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#did i mention he can purr
tobyislame · 8 months
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general eyeless jack headcanons
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ik i literally just said this will be an exclusively ticci toby blog but u guys get one (1) ej post as a treat bc i have a biiiiig phat crush on him
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- he has a strong distaste for his given name. constantly being referred to as "eyeless" just feels like twisting the knife. so, he really appreciates it when people shorten it to ej. he prefers to just be called jack, though.
- he has black blood. does that subsequently mean his blush would be black?? idk i’m thinking maybe it shows up on his skin as like a dark bluish-purple, kinda like a bruise but… he’s blushing.
- he's got a nice set of large, pointed teeth. when he speaks those chompers are on FULL display, so if he happens to have his mask off, he’ll mumble to try to keep them as concealed as he can.
- what used to be fingernails are now blackened, talon-like claws, which will rip through everything if he isn’t careful. with enough concentration, he can keep them folded down to make them less obtrusive, at least enough to get dressed without making his clothes all… holey.
- that being said… he has no control over his claws when he’s asleep. his sheets are absolutely shredded, pillowcases torn through. they’re also perpetually stained with his eye goop. he's learned to just not bother with patching up his sheets anymore.
- he is LARGE. he is a LARGE MANTHING. he's 8'2 and well aware that he towers over most because people won't shut the fuck up about it. he's also just stocky, with big burly shoulders and enormous hands and man he is just BIG.
- despite his size, he moves quietly and swiftly. he carries himself like he's much smaller than he actually is.
- he isn't really aware of his own strength — he still surprises himself with the damage that he can unintentionally administer. he finds himself having to make a conscious effort to hold back.
- he's completely blind. the way that he “sees” is similar to snakes — utilizing infrared sensors which lie somewhere in those eye sockets of his (eldritch being rules it doesn’t have to make sense), he can sense the heat given off by objects in his environment. this becomes especially useful when tracking down potential victims. somewhere along the line, he learned or “evolved” to use echolocation as well, gaining the ability to make the same sonar clicks that bats do to make their way through the world. these can’t be heard by human ears, but if you’re close enough, they can be felt in your teeth.
- also similar to snakes, he’s cold-blooded. just absolutely cold to the touch. he wears warm clothes all year round, even in summer. he should be sweltering in multiple layers in the middle of june, but really, he’s just fine.
- his senses have all evolved to compensate for his lack of sight. most sensitive of all, though, are his ears. he can identify individual footsteps from miles away. this makes it near impossible to get away with muttering something under your breath. even from across the entire house, he’d be able to hear what you said. (i am aware actual blind people don't have superhuman abilities i just think this is the way it'd present in an enigmatic being)
- his skin is thick, sort of like a rhino's. bullets essentially ricochet off of him, blades snap... this, however, doesn't make him invincible. high frequencies are a surefire way of disabling him.
- he feels hunger much more intensely than any normal person does. when he goes too long without eating he'll become rabid, driven by instinct alone. at that point, he isn’t himself anymore. his body isn’t his.
- in this condition, he'll take on more bestial qualities, sprouting (larger) claws, a second row of teeth, additional tongues... he also exhibits heightened strength, speed, and agility. he'll behave more like an animal than anything else, tunnel vision pointing to only one thing: eat. he does everything in his power to keep this at bay, because in the past… incidents have occurred. let’s just say you wouldn’t want to be caught in the same forest with that thing prowling around. he hates to hurt others when he doesn’t mean/need to, especially since all he can do in those moments is helplessly watch behind the eyes of something that isn’t him.
- he really isn't a killer. although he's lacking in the sympathy department, he has the ability to put himself in the shoes of others and feel what they feel, which is his biggest weakness — as you can probably imagine, being an empath isn't so convenient when you have to kill to survive. often, he feels the pain of those who have the misfortune of ending up beneath his scalpel. beneath his hands. he’s aware that he’s taking that person away from someone, and it hurts him. he just powers through.
- he couldn't eat human food even if he wanted to, and believe me, he wants to. it's just that, if he even makes an attempt, his body flat-out rejects and regurgitates it. think that one tokyo ghoul scene... basically like that. he seems to be able to ingest coffee and tea just fine, though. earl grey is his favorite. on rainy days, his favorite thing to do is brew a cup and sit on the steps to the front porch, listening to the drops plinking off puddles.
- he doesn't particularly like for anybody to see his face. would rather keep it to himself. he's not exactly sure what he looks like, but he can take an educated guess that it isn't pretty. he'll usually just keep his mask on when he's around others, only taking it off if it ever happens to be absolutely necessary. if someone were to take his mask from him, that’d probably be the closest he could get to his rabid state without fully submitting to it.
- when he’s angry (which seldom happens) the tar in his eyes seems to boil and pop, kind of like hot oil in a pan. if it happened to get on you, it’d fucking burn and begin to dissolve right through your skin in the same way acid would. stay out of the splash zone ig.
- he can cry, but the way it presents is similar to ghibli tears — thick, messy glops of black that stain his skin, clothes, and whatever else they happen to spill onto.
- he doesn't just eat kidneys, he tries to make use of the entire body. it’s the least he can do. he doesn’t want to just throw the rest out like it’s trash. even when they’re dead, dissected, splayed out, closer to meat than human, he tries to respect his victims. they were people once, too. just like him.
- he also tries to make harvesting from his victims as easy of a process as possible, for the both of them. he injects them with anesthesia, enough to kill, then uses surgical tools to make the job as quick and clean as possible. no screams. no thrashing. easy.
- he can't remember much of his past life. most of what he can recall are just bits and pieces of out-of-place memories, puzzle pieces that don’t quite fit together no matter how hard he tries to make them. however, the one thing he was able to definitively grasp was his affinity for physiology, human anatomy, and surgery. because of this, he held onto it fucking tightly and devoted himself to it — just so he wouldn’t forget it, too.
- before, he was going to college to become a general surgeon. in fact, he was just about to move on to med school. now he's essentially the mansion's resident surgeon/doctor, and he does his job quite well given that he doesn’t have the resources most other medical professionals have at their disposal.
- he's especially interested in the medicinal qualities of plants. often, he'll go on nature walks in search of herbs that he can put to good use. he uses what he finds to make ointments and medicines and such, often utilizing his own resources in his procedures. in his room is a little garden of his own in the form of pots hanging from the ceiling, holding plants that he meticulously tends to with GREAT precision and care. he'd never trust anyone else to take care of them for him, not even for a day.
- he cannot stand disorganization, it drives him fucking insane. everything has to have a place, and everything has to stay in its place; it becomes difficult for him to find things, otherwise.
- if he can't rely on his sight, then he figures he can at least rely on his memory — it’s why he marks the position of his furniture and such with tape so that if anyone does happen to move something, they can at least put it back exactly where it was.
- messy people get on his nerves. leaving stuff in random places and on the floor is just incredibly inconvenient for him. he's tripped because of people's misplaced laundry and stuff.
- he's a man of few words and lacking in expression. often, a tilt of the head is the most he will react with. when he does speak, his voice is deep, so deep that it seems to vibrate. he keeps his voice soft and quiet, though, as if he's afraid of being too loud. and he is.
- since he doesn't speak much, he empties his thoughts into a journal. he'll write about anything: how his day was, what he did, how he feels, what all had happened in his surgery that day, the things he'd observed... although, if you look through it, ramshackle scraggles that almost resemble words litter the pages. he thinks he's writing words, and will continue to do so until it gets pointed out to him.
- a gentle giant. he's incredibly composed and docile, qualities that betray his physical attributes. he isn't "friendly", per se, but he tries to stay far away from hostility when it isn't needed.
- he has an overbearing need for control. he hates the thought that fate could rip everything out from underneath him whenever it pleases. it happened to him once before. he won’t let it happen again.
- he displays an... almost catlike vigilance. the slightest noise is enough to make his head snap towards the source. it's incredibly difficult to sneak up on him, especially since he hardly ever allows himself to drop his guard. he doesn’t like to be at the mercy of anyone or anything. a lot of his mental energy is put towards preventing bad things from happening to him.
- he can purr .
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purring-tiefling · 8 months
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"he's definitely a dirty talker in bed" We Are Not Talking About The Same Lyney. or mine is too customized in my head.
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you'll be back.
Yandere rockstar x reader
A/n: this was very rushed so I'll fix it later, but please enjoy! 🌺
Tw: dub con turns to non con, breeding kink, obsessive behavior, yandere ex boyfriend, very minor angst
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🎸you hated him. Hated his guts, his handsome looks, the way he'd wrap his arm around your waist as if you were still dating. His spotless dark skin you were so envious of, that dumb charismatic smile. You hated it. Why did he do this to you? Always running back and begging you to let him stay for a while. And you'd let him. Why? You didn't know
🔥 Maxine knew. It's because you still loved him. He knew you did. Why else would you let him climb into your bed and hold you close? Why else would you let him kiss your lips? Why else would you let him undress you slowly with so much love
🎸he was a mess for you, no matter how many fans he had, they could never replace you. All the girls he slept with after your breakup? None of them compared. He loved you more than his love for the life he had. But if he did, why did he pick it over you?
🔥 highschool sweethearts, well, up until you both graduated and he started a band. They were small, but slowly grew in the following year. Having multiple companies reach out in hopes of striking a record deal. Soon, nightly Melodies came to be.
🎸you forgot his bandmates names, they weren't really important to you since they didn't bother trying to know their leaders lover. Good riddance you say. You never liked how that drummer kept staring at him.. not to mention his fans were psychopaths. Harassing you online and sometimes even in real life. He didn't even care after you'd complain about it
🔥you were eachother's first time, first everything. So ofcourse it hurt when you finally confronted him after he skipped your date night for the 10th time that month. He never had time for you anymore, brushing you off in favor of hanging out with his "friends"
"just calm down babe geez.. it's not that big of a deal.."
"not that big huh? Well then, if you care so little about actually being a good boyfriend, consider yourself single."
🎸you left him to stare at you in shock as you packed your bags, he tried stopping you. Begging you to stay, blocking the door, standing behind your car as you tried driving away. He promised he could change. But you knew otherwise. You were done
🔥months later, he stalks your socials and keeps sending you gifts. All until you start to crumble and let him in slowly. He knew you wouldn't last long. His reputation and band be damned. All he wanted was you.
🔞you could only stare at him, unsure as he kissed the valley between your breasts and trailed lower, hands rubbing up and down your sides. You could feel his dick press against your leg, your clothing scattered all over the bedroom floor
"there there pretty baby.. let me take care of you hm? Such a good girl.. want me to fuck this pretty pussy as a reward? Hm?"
🔞he slowly pushes the tip inside after teasing you relentlessly for what seemed like hours. Letting out Little groans as he slipped in inch by inch. Praising you for taking him so well, cutting himself off and letting out a lewd gasp after he felt you squeeze him
🔞 he starts off slow and steady, he doesn't last long as he's practically fucking you into the bed. Crying out tears of euphoria at the feeling of you sucking him in deeper, the tip bullying your cervix
"f-uuuckkk pretty ma', hah.. I don't think I can last long- a-ah!"
🔞he refuses to stop after cumming inside you once. Babbling something about knocking you up and filling you up with his children. Gathering some sense of clarity you tried begging him to stop, but he clamped a hand over your mouth. Pinning you down and angling your hips higher. Blue eyes staring down at you with manic glee
🔞drool drips down his chest as he pants and groans, he only stops until he's fully drained and each touch of his skin makes his hips spasm. Pulling you flush against him he practically purrs, nuzzling his face into your chest. You couldn't help but wince at the cold feeling of his lip piercings rub against your bare skin. Tiredly reaching a hand up to play with his dark curly hair
🔞you better hope the test comes back positive, because if it doesn't he'll just keep going every night until you're swollen with his child. This may dampen his image a bit but he couldn't care less. Staring fondly at your tummy and the ring on your finger. He was holding your hand as you both Walked into an important event, He couldn't wait to introduce you to everyone as his wife!
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radiance1 · 24 days
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"Old fuck!" Said Dan as he kicked down the wall to Vlad's office. Vlad only let out a sigh, apologizing for the noise and then ending the meeting right then and there. He glanced over at Dan and wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Do you truly have no concept of a door?"
"It's more fun this way," He mentioned offhandedly as he stomped his way over the Vlad's desk and slammed his hands down on it. "Do something for me!"
Vlad, silently, moured the loss of another table and those three glorious months of peace. He looked Dan in the eyes and raised an eyebrow. "And what, exactly, do you want me to do for you?"
"So you know Superman-"
"No."
Dan reared back like he'd been slapped. "The fuck!? You didn't even hear me out yet!"
"I don't need to." Vlad calmly sipped at his tea that wasn't there a second ago, and then let out another sigh. "And do stop screaming obscenities at me, it is horribly low-class and you're better than that."
"You're only saying that because I'm a fusion of you." Dan pointed out with a deadpan expression. Vlad snorted. "Obviously."
"Hear me out and I'll think about it."
Vlad sighed again, crunching away at a cookie -seriously where is he getting all of this??- before waving a hand in Dan's direction that basically said "Go on."
"Alright so Superman, you know the guy and you most certainly know his weakness." He swipped a cookie, then continued at Vlad's nod. "Kryptonite, nasty stuff yea. You know who uses Kryptonite the most out of basically everyone?"
"Lex Luthor."
"Lex fucking Luthor."
Vlad placed his teacup onto the desk, threading his fingers together and resting his chin on them as he stared the fusion down. "You know, if you wanted me to... complicate, his gathering of Kryptonite. You could have just led with that."
"Would it have worked?" Dan genuinely asked.
"I would have thought it over a bit more before my refusal." Vlad answered and Dan growled. "Just accept already you old-timer."
"Now, now. If I didn't know any better, I would think that you were perhaps, worried about the Man of Steel himself?" At that, Vlad's eyes turned red as a playful smirk graced his lips.
Dan's eyes narrowed as he lifted a finger towards Vlad acusingly. "Don't you dare try your mind control bullshit on me."
Vlad chuckled. "Oh I would not dream of it, I was merely..." Vlad's eyes shined with mirth as he deliberately paused. "Stating an assumption."
Dan hissed, translating his sheer annoyance through ghost speak while Vlad respond back with a purr. More than throuoghly pleased.
Usually, it was the other way around.
"You can go to hell with your assumptions." He leaned over the desk, destroying it even further as he his claws dug into it. "Either you deal with him or I'll do it myself."
Vlad stared him down for a good few moments, the room falling silent as they stared each other down. Vlad sighed. "Fine, I don't need your little temper tantrum leaving me with such a giant mess to clean up." He tapped a button under his desk -mercifully safe from the destruction- and waved Dan away. "Now if you will excuse yourself, I have a few calls to make, a desk to replace, you know the works."
Dan nodded and over to the giant hole in the wall before pausing. He reached out with ghost speak, sending out a violent threat through intent if he did not follow through.
Vlad simply responded with nonchalance, exasperation, and even a bit of annoyance.
A few weeks later
Lex Luthor is livid.
Someone has been buying up all of the Kryptonite before he could get to it, which should be impossible in itself. But no, then they proceeded to mess with the shipments he managed to get his hands on, interrupt deals to acquire them and even outright destroyed a few.
He has his own stockpile for emergencies, yes. But it's very noticeably dwindling.
Meanwhile with Vlad
"Now what exactly am I supposed to do with all of this?" Vlad asked himself, staring at the large pit of Kryptonite capable of filling multiple warehouses.
Honestly, it was utterly useless to him.
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voyeurmunson · 3 months
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Just Friends: Eddie Munson One shot
⚠️Explicit sexual content. Minors DNI⚠️
Summary: You have a friends with benefits situation with Eddie but he wants you to admit that he owns you.
Word count 1.8k
*****
"We're just friends, Eddie." you say for what feels like the hundredth time.
There was nothing about your relationship that was just friends. Late night snuggles, constant flirting and touching, Eddie's clothes basically belonged to you at this point. Not to mention the sexual favors. But you were always worried about changing the label to something more. Scared it would mess things up. But Eddie wanted more. And truthfully, so did you.
It had started with a drunken make out session one night, quickly turning to both of you needing more. A month later and you've touched each other in every way possible. Apart from going all the way. But you both wanted it. Needed it.
“Just friends." he scoffs, scooting closer to you on the couch.
"Mhmm.." you hum nonchalantly, keeping your eyes glued to the TV.
"Why won't you just admit that we're more than friends, baby?" he pouts, gripping your chin lightly, forcing your eyes to meet his. Those big brown eyes.
"Do friends do this?" he whispers, leaning in closer, his soft lips pressing against yours.
"Sometimes I kiss Trina when we're drunk." you tease and he chuckles against your lips.
“I'd like to see that." he smirks.
"I bet you would." you giggle and he shakes his wild hair before burying his face in your neck.
"How about this? Do friends do this?" he mumbles, planting wet kisses up and down your neck.
"Hmm.. maybe." you breathe, letting your head fall back to the couch, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips on your skin. Sucking and nipping. Driving you completely insane already.
"You're a brat, you know that?" he grumbles, biting down, his teeth sinking into your neck.
"Mmm, you like me this way." you moan softly as he soothes the bite with his tongue.
You inhale sharply as you feel his hand land on your inner thigh. His fingers graze along your skin until he reaches your already damp panties.
"Friends?" he raises an eyebrow, pushing the thin lace to the side.
You ignore him purposefully, gasping as his thumb meets your clit, adding pressure as he begins to tease you with small circles.
"Eddie.." you whimper, reaching out, gripping the back of his neck so you can pull his lips back to yours.
He moans into the kiss as you roll your hips, working to get his fingers inside of you. His tongue meets yours hungrily as he gives in and glides two fingers into your pussy.
You both pant into each others mouths as he speeds up his fingers, effortlessly bringing you closer to the high you were so desperately aching for.
He pulls away breathless, an immediate cry falling from your lips as soon as he parts.
"So close.. Eds, I'm so close." you whine, nails digging into the back of his neck as he curls his long fingers.
"Do friends do this, baby?" he hums deeply, working with precision, his fingers like fucking magic as he takes you right to the edge.
"N-no." you stammer. Eddie suddenly removes his fingers, leaving you pissed off and pouty.
“Eddie, what the fuck?" you glare at him.
"We're just friends." he chuckles darkly.
"You're impossible." you groan, quickly hiking your skirt up and straddling his lap on the couch.
You bring your arms around his neck, tangling your hands in his brown curls as you lower yourself down and slowly begin to grind. You feel his hard cock beneath you, making sure to grind directly on his dick.
"Don’t be a tease, sweets." he warns.
"I know you want me, Eddie." you purr, keeping your pace, rolling your hips slowly.
"Like.. all of you?" His taunting demeanor has melted into a puddle as you tease him with the one thing he hasn't had yet.
"Mhmm... you want to fuck me, Eds?"
"Y-yes." he stutters, his hands creeping up the back of your thighs, landing on your ass.
"We’re just friends, right?" you tease, adding a little more pressure to his clothed cock.
"Yep. Mhmm.. Just friends. Whatever you say." he blurts out happily, making you smile.
"Good boy." you taunt, watching as Eddie's eyes darken just a bit. His fingertips dig into your skin pulling you down even closer, the thin material of your panties allowing you to feel every curve of his cock.
"Someone's ready for me." you coo, reaching down and stroking him through his jeans. A rumble comes from his throat as you palm every inch of him.
"Are we- are we really gonna fuck?" he asks, excitement clear on his face. His big brown eyes are wide, a little pout on his plump lips as he waits for your answer. His large hands are still groping your ass. You stand up from his lap and slide your underwear off, letting them fall to the floor giving him a little nod.
Eddie grins widely, hurriedly reaching for his belt, unbuckling it with ease before wiggling out of his jeans. You climb back on his lap, keeping your skirt hiked up. You can feel him beneath you. Rock hard. Fucking huge. God, I can't wait to feel him inside of me.
You lean down to kiss him and he stops you suddenly. "I wanna see the girls." he grins crookedly, wiggling his eyebrows.
"You're so stupid." you shove his shoulder playfully as his hands pull at the hem of your shirt. You reach down pulling your Rolling Stones shirt from your frame, tossing it to the side.
Eddie's lips instantly latch onto your nipple making you moan. He brings his hand to your other breast massaging gently, rolling your nipple between his calloused fingers, sending a jolt straight to your pussy. He grabs your boobs, pressing them together as he swirls his tongue across both of your nipples, the throbbing sensation between your thighs growing with every flick.
"You're so perfect." he mumbles lustfully, his mouth exploring every part of your breasts. He takes his teeth, biting down softly, causing a sweet cry to fall from your lips.
You take his face in your hands, kissing him once again. The world seemed to fade away as soon as your lips made contact. It had become your favorite thing. Kissing him. Your tongues dancing together. His taste. The way he couldn't keep his hands to himself. He wanted to explore every inch of you.
You lift slightly, reaching under you, taking his cock in your hand. You keep your lips on his as you glide his head along your wet folds. You wanted to kiss him but you also wanted to hear him. His dirty sounds. You couldn't decide what would be better.
You keep your lips brushing against his as you gently lower yourself down, the feeling of him stretching you out already has your thighs shaking. Both of your lips part simultaneously, a gasp from you, a filthy fucking moan from him as you sink down and he fills you completely.
Your name leaves Eddie's mouth in a raspy moan as you start to roll your hips, feeling him deep inside. "Oh fuck, Eddie.."
“You feel so good.. ride my cock, baby. Just like that." Eddie's words of encouragement and the pure pleasure of him inside of you pushes you to increase your speed, grinding on his huge cock wildly.
You ignore the slight pain from his size, focusing on Eddie. Watching as he falls apart beneath you. His hand suddenly smacks your ass hard, the sting making you yelp.
"God, this pussy. I fucking knew you'd be sweet. So fucking good. So fuckin’ wet." he grunts as his fingertips dig in even deeper, guiding you up and down his length, making you bounce.
"You're.. you're so big." you cry, bouncing wildly, allowing him to enter fully every time, your slick coating every inch of him. Eddie begins to lift his hips, fucking up into you rapidly as you rest your hands on his shoulders. "F-Fuck.. yes.. Eddie!"
“You like that? You like when your friend fucks you?"
You just nod, unable to speak as he drives into you again and again.
"Do you let all your friends fuck you like this?" he taunts, swiftly picking you up, laying you down on the couch, his dick staying buried deep.This new position gives him leverage to really pound into you. His hands rest on either side of your face as he rolls his hips, slamming into you repeatedly, your boobs bouncing with every wild thrust.
You grasp for him, nails digging into his exposed skin, your eyes struggle to stay open as he takes you over and over.
He hooks your leg on his hip, gripping your thigh tightly, holding it in place as you sink deeper into the couch cushions.
"I- oh my god, Eddie!" his name pours from your lips on repeat as your eyes begin to roll.
“Fucking look at you. Mmm.. gonna make you cum all over my cock. You wanna cum, baby?"
You nod, pulling him closer, aiming to get his lips on yours once again. He brings his fingers to your clit, swiping across rapidly, sending your body into a fit. You grip his shoulders, legs wrapped around his waist, doing everything in your power to feel him as close as possible.
"Gonna cum.. cum with me. Eddie, cum inside me." you beg, tears flooding your vision from the immense pleasure.
"You want all your friends to cum inside you? Hmm?" he grunts, every thrust is rougher than before. Deeper. Harder.
“No, Eddie! Only you." you cry.
"I'm gonna fill you with my cum, sweetheart. Like a good friend does." he laughs wickedly, his words pushing you to the brink.
"Please..." you plead, tears streaming down your cheeks from trying to hold back. You want him to cum with you.
"You want me, baby? You want me to cum inside you?" In and out, in and out. He's hitting your sweet spot with every roll of his hips, his fingers never resting, quickly rubbing across your clit.
"Yes! Yes, Eddie please!" you scream, your legs shaking wildly, your back arches off the couch, bodies melding together.
"Tell me that you're mine." he burns.
“I'm yours." you breathe.
"Yeah? All mine? Say it again, sweetheart."
"I'm yours, Eddie! All yours!"
"Cum.. cum for me, baby. Soak my fuckin’ cock.”
You let go completely at his words, feeling the rush as your orgasm floods your body and you flood his cock. His lips are on you, kissing your lips, your cheeks, your neck as you spasm around his cock.
Mumbles of adoration and praise come from his plump lips as he fucks you to your highest peak.
"E-Eddie.." you whimper, still needing to feel him.
"Gonna cum, sweet girl." he hums before his lips land on yours, kissing you deeply as his thrusts get sloppy, wet sounds from your drenched pussy making him moan as he gives a few extra hard thrusts, emptying himself inside of you.
Your heart is pounding in your chest as Eddie continues thrusting slowly. Feeling the warmth of your cum mixed together.
"Yours, Eds. I'm yours." you reassure softly, watching that gorgeous smile spread on his lips.
"Fuck yeah you are." he cheeses, a shit eating grin plastered on his face.
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gamermattsgf · 2 months
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Tokyo drifters // drag racer Chris
Warnings: car sex / tit fuck / cum kink / fingering / cunnalingus / size kink / spit kink / enemies to lovers trope / dangerous driving ig (?) / mentions of smoking and brief mentions of alcohol / praise kink
Summary: what do you get when you cross a competitive drag racer with an equally as competitive opponent? Smoke, engine oil and a whole lot of sexual tension, that’s what.
Author’s notes: and so let the obsession with racer fics begin, but with a Chris flavoured twist. Chris strikes me as the illegal, reckless driver type, hence my modern twist on something very fast and furious-esque. Chris x drag racing actually makes me wet u guys I fucking love it, like- imagine him drifting around in a red Nissan Skyline gtr with his black and white leather jacket on, UGH it really just gets me going…
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“We could do whatever you want, you could fuck me in the back of your car” - HER, Chase Atlantic
The black asphalt glimmers with a coat of wetness and a pattern of oil spillage slicked over the top of it, the technicolour rainbow greased and worming in the fluorescent lights of the street as the heavy hum of revved engines purr in your ears and echo across the emptied roads.
Beer bottles and cans splash here and there on the dripping concrete with discarded cigarette cases and lighters balanced on top of littered leather jackets.
Illegal drag racing. Bets. Stacks of money shoved into the pockets of the driver that is triumphant at the end of the night.
You’re here because this place is rife with the best of the best. The ones who really soak their hands in the leather of their steering wheels, who breathe the musk of their seats, and who burn the rubber marks of their legacies into the very streets that they rocket through each early A.M.
At present you stand to the side of the pavement, smelling the stench of broiling petrol mingled with the scent of flavoured cigarette smoke.
Your eyes survey the various Suzukis, Mustangs and Toyota drifters, all in different colours and all with different painted decals to signify each of the driver’s unique personality, wrinkling your nose at the lack of female drivers leaning against their own cars.
There are plenty of people here.
The rules are simple, you bet on the driver you wager is going to win and then whatever number of votes the driver receives determines their starting position at the beginning of the race.
As your eyes pass over the mingling people chatting in heaped groups with different drivers, you dismally notice the one person who you most definitely did not want to run into tonight. The only other person who can match your speed.
Great. Well that’s just fucking fantastic.
He is on his own. His lanky figure leaning against his electric red Nissan drifter with sleek black wheels and windows, his raven brown hair dusting his face in waving curls as his hands tuck themselves into his black and white leather racer jacket.
A long white cigarette lies perched in between his lips, smoke lazily oozing out from the lit cherry before dispersing into the cool night air in front of him.
He makes no effort to smoke it properly, simply lets it rest in between the purse of his lips whilst he too, observes his competition.
That is, until his eyes trail their way over to you. Now you’re both looking at each other, and he finds it within himself to cockily smirk, your silent rivalry unnoticed by the rest of the bustling audience here to simply bet and watch the race.
You scoff quietly, pushing your feet into a walk, you’ve got to go and talk to him now.
You gradually make your way across the sopping wet tarmac road, heading straight in the direction of the one man who always knows how to rub you the wrong way.
As you go, you fish one of your own cigarettes out of your cigarette case, and then light it. It sparks, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly whilst waiting for you to reach him.
When you do, you stop and nod at him in greeting, mumbling a curt ‘Chris’ after whipping your cigarette from out of your mouth and resting it within your pointer and middle finger.
To contrast your cold behaviour, your arch nemesis tilts his head playfully, his smugness practically oozing from his figure as he retorts with a ‘hey sugar… ready to lose tonight?’. Your nostrils flare.
The only reason you came tonight to race is because you didn’t think Chris would be here.
You fucking hate racing him, in fact, you hate even being within a close proximity to him. He drives you up the wall, irritates you to no end and most importantly- absolutely chokes you with conflicted feelings.
Because how can someone that you hate this much also be someone you feel so irresistibly attracted to?
Chris always finds the most painful of ways to dig under your skin and clamp his claws around you until you’re gasping for air and practically begging to be let free.
Free from the inescapable prison that coaxes you into constantly thinking about him, even when he’s not around.
‘You’re crazy if you think I’m letting you win tonight, that money is mine’ you spit a laugh, before feeding your cigarette into your mouth and inhaling it to calm your nerves. He makes your fingers twitch, and sometimes you’re not sure if it’s because you want to wrap them around his throat or use them to pull his neck down into a kiss.
He raises his eyebrows and starts to once again use the mocking lilt to his tone that you know oh-so-well. ‘Oh really? Because last time I checked I’m pretty sure that money had my name on it’. He readjusts his lean on his red Nissan to make himself seem taller, and you grit your teeth at his teasing antics.
You don’t answer, and instead open you mouth. Chris watches the smoke that you had been holding in your lungs come seductively curling out, and he swallows nervously. It mingles between you two like a barrier of attraction before melting away into the damp air above you as you resume your usual grilling.
‘How’d you even find out about this race anyway? Thought you stayed on the South side?’
Chris shrugs and basks in the obvious annoyance your voice contains. He knows he’s in dangerous territory, this is your side of town, and you know the roads way better than him over here. But then again, when has Chris ever backed down from a challenge?
Plus, he fucking loves teasing you. He gets such a rise out of it every single time, in which case it’s worth hauling his ass all the way over to the other side town just for a race.
Just to see you.
He can’t help it, he just can’t keep himself away.
‘Friend of a friend’ he responds vaguely, before deciding to pluck the almost burnt out cigarette from his lips so that he can thrust it to the floor and crush it underneath his sneaker.
You roll your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. You can’t believe that Chris managed to weasel his way into this race, because it’s definitely going to ruin your chances of going home with that prize money. To say Chris is a reckless driver is an understatement, he’s fucking good, but he also takes risks, risks that bargain with his life and the lives of others, so naturally, when people see his notorious red car pull up to races they panic and stay far behind him.
Not you though.
‘You best count your fucking days Chris because there’s no way in hell I’m letting you win this time…’.
Chris chuckles, his eyes narrowing in a siren-like way before reaching up to your mouth and slowly pulling your cigarette from out of your lips. ‘Yeah…? Well we’ll see about that, won’t we baby cakes?’ he chides, before fully stealing your cigarette and putting it into his own mouth without hesitation.
Your blood boils at his persistence and you spin around in a rage, wishing you could just run him over with your car. At least that would stop the heartbeat from pulsing in between your legs at his weirdly sexual action.
After watching you whisk away, Chris quickly gets into his car and slams his red door closed, satisfied with how flustered you had looked. Revving his engine with a humongous effort to get the race going, he knuckles his leather steering wheel before pulling away from the crowd to let them know that the race will shortly commence.
He is definitely eager to prove you wrong as he observes the way the heavy crowd of people disperse from the middle of the road and let the competitors and their cars through to their designated spots for the countdown.
Engines throttle and rev, starting up and growling like hungry beasts whilst you get into your own car. You then drive to your own assigned spot which had been conveniently placed somewhere in the middle for tonight’s race.
Suddenly, you spot a flash of red roaring up from behind you in your rear view mirror and you resist the roll of your eyes at Chris’ boy racer behaviour.
Chris’ car comes creeping up to level with yours. Slowly, the driver’s window is rolled down and you are faced with his attractive side profile, his nose delicately curving and his jawline popped. Except, now his hair is pulled back by a red bandana, leaving his earrings to glint in the fluorescent artificial light.
He faces forward, but then turns with another smirk plastered to his lips.
You roll your own window down, your engine also screaming to go, but instead of a red colour, your car exudes a violet purple hue, your front and rear lights tinted indigo with plastic filters that make the car in front of you glow a hazy pink.
‘May the best driver win, sugar’
The devil’s smile is concocted between his own teeth, the cheeky glint in his eye echoing the way he mockingly puts his pointer and middle finger up to his forehead to salute you before putting his foot on the gas pedal and roaring ahead to take his privileged place at the front of the line.
᧔♡᧓
Engines growl, their exhaust pipes spitting out puffs of gasoline scented smoke whilst each of the multicoloured cars creep into their places.
An orange car motors past you on your right, and a grey and blue one slides past your left, leaving you in the wet spray that their scuffed tyres kick up, but you’re not paying attention to them.
Craning your neck, your eyes narrow and your jaw grits at the back bumper tail of Chris’ neon red vehicle, the red brake lights glowing like the eyes of a demon as he simply sits stationary.
The city lights glow from the skyscrapers and illuminate the starting route of your racetrack, the wet asphalt making the reflections of the luminescent lampposts shine and bounce about the technicolour array of cars on display.
Chris thinks he’s better than you? Well, you’re just going to have to put that theory to the test then.
You hope that his heart beats just as competitively as yours, his eyes constantly checking for your pink headlights in his rearview mirror.
Finally, reaching into your glove compartment to slide on your black tinted sunglasses, you shut it back up again to listen to the heavily increased revs of car engines. The muffled cheers from the audience provide white background noise whilst the drivers’ exhausts rattle and their pipes growl.
A woman in sky-high stilettos then comes walking into view with a white flag raised above her head.
The crowd suddenly silences, all on the edges of their seats with anticipation.
Without another moment to lose, she quickly swipes down the flag, the white fabric fluttering as she goes before engines shriek and cars jerk forward, each driver putting the pedal to the floor. This forceful way of starting roars the inner workings of their cars whilst they frantically try to switch gears.
Coloured machines weave in and out of each other as the gods of drag racing look down upon the fast-paced urgency of the race, drivers testing one another and pushing their bodies to the limits as they zip and swerve about the road.
You keep your eyes locked upon Chris’ monster of a car though, because it easily pulls out in front and his drive forward quickly clears of any other cars. They just can’t keep up with his intricate drift work and very readily fall behind him.
You’ll admit, his turn of the wheel is masterful and his eye for the surroundings is impeccable as he nearly just shaves around corners and obstacles whilst keeping a steady track of the pathway ahead. However, this only increases your desire to win more.
You find your foot gently feathering upon the accelerator, your car rattling within your ears as the wind from your open window beats against your face and whips your hair around your neck.
You have already overtaken a handful of cars by now, with tyres screeching and smoke exuding from the rubber.
The eyes of every racer competing constantly zip about, just to check for lurking police cruises whilst traveling down the racer’s route through the nearly abandoned city road.
Your beasts for machines rocket past alleyways, giving homeless people a show as your paint jobs flash by their eyes in a juvenile blur.
Gears click as both yourself and Chris constantly press down on the clutch to drift around tight corners, your teeth gritting as you realise that you are now only a few competitive cars behind him.
Chris, meanwhile, frantically looks through his wing mirror to count how many cars lie between yourself and him.
But, then he widens his eyes and has to adjust it in confusion at the infuriating sight of your purple car hightailing it up the road to try and catch him. Already?
This always fucking happens whenever he gets a head start.
He rolls his eyes, stepping on his gas pedal even more to makes his car groan and jerk away on in front once again.
His bandana stays secured onto his head whilst he chews irritably against a fresh toothpick selected from out of his own glove compartment that also contains random junk such as cherry cigarette packets and condoms.
‘Fuckin’ woman’ He spits underneath his breath before aggressively jerking his wheel to the side and rounding another corner perfectly. His car skids and his wheels screech over the asphalt, centimetres away from hitting the curb before he’s straightening his steering wheel up again.
This time though, he can see the finish line in the distance, the small crowd of spectators gathering like little observant ants, watching as his car comes racing towards them from the mist of the city horizon.
However, you come in straight behind him with your engine roaring and your gasoline bubbles popping. Soon, your window reaches his, and you look to your left to see his side profile.
His jaw is clenched with his eyes narrowed and his eyebrows sitting in a glared furrow. His pupils then quickly flit to your car, and you pass each other a challenging look, hate spiralling within your gazes.
And everything is passive between the two of you, that is, until Chris decides to fight dirty.
His lips purse and he yanks his neck to face forward once again, before turning his wheel aggressively. His drifter then swerves near your wheels, nearly knocking you off to the side and sending you skidding into the curb. You frantically have to straighten back up again after only narrowly avoiding the crunch of his front bonnet.
That fucker.
‘HEY!?’
You yell to him with your window down, but he puts his own one up in response, his lips twitching up into a mischievous smile as he tries to tango with you upon the stretch of your own battlefield containing engine oil and concrete road strips.
He goes in for another direct hit, your tyres dangerously close to each other’s as his machinery tries to ram into yours.
Worryingly, you realise that Chris probably isn’t going to stop this dangerous teasing because of his determination to win. So, through your better judgement, you slow yourself and defeatedly allow his cocky red bumper to cut in front of your bonnet.
Chris beats you by a second, his wheels screeching over the pathetic make-shift line drawn in squiggly black graffiti.
You’re practically seething at this point.
After you angrily jerk your steering wheel, your car drifts to the side and it expels hot smoke from the grind it has against your back tyres before coming to a sideways halt.
You put your car in park, take off your seatbelt and speedily open your car door.
As you step out, you see that Chris has also stopped and gotten out himself, his sneakers crunching against the wet tarmac and his leather jacket squeaking whilst he slams his own car door shut behind him.
You clock eyes with each other and immediately find yourself storming up to his victorious figure that yet again leans against his car door suavely.
Whilst making your way over, someone sidles up to him and hands him a thick wad of cash that he stuffs right into his conniving little pockets with a mean smile of his face, aimed directly at you.
As you reach him, you just can’t help yourself, and before you know it you’re knuckling your fists into his leather jacket and yanking him right down to your face. His breath hitches in shock as he sees your lips close enough to claim that you are practically kissing.
Instead of actually kissing him however, you spit out a ‘what the fuck are you playing at?’ with your eyes narrowed and glinting frostily in the city lights.
They travel over his face, scanning him with scepticism whilst little strands of his raven brown hair curl out from the hold of his red bandana, no longer combing the shorter ones back and just letting them freely swish about his eyes in the wind.
‘Listen honey if you want me to pay for any scratches I gave to your paint job no can do, told you that money was mine…-‘ he cheekily retorts, using one of his ridiculously irritating nicknames for you to further worsen your drumming heart beat.
You didn’t realise you had pulled him this close until now.
This makes your nostrils flare with anger and you quickly release him, seemingly in denial of your own feelings as you listening to the way the zips of his leather jacket jingle at the force of your strength.
You scoff, sticking your nose up and further voicing your discontent at him.
‘Chris- you fucking cheated?!’ You shout with a small laugh in disbelief, your arms crossed over your chest as you refer to his illegal drag collision.
‘No proof? Didn’t happen, sweetheart’ he sassily bites back at you, which makes you falter, but your glare only harshens after he immaturely pokes the centre of your chest.
Does this man just make it his mission to piss you off as much as humanly possible?
Both of you maintain tense eye contact, your chest heaving whilst Chris’ eyes subtly flick downwards to soak in the look of your body.
As more coloured drifters cruise past the finish line, the silence gets awkward, awkward enough for you to spontaneously shouts a shaky ‘I want a fucking rematch!’, not really sure what provoked you to voice this random request. Usually, you couldn’t bear to be around Chris for more than 5 seconds at a time.
So why did you all of a sudden have the urge to be alone with him?
The way you look at him prompts Chris to suspect that this request probably isn’t just about having a rematch, that in fact it’s something much deeper… what that is, he doesn’t know yet, but he’s prepared to find out.
Clearing his throat, he slips a box of cherry scented cigarettes from out of his leather jacket whilst looking around wearily. You swallow, and watch him in silence as he puts one into his mouth and flicks on his lighter. Holding it up to the cherry, it sparks, and a small wisp of smoke puffs out from his pursed mouth.
He opens the door of his Nissan once again before sliding inside.
The scent of maraschino cherries diffuses across his ride and melts into the white leather seats as he shuts his door before using his hand to turn on the ignition. Then, he rolls down his window to thankfully still see you standing there expectantly and waiting for an answer.
Chris simply sits back in his seat, watching the wind comb through your hair as sickly sweet cherry flavoured smoke finds its way up into your nose.
‘Well?’ You raise your eyebrows and snap at him, your hip cocking sassily. But even though your exterior front looks confident, your insides panic and your mouth becomes dry at the very much tangible sexual tension within the air.
Chris looks forward for a second, leaving the both of you in silence once again so that you can take in the far away laughs and clinks of beer bottles from the left over straggling gamblers that are now only talking about Chris.
He squints his eyes with his cigarette still in his mouth, deep in thought, before crinkling his nose and sniffing, reaching his hand out to twist the keys of his car in the ignition properly. His car rumbles to life as he takes out his cigarette, resting it in between his two fingertips.
That arm decides to leans itself on the car door as his wrist and hand dangle out of the window.
‘Meet me at Carolina Point at 3am’
He mumbles to you, as if not wanting anyone else to know about this secret little rendezvous before he’s pushing down the handbrake of his car and it’s lunging forward.
He motors away with a singular hand gripping the steering wheel, turning it smoothly and leaving you with the remnants of his car exhaust fumes, his cherry cigarette butts and the smell of his black and white leather jacket.
᧔♡᧓
It’s 3am.
And music quietly hums from your radio as you pull up next to Chris’ parked car, the glittering red paint job a flashy eyesore when matched with the dark background of the skyline.
Carolina point overlooks a section of the city that is well known by racers like him and yourself and so it provides a nice backdrop for the strange meeting that you two are about to have. Chris sits on the bonnet of his car, looking down to the veins of his city before twisting his neck to observe the way you get out of your own car.
A small smile ticks at the side of his lips before he quickly wipes it away and stands up from his bonnet, the machinery creaking and the suspension bouncing upwards after being released from his weight.
‘Surprised you came’ he muses, before spitting the old toothpick from in between his lips into the long grass.
You roll your eyes and meet him halfway, already nervous about being alone with him in such a close proximity, especially after what had already unfolded between you two beforehand.
‘Course I did, you cheated’ you muse spitefully, and stop right in front of his taller frame. But Chris edges a little bit closer after you had come to a halt, which makes your palms sweat.
You try to keep your composure, fully intent on getting on with the business of the rematch you had wanted, until you fail when you physically watch the way Chris’ eyes dilated at the sight of you.
It makes you nervous to see his body react to you in such a way, and that nervousness only gets worse after he intentionally lowers his voice to purr a quiet ‘oh yeah? An’ how are we gonna fix that hm?’. His head tilts and his tone is as smooth as caramel, the tease almost belittling in manner.
Your chest expands with a stuttering deep breath, the smell of cherries tart on his tongue and overwhelming as the scent stains his jacket too.
Your heart quickens in pace the closer Chris’ head gets to yours, but you don’t move back, even though every siren in your body imaginable screams that this is so terribly fucking wrong.
You blink up at him, almost forgetting why you’re supposed to be here before dumbly stuttering ‘b-by having a rematch…’.
Chris looks at you so hungrily… so primally, and you hardly even get the time to finish your sentence before your mouth is being engulfed by his. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, and neither do you.
His lips are soft and buttery as they rub against yours, your whole entire body stiff and your eyes wide, before you ever so slowly melt into his embrace.
Chris utters a quiet whimper of content and the noise almost makes you squeeze your thighs together. You didn’t even realise Chris was capable of making a noise like that.
Your lips smack together after Chris pulls away, saliva wetting the moist pink skin.
You’re trapped within a daze, utterly stunned and drunk on the taste of his mouth. Chris’ eyelashes feather, and he bites his lip in nervousness, testing the waters of what he’s just done to you. But you look as though you’re absolutely enamoured by it and so he grins in satisfaction.
He goes back again, this time more aggressively, to suck and pull on your lips, and you freely let him, not a single thought behind your eyes apart from the way his teeth pull on your flesh.
‘I- I want a rematch’
Chris pulls away just once for you to voice this timid defiance, however his only thought is concerned with how deliciously red and juicy your lips look. He acknowledges you only by dipping back in and pressing another soft kiss to your peachy pillows, humming a little ‘mhm’ in agreement but also not really listening to you as his face twists and his nose brushes against yours.
The wet sound of his lips sucking your plumper ones into his mouth makes your panties dampen.
‘What if I wanna make it up to you in some other way?’ He daringly mumbles against your lips which wets the skin even around them with his saliva. The arch of your back is subtle, but it’s still fully there as you weight up the pros and cons of this situation. But really… are there any cons aside from the afterthought of knowing that you let your sworn enemy touch your body in the most intimate of places?
At the present, it seems like such a small price to pay within the delusion of your lust. And Chris’ hands already feel just so magical when their big impressions carve their way down your waistline, sliding over the bumps of your hips.
Fuck they’re huge in comparison to yours. And that thought alone makes you wet, your folds becoming even slicker at the motion of Chris using his hands to force you up against the hard side of his car.
The metal and glass behind your back makes you shiver and the machinery is freezing cold in the already frosted mountainous air of Carolina point.
This cold suddenly brings you clarity, and for a second you have to fully stop and pull away from his intoxicating tongue, just so you can voice a stupid ‘wait- what are we doing…?’.
Your mind goes reeling and your eyes look like saucers when remembering just who you are kissing… and who is pushing you up against his car.
Your chest heaves and your voice sounds fully strangled, the vision of making out with Chris plaguing your mind and turning it rotten.
But Chris only gazes at you, understanding how weird this must feel, because it feels weird to him too. However he can’t help it, one taste was enough for him and now he’s hooked.
He pushes back into you with haste, his thick hips greedily pinning you to the side of his car as he groans an ‘ugh- fuck it, who even cares anymore?’.
It’s almost like he’s jointly voicing this to his own self control, because he then allows himself to messily paw at the side of his vehicle, frantically looking for the door handle to his back seat whilst fully enthralling himself within your kissing lips.
Your tongues twist, and it’s messy, but you love it just the same. Especially after feeling Chris beneath his baggy black jeans, thick and throbbing for you when he moans in approval at the touch of the door handle.
He curls his fingers into it and yanks it open, the suctioning sound of the door making your heart gallop tenfold because of the connotations that come with Chris forcefully pushing you into the backseat of his car.
Are you two really about to do this? What even happened to get you to this stage?
It all seems like such a blur now, the spontaneity of your actions helping to numb the idea of regret. An idea that you know you’re defintely going to feel in the morning.
But not tonight… tonight is about wandering hands and careless affections, between two people who just so happen to supposedly ‘hate’ each other.
He grabs you with a growled laugh of ‘c’mere’, his large palms splaying underneath your thighs as he hoists you into his arms and walks you around the sharp edges of his red door.
Practically throwing you inside, he’s eager to clamber in himself and restart his torturous decent of your luscious neck skin.
So he does, and he slams the door behind him whilst doing so.
Meanwhile, you spread your legs to let him into you, your ass sinking into the plush white leather of his seats as your back comes to rest against the opposite side door.
Now you’re seeing a completely different Chris, that hovers over you and gives you that toe curling gaze he’s perfected over the many months of first competing with you.
The gaze is reminiscent of the first time you two ever raced together, with a hint of attraction and chemistry there, until you started to hate each other as soon as it became more of a competition to see which one was better.
This Chris is so astronomically different in comparison to the one you had grown to absolutely despise, the two of you stuck in this viciously competitive cycle of building up tension after tension until all of it just burst and ended up with Chris’ head right in between your legs.
He yanks off every single article of clothing wrapped around your lower half, trying to resist the urge of snapping open your underwear and making a mess of the delicate red lace as soon as he sees it.
Fuck. You’re even wearing his racing colours.
‘These for me?’ He teases and raises his eyebrows whilst simultaneously slipping off your panties and lifting them to the side of his face.
Without knowing any better, you smirk and nod, guessing that it’ll drive his narcissism absolutely crazy. And you’re right. Because soon after, he scrunches up the soaked panties into his fist and throws them up to the front of the car. They messily then land on the dashboard.
He smirks down at your shining red cunt, wet stickiness practically drooling from out of your hole already.
‘Imma drive with your panties on the dashboard all the way home so that anyone who seems them will know how good I fucked this pretty little pussy…’
You swallow a pant at his crude language, not being able to help the shake of your hands or the blink of your eyes. ‘Do it… for me?’ You coquettishly breathe back, and it only drives Chris up the wall further. With this being said, he obeys and darts his head down to your centre, wasting no time in peppering small suctioned kisses against your inner thighs.
They quiver as soon as his face gets closer to your centre, and you know he’s just about to put his tongue on you because he smirks, gearing up to say another filthy thing.
‘M’sorry I cheated baby’ he pouts boyishly, before giving your clit an open-mouthed kiss.
You whine and buck your hips up into the firm hold of his rough hands, that have slid around to force you down and keep you from squirming away at his stimulation. ‘Forgive me?’ He speaks with his head tilted. Then a thick globule of spit comes tumbling from his mouth to plink onto your throbbing heat.
It greedily rolls down your pinkness and Chris goes in for another heavy kiss, this time closing his eyes to eat you like his life depended on it, licking around you clit and even dipping himself into your hole. He’s not sure when he’ll next get the chance to fuck you like this and so savours it with as much fever as he possibly can.
All the while, you lie with your back propped up against the opposite door, looking down at him with your calves smoothly slung around his shoulders.
You hypnotically watch how your thighs twitch at every opportunity Chris gives you, his tongue rolling over several pleasure points in an effort to get you to come.
‘Mmm-okay’ you moan before bitting your hand and mumbling through your teeth ‘I forgive you, please- please just let me cum’.
He had been savouring this for a while now, leisurely dipping his tongue in and out of you whenever he felt like it as he pressed his other palm over the thick bulge in his jeans, trying to suppress its ache by kneading it downwards and squeezing himself.
He struggles not to openly thrust his hips into his hand at the tiny whimpers you make, because you sound so pretty trying to reach your high.
He sighs before giving you one last rolling kiss. ‘I guess that’s only fair, alright I’ll let you cum sweetheart’.
Straight after he says this you let out a heaved ‘Jesus Christ!’, your cry brandishing tears within your eyes as one of Chris’ long fingers unexpectedly slide right up into your throbbing cunt, your precome already acting as natural lubricant to coat his skin.
It’s almost mouthwatering how good it feels, for both you and Chris. His finger seems to fit in there perfectly, and so he adds another, stroking your walls and curling them upwards delicately.
‘Can you fit three in there baby…? Please let me put three in… you look pretty when you’re drooling for my fingers’ he whines, his voice high pitched and begging for you to allow him the pleasure of three.
‘Fuck- yes, please, please put three in. I can handle it!’ You moan in desperation, not really knowing what to do with your hands, so one feeds itself into his luscious brown locks whilst the other one curls around the white leather headrest of the back seat you’re sitting on.
You white knuckle it when Chris effortlessly coos ‘there’s a good girl… gonna make you feel so good’ whilst inserting his third finger, its length making your back arch and the windows of the car fog up.
‘Look at you… fucking up the back of my car, needy girl’ Chris muses whilst observing the way some of your wetness leaks out and blobs onto his nice white leather seats, the condensation of your horny breath staining the windows and your hand practically clawing at his headrest whilst his fingers work inside of you.
‘S-shut up. You wreck the outside of my car, I’ll wreck the inside of yours’ you bite back sassily, your whole entire chin tipping back in ecstasy as you feel your orgasm clawing beneath the lining of your gut.
Chris’ fingers speed their pace at this, and the squelch of them working past your screaming orgasm nearly makes him cum all over himself within his pants, especially after hearing your continuous moan at the motion his harsh fingertip thrusts.
After you calm, you careen forward to grip onto the wrist of his hand, tapping out immediately in overstimulation. He pulls his sopping wet fingers from out of your core and then lollipops them into his mouth.
As you sit there and regain your breath, your cheeks redden impossibly further at Chris’ quipped demand of ‘take off your top’, still with his fingers bitten in between his teeth.
You do as he says, watching him pull his hand back out of his mouth with hooded eyes as you peel off the tight fabric.
He doesn’t even have to tell you to take off your bra either, you just do it, giving him the gorgeous sight of your tits resting on your chest.
‘This good enough for you?’ you tease, letting one of the straps from your bra slide down your pointer finger before tossing it next to your already discarded panties that sit upon his dashboard.
Chris blinks at your devilish action in shock, before putting a smirk back onto his handsome face.
‘Oh I am going to fuckin’ destroy you’ he cackles playfully, before curling his hands around the backs of your thighs and pulling your body to lay down horizontally.
You gulp as you tilt your chin upwards, watching the way he pulls his jeans and his underwear down with his gleaming cock springing up to hit his lower abdomen.
Licking your lips, you have to squeeze your thighs together at the sight of it as he then turns towards you and advances forward, with his lower half bare and his racer jacket and black t-shirt still in tact over his top half.
His pulsing cock stands on end, and he bites his bottom lip whilst clambering over your thighs to get to your stomach, much to your utter confusion.
That is, until you realise why he asked you to take your top off in the first place.
Planting his knees on either side of your underarms, they sink into his plush leather as he towers over you, grinning at your heaving chest. From his height advantage, he gathers a jewel of spit into his mouth and tips his head forward, allowing it to ooze outwards and splash against the valley in between your tits.
You swallow at this, watching as he then shuffles downwards and leans the head of his dripping prick onto the puddle of saliva he had created.
‘Push your pretty tits together sugar’.
Now when using this nickname, it sounds sickly sweet instead of full of malice, coated with a thin layer of cherry sauce as his cheeky grin perfectly mirrors the cheeky action of him using his hands to help you squeeze the sides of your tits together.
Your skin feels sticky with Chris’ spit and Chris lets out the ungodliest of groans when pushing his tip forcefully into the crack between them.
You hiss in pain at the feeling of Chris’ cock wedged against your tits, but bite your lip and ignore it in favour of watching the way he fucks his hips into them.
His pink head disappears in and out of the top opening and he has to fall forward and grip his hands onto the door to keep himself steady. He ruts himself faster with the added security and his car begins to shake at the aggressive motion.
He had done the majority of building up his orgasm whilst eating you out, so now all he had to do was finish it off, and what better way to do that than with his cock buried in between your tits?
‘Fuck Chris-’ you mumble with your mouth dropped open and your eyes glued to the way small drips of precum already leak out from his cock onto the flushed skin of your chest.
‘Ugh- I’m… I’m cumming- fuck- open your m-mouth’ Chris moans into the air, squeezing his eyes shut as the elastic band of his orgasm snaps and forces cum to come squirting out of his head, some of the sticky white liquid coating your chest, but the other half of it finding its way into your open mouth.
You wait for Chris to milk himself dry, your tongue still out expectantly, until he sees that you’re wanting permission to swallow it.
To help you, he reaches out one of his tremouring fingertips to gather up the cum smeared over your chin, then he slides them into your mouth.
You suck on them, swallowing all of what he has to give you with a tired but appreciative hum as he looks down at you with glassy eyes of complacency.
What the fuck just happened between you two… and why did he feel like he wanted to do it all over again?
᧔♡᧓
‘You still really not gonna pay for any of the scrapes you gave my car huh?’ You speak up into the awkward silence as Chris shuts the back door of his Nissan, leaving the smell of sex to permeate within his car.
He lights one of his cigarettes and snorts, trudging his way around to the front of his car before yanking the door open, your bra and panties still resting on the dashboard and yourself still very much naked underneath your regular clothes.
‘In your dreams sugar’.
There’s another silence as the two of you just look at each other, not knowing if whether or not you’ll ever see each other in that kind of vulnerable light again.
One thing is for sure though, no one can ever know about what happened here tonight.
Chris looks almost hesitant to go with his face softening and smoke tumbling from out of the red cherry of his cigarette. He blinks to snap himself out of it though.
‘Cya at the next race baby…’
He tips his head and then slides down into his car as you look at him wantonly.
‘Yeah… cya’.
᧔♡᧓
Author’s notes p.2: hot. RIVAL RACERS AND ENEMIES TO LOVERS TROPE OH YEAHHH. This is defintely the longest fucking thing I’ve done so I apologise for that lol. And I’m also equally sorry for the ridiculously long wait omg, I’ve been hyping this up too much so I’m sorry if it’s not that great bc most of it was written on major sleep deprivation haha. Also guysss exciting stuff is happening as I’m almost at 2,000 followers and me and @luv4kozume have got something really fun planned for us both hitting 2k!!
Taglist: @luverboychris @lovingmattysposts @luvmila444 @luv4kozume @stursweet @strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @thesturniolos @sturniolosreads @vecnasnose0 @meanttomeet @ellie-luvsfics @matthemunch @mattsleftnipple03 @robins-scoop @asturniolos @imwetforyourmom @nicksmainbitch @sturnioloenthusiast @breeloveschris @kvtie444 @rootbeerworshiper @chr1sgirl4life @hrt-attack @gigisworldsstuff @stargirlsturniololover @imlidewwallyhittingdagwiddy @sturniololoverr @jahlisa22 @bernardsgf @luvasr @meg-sturniolo @blahbel668 @liz-stxrn @sturnreblog @ratatioulle @isabellehoran @1800chokedathoe @sturnsmadl @sturniolossmut @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattswifey00 @sturniolowhore @skadltmf @sturniolosstar @luvsturns @mattestrella @hearts4chriss @orangeypepsi
1K notes · View notes
ponderingmoonlight · 3 months
Text
JJK men with a small-chested reader
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Pairings: Toji x reader; Gojo x reader; Choso x reader; Nanami x reader; Sukuna x reader; Geto x reader
Word Count: 4,5k
Warnings: this is LONG so get seated; reader gets confronted with hate regarding small boobs so if that's not for you don't read, also this implies JJK men are into small boobs so if that triggers you don't read, smut mentioned in Toji's & Nanami's part, abusive ex relationship in Nanami's part, Gojo is a dick in Geto's part and in general I feel like this one isn't that great so sorry for all my Geto lovers out there I'm tired
Click here for the big-chested version
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Toji Fushiguro
You can’t help but let yourself fall into his rough touch, enjoy the sensation of his body pressed against yours. How you ended up here? You couldn’t care less. Is it pretty bad to be minutes away from getting laid by your enemy? Maybe, but you don’t give a damn.
Until his hand yanks towards your breasts.
“N-No. Stop”, you whimper, pushing against his broad shoulders to get him off you.
“C’mon, what’s wrong babe? Don’t ya enjoy yourself?”, he purrs against your ear.
Oh god, just the sound of his deep voice lets your mind wander to places where it hasn’t been for ages, makes you arche your body towards him like a needy teenager.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
But just when he’s about to stretch his hand towards your chest again, you lift yourself off the couch so suddenly that you almost fall over. No, you just can’t do this.
Automatically, you cross your arms in front of your chest, eyes gazing down at the nothingness you hold. Since you can remember, you’ve got picked on for having small boobs. Oh, how desperately you waited throughout whole puberty for them to finally grow, how much you secretly begged for those delicious female curves you’ve seen all over media and anime. But every time you look into the mirror, you are greeted by basically nothing. If a man like Toji would see you like this. God, if he only touches your breast and realizes that your décolleté comes from nothing but a push up bra…
It’s impossible for a man like him to find a woman like you attractive. Why were you even stupid enough to consider a one-night stand with him, when looks are the only thing that really counts? If he sees you’ve been lying into his face, that you don’t look like those girls on magazines…
Would he make fun of you? The disappointed look on his face as soon as he unclips your bra would be too much to handle alone.
“I can’t do this. Sorry”, you mumble, fingers frantically straighten your clothes.
Just forget about what happened today. Get home, take off your bra and stare at the ceiling. You don’t need a man to satisfy your needs anyway…right?
He grabs you by your waist so suddenly that you aren’t even able to react when his other hand unclips your bra and pulls up your shirt.
You fail to breathe, glossy eyes staring into his unbothered face in sheer disbelief. Did that man just expose your whole chest within the blink of a second?
“Why are you actin’ all shy, huh? Those are some nice tits”, he speaks out with a sly grin.
“I…”
You are lost at words, lost at thoughts, lost at sight. This man is walking sex himself. Damn, he could probably pull any girl on this planet. But no, he decided to get into your apartment and he just said that…Your breasts look good?
“Fuck, I’ve been waiting all day for that”, he signs.
His usual so rough fingers cup your breasts gently, swallow them whole with ease. Toji’s eyes are completely fixated on the sensation between his fingertips, how your warm flesh feels against his palms.
“I thought you…you aren’t into…small boobs”, you moan, closing your embarrassed eyes to shield yourself from his intense stare.
“I’m a man of culture”, he comments.
Oh, you can tell he’s grinning like he always does. Slowly but surely everything seems to fade away. All the dumb comments about your body, all the times you looked into the mirror and blankly stared at your flat chest. No, everything that counts now is that the force of a man standing in front of you clearly enjoys your sight, that your boobs alone are enough bring a grown man onto his knees, to make him whimper against your heated skin and the bulge in his pants grow with every second.
“Fuck, I need ya”, he hisses.
Toji pully your top over your head before you’re even able to think straight. There he stands, his hand unzipping his pants in slow motion while you gaze up at him panting like a dog.
“I’ll show you how much I’m into you, babe…”
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Gojo Satoru
You look yourself up and down in the mirror, mind raising. It’s your third date with none other than the Satoru Gojo. The men who turns women’s heads on a regular basis, the men who invited you into the most exquisite restaurant of the city, the man who even sent you a dress for the occasion. A jaw-dropping gorgeous black dress with a delicate waterfall neckline, just the right fit for a man like him.
But not with your flat chest. The fabric seems to hang on your body like a potato sack, filled by nothing but thin air. And because of the cursed deep back, you aren’t even able to wear a push up bra underneath. Fuck, what are you supposed to do? The more you stare at yourself in the mirror, the worse it seems to fit. Satoru chose this dress only for you. There’s absolutely no way in hell you’ll wear something else, that you disappoint him like that. But do you have another option?
You let yourself fall onto your bed, eyes darting to your phone. Shit, you have only 10 more minutes left before he gets her. How are you supposed to fix this? Will Satoru be disappointed? You never wore tight or unflattering clothes around him before, always hid your smaller chest well behind casual sweatshirts or push up bras. But this…You aren’t able to hide anything in this.
Will be there in 5. Can’t wait to see you in that dress <3
Oh god, you feel like throwing up when reading his message. Everything went so well between the both of you, so unproblematic and genuinely fine. But are you even good enough for Satoru Gojo when he’s surrounded by so many beautiful women? Your hands wander up your stomach, come to a stand on your chest. No, you definitely can’t keep up with Mei Mei and the others. Will he lose interest in you after tonight? Will his facial expression drop the second he lays eyes on you in that dress?
Your palms get sweaty, mind overwhelmed by all those venomous thoughts.
“Fuck, don’t cry”, you hiss to yourself, angrily blinking into the mirror.
The doorbell rings.
Your heart drops.
Shit.
Didn’t he say 10 minutes?
Your feet carry you to your front door automatically, the tall frame of none other than Satoru clearly visible outside. No, why is he here? You didn’t have enough time to think about a solution, didn’t even try on that sticky bra you’ve bought a few months ago-
He rings again. There is no way of out this now. Like in slow motion, your shaky hand presses down the door handle, exposes yourself further and further to Satoru.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, (y/n)”, Satoru comments jokingly.
Hot tears slowly but surely start to take your sight while you stand there like an idiot, covering your chest with your arms. This will be the moment Satoru realizes you aren’t playing in his league, that he can do so much better. What was he thinking anyway, starting to date a girl like you?
“You look absolutely hot in that dress. Oh my god…”, he breathes out.
“Don’t lie to me”, you mumble.
No, you can’t take it. With a swift motion you turn yourself away from his gaze, away from his presence.
“What? I would never lie to you! Hey, are you cryin’? (y/n), look at me.”
Gently, he cups your face with both of his hands, forces you to get lost in the blue ocean of his eyes.
“I’m not doing justice to the dress you’ve gifted me”, you breathe out.
Satoru has to blink a few times, mind trying to process what the hell you are talking about. The minute you opened the door earlier, he was lost. You looked exactly how he imagined, so well-fitted into that black dress, your curves so delicious that it takes all his strength to keep his composure.
“You’re the hottest girl I’ve ever seen and I’m serious about that. Why would you think something so ridiculous? Look at your-“
“I’m flat”, you finally snap.
“Flat?”, he repeats in disbelief.
“Flat like a pancake. Flat like a board. I…I have nothing!”, you blurt out.
Satoru can’t believe his ears, has to stare at you in sheer disbelief for a moment. Is this why you’re crying, why you’re crossing your arms in front of your chest like that? Because you think that…your breasts are too small?
“C’mon, you can’t be serious about that.”
He desperately waits for a reaction, for a cute little giggle coming out of your mouth and this being nothing but a prank. But instead, you just stand there in silence and hide yourself even more.
“Okay, let me get that straight: You.Look.Gorgeous. I can’t stop fucking looking at you, that dress fits you so well and when I saw that neckline for the first time…I’m only saying this before you force me to, okay? I’m thirsting over you like a teenager, (y/n)! And I adore every inch of your body, I adore the way your tits look.”
“Stop”, you mumble, his words making shivers run down your spine.
“I won’t stop until you say it.”
“Say what?”, you question, confusion written on your face.
“Repeat after me: I have nice tits.”
Is he serious? You drop your arms to the side, completely bamboozled by the Satoru Gojo in front of you.
“Let’s do it, (y/n)!”
“I have…nice tits”, you breathe out.
“I can’t hear you”, he shouts.
Gently, he grabs your shoulders and shakes you a little. What the hell is going on right now? His smile seems contagious, makes the corners of your mouth turn upwards just the slightest bit.
“I have small tits”, you giggle out.
“NO!”, he screams.
“I have nice tits!”
“I have nice tits”, you shout back.
“Yes, now…Can I touch them?”
“Let’s get going, okay?”, you mutter, head red like a tomato.
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Choso Kamo
“What are you doing, (y/n)?”
A high shriek escapes your lips when you look at Choso standing in the door. Fuck, what the hell is this guy doing here while you tried on that bikini you’ve bought earlier?
“Oh, that looks good”, he comments and nods towards your chest.
God, you feel like fainting. Out of all people, why does it have to be Choso standing there? And why do you feel so damn insecure all of the sudden? It’s not a secret to anyone at Jujutsu High that you have a huge crush on Yuji’s bigger brother, that you can’t take your eyes off him. And while you feel pretty comfortable in your own skin, there is this one thing that makes you trip over and over again…
Your breasts.
You didn’t even notice until your female friends began to comment on the size of your boobs when you changed for sport lessons.
“You look like a child, (y/n)!”
“Omg, are you sure that’s normal?”
“You’re a board with nipples…”
“I’m so sorry for you, (y/n)! After all, all boys are into big tits these days! Well, at least you have a good character.”
And still, you didn’t even care that much. But now, with Choso Kamo standing in front of you while you wear nothing but a bikini top instead of your oversized uniform, you feel trapped.
“Well, thanks I guess”, you mumble, cheeks heating up in an instant.
He steps a little closer, eyes narrowed. Oh god, when is this finally over?
“Why are you looking so uncomfortable?”
“Well, maybe because I’m half naked-“
“I can tell it’s not because of that. Are you insecure?”
Fuck, this man reads you like an open book without mercy. For an incarnated curse, he’s way too emphatic.
“I wouldn’t say it like that but…I mean, look at me.”
“Is it because your breasts are smaller than those of the other female members of Jujutsu High? This doesn’t seem like an issue to me at all, (y/n). After all, breasts are mostly made of adipose tissue. Depending on your fat storage and how your body-“
“Oh god, please stop right now”, you interrupt him.
May the ground swallow you whole and keep you. How on earth did you get into a serious talk about your small chest with none other than Choso Kamo? And why does he know all those things about how women’s breast work?
“You seem to know quite a lot about women’s boobs. Did you study them or something?”
Why does your heart suddenly feel so heavy? It shouldn’t bother you that he talked about those things as if he looks at other women’s tits on a regular basis. But…You fell for him because he seemed like a guy who doesn’t care about those things. Were you mistaken about him?
“Not at all! But I overheard you talking to that other woman about the size of your breast and that you don’t feel comfortable about them, so I did research about this topic.”
Oh. Your heart stops beating for a second, your mind going blank. He did research because he overheard your conversation with Shoko?
“You did that…for me?”
“You’re important to me and I don’t want you to feel sad about something minor like this, (y/n).”
You stare at him like an idiot, still only covered only by a bikini top while all he does his holding your gaze in silence.
“What I want to say is that…You are absolutely beautiful. And so are your breasts-”
“Okay, this is getting a little out of hand. Would you mind if I…Change into something a little more modest?”, you interrupt him before you lose your composure completely.
“Of course!”
Choso doesn’t move. Instead, he just stands there like before and looks at you.
“Would you…Get out so I can change?”
“Oh…Yes, of course.”
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Nanami Kento
You can’t help but stare at him through the dim moonlight, hands wrapped around his neck. Oh, he sure feels good pressed against your body so tenderly, his breath caressing your cheek ever so slightly. Kento and you have been together for a few months now, taking things slow since your last relationship was like a trip to hell and back. And even though you are fully aware of the fact that Kento would never treat you badly, you still need time for certain things.
And these certain things contain him seeing you naked. Just one glance into the mirror is hard to bear, especially when it comes to your small chest. You simply hate the way they look, how they ruin every single outfit, how they make you look like a child. No matter what gorgeous gown you’re wearing, you never feel like a woman, like someone worth to be looked at. But still, Kento caresses every curve of your still dressed body carefully.
“You look absolutely stunning in moonlight, darling”, he hushes against your ear.
You love this man with all your heart. How he treats you with way more kindness than a single human would ever deserve, how he makes you feel good about yourself without even knowing. Kento Nanami picks up the pieces of your past and puts you back together like a complicated puzzle. Slowly and steady, step by step.
A whimper escapes your lips, the sensation of his fingertips brushing against your covered skin simply drives you insane. Oh, how much you adore that man, how much you admire him for making you feel so alive. Suddenly his plain touch doesn’t feel like enough anymore. You need him even closer, want to feel him even better.
“Please, take this off”, you mumble against his lips.
Kento stops in his tracks for a second, eyes staring at you intensively in your dark bedroom.
“Are you sure? I told you I can wait”, he reminds you gently while pulling a strand of hair behind your ear.
Are you sure? You didn’t let a man touch you after your ex, after all those nasty things he said about your body. Especially your small chest.
“Don’t you wanna get these things…y’know, fixed or something?”
“Leave your shirt on or I’ll turn off the light, these things turn me off...”
You hate how his stupid comments still haunt you even after all those years, despite the fact that you’re laying in the arms of none other than the epitome of a gentleman. Until today, you never allowed your boyfriend to take off your shirt, to even take a single glance in the direction of your exposed chest. But today feels different. With his eyes filled with nothing but affection, you finally feel ready.
“I don’t want you to wait. Please, take off my shirt”, you whisper into the night.
“Tell me to stop when you feel uncomfortable.”
You nod slightly, too occupied by the way his hands carefully wander down to the hem of your shirt, eyes fixated on yours. Your heartbeat picks up in an instant. Out of excitement, out of fear? You glance into his gleaming orbs that are filled with nothing but love. No, you don’t have to fear this man. But still…Will he like what he sees?
“You know I don’t have…I don’t have nice boobs. They are quite small…”, you suddenly blurt out.
“(y/n), you are the love of my life, my precious girlfriend. Every fiber of your being is way more than ‘nice’. I adore every inch of your gorgeous body”, he replies so softly that you feel like tearing up.
As if in slow motion he pulls up your shirt, reveals inch by inch of your naked skin until he pulls the fabric over your head.
You take a deep breath, try to read his face in the dim light. Is he disgusted, does he even look at you? Maybe he’s regretting his decision, maybe he finds you just as ugly as your ex did-
“You are so beautiful, I can’t take my eyes off you”, he hushes.
Kento Nanami stops your train of thoughts before you get lost in yourself, quiets the stinging voice of your ex-boyfriend inside your head.
Kento thinks you’re beautiful. Kento’s hand caresses your naked skin, gently cups your breast while he never fails to gaze at you.
“I love you, (y/n). In fact, I am the one lucky to have you. Thank you for putting your trust and love in me.”
“You…I love you so much, Kento.”
You can’t contain yourself any longer. Without hesitation, you pull your boyfriend’s face even closer, press your desperate lips against his. What a treasure he is, lifting you up without even realizing how much his words heal your soul.
If a man like Kento Nanami is able to love your small breasts than maybe, just maybe, you’ll start doing that as well.
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Ryomen Sukuna
“There’s no way in hell”, you press out, groaning in scorching pain.
“Do you have a death wish or are you just dumb, woman? You know you’ll die if you don’t take off that uniform, right?”, Sukuna remarks dryly.
“I would rather die than taking off my shirt in front of…you”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
Sukuna can’t help but stare at you in sheer disbelief. Surprisingly enough, he decided to save your ass instead of using his time more efficiently. And now you’re laying in front of him, a gaping hole inside your chest, he offered to save your life.
And you, dumbass of the century, refuse to get saved by none other than the king of curses himself.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Do you really wish to die so badly?”
“I…I don’t want to die!”, you blurt out.
Fuck, how did you get yourself into that situation? Bad enough that you’ve got hit by that curse right into your chest, even worse that the king of curses himself appeared and wants to help you. But the worst thing is that you need to take your shirt off.
It is ridiculous and you know it. This is not the time to be insecure about your small tits. No, this is absolutely not the time to even think about shit like that. But the sheer thought of Ryomen Sukuna seeing your flat chest alone makes you rather die than letting that happen. No, the last thing you want is him making fun of you.
“Then why are you acting like a child? Hold still. You strange human, I should kill you right on the spot. Good for you I still have use for someone this skilled. You impressed me earlier.”
Under normal conditions, you’d feel some kind of pride over his words. But with death whispering in your ear and the stinging fact that his hands begin to bottom up your shirt….
You freak out.
“GET YOURSELF AWAY FROM ME!”, you scream pathetically, hands fighting so poorly against his that he catches your flying fists mid-air.
“Stop beating me before I’m losing it, brat”, he barks at you.
Just one more button. One more button and you’ll be completely exposed to him. The king of curses, seeing your small boobs.
“DON’T LOOK AT MY BOOBS!”
“What?”
He can’t believe his ears. This can’t be the reason why you pull up this fight. No, there’s absolutely no way in hell you’re acting like this because you’re ashamed of him seeing your breasts.
“Please…Don’t look at my boobs…”
The king of curses just stares at you emotionless.
“Who do you think you are to tell me what to do, woman?”
His gaze wanders right down to your bloody chest. You are rather flat chested, but oh you look delicious. Too delicious to take his eyes off you, too delicious to think about saving you. He never hunted after women, was never interested in all those big-chested females with their neck-line hanging to the ground. But you…This looks pleasant.
“Delightful”, he finally speaks out.
Too late for you to hear before your hand smacks roughly into his face.
“I SAID DON’T LOOK!”
“I SAID YOU LOOK DELIGHTFUL YOU LITTLE BITCH!”
“YOU…You what?”
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Geto Suguru
Geto can’t help but stare at you, how your hips swing from side to side, how you wear your cute summer dress so easily. Not only the scorching heat of this summer day, but your sight as well make him feel light-headed.
“Staring again, Suguru?”, his best friend teases him in an instant.
“How could I not stare at her. She looks gorgeous in that dress”, he replies, not able to take his eyes off you.
“But she has no tits.”
You wish you didn’t hear those words leaving Satoru’s mouth, wish you could just giggle like a little girl and let your heart beat out of your chest because Suguru said you look gorgeous. But the second the meaning of his saying hits you, you stop in your tracks.
The stinging fact that your breasts are smaller than those of any other women at Jujutsu High and all those popular girls was always hard to bear for you. But with Suguru by your side, with his words sweeter than honey, you slowly but surely began to feel comfortable in your own skin again. Instead of oversized shirts, you started to wear dresses from time to time, bought the one you’re wearing right now with a slight neckline.
All that, only for your confidence to get crushed by that single comment.
You can’t contain yourself anymore. Without even trying to pretend you didn’t hear his venomous words, you turn on your heel and sprint down in the direction of your dorm. How stupid it was to even consider that a man like Suguru would actually like you back. After all, Satoru is his best friend, it’s clear that you look nothing like the girls they usually hang out with. Maybe your small chest isn’t enough for him…
Tears take your sight completely as you run straight to your room.
“(y/n), wait!”
No, not him. Not right now. Your heart almost drops to the floor when you hear his footsteps close behind you. If Suguru tries to cheer you up right now, you might break down completely.
“Hey, please wait for me.”
Gently, he grabs your wrist and spins you around.
“Let go of me”, you hiss, yanking your arm away out of instinct.
You don’t want to get touched by him, to even see him. God, you were really stupid enough to think that this man with the most tender eyes you’ve ever seen would actually like you back.
“Satoru fucked up with that comment. Hey, look at me. I know he made these comments before and I know you’ve had a hard time because of those stupid comments at school. But I’m here to tell you that I love you just the way you are, (y/n) …God, I love you with all my heart, I love you wearing those dresses, I love the way you move, I love the way you look. And it might sound totally weird, but I love your boobs. I’m…I’m obsessed with you.”
You have to blink a few times, try to process what just happened. Within a few minutes, you’ve heard your crush complimenting you, his friend insulting you for having small breasts and now Suguru is standing in front of you again, confessing his love for you and…your boobs?
“You don’t have to say those things to make me feel better”, you try to brush him off.
“I’m saying this because I mean it, (y/n). And I’ll kick his ass for saying something so stupid about you. When it comes to women, Satoru and I are the opposite of each other”, he explains briefly.
Oh, you are fully aware of the fact that Satoru Gojo hunts after every woman with cups bigger than your head. But something about the way Suguru stands in front of you, how his eyes literally beg you to believe him…
“I have enough of people judging me for something I can’t change”, you warn him.
“I don’t want to change a single hair on your body, (y/n).”
Slowly but surely, your eyes stop to burn in agony, your heart stops to ache, your body wakes up from its trance.
“So…you’re into small chested girls? Why am I supposed to believe this?”
Without wasting another minute Suguru steps forward, engulfs your body. And with one last glance into your widen eyes, he presses his lips against you’re the way he always imagined it.
“Is this proof enough?”
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Gorgeous divider by @saradika 🤍
1K notes · View notes
pascals-doll · 3 months
Text
“dont make a fuckin sound, hands up”
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ellie williams x reader
🫧 yes, i lowk tweaked out when she said that before proceeding to kill the woman but i-
🫧 i had originally titiled it dont say a word cause i thought what she originally said was too long of a title BUT FUCK IT THAT SHIT MAKES MY PUSSY THROB
🫧 description: outbreak ellie! joel isnt dead teehee, smut smut SMUT lesbian smut, ellie being rough, fingering, oral sex (both reciving), bonadage with a flannel (reader recieving), finger sucking/gagging?, no mentions of y/n just pet names like princess, doll, pretty, and babe
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you were dripping, your own juices trailing down your thigh….
how did you end up in this predicament exactly?
You went to Joel’s house, simply because he asked you to come over and help ellie out in the stables in the morning.
you arrived and greeted Joel, telling you that Ellie is upstairs.
The second you open that door, you were not safe. not for a second.
youre hand turns the knob, the door slightly opens to reveal no one in your view yet.
“Ellie?” you call out, slightly peeking.
you’re suddenly slightly pushed in, door closing shut simultaneously before youre swiftly pushed up against a wall.
your body had no choice but to go along with the jerking of each movement.
you were shocked slightly but by the non-aggressive behavior behind it, you knew who it was before even being against the wall.
“hi pretty” ellie says softly, hastily laying yet the softest kisses on your neck.
“oh, i see someone was definitely ready to see me” you joke, as you slightly pull her back to pull her in for a kiss. yet a kiss, led to her cupping your ass.
“lock the door” you mutter in between the heated lip-locking.
ellie locks it, wasting no time in scooping you up with all her strength and leading you onto her bed.
you pull away from the heated kiss momentarily.
“babe, Joel is right down-” you began to softly say before ellie placing a finger on your lips, shushing you.
she gives you a mischievous smirk before lowering her head in between your chest.
you can’t help but let out a soft sigh of relief as your squirm around under her hold.
“you missed me princess?” ellie mutters softly now undoing your bra clasps, straps falling off your shoulders revealing your perky chest.
you slightly shrug your shoulders so the bra falls off graciously completely.
ellie wasted no time in attacking your hard nipples and soft plush skin of your tits.
your hands made their way through her soft short brown locks, slightly tugging causing her to wrap her tongue around your right nipple, palming the left one.
“dont make a fuckin’ sound, hands up” ellie says in a stern yet calming tone, yet enough to make your heart race and back arch.
her hands grabs ahold of your wrists, putting them above your head.
ellie quickly grabs one of her flannels that was laying on her bed, grabbing it and rolling it slightly to tie around your wrists.
“is that good, doll?” she reassures lowly, you swore you couldve let out a purr with the shiver she sent down your spine.
you lift your hips up to brush up against hers “lets take these off, yeah?” she teases as you evidently get impatient.
“ellie baby, please” you coo out, moving your arms from the position they were even if they were tied together.
“nuh-uh, keep them there.” she says, looking up at you through her hooded stern eyes. she begins to undo the button of your shorts, zipper following quick after.
you raise your hips as she slides them down your legs, she grabs each of your thighs, pulling you closer to her and spreading your legs farther apart to reveal the pathetic wet patch seaping through your panties.
“seems like im not the only real excited” she teases with a sly smirk.
you grow pink and shy, trying to shut your legs but her hands quickly pulling them back to their original position “no need to get all shy doll, you look gorgeous like this” she says lovingly, before lowering herself so she can peck your thighs teasingly.
you were hot, you’re entire body felt like it was on fire with each kiss, touch, and word that came out of ellie just made you feel engulfed in a flame.
you’re mind felt hazy as she inched closer and closer to your pussy, making you squirm even more within her embrace.
“please el, please” you whine out.
“please what?” she teases, smiling at you, bringing two fingers to rub your wet folds through your panties.
“please fuck me-fuck me, ellie” you whine out, maybe a little too loud. ellie wasnt so pleased this time.
“what the fuck did i say?” she says before sucking harshly on both titties as she removed your panties quickly as her two fingers finding your pussy.
you let out a pressed shut whimper as your lips are pressed together in pure bliss of finally being rewarded by her.
“t-to not say a word” you say in a delicate tone, it made ellie spiral at how vulnerable you looked.
“ima make you feel so so good, princess” ellie coos, her hand caressing your face then going to cares your tits as her tongue swipes a long line along your juicy folds.
you continue to press your lips shut as soon as ellies tongue fucks you relentlessly.
the sensation of ellies tongue running all along your clit in a circular motion while sucking ever so slightly will have your back arching every fucking time and she knows it.
ellie with both hands pushes your legs up to your chest to get full exposure of your pussy. you bit your lip so aggressively, you swore you couldve bled, biting back the loudest moan possible.
you could feel ellies eyes on you, watching you from the crevess of your cunt and both legs. she smiles as she takes one hand and within no time, she has her middle and ring finger sliding inside of your pussy.
youre eyes roll in pure bliss as you lift your hips to meet closer to her tongue, you struggle in not wanting let everyone outside and Joel know youre getting slutted out in ellie’s bedroom.
“doing s’good pretty” she praises as she fucks her fingers into you nonstop and moving her tongue away.
ellie’s face finally meet yours making you lean up for a kiss hungrily, your lips meet together in perfect moving in sync.
ellies fingers continuing to ease you to you closer and closer to your orgasm.
you let out the softest whimpers against her lips, ellie swears she could listen to you make those noises like the music that plays in her headphones like nothing.
ellie pulls away causing you to let a little frown settle upon your face but being quickly replaced with your jaw loosening and back arching by the vigorous rubbing of your clit by her thumb as her fingers get wetter.
your mind gets hazy as no words fall out but heavy pants and breathy whines
“good girl, c’’mon cum doll” ellies praises were enough to send you over the edge.
you dig your nails into her arm as you cant help but slightly shake “mmhm, thats what i like to see” ellie whispers to herself as she slides her white coated fingers out of you.
“open” she says, you open your mouth taking in her fingers and sucking softly.
you keep eye contact as you taste yourself on her fingers.
“my turn” you say, all done cleaning off her fingers causing her smile as you quickly pull down her sweatpants and quickly switching positions.
you lay ellie down as your lips meet hungrily.
you pull her panties down, she was just as wet, if not even more.
“youre such a good girl for me” ellie mutters, admiring the site of such a beautiful sight infront of her, you in between her legs.
you love each praise that leaves her lips as you inch closer to her pussy, immediately attaching your lips softly to her swollen wet clit causing her to groan out a “fuck” it was little loud.
just like that, a knock on ellie’s door.
you move your head up and look at her in panic.
“is everything good in there girls?” Joel says loudly, concerned sealed into his tone.
“y-yeah! i got a wound and shes helping me clean it! we’ll head to the stables soon!” ellie yells back, giving you a look of panic and hope.
“okay, unlock the door once youre done.” he says before you hear his steps walking away from the door.
you both let out a fit of giggles.
“lets continue you this after?” you suggest, mischievously smirking.
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theobsessivesideblog · 4 months
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Trust Issues
An anxious Astarion falls back into old patterns of behavior.
Warnings: vague mentions of Astarion's past but seriously the rest of it is just fluff, this boy deserves someone who treats him well
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He loves you. Of that much he’s certain now, despite the mental battle he waged to get to this point. And you love him. He believes it even though the voice in the back of his mind tells him that he could never be worthy of a creature like you, all goodness and light in direct contrast to his tortured darkness. 
But old habits die hard. A minor disagreement earlier in the day (truly it was nothing, a mere gentle dissuasion away from his more violent tendencies) has him wound tight, worry clawing at his throat as you both retire to your tent for the evening. Surely now you’ll realize, now you’ll see the truth of him and you’ll run, leaving him behind like the monster he is. 
He can feel his mindset shift, falling into old routines as he turns up the charm to seduce his way back into your good graces. He knows how to wield his body as a weapon, has used it countless times for his, and his master’s, benefit. If he makes you need him then you can’t leave him, and he intends to make you very needy tonight. 
“You were magnificent today” he whispers into your ear, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. 
You chuckle lightly and lean into him, closing your eyes as he begins gently kissing the sensitive hollow beneath your ear that has you arching further into his embrace. 
“You flatter me,” you hum. “I’m still not sure why everyone has decided to act like I know what I’m doing. I never planned on being a leader.”
“And yet you do it so flawlessly,” Astarion purrs, gently kissing his way to your shoulder.
You twist in his hold, your breath catching as you see the look in his eyes that he’s praying you interpret as hunger and not helpless desperation.
He takes advantage of your distraction to pull you against him, lips claiming yours in a feverish dance that takes your breath away as you wind your hands into his hair, clinging to him as if he’s something worth having. 
His hands shift suddenly, grabbing the backs of your thighs and lifting you as he lowers you both to your knees. His hands drift up, pulling your shirt from where it’s tucked into your pants and caressing his way across your stomach to your ribs, teasing the edge of your bra. 
“I…” you take a sharp inhale, pulling yourself away from his searching mouth. “Astarion, stop.”
He freezes immediately, eyes instantly searching for an injury, for anything he may have done wrong 
“Are you okay, my love? Did I hurt you?”
“Of course not, I just…” your fingers flit across his cheek, searching for answers to questions you’re afraid to ask. “You don’t seem like yourself. Are you alright?” He hesitates for a split second and your brow furrows, latching on to his lie before he can even tell it. “Tell me. Please?” 
Your request is so earnest, so loving, that he has to pause for a moment to regain a hold of his emotions. If Cazador could see him now… the thought snaps him back to the present. He’s been a fool. You would never treat him like that, use him like that. 
“… I’m sorry” he breathes. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. I… I lost control today, and I was afraid that you… that you might not...”
“I told you it was nothing to worry about, love. You were just—”
“Just being myself,” he interjects, dropping his head. “Just being quick to judge, to assume the worst, to—”
“Stop that,” you frown, nudging his chin up to draw his eyes back to yours. “You know I couldn’t do this without you, any of it. What you thought of me when we met, that I was naive and overly trusting and gullible…” At that Astarion chuckles, you’ve really only proven his first impression right, though at least now he finds it endearing rather than frustrating. “You weren’t wrong. You don’t realize how much I rely on your judgment, how much I need your help to keep us all safe.”
His eyes close as he presses his forehead to yours.
“You’re too kind to me,” he whispers. “No one has ever… I don’t understand how you can just…” he sighs, shoulders sagging as the facade crumbles and his hands come to rest in yours, holding them as if he’s afraid he’ll get lost if he lets them go. “It was wrong of me to try to manipulate you like that,” he murmurs, releasing a shaky breath. “I’m sorry.” You press a soft kiss to his cheek and duck your head, gently nuzzling your face into his neck. He feels you frown against him, a touch of cold alerting him to a teardrop falling onto his skin. “No, pet, please don’t cry, I—”
You lift your head suddenly, gaze piercing into him with an intensity he hadn’t expected.
“I need you to trust me, Astarion.” 
His brow furrows in confusion. 
“I do, my sweet,” he replies, letting out a wry chuckle before adding “despite the recent evidence to the contrary.”
Your gaze softens as you grin at him, brushing a stray curl off his forehead before bringing your hand to rest on his cheek.
“Then trust me to love you.Trust that you don’t need to earn that or convince me of anything more. I’m yours. I’m not going anywhere.” 
Astarion’s eyes drift closed as a weight he didn’t realize he was carrying slips off his shoulders. He leans forward and captures your lips with his, tender and unhurried as you relax against him. 
“Have I told you recently how much I adore you, darling?” he asks, tilting his head to slowly kiss his way to your jaw.
“Hmm…” Your eyes twinkle as you pull an exaggerated thinking face. “I’m sure you have but it’s been such a long day, I just can’t seem to remember…”
“Cheeky little pup,” he chuckles, gently nipping at your neck. You giggle as you pull him back to your mouth, smiling against his lips. 
“Maybe you should jog my memory?” 
“Oh, believe me,” he smirks, “I plan to.”
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tteokdoroki · 8 months
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☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. what’s one more?
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about. now that your kids are all grown up, you’ve gotten to thinking about having another baby with bakugou again.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, suggestive and smutty, fluffy, some dub-con, baby-trapping mention, breeding, unprotected sex mention, reader is a mother, bakugou is getting old hehe, they have three daughters lol, fem!reader, pro hero!bakugou.
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i imagine that when your kids get a little older and start becoming more independent — your eldest in their final year of U.A, the middle starting U.A and the youngest still kicking in middle school….you catch a whiff of baby fever again.
it’s not even that everyone around you is having kids, most of theirs are well into their teenage years and giving your old friends trouble. it’s more that you miss the tiny pitter patter of feet throughout your house, the gummy giggles and scent of baby safe soap. oddly enough, you find yourself yearning for the late night feeds and the laughter shared over the inherent explosive bakugou diaper bombs.
speaking of your husband, you kind of hate how good he is with kids. he’s always treated your daughters like princesses, spoiling them rotten and raising their standards so that no possible crush could ever compare to the way their daddy treats them. but he’s so tender with the littler ones he visits as part of hero work, the tiny fans that ask him to sign his trading cards or their backpacks.
it’s adorable and still warms your heart to this day. to the point where you’re jumping bakugou’s bones every chance you get without actually telling him you want another one of his big headed babies. of course, he’s only a man and he’s not going to question why is wife of nearly two decades keeps presenting to him like a bitch in heat after lights out and the kids are asleep.
perhaps that’s why bakugou doesn’t question (on the one night where you have a child-free house) the way you toss away the condom, the way you take it raw and clench down on his cock like your life depends on it. why you squeal all high-pitched for him to fill you up with tears in your pretty eyes — how could he say no to you?
his pretty little wife, his lover, hot piece of ass to love and fuck to his hearts content.
what good, loving man isn’t going to cum in his wife when she begs and cries for it?
it’s not until your trained and doughy thighs lock around his slender waist to pull him into your frothing sex that bakugou realises. you’re doing this on purpose.
and by the time he does realise, he’s filling you up to the brim, sloppy white leaking out of you while you cum around him just like you always do — taking him so well, smiling up at him like you’re on top of the world.
“you fuckin’ leg locked me!” katsuki pants through amused laughter, collapsing on top of you with a sweaty and heaving chest.
“nuh-uh!” comes your quick reply, angling your hips up so that he slips deeper into you.
katsuki gets up soon after and disappears to the bathroom, not before prying your legs off of him — knowing full well he had the strength to do so earlier. if he really wanted to. “my own wife… you tried to fuckin’ baby trap me!”
“no i didn’t!” you pout defensively, brows furrowed and nose upturned. your expression only softens when your husband gives you a pointed look and moves to wipe the mess drying against your inner thighs. “okay…so what if i did?”
you loop your arms around his neck with a purr, toying with the silvery-blonde baby hairs on the back of katsuki’s neck and looking up at him with vixen eyes like you’re about to devour your prey. “we can not have another baby,” he tells you simply, kissing the crown of your head when you hiss at the sensitivity. “was i too rough?”
there’s a rasp to his voice, the kind that’s only prominent after hours of singing your praises in the bedroom. it makes you smile, close your eyes in content, and shake your head ‘no’. “why not?”
“havin’ a baby isn’t like gettin’ a puppy ‘nd you know that, sweetness,” bakugou hums quietly, soothing over the bruises he’d left on the soft handles on your waist. he thumbs at the stretch marks and tigers stripes, the very markings that show you were a mother to three of his beauties children. “we gotta focus on makin’ sure kasumi gets into a good agency, if not mine, and don’t get me started on the other two—“
“—but we could do it. right? i mean we’ve done it three times before. raised a baby, what’s one more?” you do your best to sound convincing while you sit up and cling to your man, pleading with those puppy dog eyes that got you knocked up the first time almost eighteen years ago. “don’t you want a little boy?”
“three girls are more than enough.” bakugou pushes your face away playfully, forcing you back into the sheets so he can lie on top of you. “we’re not as young—“ he starts, but back tracks after being on the receiving end of your heated glare. “i’m not as young as i was when we had our first. ‘n shit, my back hurts and my eyes are gettin’ bad, and our kids… they’re exhaustin’, babe.”
the both of you share a laugh. upon brushing a hand through his hair, katsuki trills happily at your affection. “you’re still a good dad. you’d be an even better to our next. even if you’re a little achey in the knees, old man.” though you’re teasing, you really do mean every word you say. raising your kids has been trial and error from the start, but bakugou’s been strong the entire way through — wanting nothing but the best for his family and always putting them first. “plus, the kids are with the kirishimas for an entire weekend, and you’re telling me you haven’t thought about fucking me raw again?”
“jesus woman, you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, aren’t you?” katsuki twitches against your leg once again, crawling up your body to capture your lips in a hungry, syrupy kiss. “you’re right,” he groans against them, loving the feeling of your tongue on his. “fuck, you’re right. spread your legs, sweetness. wanna fill this pretty pussy with my cum.”
“yes daddy…” you mewl in reply while a winning grin tacks itself to your lips l face between uncoordinated kisses and surprised moans once your husband eases his throbbing cock back inside of your tight heat. mumbling something about how it feels like home.
needless to say, neither of you are surprised when the next pregnancy test you take is positive. now you just have to explain the baby supplies in your Amazon basket to your three teenage girls.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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hyperfixat · 1 year
Text
How they show affection, demon brothers!
roughly ~700 words :3 side characters ver
Mammon bites.
Seeing how quickly Mammon took to you, he started showing affection around day three of knowing you, after forming your pact. At first you thought he was sniffing your hair, and maybe you needed new conditioner, but then you felt the graze of teeth on the lobe of your ear and a gentle bite.
You don’t react, save for a mild blush, and Mammon’s makes an oddly bird-like chiro, before pulling away from you.
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
“You bit me,” you acusse. It’s not like you’re mad, but knowing why might be nice.
“Stupid human, you’re imagining things,” and if you didn’t believe him from the tone of his voice the aggressive sunburnt red that eclipses his whole face shows he doesn’t mean it.
Satan headbutts.
It took a while for Satan to be affectionate with you, maybe shortly after the Lucifer slash London incident was when he first rammed his (thankfully horn-less) head into your arm. You thought he just bumped into you, maybe he stumbled and to spare him embarrassment, you didn’t mention it.
But then it happened again, this time he made eye contact with you before shoving his scalp into your chest. You melted.
Satan’s so sweet to you, for real for real.
Lucifer purrs.
Now don’t ask him or accuse him of purring because he will deny it, vehemently.
((The Avatar of Pride does not purr, don’t be ridiculous, MC. (Lying through his teeth.))
You only had the opportunity to hear it once in your first year at RAD, the night before you left, he had let you hold his head in your lap and bask in the warmth of your stomach and thighs in between the other activities you did that night.
Lucifer’s eyes has lidded and he gaze up at you with near heart shaped pupils, eyes nearly completely red, and a low rumble began in his chest.
At first you had thought he was growling and you did something wrong, but when you had stiffened up for a brief instance, Lucifer had snuggled his face deeper into your skin.
Asmodeus rattles.
You can’t see where it’s coming from, but it sounds like a baby rattle or the rattle of a snake.
“MC!” [aggressive rattling]
It was really confusing the first couple times and you had to eventually ask if there was a bug somewhere. Asmo, naturally, got offended, but as soon as you told him it was okay and you were just curious, he tells you it means he’s happy.
Cutie Patootie!!
Belphegor licks.
Belphie doesn’t give short little kitten licks, he gives long, drawn out licks across whatever he can access easiest (usually your neck or chest). His tongue is rough and tends to feel a bit scratchy against your skin and sometimes catches on your clothes.
The first time it happened was shortly after the attic incident, and you had thought you were alone in your bed and nearly had a heart attack when a lazy, oddly thick tongue went over your exposed forearm.
You, as one does when startled, screamed.
Belphie leans upward with a grumble, eyes alert though. “What’re you screamin’ about, MC?”
Beelzebub bites and buzzes.
He tries to keep it to just licks, he knows his teeth are sharp :( and he’d hate to hurt you by accident. But after you get your pact and harming you becomes much more unbearable, he will play-bite much more often.
AND he buzzes (like a fly, teehee) when he is especially content.
Leviathan purrs(?).
It’s probably some deep sea monster echolocation thing, but the closest you can describe it as is a purr.
Now getting him to purr is harder than getting Lucifer to purr, he gets up in his own head a lot, so usually when he’s sleepy he purrs (maybe it’s a trill?) into your side.
Bonus for Memphis, TN. (Mephisto)
Since we have not seen his demon form (thx solmare), I have to use what I know of my babygirl to guess what he is like.
I think he probably taps MC with his cane, like a poke or something idk it’s cute give me more mephisto content pls.
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crushmeeren · 6 months
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🍓Kirishima SFW & NSFW Headcannons
Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+; continue scrolling or block if you aren’t into it
Warnings; daddy kink, praise kink, rough sex, hair pulling, mentions of choking, throat fucking, pussy eating, vaginal sex, Kirishima spits into readers mouth and you swallow that shit happily, cream pie, sweet aftercare, sleepy sex
Note; I’m in love with Kirishima, I’ve been writing a lot of headcannons lately but I simply could not resist the urge to write about the overgrown puppy that is Kirishima. Enjoy this meal with me 🍓
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Eijirou who is the actual human embodiment of a ray of sunshine (he is the definition of golden retriever energy—you know if he had a tail it would wag non stop, definitely smacking the shit out of you)
Eijirou who you met for the first at the gym—you were uncomfortable & unsure of what you were doing when this mountain of a man with bright ass red hair came up to you so shy and explained how to back squat without hurting yourself (this fucker had the sweetest smile, despite his sharp teeth—but Jesus Mother Mary & Joseph—you thought you would fall to your knees just looking at him)
Eijirou who stuttered and turned pink every time you asked him to be your spotter whenever you saw him at the gym, until finally he asked for your number (you were gonna ask for his if he didn’t do it first—you definitely did not fist pump afterwards)
Eijirou who is a heart stopping amount of stacked, but is the biggest softie you have ever met, who gets overly excited to play with your dog-wrestling with him and cuddling him (you swear your dog now loves Eiji more than you, ever since you moved in together they’re two peas in a pod- much to your chagrin)
Eijirou who is really smart — okay maybe not top dog when it comes to book smart but he is street smart and exceptional at reading people, who always knows how you’re feeling even when you don’t say anything (it’s always a relief that he can tell when you don’t feel like talking)
Eijirou who is oblivious to how he looks, who has a shit ton of of instagram followers—not because he tries, no it’s because he started posting pictures of himself at the gym just for fun and unbeknownst to him everything he posts is like a goddamn thirst trap (he only realizes after you point it out because you’re starting to get jealous of all the comments but he always says he only has eyes for you)
Eijirou who almost never says no to you, who always goes with the flow, an easy smile lighting up his face, who lets you pick out the movie for date night more often than not (you make sure to pick something he likes anyways)
Eijirou who really likes cherry twizzlers, who has literal hearts in his eyes whenever you buy him a pack every Friday (he coos adorably at you when you hand him the bag saying you’re so sweet to me pretty girl, I love you so much! How did I get so lucky??), who shares them with you anyways
Eijirou who loves to wear athletic clothes—but also likes to dress punk?? (he’s very diverse), who has his ears pierced (two on each lobe), who looks otherworldly when he wears nicer outfits (you definitely make the joke about his clothes looking better on your floor)
Eijirou who is best friends with Katsuki, (you’ve shockingly been able to become close to him as well), who often plays video games online with his friends (Katsuki, Denki, Sero, also Izuku & Shouto), who likes it when you sit on the floor between his legs while he plays
Eijirou who purrs like a cat when you scratch his scalp whenever his hair is down, who lays his head in your lap while you watch TV so you can continue to play with his hair, who falls asleep halfway through the movie because he feels too relaxed
Eijirou whose presence is calming and friendly, who makes you feel safe, who everyone likes (you’ve never heard a bad word said about him—you’d curb stomp anyone who did)
Eijirou who has made you feel more loved then anyone else you’ve ever been with before, who fills your chest with a warmth so intense your eyes often sting with tears—who brings you your favorite food or drink out of blue, who makes you laugh so hard your stomach cramps (he’s the funniest motherfucker you know)
Eijirou who has become your other half, like a limb you didn’t realize was missing all this time, who becomes your husband, who becomes the father of your children, who you share a love with that only comes once every five life times (you know you’ll never love anyone else no matter what comes your way)
🍓NSFW Headcannons Below🍓
Eijirou who kisses you so softly, lips sliding with yours lazily as he lets out little sighs, thumbs slipping under your shirt to tease the smooth skin over your hip bones as you straddle him—until he lets his sharp teeth snag on your bottom lip, chomping into the flesh there, wrenching a startled gasp out of you (he sucks on it apologetically afterwards)
Eijirou who has a thing for letting you dry hump him (while you’re both still clothed), head thumping back on the couch cushion, fingers tight on your waist, flushing, groaning, eyes fluttering shut as he helps you drag your clit back and forth over his cock—dick throbbing painfully from the friction through his jeans
Eijirou who has a switch that flips once he gets to a certain level of aroused, who tosses you onto the bed effortlessly, caging you between his arms, who grips your jaw tightly —forcing it to pop open (he spits possessively into your mouth, telling you to swallow it baby girl, which you do gladly)
Eijirou who loves the feel of your hot, wet mouth sucking his cock, who gets you sitting on your calves on the floor, back against the mattress as his fingers hold the back of your head in place, so he can fuck your throat, who keeps one knee up on the bed next to your head as he thrusts, groin tightening when you look at him with teary eyes (he murmurs lowly baby girl s’good at sucking daddys cock aren’t you? —Your pussy drools)
Eijirou who eats your pussy from behind, soft tongue consistently licking at your clit, fingers stretching your pussy as your face is shoved into the sheets, ass in the air for him, your belly flutters warmly as he smacks your ass with his free hand (it doesn’t take you long to cum like this)
Eijirou whose cock is thick, and you’re talking thick thick, enough that he has to get you dripping before he can get his dick wet (but you love it, the stretch is almost an overwhelming pleasure)
Eijirou who has a daddy kink, who makes you beg for his cock when he has you folded in half—knees almost touching your ears, he teases your pussy with his tip telling you condescendingly you gotta ask daddy nicely if you want to be split open sweetheart (you absolutely do sob daddy please)
Eijirou whose chest gets slick with sweat (hair always falling from its spiky position when you start to go at it), whose moans raise in pitch when he can feel your nipples slipping over & over on his pecs as he fucks you, the sensation making pleasure blister through your limbs, pussy fluttering which makes Eijirou cry out
Eijirou who has a filthy deep stroke, who pants & whispers toe curling praise in your ear but fucks you like he’s trying to carve out your guts, you weave your fingers through his hair, tugging sharply as he moves, (pussy s’good to me sweet thing, daddy loves fucking you, such a tight little thing)
Eijirou who growls under his breath when he fucks you from behind, sliding his cock back in your pussy all the way to the root, forcing a choked sob out of you, who is brutal from the get go, pelvis smacking wetly against yours
Eijirou who makes you cum instantly, wailing please daddy just like that! when he threads his fingers through your hair, forcing your neck back at a sharp angle, activating his quirk just enough on his left hand so he can leave bruises on your hip (oh? right there angel? that was a big one wasn’t it baby, so good cumming for daddy — voice dripping in your belly like honey)
Eijirou who pulls you up into his lap, back against his chest, hand around your throat as he bounces you on his cock, who makes your back arch as he bites on your shoulder, whining lowly as he cums, whose cock you can feel pulsing as his sticky release fills you up (fuck daddy, love when you cum in me — that makes his eyes roll back)
Eijirou who has you limping to the shower afterwards, but he washes your body, rubs your lower back, who tells you how much he loves you as he carries you back to the bed in a towel, who makes you giggle as he pokes your ribs when you change into one of his large T-shirts
Eijirou whose face you pepper with kisses when he climbs into the bed with you, who lets you wake him up in the middle of the night to ride him sweet and slow, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air, limbs heavy with sleep, who cradles you against his chest when you eventually fall back asleep
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maiko-san · 2 months
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Catnap + Dogday x Reader (Part 6)
<<< Part 5
Relationship : Fluff
Warning : ⚠️ Mention of blood, mild amnesia ⚠️
Recap : After inhaling the red smoke, you find yourself awake in Catnap's hidden room. For some reason, you don't remember what happened before you got here....
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Yet again, you wake up from your slumber. You let out a groan and massage your temple.
Your head is throbbing and your whole body aches for no reason. Probably you slept on the wrong side of the bed— wait.
This is Catnap's room.
You're laying on his large cat bed and you begin to question yourself...
Why are you here?
You remember being in the infirmary after you exhausted yourself with work. But something doesn't feel right and you swore something happened after.
You try to remember what had happened but nothing came up, everything is a blur.
It made you feel frustrated.
A sharp pain in your head makes you jolt as you hisses in pain. You decide to ease yourself from thinking too much.
"Catnap?" you called out for the feline mascot.
Silence.
Where did the cat go?
You look around the room and notice a tray with medicines on them with a few bottles of water.
You pick up the pills and it was the prescription given by the doctor for your headaches.
You didn't think twice and took the pill so it will make your headaches go away.
After that you lay back down on the soft bed, you can return to your office after your headaches goes away.
As much as you want to walk back to your office, you don't want to stumble around like a drunk idiot and hurt yourself.
You close your eyes and rest....
Purr...purr...purr...
You hear soft purring in your ears, you slowly open your eyes and purple fur fills your vision.
You knew who it was and it is Catnap.
Hugging you close to his body with one arm over you as he purrs softly in his sleep. His body is curled around you in a protective manner.
You unconsciously bring your hand up and rub the feline's head, causing his purring to become louder.
"Star..."
Catnap's eyes open as he stares down at you, he shifts a bit to give you some space.
"How....are you...feeling?"
"I feel a little bit better...hmm...I remember being in the infirmary, did you bring me here Catnap?"
"Yes...I brought you here.... the infirmary bed is...bad...and not good for sleeping"
You hum at his response as you continue to pet him, Catnap closes his eyes and accepts the affection he's receiving from you.
You smile at the sight of the purring cat, you quite enjoy petting him and the other SC. They were made to comfort children in the orphanage after all.
You lift yourself off the bed and stretch yourself, "Well, I guess it's time for me to go back to my office!" this caused Catnap to snap out from his purring state.
"You can't!"
This causes you to flinch slightly at his sudden change of tone, "Why?" you questioned the cat.
Catnap froze, why didn't he think this through? He doesn't want you to go back to your office and see the massacre.
Also, the risk of losing you to the other toys is high.
"Everything.... already closed down"
Catnap said. It's entirely true that it's already past closing time. The playcare and the cable car usually shut down after 9:00 p.m. The only people who have access to everything are the night guards.
"What?! It's already past 9:00 p.m.?!"
You were shocked. You've slept that long? Catnap nods as you rub your forehead, guess you have to sleep in for the night huh.
You pucker up your lips before your stomach lets out a loud growl indicating your hunger.
Catnap's ears perk up at the sound as you smile sheepishly, "I haven't eaten since afternoon...I do remember leaving my lunch on my table" you hummed.
"I'll go get it!"
Catnap said as he stands up on all fours. Before you could question him, Catnap jumps up to the hole above leaving you inside the room.
"Huh?! Catnap, wait! Take me with you!"
You called out for him but to no avail. You let out a sigh as you stare up at the entrance on the ceiling. This room is easy to get in but hard to get out.
You have no choice but to wait for Catnap to come back.
You wait...
and...wait...
waiting....
What's taking Catnap so long?
You wish there's a clock in here and you don't have a watch to tell you the time. You assume he was gone for 15 minutes now.
Then, you hear something and it comes from the hole.
"Catnap?"
Something large drops down onto the cat bed, causing you to flinch. It was a blue box with a star on it. It has a crank on its side too. Is it...a music box?
For some reason, you feel the sense of deja vu.
You stare at it for a while, narrowing your eyes at the box.
You just couldn't keep your eyes away from it, if you do something bad would happen.
You and this mysterious box are engaged in a staring competition.
A few minutes pass and nothing happens but that uneasy feeling hasn't left your guts.
Then, the box begins to wind up and plays the well known 'Pop's goes the weasel'
'Get. the. f*ck. outta. there!'
As soon you take a step back, the lid pops and comes out from it, was a monster with razor sharp teeth and claws covered in fresh blood.
By the blessing from the god, you somehow slip and avoid getting eaten by the red headed monster.
"Sh*t!"
That's the only thing you could cry out as you quickly get to your feet and run.
But...where?!
The box monster springs itself towards you like a charging bull, you scream out in fear as you yet again dodge it but it manages to scratch your leg.
You fall on to the ground as you watch your leg bleed, the box monster stalks towards you with hungry eyes.
Your body begin to shakes in fear.
There's no way you can survive this, there is no escape!
As the monster lunges at you, you feel something sharp hooking itself on the back of your shirt and drags you high up.
The box monster was surprised as you are, it let out a frustrated roar as you feel yourself being dragged away by a strange force.
A/n : I know it's a short chapter but I want to leave a cliffhanger.
Also, the Reader had mild amnesia but having it doesn't mean that she forgot her entire identity!
It is only the memories of the previous event were wiped out and she only forgot the event of her being kidnapped and the hour of joy.
But she does remember being in the infirmary, resting.
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holylulusworld · 1 month
Text
Second-Hand
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Summary: He only wants you.
Pairing: Alpha!Steve Rogers x Omega (fem) Reader
Warnings: mentions of rejection, scenting, a/b/o, mentions of feral alpha, fluff
Written for @caplanbuckybarnes Weekly Writing Challenge #4.
I chose the prompt: "The scar on my neck? My Mate broke our bond and left me."
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The alarm is so loud you can barely think. Red lights indicate that something terrible must’ve happened at the Avengers Tower.
“Y/N,” Bruce storms inside the laboratory, searching for you. “I need to get you out of here. It’s the Captain. He’s out of control.”
“Captain America is out of control?” You worriedly look at Bruce. “What happened? What do we do now?”
Bruce grabs your hand to guide you out of the laboratory. “We’ve got not much time left. His alpha took over and you are the only unmated omega in this building. The others try to keep him under control until I got you somewhere safe.”
“What did he do?” 
“He trashed his room and almost attacked Tony,” Bruce grabs your hand again to guide you toward the nearby elevator. “He’s growling like a beast. I fear he’s gone feral.”
“Feral,” you whisper. “If he goes feral, he’s lost forever. We need to help him. I need to help him. The world needs him. The Avengers need him.”
“Y/N, we can think of something after I brought you somewhere safe. We can’t waste more time.” Your boss tries to guide you toward the elevator, but you shake his hand off. “Y/N?”
“I can help him,” you say, and step away from Bruce. “I know you mean well, but people, especially alphas calm in my presence. I think it has something to do with my scent.”
“This is insane,” Bruce calls after you. It’s too late. You dash along the hallways, following Steve’s scent. It’s distinctive. No other scent ever lured you in or made your toes curl. 
“Where are you going?” Your boss is chasing after you now, desperate to stop you from making a grave mistake. “He’s going to hurt you! Y/N, please stop. Don’t do this.”
You’re unstoppable. Bruce may be the Hulk, but your instinct makes you run faster, and faster. You don’t know what you’re going to do when you find Steve, but you must help him.
“Y/N?” Tony asks when you push him out of your way. You stop right in front of the room they locked Steve in. You purr low in your throat and sniff at the door. “You need to get out of here. He’ll tear the door down if he scents you!”
It’s too late. Steve slams his body against the door, making it creak.
“OMEGA!” He growls your presentation. “Mine!”
“What happened? What caused him to lose control so easily?” You press your ear against the door to listen to his heavy breathing. “Mr. Stark. What happened?”
“He came back from a mission, pumped up with adrenaline. We couldn’t save them all,” Tony whispers to not rile Steve up even more. “We tried to calm down, but Steve was out of it. He blamed himself for losing two of the hostages - and then he scented you.”
“Me?” You don’t understand why your scent drove Steve up the wall. He never acted differently around you. 
Most of the time he gave you a short hello, and a genuine smile. You never talked for long. Only the usual interaction with someone working at the same place. He’s not one of your colleagues, and you are not one of the Avengers. It’s that simple.
“I’ll go inside and try to help him,” you move your hand to the door handle. “Whatever you hear, don’t come inside.”
“Y/N, you don���t know what a feral alpha is going to do to you,” Bruce finally caught up with you. He places his hand on your shoulder, but you shake it off.
“I know exactly what alphas are capable of,” you turn around to look at Bruce and Tony. “The scar on my neck?” You remove your scarf to show them the scar they didn’t dare to ask you about. “My mate broke our bond and left me. That’s all I got left of him.”
“A feral alpha is something else than a douche letting you down,” Tony tries to stop you, but you already unlock the door. “Y/N!”
“I told you to not interfere.” You slip inside the room and slam the door shut behind you. “Lock the door and don’t come in.”
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Steve sits on the floor of the padded cell, cradling something that looks like the cardigan you’re missing. He sniffs at the fabric and purrs low in his throat. “Hi, Captain.”
He’s lost in his instinct, not even hearing your soft voice calling his name. 
You kneel on the padded ground and slowly move toward Steve.
“Steve, I need you to calm down and look at me.”
“Omega,” Steve dips his head. His eyes glow when your scent hits his sensitive nose. “Omega!”
He drops your cardigan to the ground and pounces on you. You try not to scream when he grasps you. He buries you under his body, holding your trembling form in a tight grip.
Unlike everyone expected, he’s surprisingly careful and gentle. Steve nuzzles you and sniffs at your neck. “Mine.”
“I once had an alpha calling me his mate. He was possessive and passionate until he found someone better. His true mate.”
“Mine,” Steve kisses the scar on your neck, focused on taking the pain of your broken bond away. “Omega.”
“If you want me, I must tell you that I was claimed before. He left me,” you close your eyes, and enjoy feeling Steve’s warmth surround you. “I’m secondhand.”
He nuzzles your scar. “I don’t care. You’re mine. I’m your alpha.”
“You’re my alpha.” 
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Tags in reblog.
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risuola · 2 days
Text
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F. READER X SUKUNA RYOMEN // After Sukuna finally got a human body, his power was taken away and sealed within you.
cw: Sukuna is separated from Yuji and has his own body (not the heian form tho!), smut, mentions of hurt and violence, some blood and execution mentioned, reader discretion is advised — 7,3k words
a/n: ok so i've been meaning to finish this wip for so long and as i opened the file i realized i don't like the way it's written and i rewrote all 11 pages in word and now it's hopefully finished so... enjoy the usual — hurt, comfort, angst-fluff dynamics and emotional constipation ♡
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“What do you want, curse?”
A long, deep sigh escaped your lungs as you reached for a towel to dry your body off. As you stepped out of a shower, last thing you expected to see was the King of Curses himself leaning nonchalantly against the tiled wall of your bathroom, eyeing you with the wicked smile on his face. How on brand. You didn’t expect him but saying that his sudden presence surprised you would be an overstatement. You learned to expect him anytime.
“Don’t ask silly questions,” he scoffed, narrowing his eyes that in the sharp lights of your ceiling lamp glistened in blood-red. All four of them were fixed on your damp frame, on your exhausted body. It wasn’t the best day to mess with him. Not that any other day was better to deal with the most cursed curse of all curses that ever existed — this one though was particularly inconvenient.
It wasn’t longer than maybe an hour since you got home, returning from a mission that Gojo had given you, entrusting your power to rid the world of a group of curses. They were exceptionally violent, first to special grade with no doubt and you did, in fact, manage to exorcise them all, but not without your body getting painfully battered.
“You know I cannot grant your wish, don’t you? I wouldn’t give you your powers even if the world was on fire and you were the last available option to save it.”
He scoffed, again, and smirked like the pure evil that he is. You approached slowly, reaching for the robe hanging beside him, hopeful to get this conversation over sooner rather than later, but before your fingers even had a chance of grasping the soft, silky fabric of the gown, Sukuna snatched your wrist. His long, calloused fingers wrapped tightly around your forearm and he twisted it, tugging and pulling, until your back hit the wall.
Trapped between the cold tiles and his muscular frame, you winced at the sudden wave of pain that struck your body. Your reaction time lacked as in matter of split seconds both of your wrists were pinned above your head, bound by only one of his large hands and you were helpless. So devastatingly, utterly helpless against the sheer force in front of you. Your bones were fragile as twigs in his iron grip, so easy to bend and break under the pressure of the power he held and you knew it from practice that he could and he would break them if he wished to do so.
“That little mouth of yours is gonna get you in big trouble one day,” he said, a sound as low as a purr, and a grin spread across his face, as he lowered his head enough to meet your eyes. His gaze, tinged with crimson and madness, pierced your soul and if you didn’t know better, you’d say your prayers right now because the face in front of you was a face of slow and cruel death.
“I bet I can manage the trouble that is you. I appreciate the care,” you were calm, sounded calm, despite the rushing rumble of your heart against the ribcage in your chest. You were nonchalant, ignorant even, most likely very naïve and dumb, but you knew that what would be a certain demise to anyone else, for you it just wasn’t.
Born into a family of ordinary people, you were different. Gifted with the sight that allowed you to notice what was invisible to the eyes of others — the spirits. Curses. The ability formed your life, led you onto a path which eventually crossed with the man you only heard legends about. Satoru Gojo had taken you under his wing, showed you the world of jujutsu and allowed you to be yourself when everyone else wanted you to just act normal. But you were a special one. You were gifted, no, you were heavily and deeply tainted with something you couldn’t understand. Something even he couldn’t understand. There was no rank for you. No label that could be tied to your name. You were just different, with the exceptional physical fitness and peculiar, precise control over the cursed energy, you easily passed all of the tests and challenges. But your powers are dark. They are heavy, suffocating, they made other people fear you despite the kindness that showed through your warm personality.  
“I hate it when you talk down to me,” Sukuna growled. His low voice died down when he slowly pressed his lips to yours, greedily taking your breath away as his hand swiftly removed the towel from your body. A shiver ran down your spine, the sudden contact with the cold ceramics behind you made you jolt forward, involuntarily pressing your body against the wall of muscle. Ryomen’s clothed torso provided more comfort than the bone-chilling tiles. You felt him smirk against your mouth.
When Sukuna separated from Itadori’s body, materializing in his own form and threatening the entire universe with his existence and unsatiable thirst for blood and destruction, Satoru, along with some other people that you didn’t know, acted immediately. It was a sacrifice to pick you for the new vessel, it was a decision made in a rush and you’d have to think twice before agreeing to it again if you ever had a chance. Your technique allowed you to store someone else’s cursed energy so it was an easy choice for everyone involved.
The King of Curses got stripped of most of his power when he was barely awakened in his own body, and said power was then transferred to yours. Sealed inside your fragile human frame, nearly destroying you from inside out with the initial shock wave. Since that day you had to learn and accept to live with constant pain, the never-ending suffering, because locking away Sukuna’s evil was much more important than your well-being.
You were told that it’s different than what Itadori was to the king. The curse created a space for itself inside Yuji’s soul, keeping his own powers contained to only himself and you — you had his cursed energy constantly, unstoppably racing through your body, poisoning your veins with every pump of your heart and it hurt. It burned like a hellfire was spreading throughout your circulatory system and since that day, your life had become a curse itself. Your sleep has gotten worse, you were tired and for the first few weeks you were barely able to move. It felt like the cells were tearing themselves apart inside you, like everything was in a state of never-ending volcanic eruption. It was agonizing, torturous. You felt like dying. Every day. Luckily, Ieiri was able to develop a medicine that taken every day, calmed everything down enough to make it bearable.  
You got used to it, as the year passed by, but what you also had to get used to, was the owner. Ryomen Sukuna visited you so often that he partially lived in your apartment, patiently torturing you with his presence until you gave him what he was rightfully entitled to. He didn’t even consider covering a part of your rent, asshole. He couldn’t kill you — your death would take all of his powers down to your grave with you — but it didn’t stop him from trying his luck with everything that wasn’t enough to take your life.
You remember the first attempts, the first showcases of his annoyance. It was a shame, it was pathetic to Sukuna and he felt humiliated to get caught in such a simple trick, to allow himself to not have his guard up from the very first breath he took once he separated from the brat. All of that pent up anger, he threw on you and the many trials of violence and brutality had taught him that your tolerance for pain was high. And you fought back. Over time, and after many weeks you spent inside the hospital bed underneath the precise care of Shoko, Sukuna had realized that no amount of beating and torture will force you into obedience — as annoying as the realization was — so he changed his ways and switched to haunting you. Taunting you with his constant presence. Able to enter your apartment at any given moment, the curse made sure you were never too comfortable in your own home. You grew to live with that too.
“Hurts?” Sukuna grinned, watching the wince that twisted your otherwise attractive features the very moment his fingers dug into your side. With sadistic pleasure he studied the way your brows creased and your eyes fell shut. The rumble of your heart was evident in the silence of the bathroom and even more evident were the very palpable fractures of your ribs underneath his palms. “Want me to stop?” He mused, griping the injury tighter and the cruel wave of pain almost knocked the air out of your lungs.
“You are charming as always, curse,” you scoffed, forcing some oxygen into your system and cussing yourself internally for showing the pain, for giving him the clearest indication of your weakened state. For giving him something to use against you. “It hurts, yes. I’ve had a rough day, I’d like to rest.”
“Then I will take you to bed,” he let go of both your hands and ribs, scooping you up and carrying you towards the bedroom. Your bare body seemed tiny against the tall, muscular built of him. Too fragile to be so stubborn and blame it on said fragility, but Sukuna out of habit put you down onto the plush sheets with gentleness so uncharacteristic of him.
“You know I can’t give you what you want,” you looked at him, your gaze portraying the tiniest sliver of hope that finally he’ll understand and give up, but giving up wasn’t a phrase present in king’s vocabulary. He’d rather die than let go and both of you knew it. “I’m sure you can tell I’m exhausted, but if you make me, I will fight.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, woman,” he grinned, allowing his two pairs of eyes to run down your naked body, silently admiring the petite frame that was capable of holding all of his strength. “I wouldn’t force you to fight when you’re already so beaten. What do you think I am, a monster?”
“Not a monster. You’re a curse, which is worse.” A shrug of your shoulders sent a jolt of pain throughout your body and it took everything from you to not wince in front of him again. You reached for a t-shirt you use to sleep in — a garment stolen from Itadori, big enough to almost be a dress, comfortable cotton that wrapped you with softness and warmth. Sukuna knows your body. He’s seen it naked, touched and tasted it many times and the piercing gaze of all four of his eyes on your skin was something you grew to accept, but you wanted to get dressed anyway. Sukuna was never a gentle lover and your broken ribcage wouldn’t take his roughness too well.
"It sounds so lovely in your mouth," he chuckled, taking the blouse from your hands and tossing it carelessly away. "Who said you can dress up?"
"Who said you can give me orders?"
"Am I not the king?"
"Of curses, yes. I'm not a curse, your jurisdiction does not apply to me."
“Gods, you need to shut up.”
There was only one thing Sukuna grew to enjoy a sliver bit more than torturing you and that was having sex — though he dismayed the thought of such primal pleasures taking over his urges. It felt foreign at first, as if his own body tried to betray him by showing interest in a simple, unworthy human just as you, but he was able to reason it within his own, conflicted mind. Intimacy created a leak. A leak of his own power seeping through you, an unknown weakening of your defenses and Sukuna was able to, quite literally, fuck his powers out of you, absorb it back into his own form, feel more like himself for just a little moment.
Other thing is — and he hated it the most — that he genuinely enjoyed the time in bed with you. It was pleasurable, too pleasurable almost and Ryomen actively dismissed the idea of you stripping him off his cold judgement, the clarity of his thoughts, but he loved it also. Every soft whimper and whisper of his name that ever slipped through your lips made his ego grow, made him want more and although he hated the seal, he admired the shell you wore around your soul and if there was ever anyone he wished to be intimate with, it was you. You held his power in the body he was able to touch, to taste, to have, and over time Sukuna grew to respect it, in his own twisted way. Over hundreds of years he’s been around, he had seen people brave — or stupid — enough to try and contain his power, to ingest one of the cursed objects his soul was fragmented into and then, he watched them die in pain and suffering just from a small fraction of it. You were able to hold it, agony or not.
You, on the other hand, had no clue what exactly was causing the seal to leak, you couldn’t tell why was it happening when he was inside you and not when he was trying to beat the life out of you. Why breaking your bones never let a drop of his energy to slip from under your control and the intimacy made you lose it just like that? You couldn’t tell, but just the fact that Sukuna’s able to regain any amount of his legacy through intercourse should be enough of a reason to never, ever let him touch you, but oh well. Elders didn’t like you anyway and the cursed energy released was so insignificant it wouldn’t really cause much trouble — that’s at least how you reasoned with yourself. Sometimes you wondered if the small boost was even worth all the trouble for the king, but it wasn’t hard to notice he was clearly enjoying just being close to you.
“Oh, do I?” You questioned him; dared, and he took you on a challenge, pressing his lips to yours. You whimpered and pressed your open palms to his clothed chest when he climbed on top of you, hovering above your much smaller frame and allowing his shadow and evil aura to swallow you and you flinched. Your senses, however trained, were always on high alert when he was so close. It was reflexive, a first response that screamed, begged, to get away from him, to run and don’t look back but you had to learn pushing it down. It’s been only few weeks since you managed to fix and patch up the hole his fist once made in one of your walls and putting up a fight right now would certainly damage your apartment yet again. Not to speak about yourself.
“You never know when to shut up,” he purred against your lips and moved, following the edges of your jawline and down your neck, spreading wet bites and marks along your delicate skin there.
“Sukuna, please, not today,” you whimpered, pleading and gasping just slightly, feeling his long, calloused fingers already finding their place between your thighs, teasing the awaiting bud of joy and pleasure that, unlike you, was very excited for the events unraveling.
“Why not?” He asked, letting go the sensitive skin right above your pulse and admiring the reddish, swollen patch he left there. “You’re so wet, I cannot ignore it.” You could feel his grin against your shoulder, hear it in the mocking yet proud tone of his voice because he was proud of himself. He knew how to push your buttons, which ones to push first and how to navigate his lips and fingers across your curves and hollows to make the most out of it because truth is, ever since he got his own human-like body, he was able to appreciate physical pleasures that before that, he couldn’t care less about. “Aren’t you ashamed? A sorcerer, spreading your legs for the king of curses? Moaning my name instead of spells, digging your nails into my skin instead of knives?”
“Aren’t you ashamed? The King of Curses himself, getting so hard and worked up for a simple human?” You replied with a mock underlying in your tone and he laughed.
“Didn’t I already tell you to shut up?”
“You did,” you confirmed, nodding and pulling his blouse up, forcing him to undress and he complied. His covered in black markings skin, stretched over a strong musculature never failed to make you gasp in awe. Sukuna is an attractive man, slightly reminiscing you of Itadori due to him being the last of his hosts, but also completely different. The aura is different, the height and body shape. There’s nothing of Yuji’s kindhearted, warm nature — Ryomen is a menace. His eyes are narrowed, knowing, proud. He’s arrogant, he’s full of himself, he’s spiteful and uncaring and sometimes you wondered how he managed to coexist with the society for a year now, with his temper so cold and obnoxious.
“So behave,” he smirked, pushing your knees apart and slipping two of his thick fingers inside you. He worked them easily through the slick, warm entrance and stretched you with slow movements. A brief attempt of foreplay, careless towards the discomfort his hands managed to cause you, but he loved it — he loved to feel how wet you could get for him, he loved to see you all worked up, blushed and flushed, squirming underneath his very touch. “Behave or it’ll hurt more than necessary.”
“It’s going to hurt anyway, there’s no way around it,” you breathed out, your tone quite blank as you tried to brace yourself to feel every broken bone in your ribcage. Truth is that breathing was causing you problems and you were actively pushing the petrifying thought of rough sex deep down your thoughts. “I’m not good at behaving.”
“Hard to disagree,” the curse chuckled, running the tip of his tongue along the length of your neck and it took him a second to replace his soaked-up digits with his rock-hard member. Low, animalistic and gravelly purr escaped his throat, as his length got into the tight embrace of muscles inside you. A velvety warmth mixed with sharp, stinging feeling of your nails digging into the skin of his back made his mind go blank for a moment. You run your fingers across his body, adding new marks to the constellation of his own and he took in the way your breath hitched in your chest, the soft thud of your heart that he felt underneath his lips as he kissed your neck, nipping and sucking spots onto the otherwise clean surface. Hot waves of euphoria rushed through him, adrenaline pumped inside his veins and were it not for your injuries, he would be pounding into you relentlessly by now, pushing you above and beyond your limits, mercilessly taking your breath away time after time, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head and basking in the exhilarating feeling of you taking him in. If not for the bones that he so clearly can feel beneath his fingertips, the fractures sharp against your skin over your ribcage, he would be relentlessly rushing towards orgasm and ecstasy. This time, he refrained. This time, he decided to be curious, to see how the softness you always tell him about tastes on his own tongue.
Sukuna’s movements were slow, odd but deep and heavy. Every nerve, every sensitive spot in your entire body was hit and abused again and again and again. His lips kept gluing themselves to your mouth, your neck, shoulders. He was kissing your chest, nipping at your skin, making you heave, and moan, and whimper. He was taking you all in, observing, listening, savoring and it didn’t take long for the heat to pool below your stomach. A coil of tight pleasure, a knot begging to snap open and undo itself. The man was all over you, his hips worked in a rhythmical melody that’s got you lose your focus, your train of thoughts. It cleared your mind — a blank space that now was filled only with him and the intense, addicting way his hips moved.
You trembled.
Your thighs were shaking, your breath cut short.
You’ve had your fair share of intercourses with the King of Curses — each of them pleasurable in its own way. He has his ways of exhausting you, of pushing your limits, overstimulating you. He experimented, dominated and forced you into submission one way or another. Sukuna is no stranger to pain and violence and throughout the year you’ve got to know all colors of his palette but nothing, not once, resembled the tenderness he showed you this time.
“Suku–ahh—” you panted, cried out, gripping his biceps tightly.
“That’s right, let it out,” he grinned, demanded and moved his hips with more precision, just a little more force to hit that one spot he knew does it for you and it stole a breath from you. Your back arched, despite the broken bones, your head went blank as the groundbreaking wave of pleasure washed over you. The tight ring of muscles kept squeezing and contracting and Sukuna groaned along with you. He was leaking, his balls heavy and aching for release that he forcefully postponed, greedy to take more from you before he gives you any of his.
He pulled out, almost completely — a false promise of a breather — and then pushed back, fully, completely. His body moves more frantically, more rushed and yet, the compassion rushed in his veins, stripping the thrusts off their usual violence.
Odd. Addicting.
The first bliss was soon followed by two more and your third climax was his first. He became sloppier, hurried as he chased the sweet, sweet release and you tangled your fingers into his soft, blush-colored hair pulling him in and kissing his breath away. You couldn’t focus and nether could he. Nothing but the immense pleasure of the act, nothing before and nothing after, just here and now. Your body and his, in your apartment, in your bed. And when he came, he drew blood from your lower lip, catching it between his sharp fangs.
You let out a shaky breath, way more tired than before and yet, you smiled softly when Sukuna collapsed onto the bed beside you — the last bits of reason that made him shift his body to the side so that he wouldn’t put his weight on top of your fragile frame. He had this infuriating and oddly attractive smirk plastered onto his face and you knew he’s listening — to your calming breath and the harsh thuds of your heartbeat rumbling inside your chest.
Sukuna felt content. Utterly and completely satisfied and what’s got him surprised, he also felt his cells swell with power. The amount that leaked, due to unknown reasons, was incomparable to what he’s ever been able to absorb before. He couldn’t tell if it was your exhaustion, the wounds and damage your body was covered with or just the way he took you this time, but he knew for a fact that there was more. He also noticed that this time, unlike any other, he was completely abandoning the idea of cursed energy. It’s as if it entered his body on its own, without him actively taking it in, all while he was completely lost in the moments of pleasure, lost in you.
A grin on his face only got bigger, the feeling of might overwhelming him for a moment. He wanted to laugh, to scream, to destroy and kill. To feel like his old, superior self, to force his way through other people’s suffering. It felt ecstatic, to have a part of himself back, to feel the strength surging through him and—
—that’s until he looked at you again and he realized there was a scent of blood in the air. A metallic hint of something that was very wrong with you, something that he never thought he would miss since he loved to be surrounded by blood. But you were quiet about it. Breathing fast, with a hand pressed to your side and your eyebrows furrowed — a clear giveaway of the pain that slowly returned to you once the euphoric aftershocks wore off.
“You’re bleeding, huh?” He more so stated than asked, gathering himself up and gently, carefully slipping one of his arms underneath your knees and the other around your back. Once he lifted your worn off body, not without a quiet wince slipping from your mouth, the red, vibrant stain revealed itself from where you were resting. “That wound was there before, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, it was,” you replied, weakly, leaning the side of your head towards his flexing bicep and clenching your fingers around your fractured mid-section.
The shower, hot and steamy, wasn’t the most pleasant of all, but it did wonders to wash away the sticky residues from your thighs and the blood and sweat that mixed atop of your skin. Sukuna’s large hand pressed itself onto the wound, forcing it to stop bleeding — trying, at least.
“Why didn’t you heal it?”
“I didn’t have enough power to do so. I just barely managed to close it, and—” You trailed off, feeling dizzy. It was getting to you, ridding you of basic abilities to communicate and the king caught up immediately.
Water got turned off and he dried you quickly, superficially. You felt the towel being run over your limbs and pressed around your torso where the most damage was. Then he wrapped a bandage around you, tight and precise, hopeful to get the bleeding in control before he took you back under the sheets — with clean underwear on and after he flash-changed the sheets into clean ones.
Your battery was so low, you felt like you’re gonna pass out any moment.
“It was amazing,” you told him, once his weight dented the mattress and his body heat reached your cold skin. Usually, you wouldn’t feed into his ego, it was already way too big and swollen, but you figured he deserved to hear a praise after he restrained himself from fucking you to death.
“Rest,” he ordered, harsh and dry but he couldn’t hide the little smirk that tugged on the corner of his mouth. He acted like he didn’t care of what you just said, but he did, and he’ll remember it.
With hopes that sleep will solve your health issues, Sukuna watched as you drifted away and with deep dismay he noticed that the white bandages that hug your torso were slowly and steadily turning red. Your face was in a constant frown, you were visibly in pain and getting feverish, if he wasn’t mistaken, and he cursed his own self for caring about such things. You were a strong woman — despite all of his insults and cruel words he had told you during the past year — and he had never, not once, saw you in such a pathetic, vulnerable state but then, maybe if he stayed with you more often instead of leaving the moment he was done fucking his powers out of you, he would know better. Even so, you never complained and Sukuna isn’t stupid, he knows how much trouble his cursed energy causes you, how much pain and everyday agony you have to push through and yet, he never heard you whine about it.
King’s hands moved on their own, and when they touched your cold body, the healing process began. He watched the dark bruise around your ribcage fade into nothing and observed how the fractured bones underneath the skin moved and shifted into their original places. The blood stopped soaking the bandages and once rid of them, Ryomen watched how your skin knitted back together, leaving nothing but a pale, pinkish scar. Every last bit of his power he put into the reverse cursed technique to repair as much damage as he could. Then, with his arm around your waist, he fell asleep next to you.
* * *
Waking up to a man in your bed wasn’t exactly something you’re used to — even if said man is Ryomen Sukuna who’s an often guest between your sheets. He never stays because he never cares enough to stay, not to mention staying in a tight embrace. You found yourself snuggled close to his side, your head resting on his muscular chest while his arm was wrapped around you, making sure you’re not going anywhere. His hand was resting exactly where the pain should be and with shock you realized there’s nothing — no hurt, no bandages that you have a dull memory of being wrapped in.
You didn’t heal yourself. You were too tired.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Sukuna’s voice stopped you, when you made an attempt to pull yourself away from him. He sounded lower than usual, raspier and unsettlingly not evil.
“Why are you still here?” You asked, running your hand over the bumps of muscles on his abdomen. “I’m so confused. I’m not togging to complaint though.”
“You’d try, silly woman,” he grunted, amused and squeezed your side more securely. “What the hell did you do to me, huh?”
“I don’t know, but I appreciate the healing,” you teased.
“Don’t ever talk about it.”
Laughing, you forced a groan of annoyance out of him — the kind of groan that let you know you're treading on thin ice and one thoughtless move could break it, one word not thought through enough could make you fall into the pit of cold and ice.
"What, you want me to forget that the King of Curses used his hard-earned power to heal a mere sorcerer? Not a chance."
"If that mere sorcerer bleeds to death, my power will be gone as well. I had a reason for it."
"If you say so, Sukuna," still amused, you pulled away from his embrace and got up from the bed, nearly dodging a slap he aimed at your ass.
That morning, you had breakfast with the King of Curses, bringing this wonderful adventure with him to an unexpected end. Afterwards, he kissed your breath away and left you confused as ever.
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Several weeks had passed until Ryomen once again entered your field of view. Unfortunate.
You had a day off, enjoying it in a café with your friends, seeping carelessly on a latte with the almond milk and a dash of honey. It was a beautiful day, warm too, and you thought nothing would mess this up but life proved you wrong when the curse stormed in, steaming with rage and madness and — call it intuition — it was a dead giveaway of why he showed up.
“Such a great day, huhhh–“ you wailed quietly, lifting your cup from the table before his fist broke the wood in half. It wasn’t hard to notice how absolutely furious he was and it made you both curious and alarmed.
“Give. Me. Something.” The man growled lowly, frustrated and outraged and you couldn’t recall any time you ever saw him that infuriated.
“I can’t, you kno–“ you tried to tell him, but before you even got the full sentence out, he already had his fingers wrapped around your neck. A sharp sound of glass shattering accompanied the quiet yelp you let out as he yanked you up and slammed your back onto the nearest wall. You felt your feet losing their contact with the ground.
“Give me something.” He repeated, his voice so low and menacing that it sent shivers down your spine. It felt as if you were speaking with death. He was so close, you felt his uneven breath on your face, the crimson of his eyes seemed to glow. “Give me something or I’ll fuck you right here and now to get it.”
The rage in his eyes, the absolute storm of bloodlust, you wondered what has gotten him so worked up. King of Curses had a short temper, yes. He was often annoyed, angry, of course, but such fury wasn’t typical to his character and you knew that if you refuse right now, he will surely go through with the threat he made and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. You’ll just get hurt.
“Put me down,” you tried, speaking calmly and wrapping your fingers around his forearm, hoping to give him a hint before your windpipe was fully crushed. Your heart was racing inside your chest, you heard the pulse in your ears, felt it in your head and neck. Fear wasn’t the most familiar feeling for you — you’ve grown accustomed to Sukuna’s violence, his tantrums and threats, his forceful ways of getting what he wanted and you also got to know him enough to know this kind of rage wasn’t caused by someone stepping on his toe or taking the last package of his favorite snack. This wasn’t caused by someone looking at him from the wrong angle. This was pure. Primal. “What happened?”
“Give me my power,” he said again, terrifyingly calm and he lowered you down so that your feet reached the floor again, but instead of letting go of your throat, he squeezed it even tighter, pressing his entire body against you. “I’m asking for the last time.”
Everyone present in the café — those who didn’t turn tail the second Sukuna raged inside — were too stunned to react, too petrified to intervene and you couldn’t blame them. The King of Curses, even stripped of most of his cursed energy, was still a threat not to be ignored. Still a menace, a mischievous demonic creature feared by curses, sorcerers and now also regular people that had a misfortune to meet him. The very sound of his name made all of them tremble in terror. You didn’t expect anyone to help you.
“I can’t breathe,” you struggled the words out, whispering on top of the very limited air that flew barely between your upper and lower parts of the respiratory systems. Sukuna growled but loosened the death grip he had on your neck, allowing the oxygen once again into your lungs. Then, you made a mistake. Then, you decided to trust him. “I hope you remember that I will be executed for this. Make it worth it.”
* * *
Later that day, deep into the night you woke up to a sudden slam of the doors. The very familiar, dark aura filled in your otherwise calm apartment and it took no effort to realize who just invaded your space. There were only two people brave enough to enter your home so recklessly and it wasn’t hard to tell them apart.
“Stay in bed,” Sukuna said once you pulled yourself up from the pillows and the mattress and he headed straight into your bathroom. “I need to wash up.”
You exhaled and lay back down, taking in the soft, monotone sound of the shower. You couldn’t tell why he was there, why did he come to your place and act like he owns it but frankly, you couldn’t care less right now about how he behaved. It somehow put you at ease that he decided to show up after what happened before. After what led you to face consequences you wished you wouldn’t have to face.
Few slurs broke up the hushed hum of water and soon it became quiet. Ryomen showed up in your bedroom just few moments after — partially dried, fully naked, with the black markings that adorned his pale skin on full display. Your eyes run down his silhouette, taking in the view no one else had a chance to experience and you let out an exhale. The man ruffled his hair with a towel, an attempt of making it less dripping, and casually slipped under the covers next to you, as if it was his place all along. You spared him the comments about how comfortable he had suddenly become within the confines of your apartment and waited patiently to hear whatever he had to say.
“There was a special curse user earlier,” he began nonchalantly, as he settled against the pillows, supporting his head with both of his arms crossed below it. “He was after you, wanted to suck out everything you have sealed inside.”
“I heard.”
“He wanted to, to quote him, fuck you dry of my power, kill you and make me watch as he became me. That was the plan, to take away the title of king.”
“So, it was about your reputation?” You questioned, letting out a deep sigh and turned away from him. He was quiet for a moment, his eyes piercing a hole through your back.
“Do you think I need to worry about my reputation?” Sukuna growled annoyed and you hummed softly, neither confirming nor denying.
“I guess not.”
You were tired. Exhausted. That was supposed to be your day off, your time to rest and reset but what it turned out to be, was just a disaster. You spent hours arguing with elders of Jujutsu community, trying over and over again to protect yourself, to defend your own life against the accusations that were being thrown at you from every angle and even Gojo couldn’t do much after you willingly released Sukuna’s power from the seal within you. It was bound to happen, you thought you were ready for it ever since it was mentioned for the first time. You were scheduled for execution as it seemed to be safer for the world to kill you, and king’s powers along, than to spare your life and risk it getting out of you, but Satoru then intervened, forcing the date to be postponed. You were high in ranks and he swore you’re capable of keeping the force safe and you did just that for the last twelve months. That’s until you decided to break all the rules and bend to Sukuna’s will.
It wasn’t just that. The cursed user revealed a way to loosen up the lock that held the danger away from the outside world, that he made it known that intimacy was a way to go, your future was decided already. With the knowledge out and about, the elders came to realization that in time there will be more curses or curse users that will come to you to get a taste of that sweet, sweet power and if they won’t do it, Sukuna will. Telling them that the amounts are insignificant didn’t help your case either — those pricks focused more on how you know that rather than what that meant. A diseaster.
“Now what’s wrong, huh? I didn’t kill anybody.”
King threw an arm around your waist, turning his body towards you and supporting his hand on his elbow to see you better. He pulled you into his chest, as if he wished to hide you completely inside his embrace, to protect you from whatever was weighing on your mind and you’d be very surprised if not for the turmoil now raging inside your head.
“My execution has been decided,” you spat out quietly and felt how every muscle in Sukuna’s body tensed significantly. “It’s scheduled for tomorrow night.”
“What execution? I didn’t kill anyone. I got rid of a fucking curse user. I even saved a little brat. Unintentionally, but still.”
“I know, Sukuna, and I am grateful. I really am, but–“
“But what?”
“They found out that sex creates an opening and it just got worse and worse from that moment. They wouldn’t listen and what could I even say to make it sound better. They already figured out that I’m sleeping with you which is enough of a reason to kill me.”
“And what did the jerk in the blindfold say?”
“There’s not much he can do at this point,” you sighed, mindlessly smoothing little circles over the hand that was keeping you close. “From what I know, Gojo stayed in Jujutsu high to discuss it further, but yeah… it’s tough.”
"Should I talk to them?"
"I'm not sure if you insulting or threatening them, could help in any way."
"So what, you expect me to agree to your death?"
"I've thought about it," you said quietly. "God, I'm naive, but I think I'll give you your power back before they execute me. I just hope you don't burn the world to ashes."
"Y/n, for fuck's sake, screw that power. I want you to live. I acted before because that bastard wanted to hurt you. I don't care about my reputation; I don't need to. Sure, it pisses me off that I was robbed of my energy," he babbled, rushing his words. You knew that he wasn't the best at explaining emotions and that he would rather die than admit that he cared for someone. "I need you alive."
"Did the King of Curses perhaps fell..."
"Don't push it," he snapped and you chuckled.
"You two are soooo cute."
Gojo’s voice cut through the tense atmosphere, as he materialized out of nowhere, nearly stopping your heart in the process. Last thing you expected was having him witness you in bed, with your back pressed to the very naked Sukuna and you should’ve seen that coming because you knew Satoru will step by once he’s done negotiating. While you were shocked, the curse didn’t even flinch. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”
"Satoru—" You lifted yourself up on one of your elbow. "Why are you here?"
"I come with good news," a grin spread across Gojo's face. "You will not be executed tomorrow. They took into consideration the fact that Sukuna helped a child and no one was hurt. Well, I forced them to consider it."
"It was an accident," Ryomen muttered in his own defense, but you glared at him, clearly ordering him to shut up. Oddly enough, this time he complied with no remarks.
"Happy little accidents, as they call it," Satoru giggled and spread his arms. "You're safe. Don't mess around too much for a while though. I'm talking to the curse."
Sukuna rolled his eyes, all four, expressing the particular inconvenience of the request, but you knew he'd tone himself down for as long as necessary.
"I can't believe you convinced them for the second time," you fell back into the pillow, relieved.
"What can I say, I have a strong personal charm," Satoru bowed theatrically. "So, are you two together or do you just fuck?"
"We can discuss that some other time, right?"
"Oh yeah, right. Stay safe, kids!" Saying that, Gojo disappeared and none of you even made an attempt to address how he called the thousand years old king a kid.
You let out a deep breath — the one you held for god knows how long — and felt the stress finally taking its toll on you. An exhaustion, sleepiness, anxiety – all of those came crawling at you at once.
"You're so tensed up," Sukuna purred, placing a small kiss on the side of your neck and he wouldn’t say it, but you could tell from the way his body felt against yours, that the tension left him as well. "You can relax now."
"Right," you muttered, sighing and with the encouragement of his hand, you turned to his face and immediately met his lips. He kissed you like a starved man, with a hand on the back of your neck. Murmuring, you surrendered to his touch, allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling of his mouth, to forget about the cruel and cold world around you and to indulge in whatever that was that you had with Sukuna. “We can relax now.”
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harunayuuka2060 · 9 days
Text
Ace: Yo! When we were outside, someone tried to scout Yuurin to be a model!
Ace: And girls started to flock around him!
Riddle, Deuce, Trey, and Cater: ...
Cater: Wish that was you, huh?
Ace: *frowns*
Deuce: *laughs*
Trey: So what did he do?
Ace: Well, he politely declined the talent scout. As for the girls, he just thanked them for the compliments they gave him.
Riddle: No surprises there. He's a gentleman.
Riddle: If only you were more like him, Ace.
Ace: Hey! I'm a gentleman too!
Deuce: Where?
Ace: You don't see it because you're not a girl!
Ruggie: Thank you for helping me out with the cooking.
Yuurin: Don't mention it, Ruggie-senpai.
Ruggie: *looking at the dish she made*
Ruggie: ...
Ruggie: Is it okay if we don't serve that?
Yuurin: Why?
Ruggie: It looks good. What is it called?
Yuurin: Moussaka.
Ruggie: Moussaka... Yeah. That'll be my lunch. Shishishi!
Leona: *walks in*
Ruggie: Oh, hey Leona! We're just done with the—
Leona: *sees the Moussaka*
Leona: You cooked this, Yuurin?
Yuurin: *nods*
Ruggie: I'm sure you wouldn't like that. It has vegetables in it—
Leona: *already taking it with him*
Ruggie: L-Leona?!
Leona: *exits the kitchen*
Ruggie: Nooooo!
Ruggie: My lunch...
Ruggie: He stole it...
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: *pulls out another batch from the oven*
Ruggie: *gasps*
Yuurin: This is yours, Ruggie-senpai.
Ruggie: ...
Ruggie: Yuurin... You're the best sister ever.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Don't cry, senpai...
Cater: Did you hit jackpot today, Ruggie-kun? Your lunch looks fancy.
Ruggie: Yuurin prepared this for me! *grinning cutely*
Cater: Eh? That guy can cook too?
Ruggie: Yep. *starts eating his food*
Ruggie: *lets out a purr-like noise; his ears twitching*
Cater: ...
Cater: Oh you look cute, Ruggie-kun! Can I take you a picture?
Ruggie: *immediately frowns* No. And don't bother me while I'm eating.
Cater: Aww....
Floyd: Hello, damselfish~.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: Are you referring to me?
Floyd: Who else~ There's no one around here other than us~.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: I don't think we have met before.
Floyd: I'm a member of the Basketball Club~.
Floyd: It's nice to meet you~.
Yuurin: Oh. I see.
Floyd: ...
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: It seems like there is nothing you need from me.
Yuurin: I'll be taking my leave now. *turns her back on him*
Floyd: You shouldn't have turned your back on me.
Yuurin: !!!
Azul and Jade: *hears someone knocking on the door*
Azul: That must be Floyd.
Jade: Hm? I didn't expect him to finish the task early.
Azul: Maybe he was in the mood. *opens the door*
Yuurin: *carrying the unconscious Floyd like a sack of rice* *intimidatingly looks at Azul*
Azul: ...
Azul: *smiles* What happened?
Yuurin: This upperclassman tried to attack me.
Yuurin: Would you explain why, Housewarden of Octavinelle?
Azul: ...
Azul: Oh dear. He must've misunderstood the task I gave him.
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: *goes back to her neutral expression* I see.
Yuurin: *puts Floyd gently down on the floor*
Yuurin: I hope this doesn't happen again.
Yuurin: Or you'll see him with a broken limb.
Azul and Jade: ...
Jade: *chuckles* Oh you have just become his favorite person.
Yuurin: Huh?
Floyd: Damselfish~!
Riddle: Floyd?!
Floyd: Oh! You're here too, goldfishy~!
Yuurin: ...
Yuurin: How are you feeling, Floyd-senpai?
Floyd: It's great~! I drank a healing potion, so all of my injuries are gone now~.
Yuurin: That's good.
Riddle: ...
Riddle: Did you engage in combat with him?!
Yuurin: Yes.
Floyd: It was fun~.
Riddle: ...
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