#I’ll try and make a part two

[poppedbubblgum]

I’ve always liked the headcanon that Raph has trouble with his sight after getting krangified.

[krystalisedsoul]

Cafe Nero

Yandere Illumi Zoldyck x Reader

Summary: Illumi, having finished his job for the day, ventured into town and encountered the cafe his grandfather recommended heavily to him.

Notes: just Illumi getting butterflies seeing the reader lol

Word Count: 1154

The city breathed in the damp, metallic air of an approaching storm, its streets slick with the faint sheen of rain that had not yet fallen. Streets wound like veins through the urban body, pulsing with the life of countless strangers who moved with the aimless purpose of ants beneath a magnifying glass. Lanterns flickered weakly against the encroaching dusk, their light swallowed by the shadows that pooled in the alleys and clung to the edges of buildings like stains. Illumi moved through the throng of bodies with the ease of a shadow slipping through cracks, his presence unnoticed, his existence unacknowledged. The crowd parted around him as if by some unspoken instinct, their laughter and chatter fading into a muffled hum that did not touch him. He was a void, a silence where sound should have been, and the world seemed to bend itself away from him, as though afraid to acknowledge what it could not understand.

Neon signs buzzed overhead, their garish colors bleeding into the twilight, while the scent of street food—sizzling meat, fried dough, and spices—mingled with the acrid tang of exhaust. It was a place of life, of noise, of chaos, and yet, in the midst of it all, there was a pocket of stillness.

Illumi stood at the center of the sidewalk, his presence an anomaly in the bustling crowd. He did not move, did not flinch, as people flowed around him like water around a stone. His black suit, impeccably tailored, seemed to absorb the light, its fabric undisturbed by the wind or the press of bodies. The collar of his shirt was stark against his pale skin, and the silver pin at his throat caught the flicker of a passing headlight, a brief, cold glint in the dimness. His gloves, black and fitted, rested at his sides, their surface smooth and unblemished, as though untouched by the grime of the city.

His face was a study in calm, its features sharp and symmetrical, as though carved from marble by a hand that valued precision above all else. His eyes, dark and depthless, scanned the crowd without interest, their gaze passing over the faces around him as though they were little more than shadows. His hair, long and ink-black, fell in straight, unbroken lines around his face, its stillness a stark contrast to the wind that tugged at the coats and scarves of those who passed him by.

The device in his hand buzzed softly, its screen illuminating with a message from his client. The words were brief, devoid of unnecessary sentiment: "Payment sent." Illumi’s expression did not change, but there was a subtle shift in the set of his jaw, a faint tightening that spoke of satisfaction. His lips, pale and finely shaped, did not curve into a smile, but there was something in the stillness of his face, a quiet intensity, that hinted at the cold pleasure he took in the completion of a task.

Around him, the crowd continued to move, their voices rising and falling in a cacophony of sound. A child laughed, high and bright, as they darted past him, their small hand clutching a balloon that bobbed in the air. A vendor called out, their voice hoarse from hours of shouting, offering steaming buns to anyone who would listen. But Illumi noticed none of it. To him, the world was a blur of motion and noise, a thing to be observed but not engaged with. He was a fixed point in the chaos, a stillness in the storm.

For a moment, he remained there, his gaze fixed on the screen in his hand, the faint glow of the device reflecting in his eyes. Then, with a movement so fluid it seemed almost inhuman, he slipped the device into his pocket and stepped forward. The crowd parted around him, their movements instinctive, as though some primal part of them recognized the danger he represented. He did not look back, did not pause, but continued down the street, his footsteps silent against the pavement.

The neon lights flickered overhead, their colors washing over him in waves, but they did not touch him. He was a shadow, a void, a thing apart from the world around him. And as he disappeared into the crowd, the street seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, as though it had been holding its breath the entire time he was there.

Illumi stopped, noticing a café standing at the corner of the square, its windows glowing with a warmth that felt almost obscene in the grayness of the evening. Steam curled against the glass, obscuring the figures inside, but Illumi’s gaze passed over them without interest. ‘Cafe Nero’, his grandfather had mentioned this place, the drinks and bakery becoming one of his favourites when visiting town. Seeing as he finished his work for the day and it wasn’t too late, he decided to make his way to the door.

His eyes, dark and unblinking, were drawn instead to the girl seated near the window. She was a burst of color in a monochrome world, her laughter spilling into the air with a carelessness that felt almost violent. She leaned forward, her hands animated as she spoke, and the people around her leaned in as if pulled by some invisible force. They orbited her like planets around a sun, their faces bright with the reflected glow of her presence.

Illumi did not move. He stood at the edge of the square, his stillness a stark contrast to the fluid motion of the crowd. His hands, gloved and precise, hung at his sides, but his fingers twitched faintly, as though plucking at an invisible thread. He did not know her name, nor did he care to. Names were trivial things, labels for objects that held no meaning. What he saw was not a person but a disruption, a ripple in the carefully ordered fabric of his world. She was wasteful, her energy spent on frivolities—laughter, conversation, connection—things that served no purpose, things that could not be quantified or controlled. And yet, she lingered in his mind like a splinter, small but impossible to ignore.

The wind shifted, carrying with it the faint scent of coffee and pastries, and for a moment, the sound of her laughter reached him. It was a bright, discordant note in the symphony of the city, and it cut through the silence of his thoughts like a blade. His jaw tightened, the faintest flicker of tension betraying the smooth mask of his expression. He turned away, his coat swirling around him like a shadow given form, and disappeared into the crowd.

But the thread remained, thin and unbreakable, tugging at the edges of his consciousness. As Illumi set on his journey back to his mountain, his expression did not change, but something in him shifted, like the slow, inevitable turn of a key in a lock.

[emily-mooon]

Nancy Wheeler the shoujo manga protagonist you are what with your love triangle and everything about you my pookie <3

[padfootastic]

truly one of the worst ways james and sirius’ characters were butchered (both by canon and fanon) is the implication that they thought remus was the traitor or spy because he’s a werewolf.

those boys did not spend 3 YEARS becoming ANIMAGI and risking their body, mind, and soul, as well as courting azkaban just to turn around and give in to prejudice against creatures???? like yes, i realise war makes enemies of everyone and it heightens paranoia, suspicion etc etc but this is just the laziest of all reasons??? if they weren’t scared of remus in school, after watching him transform, and they still used the damn nicknames, then why would they suddenly think his furry little problem made him unreliable??

and at that!!!! what tf kind of sense does it make for them to believe that remus was the traitor and then…do absolutely nothing about it???? the whole bullshit only checks out if they all firmly believed each other. if they thought one of them was a spy for the DARK LORD, then why would they shut up about it??? both james and sirius clearly realised the war was about more than just them; they would not be hiding a potential spy if they knew about it.

this is honestly why the whole thing, and r/s reconciliation rubs me the wrong way. if they thought remus was untrustworthy, then give me a reliable reason other than him being a were. (i’ve got a few but none of them are ever used in fics). and even if they had some doubts about remus, it would still never make up for his belief that sirius betrayed the potters and joined the DEs. ever. that’s entirely a false equivalence.

[toca144]

Depression can be wicked funny sometimes. Like wdym it ruined my life by sucking joy out of every one of my hobbies and interests, but I defeated it (temporarily) by drawing oc x canon. Got so sad I couldn’t draw anymore and hated it but I wanted to have images of those dorks kissing so bad I got back into drawing and out of my bed and now I’m doing much better. The power of yuri.

[heartsouls]

no plz tell me all your thoughts about the gregory hate so I can reblog it💀

OHHH boy this is gonna be a long one buckle up

Ever since Gregory was first announced I believe most of the fandom have interpreted him as this frail child who was always on the verge of tears and needed G.Freddy’s protection (think C.C 2.0), but once the game came out most ppl were shocked to see this kid actually has a lot of bite to him and kicked ass (ppl’s first reactions to him destroying the animatronics still make me laugh).

This was MY first introduction to him, so I wasn’t completely taken aback but still pleasantly surprised. Most if not all his actions made sense or at least made sense for a 10yr boy to think/act. Giant robots coming after me with the intention to kill (and insulting me for no damn reason)? Yeah I’d probably add an extra kick in there for good measure. Then came the first repair scene, when Vanessa revealed the high possibility of Gregory being an homeless orphan everything just clicked into place for me.

OF COURSE that’s why Gregory was so aggressive, he had to learn how to fight on his own to survive he’d probably had to face even worse than this! He wasn’t going to let that all go to waste bc some weird murderous rabbit lady wanted to drag him into her plans. It explains why he brushed off G.Freddy’s worries about him bc he’s used to have to just keep moving and bare thru pain, especially in an environment where that’s really the ONLY thing you can do. It’s why he’s so blunt and can come off as rude bc he was most likely never taught how to behave “correctly” bc really who has the time?

He was just using all the knowledge he learned on how to survive from a cruel and harsh environment for another. But this time he has an ally for once, an adult (father) figure who actually cares about his wellbeing, it’s no wonder why he became so attached (but struggles to show it bc he’s not used to it). And through all that easily irritable aggression, there are moments to remind us he’s still a kid.

A useless fridge magnet? Yeah that is pretty lame man.

Now imagine my shock when I see others hating on him and calling him a villain. “How could he KILL the poor animatronics? He was so mean, he’s the true monster!” Wh- DID WE WATCH THE SAME GAME? You mean the same animatronics that says he doesn’t have anyone to care about him? Yeah real sweethearts they are. Gregory isn’t a damn monster, he’s a survivor! He’s doing what he only knows best, IT’S TO SURVIVE!

“How could he be so mean to G.Freddy??? Those are his friends! He made Freddy feel bad!” Trust me when I say that Gregory cares about G.Freddy ALOT, did you see his reactions whenever G.Freddy got hurt??? That’s his father thank you very much!

“How could he have killed Vanny in that one ending?! He’s the real villain!” …Do I even need to explain this one?

And ohhhhhh don’t get me started on the awful “bratty gremlin devil” Gregory HCs. Now this isn’t to say that Gregory can’t be a gremlin or whatever. He can be, he is a bit cheeky, but then some started to intensify it and made it his entire personality. No, Gregory wasn’t just itching to rip Roxy’s eyes out or do the next batshit insane thing, he noticed the other upgrades and put two and two together (It gets more weird and slightly disrespectful when they add in the homeless thing as if that automatically makes someone act “feral”….tiktok.)

And then we have the complete opposite where some portray him as what I mentioned in the first paragraph. The poor helpless child who cant handle anything by himself…even though that’s complete bullshit (he’s also usually portrayed to be obnoxiously sweet for some reason). I don’t think many ppl realize how often were not in G.Freddy during SB, and Gregory is described to be quick on his feet and wits (plus his tools) and he doing damn well by himself! [Obviously this isnt to say that he didnt need G.Freddy’s help and protection, ofc he did, he just didnt need to RELY on it like some ppl make it seem he did].

(I know we went a bit off-topic for the last two paragraphs, trust me it connects)

All of this comes down to simply that some just can’t accept the fact that Gregory isn’t their perfect victim. He doesn’t crumble to the floor and beg for G.Freddy to help him up like they want him too. He’s not shy and sheepishly asking for help like they think he’s supposed to. And when they realize that part they try to push him into the other far end where he’s crazy, cold, and cruel. But he’s not. He cares, and he cares deeply. He’s still a little boy, he cried and tried to cover his face when he saw Vanny die. He should be leaping in victory, he killed his killer after all right? But he didn’t, bc despite everything she was still a human being, and he was so scared.

He has complex trauma (duh), he’s not this way or that way, and I get it. It’s hard to write or draw that kind of trauma for Gregory, especially when SB didn’t really give us much. But the way ppl act as if that’s what he actually is is soooooo frustrating. In my opinion the fact that his trauma is so complex and the fact he’s not your typical written victim is what makes him so interesting! And I feel like a lot ppl were slowly getting around to it…

Until GGY and Ruin happened and the hate came back so much worse, Welcome to the real Freddy Hell.

[quinn-pop]

yet another oc that only exists because i wanted to write something very specific

(middle is a little older, hence her scar healing. i like to think she gets a glass eye at some point)

anyway this is mira! (they/she) since that wip is almost 20k words and counting i won’t give away too much but long story short she’s the result of meta going “one last time, i promise” and adopting yet another kid

also galaxia kinda indirectly picked the name :)

i’ve mentioned before that i headcanon that pretty much all astrals are autistic and this is just kinda an extension of that. whereas meta tends to suppress his emotions and conform to others, mira…doesn’t. she gets uncomfortable and upset and lashes out at people easily, and working through their emotions is no small task.

the main reason i chose to write them that way was for the sake of narrative but i’ve grown attached to it because there’s a lot of ideas there i’d like to explore. stuff about navigating emotions and relationships when existing is so suffocatingly uncomfortable. it’s not something i could center around Kirby himself, but i think it makes sense with a post character development meta knight.

they are very loved (omg oldee cameo???)

kirby was definitely very excited to have younger siblings after being used to being the youngest in the room for so long!! (with the like. one and only exception being gooey.) he’s super affectionate with both of them and wants to have a close relationship one day, but for now mira is pretty unappreciative of that fact lol. they don’t like being pestered for hugs

everyone else is okay tho

(i know that’s hard to read. oops. “obvious bite marks”. siblings being siblings.)

mira also has a very love/hate relationship with the egg kid, being so close in age they kinda Have to get along but in typical sibling nature they also fight a lot. sure it’s probably rough for a while but i think in the end they’d be good buddies. maybe not as close as Kirby and Bandee but still.

anyway i have a lot of thoughts and am very busy but. i’m really enjoying writing about all this lately it’s been fun ^^

[seventh-district]

babe wake up a new Venti-coded song just droppped

“I’m as sober as a drunk.

I’m as high as rock bottom.

Free as a man with his hands handcuffed to the bar.”

[justagaycryptid]

Since when could we summon Torrent in the fight against the Elden Beast???

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Drawing a six of wands, then a five of pentacles, then a reversed The Hermit, then The World in the same row is wild. What do you mean by that

“You will be victorious but also you’re going to suffer financial hardships and withdraw socially and become paranoid, but the world is at your feet and you will reap the benefits of your hard work!” ????????? Excuse me what

[lesbiansanemi]

Can Twitter finally just fucking implode I am so sick of hearing about that stupid ass website

[aussie-tomcat]

Whumptober 2023

Day 15: Makeshift bandages

Snowy hissed in pain as she tried to clean the gash on her leg with a damp rag. While avoiding being caught by the authorities, she went through an abandoned building as an attempt to lose them, having jumped through a window tog get out. The plan worked, but she fell onto the ground in the process, with a glass shard piercing her leg. The only until she was certain she lost them in an alleyway before she could look at the wound and began treating it to the best of her ability.

After cleaning the gash and making sure it stopped bleeding, she tore a bit of her cloak and wrapped it around her leg to create a makeshift bandage. It wasn’t ideal nor professionally done, but it’ll have to do, just until she was able to get proper bandages. She could only hope the wound doesn’t get infected in the meantime…

She stood up slowly and tried to walk on the leg, but a sharp pain shot through her body. Rest seemed to be the only option for now. Sitting back down, Snowy leaned back against the wall and wrapped herself with her ragged cloak. Maybe some sleep would help. It was nighttime, and the police likely gave up on finding her for the time being. She closed her eyes and fell into a light sleep.

………………

Part 1: you’re here!

Part 2:

Part 3: coming soon

[gregmarriage]

i forgot that ppl know what my voice sounds like, bc i was about to make a whole post about hearing my own voice on mic, then i was like, yeah no, ppl are aware my voice is weird imaoooo

[asiatic-apple]

What the birthday boy wants...

aka, marathon sex

Caleb x female reader

You’ve spent weeks planning for this day. The bakery order. The string lights. The playlist tailored to every one of Caleb’s favorite songs. A whole night built around making him feel as loved, celebrated, and special as he always makes you feel.

But when your boyfriend steps through the door, none of it matters anymore.

He drops his bag, eyes locking on you like you’re the only thing in the world worth seeing. He barely spares a second glance at the birthday banner above the kitchen. Doesn’t notice the cake, frosted to perfection and waiting on the counter. Not even the presents lined up in a neat little row by the sofa.

All he can focus on is you. Standing there in that dress he’s obsessed with—the one he bought for you and said made you look “dangerous.”

“Happy birthday,” you say, soft and nervous while fidgeting with the black ribbon on the strap of your dress.

He doesn’t answer. You blink and he’s surging toward you like gravity has shifted and his body has no choice but to fall into yours.

Caleb kisses you like he’s starving.

No gentle greeting, no birthday speech about how lucky he is (he’s definitely thinking it, though). Just his mouth crashing into yours, hands gripping your soft waist like he needs to anchor himself while he loses control.

You stumble back blindly, barely registering that he’s walking you toward the wall until your spine hits plaster and his hands are already sliding beneath your dress.

“I’m sorry,” he whines, leaving sloppy kisses along your jaw, your throat, then the top of your cleavage. “I know you planned so much. I saw it. And I swear I love it all. But I can’t—I can’t do any of it right now.”

Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling his head back just enough to see his eyes. His pupils are so dark and dilated that you barely see the rings of vibrant violet around them. Yet through his desire, he manages a needy pout—begging for forgiveness even as he looks ready to fuck you into the wall.

“Caleb, you don’t have to apologize.” Chuckling softly, you brush your fingers through the hair along the nape of his neck. “If this is what you want, then I can’t deny the birthday boy.”

That’s all the permission he needs before he’s back on you again.

“All I’ve thought about today is you,” he groans. “Knew you’d be waitin’ for me, all dolled up. So fuckin’ gorgeous.”

It’s clear he’s getting more and more riled up as his hands wander your body. You love when he gets like this, all slurred words from being drunk on the sight and feel of you. He hasn’t even gotten your dress off yet, but he’s already a mess.

“I don’t want dinner,” he murmurs, fingers trailing up to tickle the band of your panties. “Don’t want cake. Just want you.” His declaration makes you whimper, thighs already pressing together at the sound of his voice—how low it drops, how hungry it sounds. “Please, baby. Wanna taste you. I need it.”

One shaky nod from you is all it takes and then he drops to his knees, eyes locked on yours as he tugs your panties down your legs.

“I’ll make it up to you for ruinin’ your plans,” he says. “Gonna lick this sweet pussy ‘til the candles on that cake melt.”

You barely manage a breath before his mouth is on you.

There’s no buildup, no teasing. He’s too impatient to take his time—and he already has plans to fuck your cunt with his tongue all night long anyway, so he doesn’t need to savor this.

He devours you, tongue parting your folds, hot and wet and focused as he sucks on your clit like he’s trying to get drunk off the taste of you. His large hands envelop your thighs, keeping you still as you shake against the wall.

It’s barely been two minutes of his lips on you and it already feels like you’re close to coming. The way his head is buried beneath the frilly skirt of your dress, his fingers digging into your plush skin—it’s so filthy that it makes the pressure build in the pit of your stomach. 

His tongue keeps flicking your clit with a single-minded focus on making you come as hard and fast as humanly possible. The devastating rhythm has you gushing all over his lips while you cry his name. If you could see him right now, you’d catch the sinful sight of your juices mixed with his spit as it trails down his chin and neck.

“Fuck,” you gasp, hips stuttering forward. “Caleb, you’re gonna make me–”

“Do it,” he growls against your pussy. His words are muffled while he’s unwilling to part from your flesh for even a second. “Come f’me…”

Your orgasm hits hard, too fast, the pleasure spiking so sharp that your legs buckle as he groans against you. And Caleb keeps licking and sucking you through it like he wants to wring you dry.

He stands before your knees fully give out, catching you with one strong arm around your waist. You desperately try to suck in deep breaths, but they catch in your throat at the sight of his slicked up mouth and chin—coupled with lust-blown eyes that say he only wants more.

“You taste so sweet,” he murmurs. “Better than cake, I bet.” Then he kisses you—tongue and all—and you moan into it, dizzy from how quickly you reached your peak.

He lifts you into his arms effortlessly and carries you to the bedroom, shedding clothes with barely restrained urgency. His shirt hits the floor. His belt clatters across the carpet (god, it’s so hot when he undoes it with just one hand).

He kisses you between every hurried step, mouthing every patch of skin he can reach without ever slowing down. A quick bite on your bottom lip. Then he sucks harshly on the sensitive spot under your ear, surely trying to leave a mark that lasts.

When your back hits the bed, you reach for his cock already peeking out between the unzipped top of his pants. He’s already achingly hard, already leaking enough precum to make the lazy glide of your hand so smooth and slick.

Caleb shudders from your touch and whispers, “Need you, baby. Need you so bad I can’t think straight.”

You don’t keep him waiting any longer. He hikes your dress up around your hips while you guide him to your entrance. And then he pushes inside fully with one deep stroke.

“Fuck, yes,” he groans, bracing himself over you, arms trembling. “God, you feel so good. So perfect—always so wet for me.”

His thrusts start fast. Like he can’t slow down even if he wants to. The tip of his cock drags against your g-spot so deliciously that your eyes roll back. And he watches in awe, mesmerized by the way you moan for him.

You claw at his back and wrap your legs around his waist as he pounds into you, the bed creaking beneath every motion. It’s not long before you come again with a sob, nails digging into his shoulders as you clench around him. He kisses the tears from your cheeks and slows for a moment before pulling out.

The sudden loss makes your breath stutter in confusion. But just as quickly, he flips you over and pulls you onto your hands and knees.

“Don’t worry, pips,” he pants, pressing back into you with a broken groan. “I’m not done with you. Need to make you come again.”

You’re not sure if you’ll even be able to do what he wants when your whole pussy is tingling with oversensitivity. But he fucks you through it—through your cries, through the overstimulation, through the way your arms collapse beneath you and he has to wrap an arm around your stomach just to hold you upright.

You can feel him shaking behind you, can hear how close he is in the way his voice starts breaking, the way he whispers, “Gonna come inside you, fill you up—fuck—gonna mark you.” When your moans pitch higher, it only makes him even more crazed. “Yeah, you want that?” he murmurs, thrusts turning more erratic. “Then you gotta come for me again, pretty girl.”

Before you can say a word, his fingers glide down your front. They dip beneath your dress and hastily lock onto your clit, rolling and pinching the throbbing bud with the intent to make you flutter around him.

The two of you come together this time, your moans entangling and turning into the most obscene symphony.

Caleb twitches inside you before spilling one of the biggest loads you’ve ever taken from him. It leaks from your swollen pussy when he pulls out, but he wastes no time smearing it around and pushing some of it back inside with two thick fingers.

You can already tell your dress is going to be ruined—the top all damp with sweat and the hem messy with your combined releases. 

It’d make sense for Caleb to stop now. After such an intense orgasm, you’re expecting him to be too tired and not hard enough to keep going.

But when he eases his fingers out of your sore pussy and rolls you onto your back, his eyes are still full of something wild.

And when you glance down at his cock, it’s already half-hard again.

He slides back into you slowly, cradling your jaw with one hand and your thigh with the other. He moves like he wants to memorize every part of your body.

Every time you whimper, he moans. Every time you cry out, he praises you.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers. “So good for me, letting me have you again and again.”

You lose track of time. Hours blur into one long, aching haze of pleasure. He takes you every way he can—on your back, on your side with your leg hitched around his waist, then riding him until he’s trembling beneath you and gasping your name like a prayer.

And every time you come, he tells you how good you are. How lucky he is to have you. How you’re the only present he ever wants on his birthday.

You’ve lost count of how many orgasms you’ve had when you’re wrung out and raw, eyes glassy, thighs trembling and sticky.

But Caleb is still insatiable. Still making up for all the years he never got to have you like this. Your legs are spread by his strong hands, and he licks into you again—achingly slow this time. You’re not sure if it’s because he’s finally getting tired or if he just wants to take his time worshipping you.

“Hm, you taste even better after I’ve come inside you,” he whispers.

You moan, twitching beneath him, and he just smiles against your folds.

It takes longer now that you’ve had so many orgasms already, but he diligently pulls one more out of you. And after you come with such a sweet moan, you both collapse in a tangled heap, breathless and sore.

Caleb yanks you to his chest, his fingers playing with your hair while you catch your breath. His eyes are still half-lidded with desire as he mumbles, “Best birthday I’ve ever had.”

You snort. “You didn’t even get to blow out your candles.”

He looks at you with a lazy, wrecked smile. “I blew your back out instead.”

You swat his chest, but he catches your hand and kisses your fingers, then the inside of your wrist with a wet smack.

“I’m still not done,” he says, like it’s a threat. But you must be just as crazy as he is, because you faintly feel the pulse of arousal between your thighs yet again.

“Caleb, isn’t it getting too late–”

“It’s still my birthday for another hour,” he purrs, dragging his mouth along your sweaty neck. “Doesn’t that mean I get whatever I want?”

Your breath hitches and your body gets all worked up again as he slides his leaking cock up and down your slit.

“And what I want,” he whispers, “well…you already know.”

a/n: thank you to the anon who requested this!

💕 tag list: @heartyluv @doeeyes515 @lethalasylum @starryeyed-apple @starlitfics @craeatio @rafayelslittlestar @ruralamours @alyssac9 @blushofeve @alastor-simp @nezuswritingdesk

🍎 tag list: @walleeli @honeymoonfleur @stargirlygirl @floatinginaer @k-lq20 @sweatybonkhumanoidranch @gravity-pilot @honeycrispangels

Want to be added to my tag list?

mdni banner by @/cafekitsune divider by @/strangergraphics

[tonycries]

She's My Vitals!

Synopsis. The best part about a séx ban? When they’re broken!

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, séx bans, bondagé, PÚSSYDRUNK BOYS, creampíes, CÚMPLAY, spítting, true form! Sukuna, dp, pússy-slappíng, chokíng Nanami, BRÉEDING, markíng, making him whíne, talking to her, jealous Nanami, fínger-súcking, NÉEDY boys, “just the típ”, heinous things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. LAST LEAK DAY HOW ARE WE FEELING BBYGIRLS??

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 1 week…almost

“Oh god…” he’s rasping out, skimming a thick thumb over where your flimsy panties were the most translucent. Just the sticky sheen of saturated slick makes him salivate, neglected cock throbbing with how much he’s missed you. “Y’really got me begging, huh, naughty girl?”

Now, Toji Fushiguro doesn’t ask for attention - either you come to him with that cute pout of yours, begging him to fuck you full of his long, solid inches or you don’t. Toji Fushiguro doesn’t grovel - he’s never just barely lasted only a measly week since being punished with a sex ban. Banging at your door soon after, strong arms just wrangling his pretty girl to the ground right then and there. 

But here he was. 

“S-so eager.” you’re humming, the hardwood floors of your hallway chafes lightly underneath your arched back. Your nails dig into his muscled shoulders, holding back a giggle at the way he’s already so gone. Eyes droopy, abs flexing, panting. “Affected so much by-”

“-just a week?” Two rough hands knead at your ass, dragging your body forwards to grind his angry cock in a sultry push. “A week of hell, you mean.”

There’s a soft smack! gifted right onto your puffed-up clit, and Toji has the audacity to laugh - laugh, all low and humorless when your needy cunt gushes out in another way of your syrupy sweet juices. 

“Though…” he circles his thick, reddish head over your quivering entrance, gliding over the glistening mess you’ve made. Coating around your puffy teasingly with every ribbon of his thick precum, “-seems like I wasn’t the- hah- only one all desperate n’ shit for you.” That sinful scar positioned on his lips grazes jaggedly against yours in a lazy kiss, “Missed me, woman?”

You’re rolling your eyes, “Real rich coming from-” And Toji can’t do anything but watch when your hand dips down between your two pressed-up bodies to wrap around his fat hilt. He throws his head back, swearing when you just slot his leaky tip between your swollen folds. Sensitive and so swelteringly hot. “-the same man that almost broke down my door at two in the m-morning because he missed me too much, Toji.”

Fuck- fuck, Toji doesn’t think he even heard whatever just came out of your mouth. No, he was way too busy trying not to fucking pass out. Humping you pathetically as if in heat now, gulping at the dripping wet squelches from down below. Shit, his favorite song.

“Say it.” You’re feeling two of his thick palms come up to rest atop your head, lacing those thick fingers of his slowly. “Say my name again.”

It was almost endearing how tough he still tried to sound. Acting like his body wasn’t wracking with a jolting shudder every time you’re grinding your hips up in steady gyrations against his rock-hard cock. 

“Say what now?” you purr, silky sweet. Peppering a lingering kiss against his forehead, his scar, only to have him bite down on your lower lip in warning. “Toji? The same Toji that was so mean to me - ignoring me for some stupid mission? The same big, bad Toji Fushiguro who took less than a week to crack-”

“M’sorry!” And usually you’d love to tease Toji more for the way he was cutting you off so much, but he just sounded like he was in utter wreck. Lips wobbling, a baritone ah! ah! ah! leaving with each sopping glissade of your cunt across his twitchy shaft. “There! I said it. Won’t- won’t miss another one of our hngh! d-dates for a job, m’kay? Fuck this sex ban- I’ll even answer your cute calls in the middle of finishing off a target if I have to just please-”

Ah, there it was.

The heady hallway - fuck, you two hadn’t even made it to the bed, yet - rings out with the soft thwack! of Toji’s heavy, cum-filled balls against your ass. Only increasing in volume with each greedier and greedier little half-thrust into your snug cunt. 

“Ngh! Toji- Toji f-fuck.” you’re keening at the feeling of all the air in your lungs being thoroughly pushed out. “Y-you’re lucky you’re so convincing-”

And he feels so hot, dizzy head being flung back at the heavenly suck of your pussy swallowing him up. Being stretched so gapingly open, it’s like his girth is contorting your velvety walls to his very shape. Stretching you out so much, massaging your sweet spots without even trying, reaching for your very womb-

“Ha-ahh- so tight- fuck- no wonder I almost broke yer damn door down.” he’s breathing out. The words finally registering, “Is it me that’s convincing or is it-” His biceps bulge with effort, rippling as the vice-like restraint above you is pushing you down, down, down to his hold. “-is it this?” 

You can’t even form an answer if you wanted to - because Toji was hunching over his hulking body to bully his fat cock into you in thorough, jagged ruts of his hips. Keeping you stuck in his vice-like hold, fully in the face of all his pressurized thrusts.

“What? Cat got yer- ngh tongue?” Toji smiles, smugly. Obscenely. “I missed your p-pretty voice just as much as this cunt, y’know? Why don’t ya use those words f’me, doll?”

Your entire body just jerks upwards when one of his soft palms plant back down on your clit, giving another simpering smack!

“Yes!” you’re spitting, and there’s such a supple satisfaction in Toji’s movements now. “M-missed this- missed you so much…”

“Tha’s fuckin’ right. Never gonna let ya forget it.” He’s grunting throatily at your answer, the soft, rounded pads of his fingers swirl over your stinging clit, eager to give another playful slap. He stills - and you whine, grinding down pleadingly. Exactly how he wanted it. “So why dontcha fuck back into me n’ show me, you lil’ tease?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 17 days

There’s a slow, syrupy puddle growing on your inner thighs - not between them, no, on top of them. Glossing down your skin in a milky ooze, Nanami’s red, achy cock right in the center of it all. Rubbing and grinding rawly between your thighs, he’s rutting forward like he’s out of control-

“M-my love.” Even those words sound so wrecked, Nanami’s soft baritone cracking, a few octaves higher than usual. “Are you- hah- doing okay?”

Your kiss-bitten pout makes his thick length jolt in interest, surging forwards to kiss them. “I am, Ken. Which is why I r-really want you to break the-”

“No!” he’s gasping, and there’s another harsh glissade of his glisteningly wet cock just across your puffed-up folds. Two firm hands hold your squirming hips still while he fucks your thighs even sloppier. Drowsy, almost. “No no no- we can’t. Don’t wanna overwork my gorgeous wife, sh-she’s already had such a long month at work, no?”

You shake your head stubbornly, pulling on the loosened end of his favorite speckled yellow tie to just drag Nanami even closer. “M’not-”

“But- the project-”

“Told you m’not overworked, okay, Ken?” Within only a few moments, you’ve got your trembly legs hooked around muscled hips, feeling his dick reach every single one of your hidden sweet spots and crannies with just the single inch he’s sinking in. Accidentally - but oh, an accident never felt so good. “Besides…e-even with this annoying new project, the month’s been even hah- longer because of this sex ban. I really, really miss you inside me–”

“Oh…better not have told me that.” He breathes into the crook of your neck, hiding away that rosy blush high on his cheeks. And before you can comfort your dear husband - or maybe make him even more flustered - he’s giving one, solid thrust into the depths of your awaiting cunt. Slowly. “After- after so long. Fuuuck- you shouldn’t have told me that.”

Giving a steady roll of his hips until you were just gasping at the sheer thickness. Nanami’s long girth leaving you spotless, swiveling his fat head easily against your g-spot.

“F-fuck-” he’s still muttering to himself, jaw clenched tight with all the strain of not devouring you whole after so long-

“So do it.” 

Your words make him still in his unforgiving pace, cocking a head in confusion. The sight of him - all disheveled and blushing an innocent red, eyes drooped in pussydrunk pleasure, mouth parted sweetly - has you giggling. “Seriously- aww, Ken, you didn’t even realize you were talking out loud?” Your palms smooth their way over his blue button-up, too impatient to have stripped out of it. “Do it. Dontcha think the best ngh! de-stressor during a long work project would be this-”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence - and you didn’t have to. Because Nanami is doing exactly that. 

“You’re not good f’me-” he draws a greedy thumb over your clit in tight, methodical circles. Pressing sweet peck after peck on your sagging open lips, “You have- no idea- how I- hah- was holdin’ back all this time.”

Each squelching thrust has the pool of cum and your saturated slick expanding ever-wider. Drenching into the once-fresh sheets, your skin, forming a creamy ring around his heft base. It stands out so starkly against the neat patch of blond and his red, red shaft.

“Seein’ you walking around the office in those godforsaken short skirts.” he growls, sharp gaze honing in on the mess of fabric in tatters on the floor. “Havin’ those interns making eyes at you- Meanwhile I couldn’t even fuck my cute wife.” All those frustrations he’s channeling into his hips, fucking you deeper and deeper into the bed, you swear in the morning you’d be able to see the markings of his tight balls against your ass, his v-line against your thighs. “All because of some shitty project I couldn’t give less of a shit about.”

“S’almost- hah-” you’re hiccuping when his thumb strokes even harder, matching his lewd pace. “-s’almost over anyway. And I al-already filed the-”

“My love…” Nanami gently cuts in, just quelling your worried excuses with another jittering ram of his hips. Pressing expertly into where he already knew would make you squeal. “-this cockblocking project is the last thing I wan’ hear about right now-” He’s sucking gently on your lips in a sloppy kiss - his favorite type - “-I’d much prefer to finally hear you cum-”

And this was so unlike your dear husband. 

He was never this rough when throwing your legs over his broad shoulders, not giving you anything but a second to adjust before bending down, down, down to fold you into the meanest mating press possible. Never this hoarse with his words, wrenching out of his shot throat with each bludgeoning push into your cunt. Just ravaging you from the inside out. 

Soon enough, it gets too much.

And Nanami’s pants turn into heaves, his pressurized cadence turn into nothing more than languid, sloppy ruts back and forth back and forth back and-

“K-Ken-” Your fingers find their way to his tie again - pulling so hard that it makes him lightheaded. So tight it cuts a red indent into his golden skin. “M’so close-”

You’d heard about the type of orgasms so sudden that you don’t even realize you’re having them. Because no sooner are the words out of your mouth that you’re cumming. So hard, so aggressive, even that Nanami has to bite back his own groans. 

Head falling backwards at how almost-difficult it was to drive into your snug cunt now, velvety walls constricting with pleasure. Milking him so fucking good- “Yeah- yeah fuck, choke me. Choke me while you cum, darling.”

In a split-second, the pads of Nanami’s fingers on your clit shove themselves between your lips. The honeyed cum and slick pooled thickly in a candied coat that makes you throb. 

“That s’for not hngh! telling me sooner about the project almost being done. And this-” It’s followed by a gentle peck to your forehead, and an absolutely not gentle twitch of his weepy cock inside you. His fingers tighten inside your mouth, yours tighten around his tie, “-is for all the overtime m’gonna hafta make up for.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - 8 days

It’s been too long - way too long. A week- fuck, maybe more? 

Geto doesn’t know, can’t even think right now with the way each and every slow, smooth glissade of your puffed-up pussy down his long shaft have him losing his mind let alone his train of thought. Gritting his teeth, he tugs even tighter around the cool leather restrain pinning him down to the plush bed, “Th-this has already gone on for a week- hngh- don’t you think that’s enough teasing, gorgeous?”

Fuck him and his stubborn streak.

“Over a week of you giving me the cold shoulder, Sugu?” Oh your saccharine sweet hum is enough for the curve of his cock to twitch up. Bumping lewdly against your clit, “I think m’being more than generous.”

Your leader’s dark brows knit even deeper in frustration, the need bleeding into those heaving shudders of his. “Aww, c-come on—” And if you didn’t know any better you’d have said that Geto Suguru was whining - whining. The headboard rattles loudly when he pulls, “Y’know I didn’t mean it- was jus’ a lil’ lesson because y’d-didn’t finish your duties as my second-in-command. I already give you ‘nough pretty privilege, don’t I?”

“Oh yeah?” you’re huffing, leaning forward until he gets the perfect view of your perky tits. Geto can’t help the way his tongue lolls out to suckle gently on your nipples. Handsome cheeks hollowing out with each swirling movement. “And I’m gonna give you a muzzle next if you don’t stop running that mean mouth.”

Shit, Geto blames it on not having you for a while now - fuck this sex ban - because he can already feel his weepy cock gush out in a fresh coat of syrupy precum. Steamy and sticky between your thighs, it was almost fucking embarrassing.

“Yes, ma’am.” he gasps out, sounding as disoriented as you looked right now. There’s a candied string of spit between his glossed-over lips and your tits that snaps around his almost leering smile. “Anything for you.”

If you felt his admission was mocking, then you didn’t say anything. And Geto was so fucking thankful, because just then you’re positioning his achy cock right at your slobbering entrance. Coating down his angry, angry shaft in your sweet juices before sinking down - slowly. So, so torturously slow. 

“Fuck!” Geto’s biting his lip when your silky soft walls give an experimental squeeze, tugging the rest of him even deeper into your tight channel. Throwing his head back, lazily - this was heaven. “I’m so- C-can’t you hurry-”

“Nope.” you grin, popping the “p”. Your gyrating hips falter into stillness, until your filthy cunt’s just barely cockwarming him at this point. Hands ghosting up his flexing abs, the plans of his bulging pecs, up, up, up until they wrap so prettily around Geto’s milky throat. “Why dontcha do it yourself since you want it so bad, hm?”

Ah, he’s in love.

“Anything for you.”

Jaw tensing, his eyes are locked on the way your pussy lips part around him. Straddled and sat so prettily on top of him, he’s planting his feet onto the silken sheets without a second thought. Long fingers intertwining deftly with the chain on those cuffs, leveraging you just right and-

Snap!

Both of you gasp in surprised synchronization when those expensive handcuffs - custom-made, mind you - shred easily. Raising your eyes to look at Geto and- oh, fuck. You were fucked. 

“That wasn’t on the plan but…” his dark eyes glint with such a predatory spark, plump lips curling into an easy smirk. He soothes over the stinging red where he’d been held, greedy gaze locked on you. And only you. “...neither was havin’ my cute lil’ assistant tie me up, hm?” 

In all of two seconds, you’re just being slammed down onto the hard ridges of Geto’s defined hipbones. Bruises sure to blossom up on your skin when his two rough palms grab a ravenous handful of your ass. Reeling your pliant body up, up, up till the very tip of his velvety cock kissed teasingly at your hole, and down. 

“O-oh!” Your hands come down to his sculpted chest, skin heated against his soft puffs of breath. And it’s just about all you can manage to get out, mouth salivating at all of the thick inches of him filling you up, so dreadfully bullying with his thrusts.

“Shit- shit shit shit, fuckin’ missed this. Must’ve had a lotttt of fun hngh! playing around with your leader, huh?” Geto lingers in hot pecks at the corners of your eyes, tasting the salty sting of your tears. “Treatin’ me like I was second-in-command. Did it get you wet, gorgeous?”

He’s leaning back to get a better view of the way your pussy was being split open, glistening and winking up at him. “Yeahhh, it sure did- jus’ look at you. You’ve been hating this petty sex ban as much as I have.”

Just the thought is enough to have whatever blood is left in his body to rush even more feverishly into his painful cock. Bulbous tip blushing a rosy red, his ravaged cock gushes sensitively with hot precum after so long, growing even girthier inside you.

You’re whining at the feeling of your already-contracted walls being stretched even more like elastic around him. “I- I did-” 

He fucks out whatever poor cry is on the tip of your tongue with a harsh thrust, arching into a perfect curve of his body against yours. 

“Awww, I know, pretty girl. I know–” Geto soothes, gliding away your glossy pout with his thumb, before pressing such a tauntingly sweet sweet kiss. “N’ we’ve gotta make up for th-those hah! eight days, right?” At your barely-lucid nod, he only grins wider. Fuck yeah, he missed this. And he’s never letting you out of his sight. “And afterward- we can talk about a little ah- promotion, how about that?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 2 days

“Just the tip.” Choso’s hushing hotly against your ear later into the night, eyes double-checking at his locked door before rutting his hot, hefty erection against the globes of your ass. “Just the- hah- tip, baby please. Feels like m’gonna die if I don’t get just a feel of your cute cunt already.”

It’s only been two days visiting his family, and Choso feels like he’s just about ready to burst. All those soft moments babying his little brother, those stupid lil’ jokes from his uncle about adding another Itadori to the family - they were swirling up inside his hazy mind and flowing straight to his achy cock. Rock-hard and leaking saturated precum all over the back of your soft cotton sleep shorts. 

Choso wanted you - and he wanted you now. 

“Baby…” his drowsy kiss drags along your lips. A calloused hand comes up under your leg to slot his achy cock between them, rubbing and grinding in smooth, slow gyrations. Shuddering, “Don’t care if we’re loud I- hah- r-really just wanna fuck a baby into ya.”

“Shh shhh, go ahead, Cho.” you giggle, whirling over your shoulder to teasingly peck at the tip of his nose. “But jus’ the tip, m’kay?”

Your sweet boyfriend’s nodding before you’re even finishing your sentence, not having the patience to even take your pajamas off. Just hooking a long, pale finger along the side of the fabric, throwing his head back against the pillows to take an even close look at the gloss of slick sticking to your inner thighs. 

“O-oh, baby. My baby–” his deep voice cracks. Biting back guttural groans when the very flushed thick tip of his cock dips so perfectly around the corner of your sopping slit. Frantically, he claps a hand over his loud moans, “Just…just the tip. Right?”

Whether he was asking you or whether he was asking himself you have no idea. Because Choso wasn’t wasting even a millisecond more, he’s rubbing in velvety glides at your swollen folds. So dripping wet that it takes him a few whimpering grinds to bully his fat head at your hole without sliding right across. Slowly. 

“Shit- missed this. J-juuust-” he’s heavily panting, kissing down your spine with each inch after fucking inch massaging inside your gummy walls. Throbbing heavily because shit, it might not have been long - but it’s felt like forever. “-the- the-”

Choso’s blabbering words only slur out even more through the gaps in his fingers, honeyed tone becoming more simpering. And you could count the hitches in his breath, the shake in his thighs when he’s disappearing between your legs. After not having you for a whole two days, he was pussydrunken already.

“Something wrong, baby?” you purr, tugging on his long strands of hair, now damp with sweat. “You look tense.”

“Tense?” Choso gasps, voice pitched up higher than usual with disbelief. “Wh-what are you ah- shit, don’ squeeze me like that- what are you t-talking about, m’not tense.” 

But your smug smirk only tugs wider at the jittery way his free hand locks onto the small of your waist. Pushing and pulling in a sultry pace, massaging your snug channel with the upwards curving divot on the very tip of his cock. Feeling just the very peak of that prominent vein he has down his creamy middle. 

“Are you sure?” you hum, hearing him outwardly gulp. And you know that you should go a little easy on him - your poor boyfriend did just spend the entire weekend being cockblocked by his family, after all. You know you should be mindful of the soft creaking of the bed, the ever-growing groans wrenching from Choso. “I would much rather you just-” Your nails leave ravaged red trails down his milky thighs “-breed me the way you’ve been wanting to these past two days, Cho.”

Oh, Choso could cry, he could moan, he could cum. 

And - tears pricking at his dewy, dark eyes, cheeks burning with embarrassment - that’s exactly what he does. You’re letting out a mewl at the feeling of Choso’s sweltering hot tip just gliding across the spongy bottom of your cervix. Glossing over your insides with a thick coat of his cum, dredge after dredge of creamy white that fill you up so much. Seeping down through the corners of your sloppy hole and forming a milky ring around the tufts of black at his hilt. “Fuck- fuck m’blamin’ being cockblocked from this heavenly pussy f’this.”

“Fuck! Wasn’t even that long, Cho. I can ah- feel you all the way-” Your fingers slide up to about halfway at your stomach, pressing down on that familiar nudging divot, “-here.”

That’s all it takes for his weepy cock to just gush more spurts of seed again. Again and again and again- Immediately, his large hand covers your mouth, fully muffling those pretty moans. 

“F-fuck, pretty- m’y dad is j-just hah- the door over.” he’s almost bawling out, hips uncontrolled with the way he’s rutting up in deep, thorough pushed of his slender hips. “So loud.” But Choso makes no move to quieten either of you. Crashing his lips into yours to let your sweetened moans vibrate away into his mouth, heavy balls smacking against your skin in a heady thwack! thwack! thwack! “So messy.” 

You feel so sluggish being stuffed to the very brim like this, limbs aching with how close Choso was pinning you back against his muscled chest. There’s only so much that your cunt can take before it’s spreading out into a messy puddle below you two, adding to the gripping squelches. Shit, you two were definitely facing hell tomorrow - namely, a too-smug Sukuna. 

“Baby…” Choso drags out, in a way you already knew didn’t bode well. Two of his fingers swipe at the mess beading out, “Since m’being so loud…why don’t I busy my mouth with something else?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 5 hours (but he won’t admit it)

That pretty pout of yours was too irresistible, the way you’d kissed him goodbye too sultry - Sukuna knew your game. 

And here - teeth gritted, thighs bouncing in frustration under the table, anger flaring when his court meeting drags onto around the fifth consecutive hour - he also knew he was playing right into it.

Yeah, fuck that.

Which is why there isn’t even a shred of regret in his smirk when he finally reaches his breaking point - a click of his fingers and he’s no longer in the royal meeting room. Instead, nestling up to your side at his chambers, smothered amongst all the expensive silken sheets. 

Not even the tiniest speck of embarrassment in his next words to you, “On all fours, brat.”

“Kuna- you’re back- fuuuck-” your honeyed moans sound out over the way he had one large hand smushing you deeper and deeper into the cushiony pillows. “-you’re back e-early?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t have anything to hngh! do with it, woman.” he spits, and the mattress dips when he’s hiking up a powerful thigh. Using the leverage to pressurize each jarring, determined little half-thrust inside your gaping hole. “Teasing n’ toying with your king. You’re hah- r-real brave for a lil’ human y’know that?”

You’re whining, “A-all it took was f-five hours of a sex ban-”

Another one of his big, beefy arms swipe down your arched spine, dipping down to spread open your puffed-up folds even more. “Silence.”

So what if the king of curses couldn’t last five hours without your pretty pussy? Was that a crime? 

The vice-like grip on your head was forcing your bleary gaze down to where he was feeding your cunt with each of his massive inches. Two absolutely engorged cocks with twin reddish tips, glossing all over your poor entrance with matching gushes of hot precum. Just barely even halfway in - but you could already feel him bulging at your very stomach. “Heh…wouldya look at that. Didn’t even prep her as much as u-usual and she’s already this ready to take me. Are ya always such a slut?”

You can’t stop yourself from bowing even deeper into his hold, the upwards curve of your spine pushing you even closer to his stacked bases. 

“Answer me.” His deep baritone snaps you out of your little haze, and two hands prop you even closer. You could feel every heated gust of his words against the shell of your ear, “Speak, if you don’ wanna displease your king, little human.” 

And oh Sukuna can’t deny that stirring pride in his chest when your jumbled-out words spill out, body trembly, needy - but still so eager to please him. 

“I- I just-” Your breath hitches wetly in your chest when one of his four hulking arms dip downwards, toying with your swollen clit between two thick fingers. It takes a branding smack! to the fat of your ass to remember what you were trying to say again. “-just knew I was gonna miss you at the meeting today, Kuna.”

And if the way he jolted inside you wasn’t an answer - the raw divots of his cocks jostling inside you to crash into your g-spot - Sukuna gasps - gasps. Voice so simperingly silken when he asks, “You missed me?”

You’re nodding - but that isn’t enough for him, fuck it might never be. 

In retaliation, your pussy is being gifted with another few of his long thrusts. Two hands tightening roughly around your waist to keep his pretty girl from escaping.

“Like I said- u-use your hngh- words, doll.” Followed by such a mean bump of both rounded curves of his fat cockheads against your g-spot, making you cry out in your sweetened voice that he loved so much. “Clearly you’ve still got the voice, heh-”

The royal bed is creaking so loudly that Sukuna has half the mind to wonder whether the fools in the meeting room not too far away could hear. Ah, fuck them. Right now he couldn’t care less about anything other than you.

“I did miss you.” you’re mewling, big fat tears pricking at your eyes each time he’s drilling in. “Missed you so much, Kuna.”

There’s a sudden, sloppy squelch! And before you know it, he’s buried all the way in until the sensitive skin of your ass rubbed rawly against those rough patches of pink at his toned pelvis, Sukuna’s heavy balls kissing snugly against your thighs. 

“Ahh–” he’s heaving out, while you can do nothing but scramble towards the headboard, the sheets, anything. Peaking in the thumb rolling over your clit to take a good, long look at how your stuttering pussy was so obscenely stretched and molded around his cocks, all the way down to those ringed tattoos on his thick bases. Gapingly full. Doubly sucking him up. “Fuck the sex ban- beats that stupid fuckin’ meeting tha’s for sure.”

And you didn’t know whether it was possible to forget how big Sukuna truly was in just five hours. Because his every throb only seems to drive him even deeper against your cervix, thickening so maddeningly to stretch out your insides. 

“Yeah yeah- atta girl. Take it all- fuck, take it all f’me.” He croons through your high, squelching movements only speeding up. There’s an element of such raw, primal need in what he does, like he’s just dragging out every dredge of pleasure out of you. You’re just gulping when a hand makes its way into your black-tinged vision, wrapping snugly around your throat to pull you backwards against his every ram. “Now, let’s see if this pretty pussy can squirt before they come around tryna find me for the meeting.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 15 minutes

“Sweetheart-” Gojo whines, rosy lips downturning into the most perfect pout you’d ever seen. “Sweetheart please- I know I was-”

“Stupid? Impulsive?” you’re rolling your eyes, despite the vice-like hold he had on you. Sitting you down so prettily on his lap, manspread as far as his office chair would allow him. “An absolute idiot?”

Fuck, at that last insult, Gojo’s cock only hardens impossibly inside your gummy walls. Marking out each and every divot and vein down his furious shaft, he throws his head back with a groan at the taut feeling of your clingy walls being stretched all around him. 

“Seriously?” you’re gasping, to which he only curls his lips up into the most unabashed grin. 

Not even a moment later, he’s bouncing his thighs, jostling you precariously on top of his frame. It makes your hips just squeeze downwards in smooth, swiveling gyrations that massage his throbbing cockhead. “Aw come on- I take back what I said about No Nut November can we just-”

“Yeah? After what-” Your eyes dart over your shoulder towards the clock at the very end of the room, “-fifteen minutes? You dragged me all the way out of a meeting after only that? Come on, Toru, you’ve gotta make to at least twenty-”

“Please.” 

You’re pausing in surprise, and that’s the last thing that Gojo wanted right about now. So with a huffed-out groan, he’s back to placing two greedy palms that smooth over the curve of your hips, up and down up and down. Soothing you over for when he just rams you down recklessly on his achy cock. 

He bites up the column of your neck, all the way up to that sweet spot at your earlobe. “Already said the magic word, didn’t I?” Before using all of his inhuman core strength to bounce you all the way down in another thorough thrust. “What? Wan’ me to say pretty please, my girl?”

The strongest was just begging at your feet, because laced with his tease was a very real, nervous tremor. Voice lilting up higher than normal, drunken eyes darting between your own and the very obvious little grind of his pulsing length.

Buried so brandingly inside you, like he wanted to make you memorize him from the inside out. Body bowed into yours like it hurt to be apart more than just a few millimeters, he was stuck against your side. Only pushing deeper and deeper and-

“I’ll- I’ll make it to twenty minutes next time-” he giggles deliriously, already tinged with such smugness. “Maybe even thirty- please- please just’, fuck- need your cute cunt.”

And you were a strong sorcerer in your own right - but seated like this, Gojo definitely had the advantage. He was still so much taller, so much broader, muscles rippling through the thin fabric of his black t-shirt. Biceps bulging out with each stuttering slam into your hips, it’s like he wanted to be as sloppy as possible. 

To have your cunt drooling down every inch of his angry, red cock glistening a sweet sweet coat of juices with every single squelch. It drips down from where your skirt was bunched up, down onto the wooden floors. Shit, you definitely weren’t going back to the meeting like this. 

“So wet, huh?” He smiles, a snowy brow rising at the sight. And Gojo’s tall frame sags even deeper down his steadfast chair to get an even better long, swallowing deeply. “Damn- you’re makin’ me so thirsty, sweetheart.”

You smack his chest, “S-so filthy, Toru.” But you can’t hide the slight moan in your scolding, the way your clit grows even more heated - and he notices, of course. 

“I got you- I got you, girl.” He rolls an eager thumb right over where you wanted him the most, bringing a kiss over towards the underside of your jaw, your cheeks, your mouth. “N’ of course m’ filthy- what’d you expect?” Gojo’s free hand occupies itself with guiding your cunt down at a maddening pace. Squelching so loud that times like this he was thankful for six eyes, for all the amplified sounds of your huffs and cunt clamping down around his girthy cock. His next words are whispered against your tongue, “M’the fucker that couldn’t last fifteen minutes without your pretty pussy, of course.”

He’s not even waiting to ask at this point - he’s already lost, he’s already broken the sex ban but fuck, did defeat feel so sweet. 

There’s a stuttering squelch, your slick glossing down his entire wrist when Gojo’s fingers sped up on your poor clit. Circling and tugging teasingly, his fingers were so deftly making you writhe. 

It simply makes your toes curl, white-hot pleasure sparking behind your eyes with each unwavering clash into your g–spot. And if you were in any better state of mind, you’d be almost embarrassed at how it only takes a few clamoring rummages at your insides, a few steadfast thrusts right into the bullseye of your sweet spots, before you’re cumming and cumming so hard it makes you gasp.

“Fuck-” Your nails dig ferociously into Gojo’s strong wrist, stationed on one side of your waist, fucking downwards to meet his sloppy staccato. “Fuck fuck fuck- m’cumming- m’cumming, Toru–”

“Heh, easy girl.” he jests, dragging his plump lips down the sensitive side of your neck. “Made fun of me f’being so needy but look at you.” Running his pretty mouth a mile a minute, you could tell he’s nearing the end of his sanity, as well. Each sensitive twitch of his long shaft massaging deeper and deeper into your g-spot. “Cum f’me then- fuck- cumming- cum.”

Your velvety walls are just milking each of his gummy thrusts, gripping onto you through each and every wave of pleasure. Bolts of electricity zap through your veins, and Gojo’s flinging his eyes shut, mouth parting to groan out your name with each spurt of his thick, potent cum. Over and over-

“Fuck- fuck, yeah tha’s right.” he slurs, a hand just slamming down on his nearby desk. Like he wanted to break. To ruin. Whispering against your ear, “Now how about we go a few more times to see if I can make twenty minutes without this pretty pussy next time?”

“Thirty.”

“Deal.”

A/N. Hope y’all have a lovely lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[galaxy-stardust]

Simon Ghost Riley x you

The zipper

You’d only mentioned it once.

Offhandedly. A passing sigh as you tried to get the damn zipper on your hoodie unstuck. You fought with it for nearly five minutes before giving up and tugging it over your head instead.

He was sitting on the couch at the time, mask off, hoodie half unzipped, watching you with that blank, calculating stare. You thought nothing of it. Just a normal, quiet night.

But something lodged in his brain. Something stuck.

The next evening, you found him in the kitchen, his jaw tight, breathing controlled - but barely.

A single zipper lying in front of him, cut from an old jacket. Tools scattered. His massive hands trying to feed the tiny teeth together over and over.

You didn’t say a word. Just leaned on the doorway, watching his rage simmer like a bomb with no wire to cut.

Snap.

He threw the zipper across the counter, and it skittered to the floor. He didn’t look at you.

“You alright, love?” you asked carefully, lips twitching.

Silence.

You took a step closer. “You, uh… sewing something?”

Still nothing. Until:

“I should be able to do this,” he growled, each word like gravel under boot.

Your heart melted. Because it wasn’t about the zipper. Not really.

It was the idea that you struggled - and he couldn’t fix it. Couldn’t master this stupid little thing that got in your way.

And that was unacceptable to him.

“I’ll just buy one that works - ”

“No.”

You blinked. His head turned slowly, eyes meeting yours with heat - not anger at you. But with himself. And that stubborn, brutal devotion.

“I’m gonna fix it.”

A pause.

“For you.”

You tried not to smile. “It’s just a hoodie, Si.”

But his hands had already picked up the zipper again.

Three hours.

Four zippers.

Two cups of tea.

A lot of swearing in deep, growled tones under his breath.

When it finally clicked - when the fabric fed through smooth and perfect - you swore the man almost smiled.

He zipped it up. Unzipped. Zipped it again, perfectly. Then held it out with a deadpan look.

“Put it on.”

You obeyed.

He stepped behind you, tugging it up around your shoulders, and - so gently you almost cried - zipped it up for you with steady, careful fingers.

No snags. No struggle.

His arms stayed around your waist afterward. Chin against your shoulder. Voice soft.

“Told you I’d fix it.”

You leaned back into him. “You’re ridiculous.”

His answer? A low chuckle, rough and warm.

“Yeah,” he whispered, “but you love me like this.”

And you did. Every furious, determined, unrelenting part of him - especially the parts that fought so hard to make the small things easy for you.