#and if you can't get over to make room for them? when they don't bother getting over themselves to make room for both of you??

[zzeynes-blog]

Cruel World- LN4

Cruel World Part 1

Masterlist

PAIRING: Lando Norris x Female! Reader

DESCRIPTION: He thought she'd be there no matter what. She got tired of his games. When she finally walked away, he realizes his own cruelty and the depths of the love he once overlooked.

WARNINGS: 18+, mature themes, strong language, angst, miscarriage

Usually, the boyfriend would plan the dates, pick his girlfriend up, and put more effort into the relationship. Unfortunately for her, her boyfriend had much important matters to deal with.

Such as his F1 career.

After dating for 3 years, she grew accustomed to the way he slowly resigned from the relationship. After all, she was dating an F1 driver, who was she to expect him to dedicate all his attention to her?

So, for 3 years she continued to make do with the bits of him left to her. She would attend all his races no matter what, hoping the bits of time they spent together in his garage would make up for the dates he'd missed.

She missed the attentive and charming boy she once had but "beggars can't be choosers" she often reminded herself whenever she felt like his efforts weren't sufficient.

She was sitting at a cafe in Silverstone with Kelly, sipping her latte as she pretended to be interested in whatever fashion trend the brunette in front of her was talking about.

"Y/N, are you okay? I can tell your mind is wandering off somewhere else." The woman asked with concern written all over her face.

"Yeah, of course. Sorry, I haven't been feeling very well. I've been very tired and nauseous lately. No clue why." She sighed as she forced a small smile.

Kelly's eyes widened. "That sounds like something I went through twice..." She breathed.

"What! No way, don't worry we're good with protection and stuff." The girl responded with a laugh.

"You never know. You should get tested." The wiser woman added as she leaned back into her seat and took a sip of her coffee.

She was sitting in her hotel room as she sipped her tea, hoping the abdominal pain would go away. Tomorrow was race day and she wanted to make sure everything went smoothly at her boyfriend's home race.

The man on the other side of the bed was talking about the race, not paying attention to the pained expression on his girlfriend's face.

After some time, he drifted off to sleep as she kept tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.

The next morning, the typical race day endeavors followed. She took painkillers and ignored the way the sharp pain in her abdomen worsened by the minute. She chalked it up to her period coming after missing it from stress for the past few months, it had always been irregular.

So, she wore her best outfit, did her hair and makeup perfectly. She always made sure to look presentable next to her boyfriend. The online comments about her appearance and the way her boyfriend would be extra friendly with women always bothering her despite her efforts to ignore them.

She would never tell her boyfriend, not after the countless times he dismissed her, saying she "needed to accept him and the lifestyle his career brought".

So she did.

She accepted that no amount of effort, no perfect outfit or flawless hair, could make him see her. She accepted that his charm was reserved for everyone else, that the attention he gave to others was the only attention he’d ever truly know how to give. 

She never complained.

He continued to believe everything was perfect. He knew-he always knew- that she bent herself around his life, ignored her own needs, swallowed her frustration. But it didn’t matter. He shrugged it off, smirking like it was her problem, not his. She’ll accept it, he thought, she always does.

After Lando won his home race and completed all his media duties, the night was reserved to party and celebrate, of course.

Lando was chatting with a female fan who had approached him at the club they’d went to as Y/N sat with Rebecca, Carlos too busy talking to Charles about some race strategy. She pulled out the painkillers from her bag and grabbed as many pills as she could take without exceeding the daily dosage. 

Rebecca looked at the girl with a puzzled expression. “You haven’t been well today. What’s up with you? Are you okay?” She asked fondly. 

“I have really bad abdominal pain. It’s been going on since last night. Must be my period coming soon. I’ll be fine.” The girl explained with a forced smile. 

But Rebecca knew better than to ignore her friend’s discomfort. 

“Did you tell Lando?” The blue eyed woman asked, already knowing the answer. 

“No, I didn’t want to ruin this day for him.” Y/N replied, her hand on her stomach. 

“Well you shouldn’t have to tell him. He should notice it when your hands been on your stomach all day with that pained look on your face. Get up we’re going to the hospital.” The brunette declared as she got up from her seat at the bar. 

Y/N tried to protest but she knew how persistent the Scottish woman was.

She glanced over at her boyfriend. He was leaning down into a blonde girl's ear, sharing a conversation as they laughed together.

Rebecca followed her friend's gaze and sighed at the sight in front of them. "I know you love him but he's such a shit boyfriend. Come on, let's grab Carlos, he'll drive us." She sighed as she gently tugged at her friend's arm, trying to stray her attention away from the man flirting with another woman in front of them.

The girl ignored the way her chest tightened and got up from her seat, no longer able to find the words to disagree with her friend.

When they found Carlos and Charles, the two men were both worried about the woman in front of them. Carlos didn't need to hear a word from his girlfriend as he gave a curt goodbye to Charles who offered to come with them, saying it wasn't necessary.

By the time they reached the hospital, the pain had sharpened into relentless waves. Y/N clutched her lower abdomen, breathing shallowly as Rebecca guided her through the doors, Carlos close behind with a concerned expression.

At triage, the nurse asked routine questions, but Y/N could barely focus, each contraction of pain making her flinch. “It feels… worse than a period,” she muttered, her voice tight. Her stomach twisted in knots, and a cold sweat broke out across her forehead.

Rebecca pulled out her phone. “Do you want me to call Lando?” she asked quietly. Y/N shook her head, but Rebecca’s expression left no room for argument. She dialed anyway. The phone rang… once. Twice. Then straight to voicemail.

Y/N’s chest tightened, a bitter, hollow knot forming where her heart was. He knew. He knew she was in pain. He knew she might need him. And yet, he didn’t pick up.

The doctor arrived, calm but quick. After an exam, he said, “We need to do an ultrasound and some blood work to see what’s going on.” Y/N tried to nod, but the cramping made her head spin.

The ultrasound screen flickered, and Y/N watched, confused and terrified, as the doctor’s expression stayed neutral but serious. “It looks like an early miscarriage,” he said gently. “You may not have even realized you were pregnant.���

Y/N froze. Her stomach sank, the pain now mingling with a heavy, hollow shock. She hadn’t known. She hadn’t expected this. Rebecca held her hand firmly, murmuring reassurances, while Carlos stayed by her side, quietly steady.

Through the haze of pain and disbelief, a slow, bitter clarity began to settle in. She had spent so much of herself trying to fit into a life that didn’t care about her. And now, in this moment of vulnerability, she realized she didn’t need anyone who ignored her needs. 

Because this, this was much more serious than all the important dates he'd forgotten or all the plans he had canceled.

She sat in her hospital bed as she waited for Rebecca and Carlos to return from fetching her suitcase at the hotel room she shared with Lando.

She told the couple she didn't want to go back and they went to grab her stuff without asking her any questions. She told herself she would grab the rest of her stuff from the apartment in Surrey when she felt better.

When Lando arrived back to the hotel with Oscar's aid, he paid no attention to the the missing belongings of his girlfriend- or the fact that the girlfriend in question wasn't even in the room. He was too gone to notice anything.

He didn't even need to be drunk to overlook his girlfriend.

He just always assumed she'd be there.

So, when he woke up the next morning with a raging hang over, he was shocked to find her side of the bed empty. He quickly glanced around the room and noticed her belongings were missing. In a hurry, he grabbed his phone from the nightstand, finding missed calls from Rebecca and Carlos.

Nothing from her.

He called her but it went straight to voicemail. He called Carlos, impatiently waiting for the Spaniard to pick up.

He hurriedly spoke when he heard an accented "hello" from the other end of the phone. "Carlos, where's Y/N? You and Rebecca both called me last night but I was too drunk." Lando explained, just slight panic in his voice.

The man on the other end of the phone loudly sighed before speaking. "Look man, you really fucked up this time." Carlos wearily said.

"What? What do you mean mate?" Lando asked bewilderedly.

He heard Rebecca's voice in the background but he was unable to make out what she was saying.

The Spaniard sighed once more before explaning. "This goes beyond me. Sorry. " He simply stated before hanging up.

Lando sat there in utter confusion, trying to process what had just happened. Suddenly, he remembered to check her location. He remembered that she had shared hers "just in case" when they first began dating.

Lando hadn't ever bothered to check it- or share his own.

When he clicked on the app, he realized it said "no location found".

"Fuck!" He frustratedly yelled as he slammed his phone on the soft mattress.

Unexpectedly, he felt his phone vibrate. He quickly picked it up, hoping it was a message from her. And he was right. She had finally texted him.

"I am fine. I need space." The text read.

The man that had been worried just moments ago scoffed in annoyance as he slammed his phone on the mattress once again, not even bothering to question her whereabouts or even respond to the message at all.

He ignored the small panic he felt. After all, she had never done something like this.

Not when he forgot their anniversary.

Not when he was hours late to the family dinners.

Not when he couldn't even bother to show up to the birthday party their friends had planned for the girl on time.

She will come back, surely. He thought as he got up from the bed.

A week had passed since the day Y/N told him she needed space. She was devastated but not surprised at the fact the man hadn't even bothered to send her a single message.

She began to wonder if she was really that worthless in his eyes.

Her mind drifted off to the words of the doctor, "It seems like you've been pushing yourself too hard, physically and mentally. Your iron levels are very low as well as your blood sugar. You need to be extra careful to recover well."

She took a deep breath as she put her hand over her stomach, her grip tightening around the lose fabric of her shirt.

She promised to change.

She promised she wouldn't allow him to walk all over her ever again.

It had been three weeks since the British man had heard from his girlfriend. Each day, he convinced himself she would come any moment now. He'd even texted her and called her multiple times. She hadn't even bothered to respond.

Oh how the tables had turned.

He put his phone down with a sigh as he glanced around the room. The gala was bussing with chatter and the soft clinking of glasses. Suddenly, he saw Rebecca and Carlos enter.

This is my opportunity to get information about her. He thought excitedly.

His excitement was cut short as his breath hitched at the sight in front of him.

Y/N walked into the room, alone.

The red dress hugged her in all the right places, bold and elegant. Every step was controlled, every movement deliberate. Her hair fell perfectly around her shoulders, lips painted just enough to catch the light without asking for attention. Her eyes scanned the room with calm confidence, and it was impossible not to notice.

The whispers followed immediately.

"She came separate from Lando?" someone murmured.

"I've never seen her so confident." another added.

She held her head high as she followed Carlos and Rebecca's path, stopping to chat with friends on the way.

Lando couldn't believe it.

How could she ghost him and come here acting as if he never existed to began with?

He wanted to approach her and ask her all the questions that had been eating at him for the past few weeks.

But he didn't.

The man couldn't risk his image. How could he approach her when he had never had to before?

So, the stolen glances would have to do.

Because he couldn't jeopardize his ego.

Like always.

Lando would never look at gossip pages. He deemed himself above that.

Unfortunately for him, social media caught on fast. Short videos, photos, and candid clips were uploaded and shared.

“Y/N in red alone. Finally letting go?” one caption read. “She looks untouchable. Lando, are you seeing this?” another tagged him. “Glow-up of the year. Independent. #RedDressQueen” began trending within the hour. Comments poured in. Some celebrated her confidence, others bashed her for no apparent reason.

Did she always receive so much hate? He wondered as he began searching the gossip pages for her.

He came across a photo of Y/N behind him, looking a bit uncertain as she walked behind him. He clicked on the comments.

“She’s literally trailing behind him like a lost puppy… he doesn’t even want her lol.”

“Poor girl, can’t believe she thinks he’s into her still.”

“Why is she even there? He’s clearly over it.”

“She needs to get herself together, honestly. This is embarrassing, even for her."

“Someone tell her he doesn’t want her lol, this is sad.”

A sinking feeling settled into his stomach. Did she really think he didn't want her? Surely, there has to be good things about our relationship on these pages. He thought as he scrolled down further.

He came across a photo from the surprise birthday party their friends had planned for her. In the picture she was wiping a tear away as her friends were trying to comfort her.

"He’s late again? She’s crying and he can’t be bothered. Pathetic.”

“Someone needs to tell her he doesn’t care about her feelings at all.”

“LOL typical. He’s probably somewhere flirting while she’s sitting there crying.”

“She’s so dumb for staying with him after all this.”

“Can’t believe she thought he’d actually show up. Embarrassing.”

He froze, thumb hovering over the screen. Each comment was a sting, a mirror reflecting what he had ignored for weeks, months, even years.

He forced himself to scroll further. This time he came across a photo from the Silverstone Grand Prix, Y/N was holding her stomach, her expression clearly pained as Lando smiled at something someone around them was saying.

“He’s laughing while she looks like she’s in pain… wow, cold."

"She's clearly faking it... talk about an attention seeking whore."

"Her expression describes how Lando feels when he has to be with her, lol."

"Literally when does she look happy around him?"

His breath hitched as he read the last comment. Was she unhappy in their relationship? There was no way. She would never complain about anything.

He forced himself to scroll further, each swipe feeling heavier than the last. More photos, more clips, all framed the same story: her in discomfort, overlooked, ignored. Lando’s chest tightened.

Comments scrolled endlessly:

“She’s holding in her pain while he laughs… unreal.”

“She’s way too patient for someone who treats her like this.”

“He doesn’t even notice she’s suffering. She’s a ghost to him.”

“How is she still with him? She deserves better.”

His stomach knotted as he read each one. They were strangers, yes, but their words rang painfully true. He had been blind. She had been hurting, and he hadn’t even seen it.

For the first time, he realized the truth he had spent weeks ignoring: she wasn’t just upset about small things-she had been struggling, and he had been absent. His phone buzzed with notifications, all tagged with her name, showing more posts of her walking alone, laughing with friends, glowing in ways he had never noticed before.

The weight of it hit him: she had moved on emotionally. She didn’t need him, and for weeks, she had been living her life without waiting for him to realize what he had lost. Lando scrolled past another photo, her in that red dress, standing tall, untouchable. Comments celebrated her independence, every tag reminded him how far she had come without him.

And he knew, with a sinking certainty, that nothing he could do now would undo it because years of damage couldn't be undone so easily.

a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this part. feel free to let me know any suggestions or ideas. i publish the moment i finish writing so i am open to ideas about upcoming parts!

[darksmut]

All your boyfriend's friends are over to watch the game, and you're planning on disappearing into your room for the rest of the day and hiding. Your bf is being sweet, getting you a glass of water and making sure you've got snacks and that you're comfy in bed.

You finish your water quickly since he gave you so many salty snacks. You need to get more, but your head feels fuzzy. Is the room spinning? Maybe you should just close your eyes.

As you're settling down against the pillows, you hear the bedroom door quietly open.

"Is she asleep?" someone whispers.

"Not completely." Your boyfriend's voice. "But she'll be too out of it to fight back."

You hear more whispering and manage to crack open your eyes. Every single man you greeted and welcomed into your home earlier today is standing over you.

They pull the covers off you, and you whine at the cold. None of them seem to care. When one of them gropes your tits, you try to push his hands away, but they all laugh at you and pin your arms down.

Your boyfriend is right. You can't fight them off.

You're too tired.

Too weak.

Too small.

Your boyfriend kisses you softly and strokes your hair. When you shake your head and give him a pleading look, he smiles and kisses you again.

"Don't worry. You won't remember any of this."

He helps his friends pull your shorts off. Your panties, too. When he pulls you up to get your shirt off, your head lolls to the side.

It takes you a second to register the pain of someone pinching your nipples. Tears flood your eyes as someone sucks on them next, and then someone slaps your breasts until you're squirming and crying out from the pain.

You look to your boyfriend for help, for him to protect you. But he's the one holding you up and egging his friends on. He's the one who forces a ring gag into your mouth and shoves you forward onto one of his friend's cocks until you're choking on it.

They don't use you one at a time. No, they stuff you with as many of their cocks as they can, not bothering to prep you. It hurts, and you cry, but that only makes them go harder.

You swallow load after load of cum that's pumped down your throat. It doesn't matter how hard you gag, they don't give you a break.

One cock fucking your throat, then another.

Two in your pussy at the same time, both driving into you and stretching you to a painful point.

One in your pussy and another in your ass while someone uses your throat like a fleshlight.

At some point, they drag you into the living room so you can keep getting them off while they watch the game.

You don't fully pass out until they're done. You hear them all leave, and when the front door shuts, you sag in relief.

That is, until your boyfriend grabs you by the hair and forces you onto your hands and knees. As he drives his hard cock into your abused pussy, you realize he'd only been watching until this point.

Now he uses you just like the rest did. His thrusts are relentless, and you sob into the carpet, your jaw aching from being held open for so long.

Your boyfriend pushes into your throat, hand on your neck to feel the bulge, and keeps himself there. Your air supply is cut off, but you're too exhausted to fight.

He pulls out just as your vision starts to fade. He fucks your pussy again, and then your ass, before finally coming on your face.

The last thing you see is his expression and the dark, power-hungry glint in his eyes. As your body finally succumbs to exhaustion, you realize this is only the first time he plans on doing something like this to you.

And when you wake up in the morning, covered in cum and bruises and still on the floor, you remember every single thing.

[citrinesparkles]

now we just sway part five.

jason todd x gender neutral reader. 2,610 words. notes: jason lives au continues. warnings:  mentions of alcohol but none is consumed on "screen"! song insp | part one | previous 

"so… success?" you ask halfway down a hall with wood paneling that you suspect is older than your grandparents, following him away from the noise of a dying party and towards the kitchen.

"i think so," jason grins tiredly, shrugging off his suit jacket and dropping it on the back of a (very nice looking) wooden chair. one of six surrounding the long, narrow table in the center of the room, which is as spacious as anything else in this place. "we met our fundraising goal and then some."

"good." that seems lackluster, underwhelming, because this event was a big deal, but you can't really think of anything to add. especially not with someone rolling up his sleeves as he walks straight to the counter, where a few dishes are sitting out- presumably waiting for the manor's residents. "that's great."

the dishes look nice. you don't notice much about them, though, because his arms are nicer.

"yeah," he sighs, stretching his neck side to side before picking the bottle of something- champagne, you assume- out of a bucket of ice. "bruce seems really pleased. we talked for a minute after his big speech, and he didn't even give me the is this over yet face."

"that is good."

"considering he's been doing all of this on about four hours of sleep, i'm not sure if it's a miracle or very concerning," he says, and you can hear the laugh in his voice as he picks up two glasses with more flourish than is required. then, he reaches for a third, pausing to glance over at you. "you want some?"

you don't even bother trying for good posture, dropping into a chair and slumping your elbows against the table with a tired smile. "i gotta drive, remember?" you point out warmly.

"oh- no, it's cider," he responds, gesturing at the bottle- with two glass stems in one hand, which you try not to stress about. he knows what he's doing. probably. usually. "no alcohol, just carbonation. it's this tradition bruce has. his parents used to do it with him after big events, then bruce did it with dick, and now he does it with me, when he can actually get away from the last few guests." he pauses briefly, nudging his head towards the bottle again.

sure. why not casually try to include you in a generations-deep tradition like it's no big deal. that won't give your heart stupid ideas at all.

this guy is going to give you a heart attack one day.

"i'd hate to steal his routine."

"i think i can manage a second round when he finally shows up," he retorts dryly, plucking the third glass up and placing them in a neat row.

you watch as he fills two with smooth, easy pours, his back to you.

you watch him more than the liquid, though. even here, doing something as simple as pouring drinks, he's graceful. careful.

beautiful.

broad shoulders, solid build, all emphasized by that tucked-in dress shirt…

"bruce can pour his own," he says lightly, picking up two full glasses, leaving the third empty on the counter as he turns to set one in front of you. "he's a big boy."

you huff a laugh, and he slips into the chair just diagonal from yours, and it's quiet.

comfortable. nice.

you hold your glass out. "to not stepping on your toes."

it's the right thing to say.

because he looks at your glass, meets your gaze, and lasts about a half a second before he's hanging his head and laughing.

"you're the worst," he mutters, grinning like he means the opposite as he clinks his glass to yours.

--

time moves much faster here than in that big ass ballroom.

conversation flows like water, and the amount of laughter filling the kitchen probably has something to do with how late it is, but it makes your heart all warm and full anyway. you drain your glasses and a full tray of crackers by the time anyone else turns up.

alfred is anyone else, as it turns out.

you're trying- and failing- to keep your laugh down when you hear him walk in, but jason doesn't bother.

he just drags a hand down his face and leans back in his chair, that big warm grin of his turning right to alfred.

"is he still playing brucie?" he asks, and it occurs to you- again- how unfortunate everyone at the gala had been to miss this jason. the real deal.

and, conversely, how incredibly lucky you are to get it.

"yes, master bruce is entertaining the remaining guests."

"think i ought to go rescue him?" jason asks, and you're pretty sure he isn't joking.

alfred's raised brow of disapproval seems to confirm that for you.

"i believe you have your own guest to attend to, sir."

"i'd be okay," you offer quickly, glancing between them. "if you need to-"

"nah," jason says lightly, taking another sip of his cider and glancing at alfred, who seems satisfied enough to move towards the fridge. "like i said, bruce is a big boy. he can handle it."

you've only met alfred once or twice, but you know enough to know that a full conversation just occurred and that you're best served staying out of it.

so you do, nodding and sipping at your drink.

until alfred addresses you, that is.

"might i interest you in leftovers?"

"oh, that's sweet of you," you respond, back straightening involuntarily. just a little. "everything was delicious, but don't worry about it."

"no worry at all, i assure you," he says evenly. warmly. you see why jason speaks so warmly about him, honestly. "i couldn't help but overhear your comment earlier this evening regarding your roommate's lack of proper rest. i imagine that a ready-made meal would be a welcome surprise."

you blink. is everyone in this house this observant?

you glance back at jason, who is the picture of innocence and no help at all.

--

predictably, you end up with a large paper bag of leftovers.

you're not sure how it happened, but you're pretty sure there isn't a version of that conversation where you left without some, so.

you thank alfred again as he takes his leave with a bottle of wine, presumably for bruce's guests, and he all but dismisses it.

you think that's a good sign. a sign of approval.

not that you need approval. it's just… nice, when your friend's family seems to like you.

"hey," jason says after a beat, knocking you out of your thoughts again. "i have something to add to that bag."

you cock a brow, watching him slide out of his chair to pluck a small package off the counter and pass it to you.

it's wrapped in brown paper, and it's a little heavier than you expect, and your eyes shift from it up to his own gaze.

"for me?" 

"mhm," he nods, leaning on the back of his chair with his arms crossed. "open it."

okay. weird, but okay. you gently tear the paper, setting it aside and ignoring the weight of his gaze on you as you're left with a box in your hands. 

you lift the lid and gently nudge the tissue paper aside.

you're greeted by the familiar faces of two tiny ceramic dancers.

"jason," you breathe, gently tracing the side of the figure and trying to figure out how to respond without sounding like you adore him. "this is so sweet."

"i just thought you might like a memento." his soft tone- gentle, warm, low, that range that makes heat hit your cheeks against your will- is sweet. because he is, at his core, an absolute sweetheart. to your detriment. "to remind you that things aren't always as complicated as they seem."

you probably shouldn't, because meeting his eyes again is only going to make the feeling in your chest get louder, but you can't help it. you look up, just trying to strike a balance between grateful and smitten moron. he doesn't need to know that second part. "things get less complicated with the right teacher."

which is a mistake to say out loud, because his face flushes and he lets out the little sheepish huff of laughter that makes you want to throw caution to the wind.

"you can only teach what somebody's willing to learn," he counters warmly, that stupid little smile on his face as you try in vain to ignore the drum in your chest.

--

somehow, you survive.

long enough for him to walk you out, anyway. down the hall, through the ballroom, past the people sweeping and collecting glasses, and out through the mudroom.

he even carries your bag of goodies all the way to the car, despite your insisting that you had it.

"do you still want to go to grover's?"

he asks as you take the bag, and it startles a little laugh out of you that fogs in the cold. you set the large bag in the passenger seat. "i don't need a consolation prize, jason," you reassure him, stretching the seatbelt across the front of the bag. "i had a nice time tonight."

"no, i mean-" he huffs, leaning back against the hood of the car, and you only have a second before he speaks again but you swear he almost sound nervous. "would you let me take you to grover's. on a date?"

you freeze. and blink. and blink again.

and then you're standing up and peaking around the car door. "me?"

"no, the figurine." he retorts sarcastically, and his cheeks are absolutely flushed, and it hits you like a train that it's not from the cold. "yes, you!"

"oh, shut up, i had to check-"

"who else would i have been talking to?"

"i don't know! i panicked!"

"good panic or bad panic?"

"i- good," you respond incredulously, because how could jason asking you out be anything else? "but good panic seems like a contradiction-"

he groans, whining your name and pushing off the hood and dragging both hands down his face.

then, he drops them, looking you square in the eye. "grover's. yes or no?"

right.

okay. holy shit.

date. maybe you weren't hallucinating all the little glances after all.

"yes."

jason slumps, like you'd let him off of a literal hook, and rubs a knuckle against his nose. which does nothing to hide the broad grin spreading across his face as he nods. which is… adorable, to put it lightly. "cool."

"cool."

you are both so stupid.

cool?

"so- um, tomorrow, maybe?"

"yeah, that would be nice. like, lunch time?"

"yeah." he pauses, evidently giving up on hiding that stupid blinding smile because his hands drop to his pants pockets. "but this doesn't count as the lunch i owe you. that's different."

"you are ridiculous," you mutter, somehow disbelieving despite how very him that is. stubborn ass man. "i told you you don't owe me shit-"

"and i told you that yes i do."

"how come you get to decide?" you giggle, which- you know it's not helping make your very serious case here, but you can't actually be bothered to care.

"because if you got to decide, you'd never let me do anything nice for you."

…touché.

so you do the only reasonable thing and flip him off.

--

he lingers, despite the freezing wind that cuts through your coat- with his dress shirt being his only protection, you have to actively fight the urge to shoo him inside to the warmth of the manor before he freezes to death.

you don't really want this moment to end. and, judging by the way he's just hanging here, you suspect he doesn't either.

instead, he walks with you around the front of the car to the driver's side door.

you pause before opening it, turning to look him in the eye.

"i really did enjoy tonight, jay." you want to say more than that, but that feels like it's as sincere as you can get without imploding right now, so it'll have to do. "thank you for having me."

"thank you for making it bearable," he laughs, running a hand through his hair and shifting on his feet. "that was the best time i've had at once of these things since i was still the new kid."

your cheeks go warm again, an ache beginning to form from all of the grinning you've done tonight. "i'm glad."

he nods, looking a little like a happy kid as he drops his gaze to his shoes. then he's looking to the hood of your car, tapping his knuckles against it. "i should let you get out of here, huh?" 

you don't really want him to, but he has a point. "probably." you only really agree because he's probably absolutely dead on his feet at this point- which is enough motivation to move your hand to the car door. "if you want me out of bed in time for ice cream, i need to get like, a million hours of sleep."

--

he almost kisses you right then.

you look amazing, all dressed up and standing there in the warm lighting from the little solar lights lining the driveway, smiling at him like he's doing anything special.

it would make sense, he thinks. to taste the last of that cider on your lips and send you off with a soft press of his smile to yours, to give you some rom-com moment after you put up with hours of bullshit with him.

(like a year and a half of bullshit, actually. being around him just comes with bullshit. and somehow, you're still standing here, looking painfully kissable.)

but he doesn't kiss you.

he'll tell himself it's because he doesn't want to rush things. you're important. this is important. this is something he really, honestly wants. something he wants to do right.

he wants to make sure you feel comfortable and like yourself, not all fancied up.

he wants to make you feel every single butterfly you have ever given him.

but he's pretty sure it's actually because he's a coward that still hasn't stopped thinking about the feeling of kissing your hand earlier.

so he pats the hood of your car again. like a moron.

"drive safe," he says lamely, shoving his hands in the pockets of his dress pants again and taking a step backwards with a smile that is hopefully less dorky and flushed than he feels.

--

actually getting into his bed takes him another forty-five minutes, because he's practically vibrating.

part of him wants to just put on his actual suit and run a patrol, because the idea of sitting still seems evil, but he's still a little stiff on the ankle he rolled the other night.

which he probably shouldn't have danced on.

…eh. worth it.

instead of patrol, he makes the kitchen look like the two of you were never there, and changes into pajamas, and ends up pacing in his room.

literally pacing. because apparently, giggling at you all night wasn't lame enough.

he's robin, and he's pacing around over a date.

well, okay, a date with someone he's pretty sure he's at least a little in love with.

that makes it less lame, he thinks.

the only reason he actually stops pacing is the home safe, thanks again! text you send that has him fumbling for his phone like an idiot.

followed by a see you tomorrow, with a smiley face, and he has to walk in a stupid little grinning circle of shame before he can text you back.

see you then.

[blossombabbles]

Hi fren! Um alphabet asks if youre still open to them!

...I don't know what to pick so I'm gonna just spell his name:

T, A, I, G, ......and we already did A so how about H for his last initial

(So, alphabet order, A, G, H, I, and T for Taiga Hoshibami please)

I will admit I do not actually remember what any of those letters are I just like Taiga

I LOVE TAIGA AAAAAAAGSJDJEEVEJ ENEBE EH YES GIVE ME MOOOOOOOORE 🥺 🙏

𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓭𝓷𝓲 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓭𝓷𝓲 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓭𝓷𝓲 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓭𝓷𝓲 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓭𝓷𝓲

˚₊‧꒰ა··········································•✦•··········································໒꒱ ‧₊˚

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

This feral man does own toys but not in the cute purple vibrators kinda way but as we've seen in his room he has a chair he can strap people to. You think that's just for torture? ... Probably. BUT! He'll use it for many other things now that you're around, kitten~ probably starts buying them 1. To bother darling Lulu of seeing vibrators in the delivery (and scream at him for it) and 2. Just to tease you with them

He mainly uses them on you. Taiga would probably find it funny if you tried to get him in there but you'd learn the real hard way if he gets bored of it, you're getting back in it instead. He'd have a whole bunch of toys sweetly pleasure you and just ... Forget that you're there. Going back to whatever he was doing before. But coming back, he would happily remember that you're there and continue where he left off. Poor kitten's been milked all day, he can at least provide the sweet friction they're craving.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Much like expected this feral creature can be 1 of 2 ways. He's either yanking you up off the floor and up onto the bed but he's not tucking you in - you're a grown person you can do that - roaming over you and admiring his handiwork. Licking over bites, chuckling at you when you whine or complain. If you ask him to hold you, he will but it's not likely gonna happen of his own accord. At least not at first.

Or 2. Taiga is now officially spent and used up his ability to care about the situation. Tell you to put on your clothes n get out. It's not as though he's forgotten about you yet, that'll probably happen after you leave, but he's tired and he wants to be alone.

The could change the more your relationship develops, the longer your together or the more often these kind of trysts happen~ maybe then he'll want to hold you more naturally, kiss you after a bit, start to feel this actual emotional connection that he can't tell what he feels about it ... but until then just hope he didn't throw your clothes far. Hes counting down...

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Not romantic. He's not that kinda guy. If you're looking for romance maybe if you cry to Lulu enough he'll pat your head or something. But you're not getting it from him. He can be cute, he knows he can be, he doesn't want to be. Even though he's leaving marks on your body like somehow they'll make him remember, that there's so much evidence how could he possibly forget you?

All the motions could be there but it doesn't feel very romantic. He called you kitten, kisses you like your saliva is the only thing keeping him alive, bites you so hard the liquid crimson feeds his hunger. But theres no affection in those eyes, just this urge to devour, consume and own. He can't be your prince charming. But you're not with him because you want that. You just wanna hear him call you kitten and grab you like you're weightless, force your hips to move even when they're exhausted.

Even if he does love you, you'll be the last to know.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Taiga would find a lot of things humorous during the moment, he'd definitely laugh at you loud enough for the whole world to know he found you funny in some way shape or form. He couldn't be serious the whole time, not even when he's in his serious moods, he's going to have a good time in some way.

He even enjoys tickling you just to watch your body write and squirm against your own will, it's cute. You're quite cute. So easily breakable under his hands yet you trust him under them every fucking time. He still doesn't get it, even if kitty wants some attention clearly you can get it elsewhere, so why him? Why purr under his hand? Well. He's not going to say no, he'll just sink his teeth in and write his name on your skin. You've made your mistake and he's not letting you or him forget it.

"squirmy lil thing," he laughed in mockery as you shifted around uncontrollably, while he yanked you against him, "can't hear ya~ ya want me to whaaaat~?"

And he hasn't even started fucking you yet. Maybe you're too much fun after all.

Not at all. Nope. I cannot confirm this man shaves. I doubt it 100% percent. I don't think he's like super hairy like a werewolf but he's not groomed. It's messy but he really doesn't care, he's got armpit hair, chest hair (but not that much tbh), a large happy trail and his legs look like a war zone of red. He tried grooming once when Lulu yelled at him about how grossly hairy he was, fine, he'd try it, but then got yelled at for clogging the drain and so he never did again. Not worth the hassle and honestly he forgot half way...

But with that he extends the same to you. Don't do it if you don't want to, he hardly gives a fuck, you taste just the same either way.

[pixxievomit]

[ sleep. ]

jay is nodding off again.

despite his best efforts to hide it, your vision worked perfectly fine. he sat at the table with his chin propped up in one hand, the other loose with a pen just leaning against his palm. he'd gone from making little remarks towards your ramblings about school to barely even humming.

you crossed your arms and leaned your hip on the counter, watching in mild amusement as his lashes fluttered in attempt to stay awake, lips slightly parted like he was one foot in dreamland.

he isn't even awake enough to realize you're crossing the room until your fingers push softly through the pink mess of his hair, guiding his head back.

"hey, sweetheart," you whisper, hands stilling at the back of his neck, fingers lacing.

he attempts to blink at you, sluggish and clearly struggling to keep his eyes open. "m..fine," he mumbles like it's taking a second for him to catch up to his own words. "just listening."

"no, you're not," you muse softly, leaning to softly nudge your nose against his before kissing the tip of it, then the bridge. your lips brush over one cheek, then the other, before stopping at the corner of his lips. "you don't even know what i've said in the past fifteen minutes."

you watch with a raised eyebrow as he blinks a few more times to force himself further awake. "that's not-..i'm awake," he says, clearing his throat as he straightens, reaching out to curl his pointer finger into your belt loop.

you tilt your head, taking a second to take in the soft features of your boyfriend before tipping your chin, gesturing to his notepad. there's a few words for an article outline, smudged and written in a way you couldn't even read them back to him. sleepy gibberish scribbled out that proved your point.

his lips part like he's got some defense, but they just close again as he huffs, more sleepy than anything. your only reaction is the laugh quietly and finally press a light kiss to his lips, hands coming up to his jaw, your thumbs brushing over his warm skin. normally, you'd get nudged back or swatted at in his stubborn attempt to prove you wrong, but he just melts a little, too worn down to bother.

"go to bed," you say, leaning to press a light kiss to his forehead this time. "you've done enough today, my love, and you don't need to be sleeping at the table."

you knew it wouldn't be that easy, it never is and when they words "want to stay out here with you" sound, you can't help but shake your head with the faint breath of a chuckle.

the worst part? you couldn't even say no to him. you should drag him up and shoo him off to bed like a good boyfriend, caring about his health and quality of sleep, but his words sink too deeply into your chest to do that. besides, he's looking at you like you're the only thing keeping him from getting lost in thoughts that shouldn't be there.

"I- jay.." you begin like you could even attempt to tell him no. "alright, alright. come on."

♤♤

the clock reads "2:04 AM" when your cursor passes the bar and you sigh, just blinking slow at the screen in front of you. you ended up on the living room floor five hours ago, notes staring back at you as you sat to crunch for an assignment due the next day.

jay had made it about three minutes into you explaining your essay topic before he was out, cheek pressed to your thigh and gone to the world. you didn't wake him, just reached back to drag the throw off the couch to toss it over him before returning to your work.

now, you were starting to feel the ache. one hand moved to scroll, reading over what you'd written, while the other rested gently over his hair, thumb brushing lazy strokes against it. he was still for the most part and let out a tiny sound here and there, occasionally nuzzling closer to your warmth.

you glance down at him, hand shifting just enough to lightly brush his cheek. he looked soft like this and you admired it while you could, knowing that when the world drifted back in, he would go back to the sharpness he carried. you understood, you'd always understand the walls that lingered, but that didn't mean you couldn't also love the moments when they were down.

shifting your attention again, you reached to close your laptop and let out another deep sigh, head tipping back against the couch. you only planned to stay like that for a minute or two, just to relax before moving to the bedroom, but that never happened.

you dozed off like that. hand laced through jay's hair, head resting back against the couch and mostly unprepared for a new day.

[puppyluver256]

I'm anxious driving lately for different bridge-closure-related reasons so

[nana-au]

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 | and you're the (un)willing victim MDNI

warnings: afab/fem!reader, aged up characters, basically non-con, canon yuji/sukuna body sharing, sukuna calls you little bunny/little girl and yuji kid, spanking, nasty dirty sloppy fucking, multiple positions, cream pie, yuji secretly enjoys every second

all was quiet in the tokyo dorms of jujutsu high. crickets chirped outside your open window, your blinds flowing softly from the steady breeze outside. your sleeping body was unable to fight the goosebumps that kissed your skin. the chill swept across your room, your nipples perking up beneath your button-up pajama top. despite the frosty draft, you're still blissfully asleep when the door to your room creaks open. the towering figure of your classmate and good friend yuji stalks towards you, watching the rise and fall of your chest. he sucks in a breath, hands reaching out to squeeze your breast over your shirt.

you stir, eyes blinking open to your friend in front of you. "yuji?" you ask, trying to wipe the haze of sleep from your eyes. when you move to sit up you realize the large palm resting on your chest and you immediately stiffen in alert. "yuu?" you ask again, hand going up to pull off his own. you can't see his face well from this angle and for a moment you think he must be sleep walking. "yuji... are you awake?" your soft voice stirs something deep in his body, an uncharacteristic growl suddenly emits from your best friends lips. it's then he moves to straddle you, pushing you back against your bed. you look up at him, the light emanating from your open window providing you some clarity. this was not definitely not yuji. "sukuna..." you said, barely above a whisper. you see him smile before you hear the low chuckle that comes from deep in his chest.

"i wasn't expecting you to be such a light sleeper," he tells you. his gruffly voice all but confirms that this isn't the sweet boy you've come to know. he's still smiling, his hand reaching up to trace down your neck before spanning across your collarbone. the feather light touch brings a shiver down your body, highlighting your already taut nipples. he doesn't even try to hide his roaming eyes that land on your chest. instead he begins to unbutton your shirt, starting from the top button. you don't dare move a muscle. due to yuji's physicality, you knew you didn't stand a chance against him. even if he wasn't the king of curses, yuji's muscles alone gave him the strength to pop your head like a balloon. with sukuna fronting, that fact became even more obvious than before. without yuji's softness, his body was a lethal weapon that caused your heart to thump heavy against your ribcage. "scared, little bunny?" he asks you, his hands still slowly making work of your top. the nickname makes you frown and his grin only grows. "little bunny..." he teases, leaning down into your ear. his breath is hot and all encompassing. yuji's lips graze your earlobe and sukuna says, "you get it? because your little heart is going thump, thump, thump," he emphasizes every syllable and your body recoils. his hands undo the final button and he doesn't bother to look when he pulls open your top. your nipples hit the frigid air but they're quickly encased by his hands. his tongue reaches out to lick your ear, the sound of his heavy breaths almost deafening. you're stiff under him while he savors the taste of your skin. something wet hits your nipples and you jump. "you like that?" he asks you, pulling off one of his hands with a sickening pop. he shows his open palm to you, a sickeningly long tongue lolling out. you cringe and he only laughs, reaching down to keep teasing your nipples with his hand-tongues. your stomach clenches, becoming queasy while he has his way with you. "aww c'mon little bunny. put on a show for the kid," your eyes shoot to his, almost like you're trying to see yuji behind them.

"he's there?" you ask, your voice shaking a little.

"where else would he be?" sukuna retorts, his filthy hand-tongues move to explore more of your skin. their spit glistening against your skin and you try desperately not to lose your resolve. you don't want yuji to see you scared.

"is he always there?" you ask him back, intrigued slightly by the thought. you had always just assumed yuji went unconscious when sukuna took over. clearly you had been wrong.

"always, little bunny," he breaths heavy in your ear again. his mouth moving to your neck. soft kisses line your skin. his lips gentle in a way you didn't think possible for the king of curses.

"why are you doing this?" it's a brave question, but while sukuna was feeling talkative you thought you'd give it a try. the all-too-familiar grumble in his chest comes back, finding humor in your bravery.

"teaching the kid a lesson," he says simply. going back to exploring you with his mouth, moving down to kiss between your breasts. his hands lower to your hips, gripping them and massaging the plump skin.

"a lesson in what?" you gulp, helpless underneath him.

"in taking what you want..." he pauses for a moment, looking into your eyes. "you think this was all my idea? i have much better things to do than think about fucking some silly little girl all day," he presses another gentle kiss on your breast before meeting your gaze again. "told him if he just fucked you he wouldn't be so pent up all the time," another kiss to your nipple this time. his tongue swirls around the bud and you don't know what takes over you when your hip bucks up into him. he notices, but he doesn't comment. "thought i'd do the kid a favor and fuck you good since he was too pussy himself," realization slams into you like a bus. yuji... likes you?

you snap out of it almost as quickly as you thought it. this was sukuna speaking. nothing he said was the truth. he was a curse, and not just any curse. the king of curses. deceit came as easily to him as breathing. wait... did he need to breathe?

"you're lying.." you tell him. he continues smooching your chest, one of his hands grabbing your tit roughly, giving him a better angle to suck it into his ready mouth. you have no choice but to watch as he bites and sucks. he finally removes himself once he feels satisfied.

"you got me. i'm lying," he laughs, but his face remains serious. "not about the yuji thing though. the kid definitely wants to fuck you," he muses. "but fucking you is doing me the favor. he's been giving me a serious case of blue balls with how little he gets. haven't had a good fuck since being trapped in this body." his hands suddenly rip down your pajama bottoms, the force causing your body to jolt.

"please," you begin to plead. realizing all too suddenly just how serious the situation was. he ignores you as he peels your thighs apart with little effort. "i'll call for gojo!" you threaten without thinking and he pauses, his dark expression growing even darker.

"do it," he sneers down at you, "what do you think that blue eyed freak will believe when he comes in here and sees yuji balls deep in your tight little pussy? that the big scary king of curses is wasting his time fucking a student? or that you and the kid are horny little brats who go at it in the dorms? answer. quickly," he barks and your mouth hangs open. the way those dirty words fall from his lips without even a stutter making you hesitate. maybe he was right. if gojo came in, he would relinquish his hold on yuji's body and you both would not only be traumatized, but probably expelled. you decided you had to be brave for the both of you. you wanted to cry, for yourself, but also for yuji. he must be so mortified watching this. you had to endure—for the both of you. you don't give sukuna an answer and he doesn't bother to press. he goes back to what he was doing; his thumb spreading apart your folds. "take a look at that kid," he grumbles. "you picked a good one. didn't know they even made pussies like this anymore," your stomach rolls but you don't show it. his thumb moves to push into your cunt, his long nail scraping painfully at your insides. you wince but sukuna doesn't acknowledge it. "so wet, little bunny. who's this for?" he teases. he pulls his thumb out, reaching it up to his lips and popping it into his mouth. he groans, eyes closed like he's savoring the taste. "taste that yuji?" 'know you've been wondering what she tastes like for a while now," you desperately want to know the other half of the conversation you can't hear. you know yuji must be tearing sukuna a new one for degrading you in this way. both his thumbs go to spread your folds open and he parts his lips slightly. soon enough, a wad of spit trails down before landing on your clit. "take notes yuji. you have to play with this little thing," he says, pointing to your little bundle of nerves with his dark nail. "most girls can't come without stimulation here," he lectures. he reaches down to toy with it and you can't fight the natural reaction that he pulls from you. your hips lift a little as he spreads his spit and teases your clit. "see yuji? they become putty in your hands," you grimace but your hips don't stop rolling. his freaky hand-tongue makes a reappearance and you begin to see stars. "that's it little girl," he mewls. you grit your teeth to hold back your whines as the long muscle works you better than any of your vibrators could. shame washes over you at the thought and you struggle to collect yourself. "you gonna come already?" he teases, your hips rolling into his disgusting hand, trying to get the perfect angle. the tongue flattens, licking a fat stripe up your cunt before circling your clit with just the tip. this time you don't have it in you to fight the moan that escapes your lips. the tongue works you almost to completion in mere minutes. you're huffing, face dusted red as you close your eyes. trying to hold a semblance of control. "she's going to cum yuji," he tells him, even though he can clearly see. you bite your lip, your stomach twitching as your orgasm lingers just below the surface. "you wanna cum, little girl?" he asks you, almost sweetly. despite the desire to say yes you shake your head. desperately gripping on to the little bit of dignity you probably already lost. "no? suit yourself," he says nonchalantly.

his hand pulls away, a string of spit and slick going with it. sukuna pulls yuji's hardened cock out of his pants and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head at the sheer size. his tip is red and drooling, the shaft longer than you thought possible. "please... don't do this," you plead.

"i have to. i'm only giving the kid what he wants," he tells you but you aren't sure you believe him. he says it so cooly, ignoring as you shake beneath him. "relax," he coos, "you're more than ready for it," you realize he's right as he slips right in. your cunt giving him little push-back. he groans so loudly you think someone had to have heard it. he pushes your thighs flat against the bed, the burn from the unnatural position almost distracting you from yuji's cock dragging against your walls. sukuna's eyes are glued to where you two connect and you swear a little bit of drool leaks past his lips. "you lookin' kid?" he asks yuji. "never seen anything so perfect in my life. fuck. this pussy was made for your cock," he's completely ignoring you. doing everything in his power to rile yuji up, you assume. frothy fluids quickly build at the base of his cock, the evidence of your arousal undeniable now. "'didn't know it was possible to get this wet this quickly," he says, more to himself. he's right though—in every aspect. you are freakishly wet, and yuji's cock felt suspiciously right buried deep inside you.

"are you almost done?" you wince after a particularly delicious roll. his hips begin to snap against your cunt meanly, yuji's cock bulging beneath your stomach with each thrust. when sukuna doesn't dignify you with a response, you assume the sudden roughness must be your answer. his eyes watch each bounce of your tits as he fucked into you with purpose.

"fuck, fuck, fuck" he groans, each snap loosening his own self control. "such a greedy little cunt," he grunts. "yuji? you've been awfully silent in there..." he says, still snapping into you with such force you feel like he's in your throat. "can't blame you kid. fuuuuuck," he pulls your legs up and over you, folding you in half without even pulling out. the change in position has you seeing stars. you don't stand a chance with yuji's cock reaching your cervix. his weight bearing down on you was a welcomed feeling. with each drag of his cock you lost yourself more and more into the feeling. your poor little pussy kept twitching from the beating she was taking and sukuna noticed each one. "you wanna come now? you gotta say it," he says to you. if he wasn't reaching places you didn't know existed you would be disgusted with his incessant need to make you admit just how badly you needed the release he was offering you. instead you meekly nodded, knowing you only had a few more strokes before you were done for. when he sees you nod, he pulls out abruptly, tossing you onto your stomach. he lifts your hips off the bed and you brace yourself for the new position. instead of sinking back in like you expected, he lands a punishing smack to your right cheek. you can't fight the cry that leaves your lips. "use your words, little bunny. or i'll edge you until you have no choice but to beg the king of curses," he lands another smack, angling to smack against your waiting pussy.

"ow!" you gasp. "please. please make me cum," the words leave your lips and so does all your dignity. but he's not done.

"who are you begging?" he asks you, and you furrow your brow in confusion.

"wha-?" you begin but he spanks you again, more harshly this time. definitely leaving a bruise.

"you know what i mean. are you begging me to fuck you, or the kid?" you aren't sure how to respond. you're scared if you say yuji, he'll switch back and yuji will be so mortified you won't ever get the release you've been needing for the past half hour. but if you say sukuna, you're not sure you want to deal with the consequences of that either. "times ticking," he grunts, growing impatient.

"i-i don't know," you admit and shockingly, he rubs your cheek soothingly.

"i-i'm gonna," you cry out, your back arching unnaturally as your orgasm hit you like waves against the shore. powerful, punishing, and never-ending. two strong hands gripped your hips impossibly hard, a foreign high-pitched cry filled the air followed by your cunt filling with cum. you could feel his cock bob with each heavy spurt of sperm he unloaded into you. you gasped at the overwhelming feeling of his hot load swimming inside of you.

"i get to chose then," he warns, but it sounds strangely promising. a few seconds pass. sukuna goes strangely silent before he suddenly buries into you from behind. you have to bite down on your hand to stop the noises that action pulled from you. he begins pumping into you with purpose. each rock of his hips causing your stiff nipples to drag across the sheets. his balls slapping rhythmically against your clit. there was something different about these strokes, though. they were rushed and unrehearsed, completely different than the rough pounding you were taking earlier. it almost felt.. romantic? it was unsettlingly raw but you didn't have time to question. you were far too busy focusing on your release.

as soon as he pulled out. yuji looked down at what he had done. his body shaking as he watched his jizz ooze out of your twitching hole. mortified, he collapsed in on himself. "yuu, you're back," you say, the sweet voice you've reserved only for him making its reappearance. "i'm so sorry yuji," you turn around to hold him, apologizing so sincerely it almost makes him sick. he doesn't say anything , letting you rub his back and coo at him. promising you know that he's not at fault. that that evil, wicked sukuna defiled you and that he was just as much as a victim as you were.

he could never tell you the truth though. that sukuna hadn't lied once and that it was him who wanted to be the one to finish you off. him who asked sukuna to switch the both of them. that he wanted, no needed to be the one to finish inside of you. claiming you with his powerful release.

[devotedsweetheart]

caleb tying you tight to the bed after you attempted to run away while he was sleeping.... again. he woke up immediately when be heard the twisting of the room's doorknob, used to the sound after hearing it so often. he jumped right up from the bed and grabbed you by your wrist when you tried to sprint, his grip on you never relenting as he dragged you back to pin you down to the bed.

"you wanna fuckin' run away huh? you wanna scream and cry, tell me how terrible i am to you? bad. fucking. girl." he spat in your face, anger taking its hold on him.

he leaned over you hastily to grab the handcuffs he keeps in his nightstand (from past experiences of catching you) and jerks your hands to fit inside them, not even bothering to put a hand over your mouth to cover your protests. he cuffs them to the bed pole, sitting on your legs to keep you from kicking at him.

tugging at your pajama shorts & panties with mean hands, he barely gets them halfway down your thighs and he's already delivering a sharp slap to your clit; telling you that if you don't shut your 'pretty little mouth' he'll do it again, harder.

lifting off your legs, he yanks off his boxers and pushes your knees to your chin, staring at your glistening cunt before grinning and returning his gaze to you. "you like it when im mean to you, pips? d'you try and run from me on purpose, just so you can get caught?" he utters, a look of mock-sympathy etched into his features.

when you dont answer and continue your nonstop sobs, he sends another sharp smack to your cunt, causing you to jolt your hips and open your eyes to look at him. "i asked you a fucking question, answer me when i speak to you. do you hear me?" he asks, leaning down to whisper into your ear. you can feel his rock hard erection right on your core and it's making you go berserk, the lack of pressure on your clit is torture.

you nod, scared of what he might do if you don't respond. breaking the silence, you whisper back to him, "n-no.. i don't. im sorry, caleb, pleas-" but before you can finish your sentence, he brings one hand from your leg to your lips to cover the whole lower half of your face, shutting you up. the stretch of his cock filling you up so suddenly causes a scream to rip from your throat as you desperately try to pull your hands down from the restraints to push him off of you.

"don't start that shit with me, baby. i know you're not sorry, so don't even try to lie to me. shut up and take it like the good slut i know you can be." he whispers straight into your ear, biting down on the lobe after.

his thrusts are unapologetically deep and unforgiving. he makes no effort to control himself, letting out all the anger he feels into your poor little pussy. when you make an effort to hurt him by kicking your legs into his back, he simply brings himself up sloppily and slaps you with the hand previously covering your mouth; plugging your nose with it.

along with his hips, his face shows all the frustration thats built up over the times you've ran away. teeth bared, eyebrows scrunched, sweat dripping down his cheek. he's beautiful in his own fucked up way, at least thats what you think.

speaking of thinking, you can't quite form thoughts clearly as your vision begins to blur, dark spots showing up in the corners of your eyes. you're thrashing your body around violently, trying your hardest to get him to let up on you. he does nothing but grin an awfully evil grin, raising his voice to speak to you. "you gonna be a good girl if i let you breathe, huh? you gonna let me abuse this stupid fucking pussy, be my stupid whore?" you nod your head repeatedly as much as you can before he finally lets go of your face.

he laughs at you when you take big gulps of air, thrusts getting faster, sharper.

you can't help the way choked moans spill out of your throat. no matter how much you try to deny how bad you like your punishment, it really does just feel so so good when caleb is using you as his personal fleshlight. it feels even better when he shifts his hand to push on your lower stomach, feeling himself in there. your eyes roll to the back of your head, whimpers and incoherent sentences rolling off your tongue. it isnt long before his other free hand is grabbing you by the hair and yanking you to look directly at where your bodies meet, making an uncomfortable position where your shoulder blades are working overtime trying not to pop out of their sockets.

"keep your fucking eyes open and look at that greedy little thing of yours taking me so well, squeezing me so tight. you feel me in there? yeah? see that big bulge, baby?" he questions and you swear you're on the verge of cumming just from the dirty way he speaks to you.

you nod as much as you can with his hand restricting your movements and he lets go of you, throwing your head back into the pillows. he comes along with you, dropping just above your lips and caging your head in with his arms.

"you want my fucking babies inside you, huh? fill you up so good just so you wont leave me again. i bet you want that... knowing how absolutely filthy you are for me. nod your head, tell me you want it." he says into your open mouth, spitting in it while he's there. your eyes widen and you begin your protests immediately, shaking your head.

"awh, pipsqueak.. i don't care. maybe once my seed is inside you, you won't try to run away from me."

[backinmyphase]

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Thinking about how obsessed King of Curses Sukuna is with you, you, who was originally just a gift from a village.

Lord Sukuna, who is oblivious to the reason why he treats you differently, who thinks you are just the most intriguing person he had seen in years. He didn't know it was over for him the moment he saw your standing there, anger obvious behind your loosely mask. You looked at him with these challenging eyes and raised your head, making that snappy comment. Normally he would have killed you right then and there.

But he didn't. In fact he doesn't even know why he had burned down that village for you.

And now you were sitting in his estate, always with that scowl on your face.

Why did he allow you to eat with him? Why did he order you to eat with him? He doesn't know. But he didn't want you to eat without him, which he just can't explain to himself.

He couldn't explain why he made sure Uraume was watching over you. Didn't know why he gave you your own chamber, so many new clothes and why he gave you permission to go inside his library. Something inside him was just telling him that was right.

And that something inside of him was so angry to see you falling into yourself. To see you neglecting your health over weeks.

It was evening.

Like always, there was a big dinner prepared for the king and he had ordered you to eat with him. But you didn't touch your food, no you just sat there, looking at your plate to avoid his gaze. Oh, he didn't like that.

He stopped eating, narrowing his eyes on your cowering figure. "Why are you not eating."

"Not hungry." your voice was hoarse but still snappy like always.

"You need to eat."

He glanced at Uraume, who shook their head. A silent note you didn't have any sickness.

You picked at the food, but still no sign of actual eating. And god, did it drive him crazy. You were driving him crazy. Your never leaving scowl and your constant denying of everything he had laid out. He just didn't get you.

He didn't know why he even bothered. But he still spoke up.

"What is on your mind?"

You looked up at him. There was no scowl, like he thought, no there was just a shimmer of exhaustion and maybe frustration.

"What am I even doing here, my Lord?" your voice didn't have any sharp in it. "I'm no servant for you, no concubine, not even a jester or anything like that. Why am I here?"

Silence flooded the room. Because you had just asked the question Sukuna asked himself every day. Why did he even bring you here?

He was clueless. Or that was what his brain was telling him.

He inspected you, your almost pleading eyes and he didn't like how you looked at him. He didn't like the almost hopeless look in your eyes.

"Did you want to stay with these people, is it that?" he took a sip of wine.

"No, we both know it's not that." you muttered, taking a deep breath. "Why do I not work for you? Why are you so -"

He raised an eyebrow at you as you struggled to find the right word. Then you finally shook your head.

"Why are you so nice to me?"

He couldn't help but chuckle, a grin following. "You mean, why has the King of Curses not killed me yet?"

You scoffed. "Yes."

"Well you see," he stopped for a moment, before speaking again. "I find you fascinating. And I like to know what I find fascinating."

You rolled your eyes, another thing he only liked when you did it. "So I'm here to be watched like an animal because the King finds me exotic, how kind."

He started to grow impatient, he didn't know why. "You think I would let a meekly animal into my library and give them their own chambers? You think lowly of me."

You started to blink at him, confusion visible on your face. It was his turn to scoff now.

"You're fascinating because I don't get you. And I want to know you. That's why I brought you here." At least that's what he thought.

You turned completely silent, your eyes now looking down onto your plate again.

"That's why you don't 'work' for me, I don't want you to. I don't need you to." he took another sip. "You just shouldn't get your hands dirty."

He looked at you, waiting for a response. Watching how you avoided his gaze, how you gulped. For a second your eyes flicked up to look at him, but went down immediately as your eyes meet his.

"Stop." you were muttering again.

"What?"

"Staring at me like that."

"Why?" He grinned, lowering his voice. "You know I like to stare."

He saw a faint tint of blush on the part of your face he could see. You were silent for a while until you cleared your throat. "I can't eat with you staring at me like that."

. . .

"Alright, I can leave you alone to eat." he stood up. "But you have to now. Eat."

A small chuckle escaped you. "Is that an order?"

"No, it's a request." With that he turned around, leaving to go to his chambers.

You waited til he left the room to breathe. Your body finally relaxing. You looked at Uraume.

"He sounds like he is in... Does he know how he sounds?"

Uraume shook their head. "No, he has no clue. But he wants you to eat, so please do."

@thequeenofcurses

[shouyuus]

18+, vi-shaped brainrot, mdni

consider college roommate!vi who is the star of the rugby team and just such a fucking jock about it, spends hours at the gym, has pre and post workout drinks and never closes her door when she's blasting rock music, leaves pink hair dye on the bathroom counter, stains the tub when she gets drunk and tries to redo her roots, calls you everything but your name -- sweetcheeks, dollface, cupcake, princess -- isn't shy about her hookups, doesn't even bother to apologize the mornings after another pretty cheerleader scampers out of her room, shrugs and winks when you come out of the bathroom with a tiny thong dangling off your finger that's clearly not either of yours.

college roommate!vi who does kickboxing on the weekends and teaches a kid's course at the local gym. the first time you go there to drop something of her's off as a favor, you can't help but stare at the way she laughs and chases the kids around, so gentle with her movements, so careful, guiding their punches, correcting their forms. and the kids love her -- it's so easy to see, the stars in their eyes, the color high in their cheeks, the way the girls cluster around her legs and the boys are constantly vying for her approval, how she tries her best to divide up her attention equally between all of them.

college roommate!vi who goes real quiet the first time you laugh in her presence, a real laugh, not one of those ha-ha ones you snipe at her when she's trying to get a rise out of you, or teasing you about spending all your time in the library, but one that shakes your shoulders and makes your whole face light up. who has to blink when you cock your head and ask if she's okay bc she was so busy staring at you, wondering about the weird thumping in her chest, the tightness in her throat.

college roommate!vi who's there for you when you're stressed about your dissertation, and she knew you were smart, but listening to you rant about it at 3am in the morning, she's starting to realize that... you're kind of a genius. to be so young and already doing a doctorate in mechanical engineering, and the things you're trying to do -- they could conceivably change the world one day. who freezes when you let your head drop onto her shoulder with a heavy sigh, telling her that you don't know what to do.

"you'll figure it out, cupcake. with a brain like yours? you always do."

college roommate!vi who realizes way too late that she's kinda got it bad for you, bc since when did she start getting used to the sight of you wearing one of her gym shirts in the mornings, making scrambled eggs, rolling your eyes when she yawns her way into the tiny kitchen, leaning an arm against the fridge as she looks you over before asking what's for breakfast. who's gotten so used to falling asleep to the soft clatter of your computer keys that when you leave to visit your family for a weekend, she tosses and turns and can't figure out why it's impossible for her to get to sleep, wanders into sliver of space you guys have crammed a couch and tv into to call a living room, slumping down there to stare at the ceiling, only to feel her fingers graze against something on the ground, who tugs out the thing from under the couch only to find herself staring at one of your bunched up socks with the goofy cartoon cats pattern, and she remembers (suddenly) finding you tearing your room apart the week before trying to look for it because it's your favorite pair of socks.

she finds herself chuckling, letting the sock fall again, but the tightness in her throat doesn't recede, and invisible fingers clench in her gut as she lets her eyes fall shut.

"well... fuck."

college roommate!vi who doesn't know how to act when you get back from your weekend away, when you throw yourself into her arms, your skin still smelling of the crisp fall air and something warm, and spicy -- it reminds her of the holiday market you dragged her to last year, the cinnamon and spiced apples, the hot, mulled wine, the way it burned all the way down when she took the first sip, the way it worked the most darling flush into your cheeks above your pink knit scarf.

"i've got a present for you!" you say, when you finally extricate yourself from her gasp, your arms still around her shoulders, her hands still settled around your waist.

"y-yeah? you didn't have to do that, sweetcheeks --"

"yeah, but i saw this in a store window and -- well i just... it reminded me of you," you say, pulling back to dig something out of your travel bag, and it takes everything in vi not to tug you back into her chest. so instead, she settles for knitting her arms across her front and coughing to hide the fact that her throat's just tightened over itself at your words. you? seeing something and thinking of her? gods, she was so far gone.

"here," you say, pulling a small black box out and offering it to her on the palm of your hand.

vi stares, before reaching out to take it, her eyes flickering up towards your face, only to catch you chewing on your bottom lip in a way that makes her mind frizzle out at the edges. she refocuses her attention on the box -- opening it, she finds a tiny little gemstone, set on a thin golden chain --

"oh..." she breathes, tugging out up to let the gem dangle from between her fingers.

"it -- it's an alexandrite stone," you say, your voice a bit reedy, but you push on as vi continues to stare, "it's uhm -- one of the rarest gemstones in nature, but the cool thing is it changes colors depending on what kind of light it's under --" you reach up to grasp her wrist, her lungs seizing at the contact as you tug her into the incandescent light of the kitchen. "see? it was light blue a second ago, right? and now it's --"

"violet," vi says, her voice soft and disbelieving.

you quickly let go of her wrist, pursing your lips and wrapping your arms around yourself, looking anywhere but at her face.

"yeah -- i just --" your shoulders shrug up as she stares at you, her sky-light eyes wide, "it... it reminded me of... you."

college roommate!vi who, ever since the "necklace incident" (as the rest of the rugby team likes to call it), hasn't really been the same. she's put on the necklace and not taken it off for even a second since the day you gave it to her, but now she doesn't really know how to act around you -- bc did you actually like her? i mean, the necklace is... a pretty big thing to just give someone, but what if you were just giving it to her as a friend? as a roommate? she agonizes over it to the point that the rest of the team are so, so sick of hearing about it, they lovingly tell her to just fuck her and get it over with already. but vi insists that she can't -- it's different with you.

college roommate!vi who's stunned speechless when she gets home to find you staring at your computer, your expression blank. and at first, she thinks something's horribly wrong, but then you're slamming into her, squealing about how you've done it -- your thesis defense went well, that you're a doctor now -- and she's picking you up, spinning you around, buoyed up by the effervescence of your happiness, pressing a kiss to your cheek --

"oh my god, congrats princess! i knew it! i always knew you could do it!"

"thanks -- god, i just -- i've wanted it for so long i... i don't know what to do with myself now that i've got it, y'know?" you say, still suspended in vi's arms, your feet lifted off the ground. it takes a moment before you both seem to realize the position you're in, and vi clears her throat as she lets you down, you looking away, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool the heat gathering there.

after a brief pause though, vi chuckles, reaching out to slip a finger beneath your chin, tilting your face up towards her's.

"c'mon, put on one of those pretty dresses of yours. we're going out."

"out?"

"yeah. to celebrate."

you blink as vi pulls her hand away.

"but it's like... 4:30 on a tuesday."

vi cocks an eyebrow, a smirk twitching at her lips, "yes, and? c'mon cupcake --" her eyes catch yours and instead of looking away, she holds it this time, something flickering behind their powder-blue depths that makes your skin prickle with heat, "i'll show you a good time."

college roommate!vi who takes you to one of her favorite clubs, tugging you through the crowd, the jostling bodies, holding your hand in her's, trying really hard not to think too much about it (or the fucking insane little black and pink miniskirt you put on), telling herself that it's just to make sure she doesn't lose you in the crowd, grinning when someone knocks you into her chest, and she finds her arm wrapped around your waist, fingers scrunching the material of your skirt, your palms splayed on her chest.

she buys the both of you a round of shots, watching with a hitched breath as your tongue flickers out to lick the salt daubed on your wrist, the way your eyes squeeze shut when you take the shot and your lips wrap around the lime slice, tries to ignore the twist in her gut like a turning blade, the way her whole body flushes with heat, the dull ache caught between her legs when you wipe your lips, your eyes bright and a little blown out, your cheeks flushed with color as you giggle and lace your hands with hers again --

"come on! i wanna dance!"

college roommate!vi who is just drunk enough to let herself dance with you, to let herself lean in to the way you're twisting your body, fingers in your hair, your eyes closed, an indulgent smile on your lips, who let's herself imagine (just for a second), pulling you in to kiss you, how soft your lips might feel on hers, how silken your skin might be beneath her hands, who tries not to groan when you lean in closer, link your arms behind her neck, press your whole body against her's, who grips your hips just a little too tight, grinds you against her, sees the way you gasp, your eyelids fluttering as you eyes glaze out --

college roommate!vi who can't help how she groans at the sight, tugs you in by the back of your neck to mash her lips to yours, crushing you to her as she kisses you (finally, finally) and you let yourself he kissed -- your fingers tangle in her choppy pink hair, and she swears you make this sweet, mind-bending whimpering noise in the back of your throat that drives her up the wall and right over it --

but when she pulls back, she sees the look on your face -- shocked and little confused, but you're drunk, and she doesn't wanna do this with you -- at least, not like this.

college roommate!vi who pulls away, only to have you follow her all the way out the club, into this small dark alley, her shaking her head, feeling a strange, saltwater prickle at the back of her throat as she says --

"shit -- sorry. i didn't mean to -- i just -- you were just so -- and i -- fuck, i didn't --"

"vi -- vi -- no, violet, listen to me --"

it's her full name on your lips that makes her pause, makes her turn to find you walking towards her. your lipstick is smeared, your hair a waterfall mess around your shoulders as you corner her against the rough brick of the club's exterior. faintly, she can still feel the pulse of music reverberating from inside the club, but out here, the air is damp and cold and quiet.

"i -- i'm sorry i kissed you," she says, her voice cracking over the syllables. she bites her lips as you frown up at her, your eyes searching her's before you let out a soft sigh and a scoff.

"well. i'm sorry you feel that way. cause..." you take half a step back, your arms curling around yourself before you glance back at her with a hard, determined light to your eyes as you press back into her space, your cheeks bright with color.

"i was really kinda hoping you'd do it again."

vi's breath punches out of her chest; it takes a few seconds of sputtering before she gathers herself enough to speak.

"wait -- what? you..."

you crinkle your nose, rolling your eyes, "i -- i thought i was making it obvious -- i mean, with the whole necklace thing -- it doesn't take a genius to figure how i feel about --"

you squeak as she pins you against the opposite wall, her lips seeking yours out, her fingers rucking up the material of your top, making you hiccup as they tease under the wire-rim of your bra.

college roommate!vi who can barely control herself when you sink your fingers into her hair, tugging lightly as you gasp out a breath, her lips tracking fire along the side of your neck, intent on making you whimper again, just the way she likes, grazing her teeth along your collarbone even as you jerk at her hair --

"vi -- fuck -- vi, not here --" you swallow around the burgeoning desire, and when you glance down to find her looking up at you, her eyes so dark they're almost black, you fight back a groan, cup your palms around her cheeks and pull her up for a long kiss.

"let's --" you suck in a breath even as vi whines at the loss your lips, "let's go home --"

"holy fuck," vi swears, somehow managing to pull herself back just far enough to taste the misty night air. she stares at you, your chest heaving, a daisy-chain of hickeys blossoming along the long expanse of your neck, your makeup good and smeared, your hair a mess, your eyes bright and so full of love as they flicker over her face.

vi smiles, helpless to the loud, uncertain drumming of her heart as she says, "y-yeah -- let's get you home, princess."

college roommate!vi who barely waits for the elevator door to close in your building before she's got you shoved up against the wall, hoisting you up, her fingers seeking out the softness of your skin, tugging up your shirt, her other hand dipping into the waistband of your skirt, her mouth open and hungry as she kisses your neck, bites down at the junction of your shoulder just to hear you moan.

college roommate!vi who's way too good at undoing your bra with one hand the second you get back to your apartment (if you were more coherent, you might've thought it hot), the door slamming closed, the pair of you toppling onto the room, breathy laughs and panting whines as she hoists you into her arms and carries you to your bedroom, laying you down so gently, kissing up your stomach till you're whimpering, your own hands pulling your top off your body, leaving you in an undone-bra and a miniskirt, your cheeks flushed. you push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as vi peaks up at you from between your legs, shooting you a wink before she's tugging down your skirt and panties all in one, an eyebrow ticking up at the lil lacey thing you had on beneath the skirt all along.

"all this for me, pretty?"

you press your lips, eyes cutting away as she looks between the bra dangling off your shoulders and the panties caught round your ankles. her lashes flutter.

"oh, a matching set," she cocks her head, running her palms up your thighs, pinning them open again as you try to press them closed, feeling suddenly much too seen (bc you'd be straight up lying if you hadn't put it on in the vague hope that the night might evolve into something like this).

she clicks her tongue, shaking her head with a cocky, shit-eating grin that makes your heart skitter in your chest. her drops a light kiss to your inner thigh, savoring in the way you whine again.

"nope, keep 'em open princess."

college roommate!vi who takes her time with you, bc rly she's been waiting way too long for this, has imagined it one too many times, but nothing can compare to the way your hips jerk up against her mouth, the way your fingers tighten in her hair every time she licks up the seam of your cunt, the way your breath catches on her name over and over again, like you can't quite get the word out even though it's just a single syllable. she groans against you, too lost in the taste of you to care about what a mess she must look like, with her tongue fucking into your desperate hole, her nose nudging your clit, her fingers digging crescent moon marks into your hipbones.

she's sure that if this were an old-fashioned cartoon, there'd be big, balloon hearts popping out of her eyes. she can't get enough of you like this -- moaning her name, your legs on either side of her face, your skin littered with the remnants of her. she has the eye-rolling thought of you the next morning, of how all these marks will still be there to remind you of her every single time you see one of them.

college roommate!vi who doesn't expect you to flip over after she's literally eaten you out seven ways to sunday, to tug her in for a soft kiss (though she really does like pressing your own taste back into your mouth with her tongue), before your fingers are inching down the length of her body to tease at her hips, trailing circles down the lines of her abs, toying with the thin line of hair that leads into her black boxer briefs.

"what are you --"

you shoot her a look that has her mouth going dry.

"what? didn't think i can give as good as i get?"

college roommate!vi who's literally going to lose her mind with the way you're fingers (at first sight so thin and delicate, but gods are they stronger than they look) are pressing into her, curling up with the kind of precision usually only associated with doctors, and then a voice in the back of her head reminds her -- oh, right, you are a doctor now. but logical thought dies after that, bc you've somehow worked your way between her legs and are looking up at her with those big dark eyes of yours, smiling sunshine bright before you drop a kitten-lick against her clit and she's twitching, keening as she cums all over your fingers.

"jesus fuckin' christ, doll -- is that what you're learning in those engineering classes?"

she's breathless, cheeks flushed, and honestly just a little embarrassed at how quickly she came, but she has to bite back another groan as she watches you lick your fingers clean, grinning sweetly up at her as if you didn't just get her off in record time.

"no, but i did do my dissertation on human-based robotics, which included a lot of late nights memorizing anatomical models so..."

vi pulls you in for a kiss, laughing against your lips.

"you're amazing, y'know that?"

college roommate!vi who can't really believe how much she's lucked out, sharing an apartment with her girlfriend, who literally cannot shut up about you, but the rugby team all agree that they'd rather have this than the months of endless pining. who brags about her genius gf to anyone who'll listen, and looks for you in the stands of all her practice matches when you can make it, who kisses you in front of everyone even when you make a show of trying to wiggle away bc she's sweaty (you don't really care).

who loves telling the story of how you guys met bc she still can't quite believe it herself, and the story always starts with --

"well, actually -- we started off as roommates."

[incognit0slut]

Permanent attachment

in which you’re far too comfortable to move from Spencer’s lap, and he doesn’t mind carrying you around

content: fluff, 1.7k, established relationship, lots of kissing, sex talk, kinda fade-to-black smut, reader being very clingy, and spencer’s tummy (my fav) a/n: i once told @mandarinmoons that i wanted to climb the man and not even in a sexual way and she said “like a koala?” and to that i answered YES! self-indulgent fics are the best

Spencer smells nice. Like, annoyingly nice. And it’s not the kind of nice that’s vaguely pleasant. No, this is the kind that settles into your bones. A mix of soap and something uniquely him that you can't quite name but would probably pay an unreasonable amount to bottle up.

Now that sounds like a dream. Imagine Spencer in a bottle, spritzed onto your neck, lingering on your skin. Imagine a personal cloud of him following you everywhere, with top notes of freshly brewed coffee and a base note of comfort that leaves you no choice but to lean in just a bit closer. You shift on his lap, pretending to get comfortable, but really, it's because you want to catch another whiff.

Your boyfriend catches you mid-inhale. "Comfortable?"

You don’t even bother pretending to be embarrassed. Who cares if he knows you’re borderline obsessed? Who wouldn’t be? He’s smart, handsome, and smells like heaven bottled in human form. So instead of pulling away, you double down, pressing your nose right into the curve of his neck as your answer.

"I'm starting to think you might be a little attached.”

You sigh against his skin, “Might be? Spencer, I'm practically grafted onto you at this point. You better get used to it."

A hand runs up your spine. “Not that I’m complaining, but my legs might actually fall asleep if I don’t get up soon.”

“So dramatic,” you tease, smiling as you press a soft kiss to his jaw. The subtle scrape of his stubble tickles your lips.

“I don’t think you’ve moved an inch in the past hour.”

“I don’t even want to move an inch,” you murmur against his cheek. "I just want to stay like this. Forever. If I could just crawl under your skin and stay there, that would be perfect.”

Spencer laughs softly, the sound rumbling under your lips. You feel the warmth of his smile as he tilts his head toward you. “That sounds sweet yet incredibly creepy.”

“You know what I mean!” You slide your arms around him, weaving them across his shoulders. “I just… I want to—ugh, I don't know… squeeze you so tight you’d become part of me? Like an extension of my arm or something."

“That definitely sounds less creepy.”

“Shut up.” Your lips trace the rough scratch of his jaw, brushing along the curve until you reach the corner of his mouth. "Don’t you want someone permanently glued to you?"

“You’re definitely making a case for it.”

“Oh I’d climb you if I had to.”

His hand slides up to cup the back of your neck. “Is this where I find out you’re secretly a koala this whole time?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum against his lips, “and you’re my tall, handsome tree.”

His laughter vibrates against your mouth, and you let yourself melt into him, breathing in that comforting scent you’ve grown addicted to. You love him so much. You love him too much that your heart feels like it’s stretching to make room for all of it.

When he finally pulls back, you can’t resist reaching up to smooth your thumb over his bottom lip. “See? Permanent attachment.”

His own thumb caresses the back of your neck in lazy strokes. You're practically dissolving into him.

"I don’t have much of a choice, do I?" The tip of your nose brushes against his as you shake your head. He steals another quick peck from your lips. "I really do need to get up though.”

You pout immediately. “Why?“

“Because my throat is actually starting to feel a little dry. I could use some water.”

“Water is overrated. Stay.”

“Honey,” he croons softly, his eyes squinting with that familiar crinkle at the corners. He thinks you’re cute when you’re clingy. “The kitchen is only ten feet away.”

“Ten feet too far. Do you know the kind of emotional damage I’ll suffer if we’re apart for too long?”

“So dramatic,” he mocks back, planting a kiss on your jaw, your cheek, and you giggle when his mouth lands on the skin between your ear and your neck. “All I’m asking for is ten feet. I promise I’ll be quick.”

“I might wither away from loneliness by the time you get back.”

You feel the ghost of his smile against your skin. “I’ll be back before you even have a chance to miss me.”

“I miss you already,” you sigh when he gently nips at the soft flesh of your neck. “Maybe you should just take me with you.”

You’re mostly bluffing, half-expecting him to laugh it off because Spencer has never actually carried you before. Not that you’ve ever minded—it’s not exactly the first thing you’d expect from him. But before you can even process it, he shifts beneath you, sliding one arm under your knee and the other around your back with surprising confidence.

And just like that, the floor seems miles away as he lifts you up.

“Wait! Wait!” you laugh, clutching at his shoulders. "Spencer!"

“I thought you wanted to come along."

“I didn’t think you’d actually carry me!”

You’re met with his steady grip, and to your surprise, he’s not struggling in the slightest. Apparently, those arms are stronger than you’d given him credit for, and it’s… well, very, very attractive. He strides confidently across the apartment, and you can’t help but let out an impressed, slightly flustered, “Okay, this is actually kind of hot.”

The corners of his lips twitch upward, but he doesn’t say anything.

“I did not know you were strong enough to do this,” you comment, then a thought sneaks into your mind, “Do you think we can try this position in the bedroom?”

He looks surprised and mildly amused. “Really? While standing?”

You loop your arms tighter around his neck. “You seem perfectly capable.”

“Wouldn’t I be doing all the work?”

“I thought you liked doing all the work.”

His chest presses against yours as he lets out another laugh. “If by that you mean spoil you, then yes, I do,” he says, casting a quick glance around the room. “Can I sit you on the counter, or are you planning to keep hanging on to me?”

“Tempting, but you can put me on the counter.”

With a gentle ease, he lifts you just slightly higher and sets you down on the cool countertop. “I can still carry you around if that’s what you want.”

“I know,” you reply, reaching up to brush a stray lock of curls from his face. “I don’t want to tire you out.”

“You’re not tiring me out,” he assures you as he reaches up to grab a glass from the top shelf, arm stretching just enough to give you a teasing glimpse of his soft stomach.

You can’t help yourself. You reach over and splay your hands over that warm skin, feeling the faint tickle of the fine hair scattered down his belly that disappears into his waistband. He doesn’t flinch—he’s long used to your hands finding their way to him like this—but he does cast a sidelong look in your direction. Behave.

If he’s expecting you to follow some sense of decorum, he should know better by now. You give his stomach a gentle, almost smug pat, and shakes his head as he moves to pour himself water.

“What do you want to do after this?” he asks, glancing back at you over his shoulder. You don’t give him an immediate answer, but he’s already suggesting a few ideas for the rest of the evening.

You can’t even pretend to pay attention. Is it normal to be this obsessed with your boyfriend? Because at this point, your focus isn’t even on the words coming out of his mouth. Something about a documentary, maybe. He’s probably rattling off the details right now, but you’re entirely distracted, your eyes shamelessly zooming in on the way his forearm flexes as he holds the glass. Even the soft hair dusting over his skin is doing things to you.

He catches your blatant stare and looks at you over the rim of his glass.

“What?”

“You are so sexy.”

He almost chokes on his water. The glass clatters against the countertop as he sputters, “What has gotten into you today?”

Probably ovulation. But you simply shrug, legs swinging idly against the cabinets beneath you. “I just love you.”

The answer is simple. Words spoken with all the casual sincerity you feel, but it’s enough to melt his astonishment into affection as he strides over and slips between your thighs.

“You just love me?”

“Yeah,” you reply softly, reaching up to brush over the delicious roughness of his stubble. “Like a ridiculous amount. Probably too much.”

His heart is swelling, so full it feels like it’s about to burst. “I love you too.”

“That’s it?”

You watch as his nose twitches, the smallest hint of a smile playing at his lips before he sighs, “I love you so much, angel."

"I think you can do better than that."

He huffs a chuckle, "I love you too much," he tries again, "more than I even know what to do with."

You smile in satisfaction, a little triumphant over his exaggeration. You’ve taught him well. “Say it again.”

The wide expanse of his palms settles on your waist.

“I am madly,” he presses a kiss to your cheek, “deeply,” another finds its way to your jaw, “hopelessly,” he murmurs as he grows even closer to your lips, “in love,” he’s a breath away from yours, “with you.”

The space between you shrinks to nothing. You swallow his last words, letting them dissolve on your tongue like the sweetest confection. What begins as a delicate melding of warmth and breath quickly intensifies, as though he’s determined to steal every bit of air from your lungs. And before you know it, his hands are sliding under you.

A surprised squeal escapes your lips as he lifts your weight, and an even louder gasp follows when he carries you toward the bedroom.

You know exactly what he plans to do for the rest of the evening.

[milkbean69]

(tw pregnant and smut mentions)

Can't stop thinking about Yandere Clark Kent with a breeding kink. But the thing is reader is already pregnant when she meets him. Either they work together at the Daily Planet or is a normal civilian Superman ends up saving, perhaps a neightbor living in Clark's building or a teemate, Clark becomes obsessed. I'd assume reader is only a few months along, enough to show but not huge when their yet, you know.

Pregnant reader's partner has already left them, now deeming them only as the "shitty ex". You feel like you being watched constant, "I'm not going crazy, aren't I". Perhaps this pregnancy is taking a tool on you. But hey, at least you haven't been lonely. I mean a lovely man has been coming to practically take care of you. How ever he shows up either it be as Clark or Superman, he will dote on you.

" No ma'am, let me carry that", "You must be starvin darling, let me make you something" or "I bought you some food, your eating for two after all", " Now what did I tell you about doing any work while I'm around". This boy is practically driving you up the wall, but you don't really want him to leave. I mean after what happened to the last man in you life, him abandoning you would be another punch to the gut.

But you just can't shake there is something off with this one. Maybe its just the hormones messing with you mind. He feels too close to you, and ya'll only just met a while ago. Your honestly wating for the other shoe to drop. But everyone else says he so nice, you believe them, so you brush it off for now. It feels nice to have someone look after you.

Clark dosen't really know why his obsession with you is as bad as it is. I mean he knows why he likes you, but sitting in your room while you sleep, is something else entirely. He just needs to know that you and the baby are okay. I mean anyting could go wrong during pregnancy, he's read the articles, hell even wrote a few himself. But that's the thing, what he's doing make him feel like a perv.

You just make him feel so hot and bothered. He just can't stop starring at you and that little bundle of joy your carrying inside you. He is a family man, all of this has just spiraled our of control thats all. He was just checking up on you, then he saw how sad, scared, and alone you were, and it all went down hill from there. He needed to swoop in and save you because that's what does.

He likes to imagine it was him who knocked you up, and not that ex of your. God if he was here he doesn't know what he would do, I mean he wouldn't kill but how could someone be so stupid and leave an angel like you. And in you time of need, when you possibly at the most vulnerable, but don't worry he'll take care of you, always.

Clark can barely look at you for long with yout getting hard. Constantly shifting his pants so you don't see how you make him feel. He has to restrain himself from saying what he really wants to say when you cry about how ugly you feel from being this big. He thinks your ridiculous, you have never looked more beautiful in his eyes.

Thoughts of him towering over you as he spends hours and hours pumping his seed into you. Begging and screaming for him to put a baby into you, his baby, to desperatly make him a daddy. Oh but only a man can dream. The nights he spends imagining you two on the farm with a whole litter of kids runinng around, keep him fighting harder so he can come to see you sooner.

He just hope's he has everything prepared for the baby's arrival. Clark dosen't give a danm that the baby isn't his. I mean look who he is raised by, he would take in any kid without question as long as he could raise thim with you. Finding a place in the Metropolis countryside wasn't really that hard, he just hopes you and the baby like for when he brings you here.

Telling you is going to be the harder part, I mean you'll get over it everually right? I mean you can't really raise a baby in that small dingy aprartment anyway. A kid needs running room, a big o'l nice backyard to satisfy them to their hearts content. Clark will bring you after you have the baby as to not add to any stress during your pregnancy. This is good he thinks, he'll be the best dad and hopefully husband to the both of you.

[bi-writes]

your lieutenant won't take off his mask for you. ehhhh, but you can make it work, right? (18+, ghost x fem!reader)

"no one sees my face. not even you, bunny."

but you don't mind. his face surely isn't the thing that drew you to him in the first place. no, it was when you were sitting in a loud room, and it immediately went quiet because ghost shuffled in. when you watched him duck his fucking head to get through the door only to stand there broader than the width of it. when he looked down at you with what was definitely a scowl under that mask and grumbled out "little bunny" at you in the filthiest voice you'd ever heard.

he could call you those names all he wants; he likes bunnies.

it doesn't bother you, that he doesn't want to take off his mask. you can still kiss him nasty through it.

as far as you're concerned, that's his face. you pet it like it is as least, cupping his cheeks and pulling him close, nuzzling your nose against his. he huffs underneath it, but he never pulls away, and you lick a fat stripe over the bony cheek of his mask, whining when you taste salt and sand and gunpowder.

you soak it with your spit. you cradle his head, tilting it this way and that, flattening your tongue and licking over his jaw. he holds back a groan as you kiss him open-mouthed through it, pinching his fat cheeks and planting wet kiss after wet kiss over his puckered lips. his lips part easily for you, shaky breaths like music to you, and whenever you let out a soft moan, he can't help the way he fists your ass and pulls you closer.

you want him to taste you. you force his neck back, pulling his chin down, and you lean over him just enough that you can spit on the front of his mask. you press your face to his after, using your tongue to soak it into the fabric, and you practically purr when you feel his tongue pressing back, cotton practically dripping with your saliva as he sucks on it.

you can't wait to sit on his face next. top 10 ways to die, water-boarded by pussy has to be one of them.

[swordymacaroni]

A/N-In my defense, its 2:07 am.

Pairings- Toji x Reader

Summary- How does Toji react to reader pretending to be upset over something he said?

.🎀"Be quiet, would you?" Toji barks from across the room.

You trail off, face falling. "M'sorry," you mutter, face pressed against the pillow. Your singing wasn't that bad, right?

An awkward silence descends in your room, and instantly, Toji regrets telling you to stop.

"You've been singing that one verse on repeat since last week," he attempts to soften his words from before with a lousy explanation. "It gets annoying as fuck after a while."

That does nothing to help the situation, as you just make a noncommittal sound and curl your body around a pillow.

"Doll..." he sighs, before you hear footsteps heading towards you, and the mattress dips down on the other side. Toji snicks an arm around your waist and tries to pull you closer, only for you to scoot further away.

"I didn't mean in like that," he jests. You hum. "Sure you didn't." You're not really bothered by his outbursts anymore; its just his second nature and he means nothing by them.

But just to mess with him, you add a fake sniff. You can hear the sudden urgency in his voice when he speaks again.

"Doll. Turn around?" You swear his voice tremors slightly. Biting back a grin, you press yourself into the bed. "Baby-" he grabs you by the arm, trying to turn you over, to see if you're actually crying or not.

You chuck a pillow at his face and wail, "You don't love me ANYMOREEE! Why? Am I not pretty enough?" You let out the fakest sob known to mankind, but he falls for it, increasingly getting more frustrated as you move away from his reach. "No, fuck- I love you-didn't mean anything by it. Fucking sing my ears off, I'll not say a damn word-"

You can't keep up the façade and burst out laughing. He freezes, staring over at you, at your shaking shoulders and red face, before he rolls over you, forcing you to look into his eyes. When you finally stop laughing, he gives you a soft slap on your bottom, eyes narrowed. "Not funny, doll. Had me scared." He collapses onto you, pressing his face against your neck in annoyance.

"Serves you right for being a meanie," you mutter as you card your fingers through his hair.

You both fall into a peaceful trance, savoring each others scent and warmth when Toji speaks again. "I have a gun in the bedside drawer."

You open your mouth to respond but he cuts you off.

"If I ever say I don't love you, feel free to shoot me with it."

You kiss the top of his head.

"Noted"

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Movie Week

Day 1 - Fear (1996)

Male Yandere x Fem Reader, 1.7k words

 Your dad doesn't like your boyfriend.

Hardly breaking news. The amount of boyfriends who are chummy with their future father-in-law is in decidedly short supply. Like, national crisis level shortage.

Still, you aren't sure why your dad has such a problem with him.

Your boyfriend is sweet. He's charming. He takes your dog out on walks and gets along with your ancient and sour tom cat. He picks you up from school and keeps his hands to himself whenever your pops is around.

He's smart, in his own way. Good with his hands, the top student in your school's auto shop class.

A catch really. Out of your league, if you want to be honest.

But your dad doesn't want to hear any of it.

"Home before ten, not a second later."

"Don't you dare leave the living room when he's here. Either you stay where I can see you, or he doesn't come over at all."

"You're only allowed to drive home from school with him. I don't want you in that deathtrap of his any longer than you need to be."

Your boyfriend takes it in his stride. The only sign that it bothers him is the slight strain in his voice.

"Yes, sir. I'll get her home on time."

"No, sir. We won't leave the living room."

"I drive under the speed limit all the time, sir."

A different man would have given up on you ages ago. It isn't pleasant, being subjected to scrutiny and barley veiled menace every time you want to take your girl out on a date.

Somehow, he manages.

"It's easy," he tells you after yet another uncomfortable dinner with your father, his arm around the back of your seat as he pulls out of your driveway.

"I just keep reminding myself that I'm going to marry you. He'll have to soften up once I have a ring on your finger."

You can't ignore the way your heart jumps when he says that.

"Don't joke about stuff like that."

He grins at you. "Not joking. Gonna make you my wife someday."

You twist your hands in your skirt and tell yourself he's just pulling your leg. You're too young to be thinking about marriage. You need to focus on picking out graduation gowns, not wedding dresses.

Still, it's a nice thing to think about. A silly little fantasy to keep your smile in place when you get home from your date and your dad insists on grilling you. Something to dream about before bed, when the sheets are cold and you want nothing more than to have your boyfriend between them.

He brings it up again on your next date.

"Gold or silver?"

"For what?"

You're at the gun range, your boyfriend polishing up his skills. The crack of gunfire only slightly muffled by your ear protection.

He's reloading his pistol, fingers quick and fast.

"For your engagement ring."

You freeze for a second, and then start giggling.

"Yeah, right. Are you going to ask me if I want cream or ivory tulle next?"

He shrugs, cocking his pistol with a practiced, easy pull.

"I say cream. Looks better with your skin tone."

He gets into a firing stance and aims at the cut out.

"My dad might not even say yes. Have you thought about that?"

He fires. One bullet after the other until the clip is empty. The veins and muscles on his forearms stand out; he's gripping the gun that tight.

When it clicks on an empty chamber, he sets it aside and pulls off his ear protection. The retrieval system whirs as his target gets pulled towards you.

"I've thought about it," he says quietly.

You're about to say something when you catch sight of his target. Bullet holes straight through its forehead, a stray or two lodged in its throat. You count them up in your head and compare it to the amount of bullets you saw him load.

He didn't miss a single shot.

He's good with guns, but you've never seen him this accurate before. What the hell is he focused on, to land every shot?

You look up to find him watching you.

"Your dad will say yes. I know he will."

Your dad doesn't say yes.

You aren't aware of it. All you know is that your boyfriend stops walking you to your front door after school, and that your dad is awfully quiet at dinner for a few weeks.

Your dad doesn't say yes the second time either.

It's a late Friday afternoon. You're at study group with your friends while your father and your boyfriend square off against each other. Sun slanting through the big bay windows and spilling in golden stripes across the carpet.

"You're too young."

"I love her!"

"You don't even know what love is!"

"I know enough. I want to be with her. Is that so wrong? We won't get married right away."

"Not. Happening."

Your father is as tight wound as a hair trigger. Your boyfriend not much better. For a second, your dad thinks the kid might actually be stupid enough to hit him.

Go on, give me a good reason to kick you to the curb, you little shit.

He doesn't. Just pulls in a deep breath and turns to leave, door slamming hard behind him.

Your father sits down with his anger still coiled tight in his chest. Anger, and fear too. There's something about your boyfriend that unnerves him. That hair raising feeling of nails on a chalkboard. Not logical at all, but too strong to just be gut instinct.

Kid looked like he wanted to kill me.

You father has to make a conscious effort to unclench his fists.

When you get home that day, he kisses your forehead and prays that you change your mind about the whole thing. Date someone a little less... strange.

No luck. He hears you on the phone with your boyfriend all evening.

Is the kid really going to let it go? Or is he going to keep asking?

Your dad doesn't get his answer. Two days later, his car goes off the road.

Brake lines wore out and finally snapped, the cops tell you.

It's raining hard when they give you the news, little droplets of water on their uniforms despite their oversized black umbrellas.

You're too cold and stunned to answer them.

It's only when your boyfriend comes over that you manage to speak, to think of a sentence or two beyond, "But I just saw him. How can he be dead if I just saw him five minutes ago?"

He pulls you onto his lap and let's you cry into his shirt, smoothing your hair away from your face.

"It's okay baby, I'm here. I've got you."

It's only after the funeral that he asks the question he's wanted an answer to for months. The funeral parlour is almost empty. Your dad's coffin long gone.

He keeps his arm curled around your waist as you bid the last of the mourners goodbye.

"You never gave me an answer."

You blink at him, thoughts mired in molasses.

"An answer to what?"

He smiles, head tilted in that boyishly charming way of his.

"The only question that matters. Gold or silver?"

Day 1 - Fear (1996)

Day 2 - Secret Obsession (2019)

Day 3 - Hush (2016)

Day 4 - The Perfect Guy (2015)

Day 5 - The Boy Next Door (2015)

Day 6 - The Invisible Man (2020)

Day 7 - Til Death Do Us Part (2017)

[mangostarjam]

you've been touching him a lot since he got back.

itoshi sae doesn't do anything about it — doesn't dissuade you from tugging at his sleeve or sliding his jacket zipper back and forth while you talk. doesn't comment or bring your attention to it.

but he watches.

you've been around him a lot since his plane landed, making up for all the time he's spent abroad, as if your daily chat threads haven't been enough. most of the time it's just the two of you, the way it used to be. sometimes his brother is around, though thankfully it doesn't seem like you've gotten any closer to rin since sae left.

other times there's a group, mostly your friends, a mix of guys and girls who don't seem to know what to do with themselves around him. sae is used to this — fame brings strange things to light — but you treat him as you always have, except for the touching.

you don't touch anyone else.

it makes him think.

sae has his reasons. he's never let your relationship get past that line, drawn in the sand. he's a professional football player on the other side of the world, and you have a life here. you have friends (even though you still call him your best friend), you have a job (that you complain about all the time), you have family (that can't be bothered to ever congratulate you on anything).

it wouldn't be right — to make you leave. to take you away. not when he needs to focus on being the best in the world.

(he is the best in the world. all those years ago he showed the U-20 team in japan the difference between them, the way the most they could hope for was dating a gravure model. sae never cared about that aspect. he already had you.)

he lets you touch him, but he doesn't touch you back. he keeps you at arm's length — where you're safe.

and then you ask him to be your wingman.

someone else — touching you? kissing you? having you? unthinkable. sae steps out of the shower and barely dries off before pulling on his briefs and pants. steps into his room and there you are, sitting on his bed, looking good, if a little sad.

he considers telling you to get your passport updated and catches the way your eyes trail down his form. maybe this conversation would be easier if he's wearing a shirt — your gaze is too heated, too distracting. you probably think you're being sneaky, hiding your feelings as best as you can, but sae knows you.

and your casual touches are ocean waves washing that line in the sand away.

sae walks towards his closet when it happens again. your finger in his belt loop, stopping him in his tracks. "what?"

"you were ignoring me," you say. "i asked if my outfit is okay."

your outfit is more than okay. "i would have told you to change if it wasn't."

"if you're going to be my wingman, shouldn't you hype me up?" you huff.

sae feels his jaw clench at the reminder. "no," he says, and his tone comes out cold. you don't seem to notice, falling back on his bed and testing every bit of self control in his grasp. "this is a waste of time."

he goes to pull on a shirt before he does something drastic. you're saying something, but it hardly matters when his flight leaves if you'll be on the plane with him. you've covered your eyes with your forearm, so you miss the way he pauses at the foot of the bed, teal eyes drinking in your form splayed out so defenselessly.

sae climbs over you silently, knees nudging yours apart, hands planted on either side of your body. "this is a waste of time," he repeats, watching with amusement as you take in his position. a blush sweeps across your face, but you don't push him off. that's a good sign, at least.

"what, you think i'm not worth being a wingman for?" you ask. silly. you have no idea.

and then you reach for his belt loops again, as if that's a totally normal thing to do and not something that drives him a little nuts every time. sae prides himself on his control, though, so he doesn't lean down to kiss you just yet.

"tell me," sae says, "have you become this touchy with all your friends since i've been gone?"

"n-no?"

it's cute, how wide your eyes get. sae leans down a little closer. feels your breaths on his lips. still doesn't kiss you — yet. "then i won't be your wingman. you don't need one."

"why not?"

do you know how breathless you sound? sae considers his apartment in spain, how he'll need to make sure the bedroom doesn't share any walls with the neighbors. the way you sound is all for him and him alone.

"because you have a boyfriend, now."

(companion piece to this)