki! Kou~ help me!”
You get it.
“Let me go! Let me go, pl-please! Hck.” Your voice breaks when wetness spills down to your hot cheeks. Really, you do get it. But the lamb still spooks when presented with the gun, even if it doesn’t run.
You’re sat on the edge of the bed as tears run down your cheeks and drip off your nose.
You can’t imagine it makes for a very appealing sight, but whether it’s indifference or sexual gratification, it’s clear your grief doesn’t matter to him. Toji, he said his name is, but you only know that ‘so you can cry it later’. It makes you sick - the sight of him makes you want to dig your nails into your own palms until you bleed. This is how it is for the weak everywhere, right? Sit and wait to die. As the cold embraces your body again, you sniffle, but wipe the tears away. You’re not a fan of waiting.
If he’s going to do it, better do it quick. Before you decide to start biting anyway. The dim lighting of the reddish room doesn’t do anything to warm the mood except make you even more aware of him as he kicks off sandals, slowly, demanding attention. He stares you down like a predator keeps an eye on his prey. The scent is still suffocating, but there’s a more alarming feeling blanketing your senses now. You’re scared. There’s nothing you can do about it, it’s in the goosebumps on your skin as he walks closer, and you scoot back onto the soft mattress to avert your eyes to yourself.
You’d rather go out kicking and screaming- but with your fear ran so high, you settle for the second best thing. “So, you’re not going to kill everyone, but just me, huh?” He’s taking off his belt as you ball your hands in the fabric, and force yourself to watch him under heavy lashes, with as much hatred as you can. “You like that? Scaring girls half your size?” You’re not sure either why you’re running your mouth. It must be the high of incoming death. “Does that make you feel powerful?” He doesn’t even pause, and pulls his shirt over his head to drop it aside too, then licks his lips.
After a slight moment of silence, he just shrugs. “Yeah. It does.” You scramble back until you reach the head of the bed, and pull your knees to your body. And the man crawls closer anyway, reaching to grab one of your ankles and drag you back. You don’t know why you’re struggling. It’d be easier if you laid down and died. As if reading your mind, he chuckles as he yanks you down until you’re spread out on your back, and pins you in place beneath his heavy body. “Don’t be so frightened. I’m not actually going to kill you.” He pushes over you, and makes sure you’re nose to nose when he talks next, basically drooling as you try to escape from him. “Just going to hurt you pretty bad. Don’t you like that?”
You struggle against him, but it’s not enough. He ties your hands to the bed painfully tight, letting the frayed edge of the rope burn into your skin each time you move- and proceeds to cut your clothes off with the knife that was hidden in his waistband. The torturous pace at which he does everything is almost worse, setting your entire body on end with anticipation. You thrash against him as he places a thigh either side of your body, and grabs your face in a large, rough hand. Once again you feel reminded that you’re really nothing in the face of someone more powerful. It’s frustrating. It’s annoying, and hurtful, and a migraine starts gnawing at your head as you glare up at him. And he almost pouts at you in mockery. “It’s cute that you’re trying so hard. You can cry, you know?” He leans in to lick along the shell of your ear down to your neck. “It’s going to happen sooner or later anyway. Why deny yourself?”
The hot touch of his tongue sears into your skin like it’s poison. You try to pull your wrists loose again, to no avail. The skin just feels achy and burning. “That’s really what you want to do, right? Cry for mommy and daddy to save you?” When he pushes back up to your mouth, laying his filthy lips on you again, you’re quicker than you think - and actually manage to bite him. It’s not enough to cause much damage before he jerks back, clenching one hand over your mouth to shut you up. But he runs a thumb along his bottom lip, and slowly starts grinning. Blood glitters on that finger before he licks it away, and raises his dark eyebrows at you. “Aren’t you brave…”
Before you have time to prepare yourself, that heavy palm meets your cheek, stinging it all over and rushing blood to the surface — it’s hard enough to pull real tears out of you, and your nose to start running as you bury your face into your arm. The sting spreads under the surface like fire. The low chuckle he lets out is mean and predatory, definitely when he takes that as an opening to start groping you through your bra, and soon that’s shoved up too to let him pet all over you. “Good. I don’t have to feel bad about all this, then.”
“Mh- hck-,” you whimper, trying to ignore the painful tugs he gives your nipples, pinching you. It still sends heat to your belly, and somehow that’s the most embarrassing thing of all. You hate him. More than anyone. “I-”
“Don’t say you’re sorry. I won’t believe you anyway.” He quickly whispers back, leaning in to force his mouth to yours and kiss you, tongue pushing against your teeth until you give in. He tastes like blood. His own, from the cut that’s not yet closed up; and he kisses like he’s trying to consume you. Rough hands knead and toy with your tits until you start squirming, before they glide down and make enough space to peel your panties down your thighs torturously slow. “Ahh, you look good like this. So pretty. Stay there.” He chuckles to himself as he gets up and you whine, not for him, but more his dragging it out. It’s not like you have a choice about staying…
When he comes back to you, something cold makes you jerk your eyes open. It’s something long and capped metal at the end, not sharp enough to stab you clean through— but it’s still hard and sharp and anxiety has you freezing below him. “Wh- what, what are you-” Would anyone even come help if you screamed? 
Toji slaps the thing into his palm a few times, before those mean eyes glide over you, and you find yourself crossing your legs tight to protect your most sensitive areas instinctively. The sound of the metal whipping through the air is more than enough to put fear into you. Your lip trembles when he gets back onto the bed, and mirth plays in his eyes. “This is going to hurt.” Then he whips his hand down and instantly, your eyes shoot open with pain. Blood splatters as he cuts you open, each impact leaving a cut and nasty thumping that will make a bruise, telltale sign of a cursed tool.
“Ack- no, no- please stop! Stop, stop, please! Please, it hurts! It hurts!” Your eyes clench shut, but tears well up and come out anyway, making tracks down your cheeks. It stings so bad, and after even just a few lashings, you can’t stand it. Everything’s glowing and burning, hot all over as your knees knock together. Another whip has you trying to pull your arms out harder, to no avail. You don’t want to look, but the pain in your hands tells you that the heat running down your arm must be blood. Didn’t he say he wasn’t going to kill you? “Please, please, Toji. I’ll do anything! Anything, please- j-just no more.”
“I refuse.”
“Please~” you sob, only opening your eyes to see how he stands bent over you with his tongue caught between his teeth, head tilted in curiosity like a dog. The whip is dripping red, hot blood down onto his hands, and though it seems impossible to have so much blood coating everything- it’s yours, right? He stays quiet for a moment or two, and the thick tears wobble over your vision. “Please, I don’t want to die. Please. Please. I’m -” your throat closes up when he leans his heavy weight down over you and hovers his lips over your mouth, “I’m beg-begging you.” One hand comes up to grab your face, and he buries his nose into your throat, where a wet tongue starts swiping along your skin.
The soft groan he lets out is foul, coming back up with his mouth full of your blood, and he grins. “Keep going. Beg like a good girl~” Then he dips down, forcing his tongue and the coppery, familiar taste into your mouth, melting his lips to yours as he hums. His strong chest meets your naked, pitiful form as one hand comes down to yank your leg up around him, and the kissing gets more distracting, warmer, deeper — you want him to stay just like this. “Keep talking,” he whispers again, lower this time, and when you’re opening your eyes his stained hands are back to kneading your tits. “You’re sort of cute covered like this, whining like a baby. C’mon.”
Red’s covering everything. Every cut on your body is searing and tight and painful, and he’s pushing his thumbs along the closing wounds as if he’s trying to leak every last drop out of you; but you can’t really feel it. It must be adrenaline you feel coursing through your veins like a drug, goading your heart into pumping so hard you can see it bounce through the skin. “Pl-please.” Your chest rattles, as he watches you. As he degrades you, lifting both your legs up to your chest to spread you for him. “Please, Toji. Please f-fuck me instead. I w- need you to.” He takes the knife used to cut off your clothes, and ever so slowly drags it along the supple inside of your thighs.
And though you jerk, and your jaw clenches while tears fall, you can’t help it. You’re shaking your head, but your pussy clenches around nothing. “Please, please, need you. I’m sorry, I want- I want it. I wan’it… daddy.” Despite the short inhale he takes, sharp eyes pinning you beneath him like the crying mess you are, it’s not his reaction that has you blushing, heat filling your entire face with that cottony feeling. You’re so fucking weak. It’s pathetic.
“Hah,” he snorts when watching you wiggle and cry, presenting your wet, little hole to him, “whiny brat.” His hand lands onto your pussy and it makes you jerk again, squirming against his strong grip, before he turns his palm to grind into your clit and his fingers teasing into the soft folds. The wet squelching doesn’t stop the stinging tingling down your entire body, but - it’s also so unfair. You can feel yourself drip as his thick fingers slide in and out of you again and again, pushing into your plush walls just right. “Call out for daddy, go on.” You don’t want to know how much of it is blood, or how much is your own body betraying you.
You don’t see when he takes off his boxers, now finally as naked as you are - but you do see it when he starts rubbing the head of his heavy cock over your slicked up slit, catching your clit every once in a while. He cocks one brow at you at your silence, and softly hums a deep, raspy breath. You really are weak. “Daddy, daddy, please- pl-hck- please put it in, I’m losing my mind.”
“Seems like it,” he mumbles back, a cocky grin reappearing right before he grabs himself by the base and leads his fat cock inside you with no further warning. He’s too big as soon as he shoves himself inside halfway, grabbing your hair as you wiggle against him. The other half is forced deeper as his cock bumps your walls, makes your pussy drool and clench, and your mouth hangs open as you try to keep from screaming. Your back lifts off the bed a few times, legs opening wider to make room for his thick thighs as he bottoms out and stretches you too thin. “That’s a nice noise.” He’s laughing.
You can’t relate. Your entire body feels wound too tight, legs locking around his glutes in the naïve hope for some reprieve— before he pulls back and holds himself above you. Scared pecs and arms flex when he pulls all the way out, only to thrust back in too deep and have you choking on it. It’s hitting so deep it leaves you speechless. “Make it again,” he gloats as he chuckles into your face, before kissing you again, and this time he bites your lip, hard enough to taste copper. Oh, fuck. You cling onto the ropes for dear life with your numb fingers, and try to wrap your legs back around him with a choked whimper; but you can’t.
You’re shaking, and your pussy’s clenching and sucking around him hard each time his hips meet yours and heavy balls smack against your ass. You feel like he’s going to fuck you through the wall. Drool’s mixed with the blood you swallow, letting his tongue melt to yours, and make you even more needy for air. Each pump inside you gushes more slick out of your cunt, lewd noises and ‘pap’s filling the room along with his grunts. And you only pull away to gasp, and get pulled down onto him again and again. “Daddy, daddy, I’m- gonna- cum.”
And he plants a hand on your throat to squeeze until your eyes cross, free hand going to hold your shivering thighs in place as he buries his cock deep into your plush walls. “Dumb, dumb girl- I don’t need- ugh- you to tell me that.” You’re folded double entirely as he keeps the rhythm entirely ruthless, and your belly starts tightening under your body jerks shut around him, crying out. You can’t even feel your hands anymore, and your breathing’s so shallow and confused you’re lightheaded. Your toes curl so hard you feel like you’ll pass out, but Toji doesn’t stop. Not even when hot ropes of cum fill the heat of your spasming pussy up and spill out— he doesn’t even slow.
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