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chxrryhansen · 1 month

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𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍

Pairing; Dark!Rafe Cameron x Innocent!Reader

Warnings; CNC!!!! DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. smut, extremely dark themes, unprotected sex, public sex, choking, drugging? (rafe manipulates reader into snorting a line) degrading terms (slut, whore) loss of virginity, tiny bit of blood, breeding kink, size difference, daddy kink, dumbification, dacryphillia, no aftercare!! i think thats it? Minors please DNI!!!!!

Summary; Based on x.

authors note; i really thought about never finishing this because i just haven’t had the motivation or wanted to write in quite a while. but i’ve been neglecting you guys! so i tried my best to finish it, however i literally hate this fic so much so please don’t come at me bc i know its shit😛 its around like 1.3k words so… take it or leave it ig.

“Hey, so uh, you come here often?” The boy says, rubbing his nose with his right finger while motioning with his beer filled hand to the party further down the beach.

Your friend had dragged you to one of the weekend bonfires at the beach, kooks only of course. Which is exactly what you were, a sheltered, spoilt, kook. Right down to the core.

Your family had given you everything you ever wanted growing up, paying for homeschooling from the best private tutor on the island, buying you whatever the new pair of heels on the market was, but that never deterred your sweet heart.

You weren’t a prude and even though you were, you didn’t act spoilt, you appreciated everything your family did for you. You didn’t have many friends considering the private life you lived. Your best friend was your neighbour, both of you having grown up together, your father and hers both being in the same business really tied the strings in your friendship.

She was quite the opposite of you, partying every weekend, hanging out with boys and drinking to the point she was incapable of walking. Long story short, she had begged you to come, a promise of a sleepover and movie night afterwards.

Except that wasn’t the case. Within 15 minutes she had found a new man to latch onto, leaving you sitting by yourself on a wooden log infront of a small campfire someone must’ve ditched.

You looked up, a tall muscular boy with a backwards cap staring down at you, his pretty blues lighting up in the reflection of the fire. You didn’t answer him, being too caught up in the flare of his strong presence. His aura was engulfing, your body instantly being drawn to him.

You didn’t know it of course, but Rafe did.

One look at your pretty face and the sweet scent of your purity and he just knew he had to have it. A smirk appeared on the boys face as he took a seat on the log next to you, his eyes never leaving your own.

“Gonna’ answer me, sweetheart?”

“Uhm, n-no not really, it’s my first. My friends around here somewhere… not sure where she went.” You murmured.

Rafes smirk widened, how blessed he was to have stumbled upon a sweet, innocent, little bunny like you.

“S’okay. I can keep you company. Name’s Rafe.”

The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a little white baggie filled with a powdery substance. Noticing your stare he asks “You want some?”

“What is that stuff?” you mumble, knitting your eyebrows together in confusion.

“This shits the good stuff, s’ like powdered sugar. Gets you feelin’ real good, one line of this and you’ll feel on top of the world, sweetheart.” he smirks moving closer to the point your knees touch, yet his eyes still don’t leave your own.

“C’mere, lay back a little.” and do you do.

Without question.

Which of course stirs Rafe’s dominant instinct, he just cant stop thinking about shoving you onto your knees and fucking your throat til you choke on his fat cock.

But he’ll save that for later.

Rafe proceeds to pour a little powder onto your chest, sitting perfectly above your perky tits. He then reaches into his pocket and picks out a bank card, then using it to create a smooth line on your chest.

He moves in. Snorting the line right off your tits. A tingly feeling appeared in between your thighs. The sensation of his hot breath on your chest making your own increase.

He leans back and looks towards the sky, his curtains framing his face as he does so, lifting a finger and closing a nostril he sniffs deeply, sighing in relief afterwards. “See, easy as that. Your turn, beautiful.”

“M’kay” you shrug.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Rafe shifts on the log, lying down on his back and spreading his lets wide. He repeats the process on his abs, pouring the coke, creating the line and then ushering you forwards.

“Remember. All you gotta’ do is cover one of your nostrils, and use the other to sniff it right up. You got that?”

“Mhm” You nod excitedly.

“Ah ah ah. Use your words.”

“Yes Rafe. I got it.” You whisper, your pretty doe eyes staring up at him.

“Good girl.” He groans as you begin to snort the coke from his abs. His cock is painfully hard which obviously you didn’t notice, his pre cum leaking from his swollen tip, desperate to have your soppy cunt wrapped around it.

Within 5 minutes the drugs had hit you.

Your head was spinning and your control of your own body wavy, your movements restricted.

“I-i feel kinda fuzzy. Don’t like it…think i’m gonna’ go home now.” Rafe debates begging you to stay, but a better plan crosses his mind.

An eery smirk appears across his handsome features. “How about i walk you, s’ not safe for a pretty girl like you to be out in the dark all by yourself.”

The second you’re out of sight from the beach a hand wraps around your mouth, Rafe’s body pressing your own against a tall tree, blocking any escape. Your eyes go wide in fear, tears beginning to well up as you attempt to scream.

Your tears should make him irritated, angry even. But it doesn’t. It only turns him on more. His dick growing harder by the second.

“Shut the fuck up or i-i swear to god i’ll slit your throat. Can’t believe you kept this innocent act up. I can practically smell how soaked you are you fuckin’ slut.”

Before you can even think of screaming you’re cut off by your own wail as Rafe’s cock disappears between your folds. He bottoms out in one harsh thrust, your legs become slack as he grips your hips, holding you upright on his length.

“So fuckin’ tight. Gonna’ fuck you so good you’ll forget your own god damn name.” He growls.

The sound of clapping skin begins to echo, the skin of your ass turning raw due to his brutal thrusts. The tears don’t stop, only beginning to mix with the drool and sweat leaking down your face. Your wails and whimpers turn to moans as your cunt soaks his length.

Rafe knew you were perfect, that’s why he picked you. But this just proved him right.

“Fuckkk. You like that? Who knew you’d be such a dirty whore f’ me.” He chuckles, throwing his head back in ecstasy, yet his thrusts don’t slow. His pace almost animalistic.

The sensation of your pussy clenching tells Rafe what he wanted to know.

Rafe lets out a loud groan. “Jesus. You’re gonna’ fuckin’ cum aren’t you? Getting off on your rapists cock. Ask me. Ask daddy if you can cum.”

His hand wraps around your throat, squeezing tightly as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Please can i cum daddy? I need it s-so bad.” You whine, shifting your hips back and forth, fucking yourself on his shaft, your back still pinned against the tree.

“Cum. Cum for daddy. Holy shitttt, pussys grippin’ me like a fuckin’ vice.”

Your cream coats his cock as you scream, biting your lip harshly to try and muffle your pleasure.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if the whole beach heard that from here you dumb slut.” He groans, lifting a hand to fist your hair, tugging harshly.

His thick cock continues to pummel your insides, your pussy throbbing as he fucks you through your high.

As Rafe looks down he notices a glint of red at the base of his shaft. The sight of your cream and blood alone brings him closer to the edge.

“Gonna’ cum in this pretty cunt, can’t wait to fill you up, baby. Daddy’s gonna’ cum.”

His release is met with a loud growl, his balls throbbing as his load fills you, thick ropes of his hot cum shoot into your pussy.

“That’s ittttt. fuck. Taking my cum like such a good girl.”

Rafe is slow to pull out, inching you off his cock as he pants trying to catch his breath. His hold however never leaves you, ensuring you don’t fall due to the brutal fucking you just received.

His attention is grabbed at the sound of your sobs, his thumb swiping over your cheek and collecting your tears. His pretty blues stare into your own, almost waiting for you to run.

But you don’t.

“Shh Shh Shh. No more tears. Daddy’s gonna’ take care of you from now on.”

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey #drew starkey smut #rafe obx #outer banks #rafe #rafe smut #dark rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey fic #outer banks smut #outer banks fic

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gojonanami · 9 months

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MEANT TO BE ✴︎ SUGURU GETO

✴︎ summary: when Suguru defects, he asks you to come with him -- but he's not going to take no for an answer. ✴︎ cw: 18+, dead dove, do not eat, smut, dub/con, degradation (use of "monkeys"), kidnapping, hostage, yandere(?)! geto, mentions of violence (no graphic descriptions), fingering, (afab!receiving), oral (afab!receiving), reader is a follow sorcerer at jujutsu tech. ✴︎ wc: 6,046

“Come with me,” when those words left Geto’s mouth, you knew he had truly lost his mind.

“Come with you?” You repeat, as you turn slowly from your kitchen sink, your muscles tense — your cursed weapon was in your bedroom, your cursed technique wouldn’t be enough to stop him, and your cellphone was on the counter between the two of you, “Suguru, I just got a call from Satoru, not twenty minutes ago about what you’ve done-"

“And what have I done, besides try to do what’s right?” And he steps towards you, one hand in his pocket, and you step back, reaching for your phone that you thought laid on the counter behind your bag, only for him to wave it in front of you, “I thought you of all people would see that,”

Your face twists in disgust, “You killed innocent people—"

“I killed monkeys,” he spits through gritted teeth, “I killed monkeys who do nothing but produce curses and kill sorcerers. Why should the strong live subservient to a race of lower beings?”

You blink, “Do you hear yourself, Suguru? What happened to the strong have to protect the weak?”

“Why should the strong have to watch all the people they care about die, only to die at the hands of the supposed weak?” his gaze is dark, eyebrows knit together, “if you join me—"

“I’m not joining you—"

“—we can be together,” you stare at him, and he steps closer, again, and this time you don’t step away, “in a new world, we could rule over a new age,”

“Fuck you,” you scoff, as you move towards the door, “I thought Satoru was the one with a god complex, not you,”

And in a moment, he has you pinned against the wall, arms above your head, “I’ve been patient with you, love, but unfortunately I��m not in the business of taking no for an answer,” and he presses a kiss to your neck, making you shiver, “either you come with me, or I’ll let Satoru find your remains splattered against your walls,”

Your heart lurches, fear slowly settling in, as you realize this wasn’t Suguru - your Suguru who you spent afternoons with messing with Satoru, your Suguru that waited for you with an umbrella to walk back to Jujutsu High when it was raining, your Suguru that gently kissed you in a classroom when you were being far too hard on yourself — no, this was Geto, a special grace curse user.

“Will you really kill me?” You ask slowly, willing your voice to stay even, “after everything, you’ll make the choice to kill me, and no one else from Jujutsu High,”

“I don’t want to, sweetheart. There’s no meaning, no meaning without you,” his lips curl in a cruel imitation of what his smile was, “but if you leave me no choice because, I can’t let you live if you’re not by my side,”

A bitter chuckle leaves your throat, “Is this supposed to be romantic? Am I supposed to fall into your arms at the prospect of living?” you spit in his face, “fuck you.”

He flinches, his mouth agape, as he wipes the spit from his cheek with his thumb, “I thought you’d say that,” and then the plane of existence is cracked open behind him, as a swirl of curses manifest and you close your eyes, and wait.

You had no regrets.

But you do when you wake.

Your head aches, fuck, and you can’t get your bearings, your ears are ringing — a jolt shoots up your spine, as your eyes adjust to the darkness. A curse? An enemy?

No, it was both.

Suguru stands in front of you, hands in his pocket, “Hello my love,”

“Fuck you,” you spit with as much venom as you can muster, as you struggle to move, your hands chained down in bindings that restricted your cursed energy, “fuck-"

“Don’t be in such a rush, we’ll get to that part,” and his voice is so lilting, it sends a chill down your spine.

“You touch me, and I’ll break every bone in your body,” you say through gritted teeth, and his lips curl into a smile, a small chuckle parting his lips.

“And how could you do that, my love?” He steps forward, as his fingers hold your chin, “you’re mine to do with what I wish,” and your voice catches in your throat, as real fear crawls it’s way up your stomach, “but I don’t care to force my affection into you, I’ll have you begging for it soon enough,”

And your stomach turns, as he steps away from you again, “so what do you call this?” You ask quietly, as you lift your chained wrists.

“A matter of circumstance,” he frowns, as he holds his head, “I hate to do this, but I must remind you of how much you love me, how much we love each other, and until you remember, I cannot allow you out of those restraints.”

“I’ll never love you, with or without them,” you surge forward, the restraints grating against your skin, “I never loved you to begin with,”

He looks at you, with almost pity, “We both know that’s not true,” you waver under the weight of his gaze and you despise how you can’t deny it, “was the first time we shared a kiss a lie? After we had gone on that mission where we saw far too many horrors for children to see? Was it a lie those nights you came to my dorm to sleep in my arms when you couldn’t otherwise? Was it-“

“I loved you,” you whisper, “the you were before - the you that wasn’t a murderer, the you that—"

“The me that was allowing us to live under the thumb of these disgusting monkeys, the ones who kill us and let us be killed for their sake, while the corpses of my friends and sorcerers pile up like sacrifices on a pyre,” and you know he’s talking about Haibara now, “I couldn’t continue to live for a world like that, and I couldn’t allow you to continue living in it either,”

“Haibara would hate who you’ve become,” you whisper quietly into the darkness, as he glances back at you, no emotion stirring in his expression, as if he’s already thought this a million times before.

“But at least he would be alive,” your mouth open and closes, as tears burn at your eyes, “and I couldn’t stand to watch a world where more of my comrades would die for a cause that was setting them up for failure — I couldn’t stand for a world where I would lose you—"

His voice breaks, and you shake your head.

“You lost me sooner, by leaving, by killing innocent people-“

“No one is innocent in this world,” he cuts you off, “everyone’s hands are bloodied one way or another - just by living, humans contribute to the death of sorcerers, creating curses that inevitably lead to someone’s demise - whether it’s another human or a sorcerer,”

“It’s not their fault that they create curses—"

And he gives a bitter laugh, “Then whose fault is it? I never took you to be naive, my love,”

“Don’t call me that,” and he gives a twisted smile.

“Why wouldn’t I? When I love you,” he steps closer, holding your chin, “I love you so much I’m willing to risk you despising me, just so I can call you mine,”

“I’ll never be yours,” and he leans forward, making you squeeze your eyes shut, but he presses his lips to your forehead.

“You already are,” and he turns to leave, his robes sweeping behind him, “and I’ll get your heart too — one way or another.”

You only can keep track of the days by Geto’s visits. He is sure to visit you in the evenings, after his work is done. And each day he comes back more bloodied than the one previously. He always washes himself with the sink in your cell, before he turns to you.

“I want you to see what these people are — nothing more than animals. Animals that make money or curses or both - tools that run their course,”

“Just because you keep me chained up in here doesn’t mean you have to bore me to death as well,” you hang your head, and he looks at you, tilting your chin up with his fingers.

And he tries a different tactic, “You have been refusing your food for days, when are you going to eat? You can’t go on like this,” his voice has an edge of concern, “there’s nothing in the food that can harm you,”

“Says the kidnapper,” you mutter, “I’m not hungry,” and your stomach almost growls on cue, and a chuckle escapes his lips.

“Your body tends to betray you, my love,” and he grabs your food, lifting a spoonful of fried rice to your lips, “eat,”

“I’m not—“ and he raises an eyebrow — and you scowl, “I don’t want to be fed by you,”

“You didn’t mind before - you insisted I feed you between classes. Always vending machine junk too—"

“It wasn’t junk—it was—"

“An acquired taste,” he waves you off, his lips curling into a smile, “well, I always fed you, and I always will, so please?” And he offers you the spoon. You glance at him, before taking the spoonful.

And you note the bags under his eyes, and the shallowness of his face, “Have you been eating? Or sleeping?”

And he looks up, offering you another spoon, “I-"

“You haven’t been,” you shake your head, “and yet you have the gall to tell me to eat,” and you take the spoon from his hand, offering it to him, “it’s not poison, right?”

And he cracks a small smile, taking the spoonful, “you don’t have a poison cursed technique that I don’t know about?”

“You wouldn’t be alive still if I did,” and he laughs at that, and the sound makes your stomach flip — just like the first time you heard him make it for you when you had one-upped Satoru. The first time that you realized you wanted to be the one to always make him laugh like that.

Days pass, and his visits become more frequent. He doesn’t tell you of the people he murders - he learns better than to tell you - but the blood on his clothes doesn’t escape your notice. But he tells you of the sorcerers he finds that are oppressed — tells you of the two girls he’s taken under his wing. But each day, he looks more tired than the next, until you call him over to you.

“Lay down,” and he blinks, “you need to sleep,”

“I-"

“You look terrible,” you say bluntly, “lie down,” and he glances at your bed that you sat on the edge of, the chains around your wrists.

He moves towards the bed, lying down, but his head doesn’t lay on the pillow, but instead your lap, “Geto-"

“Suguru,” he corrects, peering up at you, his eyes barely staying open, “please,” and your resistance breaks, the exhaustion of being alone, the need for human contact, the softness of his body against yours - sends your walls crumbling to dust. Your fingers comb through his dark locks, softly undoing the tangles in them. And his breathing evens with time, as you lie back against the wall.

“Suguru,” you whisper into the darkness, as your eyes shut as well, and you don’t see his lips curl into a smile.

You don’t realize you fall asleep as well, until you wake a few hours later, and you’re asleep against his chest, his warm arms engulfing you. And you could swear the two of you were napping in an empty classroom, hiding from Yaga and Satoru, on a warm afternoon. And he’d whisper in your ear, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

But it wasn’t a classroom, it was a cell. And those hands no longer exorcised curses — they murdered humans.

But you could pretend. Just this once. You bury your head in his chest, and let yourself drift. But only this one time.

When you wake next, he’s gone, the only memory of him is the unchained bindings on your wrists, the faint smell of him on your clothes, and the ghost of his touch still clinging to you.

The next few days his visits grew more frequent, but only for sleep, as he nestled beside you, as you pretended to be asleep. It became routine. At first, you would sleep turned away, but by morning, you were sleeping nestled in his chest. And then you dared to ask, “why do you come here to sleep? You must have a better bed somewhere else,”

And he gives a phantom of a chuckle, “Well, that bed doesn’t have you, does it?”

And his hand dares to breach your skin before sleep steals away your consciousness, and you can’t help but let it happen — because it hurts too much to pull away.

And you don’t know why.

He doesn’t come back for several days. The only interaction you have is one of his followers bringing you food each day, and they don’t answer your questions regarding their ‘lord.’ And each day you grow more anxious, picking at your nerves like you picked at your scabs — incessantly and unnecessarily.

What if he was dead? What did it matter? All the more quickly you could return to jujutsu high, you could return to your life - a life without Geto. But the same question remained posed in your head — what if he was dead?

Would you see his dead body before jujutsu high disposed of it? Before they forced Shoko to autopsy it for any secrets the higher ups could lock away - as if he were a failed experiment rather than a person.

But he had killed so many - wouldn’t death only be right? Would that bring justice? Would that be peace? But the question remained, hanging in the forefront of your head, like a dead body from the rafters, a rope tied around their neck—

What if he was dead?

But days later, your door swings open and it’s him — “Suguru,” you nearly all but tumble out of your bed, scrambling to his side as your gaze swept over his form. Scarlet ran down his body, cuts, bruises, and scratches littered what was visible of his skin, “what happened?”

He doesn’t answer, a blank expression on his face, his hair come loose from his usual bun, bags under his eyes that tell tales of what he saw without him speaking a word of them. You reach for him tentatively, words scattered on the floor of your mind that you were desperately trying to collect, “is this your blood or someone else’s?”

“Both,” he murmurs, his eyes still far gone, as his gaze shifts to the floor, “I have no right to ask — but can you—I can’t stand to have anyone else touch me—“ and his voice breaks, breaks for the first time — the same voice that didn’t break after Riko’s death, the same voice that didn’t break after Satoru was taken away from him, the same voice that didn’t break after Haibara — it broke.

And it broke you.

“Strip,” you say simply, but you undo his robes for him, “I need to see what damage you’ve done to your body,” you busy yourself with undressing him to escape the fact that you’re undressing him. You had seen his body times before, at first in dorm rooms late at night, when you cuddled next to him, desperate for a comfort he could only provide, and then between heated kisses and intimate touches that left you near breathless and needy for him, and then distant embraces that left you feeling more lonely and far from him than before. But this was different.

He was different.

You stripped away the clothing to find him bloodied and bruised to an almost impressive, but terrifying extent. The blood smeared on his skin was mostly another’s — you learned once you started to clean his cuts and bruises with a damp rag, “Do you want to talk about it?”

His eyes slowly glide to you, cold as glaciers, “Do you want to hear about it?”

“I’m asking, aren't I?” you sigh, as his gaze drops once again, and your hands still, one of your hands drifting to his chin, tilting his eyes to meet yours, “Suguru-”

And he’s kissing you.

His lips are soft, just as you remembered. You remember the first moment you noticed his lips — it was when you had fed him a pocky after he had swallowed a curse, his brow scrunching with slight disgust — never quite getting used to the taste, but having grown as accustomed to it as he could (as far as someone could grow accustomed to swallowing what was akin to a vomit soaked rag used clean shit). You sat beside him, a pocky between your lips, as you offered him one in your hand. And his gaze softened, leaning down and biting the one between your lips instead. And then you couldn’t stop staring at his lips — wondering how they felt against yours.

He tasted like blood now, metallic and sharp as his jaw was now — no longer having the soft curve of childhood it was maybe a year ago. He swallows your gasp eagerly, giving you leeway to pull away, but you don’t. You can’t. Your lips press back into his, and he smirks against your lips, his arm wrapping around the middle of your back, so he was engulfing you even as he sat. His teeth bare down on your bottom lip, making you moan lightly, and his tongue sneaks between your lips with practiced ease, but it's no longer the sweet assault it once was — it's an onslaught, a razing of your defenses, and he knows the weaknesses of each curtain wall and bastion.

“Suguru, wait—” but he’s impatient, he’s always so impatient — the first time you had kissed, he couldn’t stop at just one kiss, he needed your lips to be kiss bitten red until he was satisfied. His hands are so large and calloused, gliding up your sides, as he pulls you into his lap, “we were talking,” you protest, but he empties the words from your head with his lips pressed to your jaw, “Why are you—”

“I don’t want to talk,” his raven locks fall in front of his face, his eyes somehow even darker, “I just want you, please,”

And your heart squeezes and breaks, the walls crumbling to nothing, as you lean in and kiss him this time, fingers threading through his his hair, while your other hand rests on his bare chest, if only to feel his heartbeat under your touch.

He was alive. Alive.

“Please,” you sigh, as he toys with the hem of your shirt, “don’t tease me,”

“Like you haven’t teased me with your existence each and every day I’ve known you, my love,” he chuckles, a noise deep from his chest that rumbles against your palm and sends a shiver down your spine, and he lifts your hand, kissing your wrist, his nose pressed against your pulse, “Do you know how much I want you? How much I need you?” and he answers the question for you, as he leans forward, his teeth graze your neck, pain and pleasure mixing in a twisted way.

“Suguru—“

He rises from his seat, looming over you, his arms sweeping — one behind you and the other holding your chin — it sends a chill down your spine, “I just arrived at a village where a child was being held - said to be cursed. But those monkeys were the ones who were—“ he cuts off, “I came too late. They had killed her - sacrificed her to purge their village of their curses - a five year old girl,” he frowns, his gaze falling, “they failed to realize they were the true curses. So I purged the world of their existence,”

You’re quiet for a moment, as he speaks, “she was a child and they ripped her to shreds,” and a tear slips down his cheek.

Your fingers brush away his tear, before you lean up and kiss him. Your lips glide against his lightly, “it’s not your fault,”

“I am always too late - I was there - I couldn’t-“ and you know he isn’t just talking about the girl anymore.

Or at least this one.

“What happened to Riko wasn’t-"

“He shot her right through the head in front of me,”

“You couldn’t sense him - Satoru could barely sense him with his six eyes—"

“Satoru could have stopped it—"

“Satoru died and came back trying to stop Toji,” you crush your lips to Suguru, if only to get him to stop talking, “there was nothing more you could do,”

“But I couldn’t stay,” he whispered, “I couldn’t watch more people die - more of my friends die, piled up like offerings on a pyre for animals who only kill us in the end,”

“I know,” you whisper, “I know-"

“You don’t,” his voice breaks, “all I could think about was finding your dead body one day,” you cup his cheeks again, pressing your lips to his forehead.

“I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur, and he kisses you — and he tastes less like blood and more like him — his arms wrapping around your waist, as he pulls you closer, “Suguru,” you shouldn’t be doing this.

“I just want to feel good,” he murmurs, his eyes lidded with lust, “let me make you feel good, love,”

His lips brush yours, and the ravine between you shrinks to a crack, as your bodies bridge the gap, before tumbling over the cliff.

His hands are everywhere. His hands have mapped your body times before, but the gentle and awkwardness had all but faded, only leaving hunger. Already, his fingers are sliding under your shirt, calloused hands sliding over your bare skin.

His lips only pause when his hands run over a new scar you had gotten right before he had gone rogue, “How did you get this?”

And his eyes are dark, “I was on that mission, with Nanami and Haibara,” your gaze falls, as his fingers trace the scar, raised and angry still - just as he was, “we got separated. There was two grade 1s instead just the one we were told. I got this when it caught me by surprise,” you swallow thickly, “but I was lucky it was all I got,” you squeeze your eyes shut, “I sometimes wish it was me instead of-"

“Don’t say that,” his words are as sharp as they always were, sharp as his touch, sharp as the curses that he pushed past his lips and the ones that left them, “don’t ever say that,”

And his palm curls around your neck, “but-"

He yanks you into a brutal kiss, forcing you swallow his words, and his tongue, as you moan, as he tastes you, “Still the sweetest thing I’ve tasted, even with the stupid things that leave your mouth,” he almost growls, as he lifts you onto the bed.

“Suguru,” your back hits the mattress, barely bouncing against the springs before he looms over you - his smile was the same as it always was, but it sent a shiver down your spine - because you realize now how predatory it was, “are we—"

“You’re mine, love,” his lips hover over yours, teasingly so, as his fingers cup your chin and his breath warms your skin, sending heat to the tips to your already curling toes, “even if I did, we’d find our way back; one way or another,” his lips brush gently over the nape of your neck, “I’d always come for you — one way or another,”

Your lips meet again, and again, as his hands slide up your sides, but this time bringing your shirt with them, as he lifts it over your head. Your skin prickles at the cold air in the room and at his hot gaze dragging up your body.

“You’re still the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen,” he whispers, as his hands gently traces the curves of your body, and it makes you shiver - the hands that had slaughtered people earlier today could be this gentle with you.

“And I still think you’re far more beautiful than I am,” your fingers run through his jet-black locks, “everyone had a crush on you,”

He snorts, “Everyone?”

“You should have seen the looks you and Satoru always got,” you roll your eyes, “the two princes of Jujutsu High - and you, you had the personality to match,”

“Well I wasn’t concerned about everyone,” his hands slip over his waist, “I only had eyes for one other,”

“Satoru?” And he rolls his eyes.

“Okay two others,” and your hand reaches to smack him, but he’s got both your hands pinned, before he’s leaning down to kiss your neck, “so temperamental,” he chides, “what am I going to do with you, Princess?”

His other hand slips down your body, past the waistband of your shorts, ripping a gasp from your lips, “already so wet f’me,” his voice rasps with a chuckle, “you’ve been needing me for a while, haven’t you, baby?”

“Suguru—“ and his fingers between to tease your leaking folds, making you squirm under his touch.

“So perfect,” his long and lithe finger teases your lips apart, “I’m surprised you haven’t soaked through your shorts, probably thought about me every night I slept next to you - you were waiting for me to roll over and take you, weren’t you, baby?” And his finger finally slips in, your back arching and mouth in a silent ‘o.’

And he hums, as he begins to pump his finger, slowly at first, but it isn’t long before another joins, scissoring and stretching you, “you’re soaking the sheets, baby, such a dirty girl,” He leans down taking a nipple between his teeth, sucking harshly.

“Please,” it was too much, too soon, and he’s grinning as his teeth dig into your soft skin, a soft groan as he feels you clench around his fingers. He holds your legs down in place, humming as they shake under his touch.

“So fucking tight, can’t wait to feel you around my cock, Princess,” and you’re so fuckin’ close - wound too tight by his touch, by his presence, by him - and when his thumb rubs circles on your clit, your hips begin to ride his fingers. He chuckles, as he leans down to kiss you, “what would the people at Jujutsu High think? Seeing you ride my fingers like a slut? Probably think you’re locked away, waiting for them to save you, not begging for me to fuck you,”

“Sugu,” and he curls his fingers just right, just as he bends down to suck on your clit. You moan his name, as you fall apart, back arching as you make a mess all over his hand, but his mouth is there to clean it up. His hot breath is the only warning you get before his tongue begins to lap at your drenched folds.

“Never get enough of you creamin’ all over my fingers for me, pretty girl,” the noises he made as he licked, slurped, and sucked were enough to make you a mess, his lips shiny with your release, “how did I go so long without tasting you, baby? Almost makes swallowing curses worth it if I can eat you out after,” his words were as lewd as the sounds you made, your hips involuntarily fucking his mouth, as he moved his mouth to your clit again, and slipped two fingers in, “tasted so good the first time, gotta have another taste baby,”

And your initial whine turns into a moan, your fingers finding refuge in the soft locks of his hair, tugging him impossibly closer, as he’s bullying your overstimulated clit with his mouth. And he enjoys it as much as you do, grinding his aching erection into the mattress, his jaw aching as he’s desperate to taste every inch of you and slurp every drop of your pussy will give him. Your thighs close in on him, as he tongue fucks you over and over, gushing as he draws another orgasm from you.

“Sugu, oh my god-“ and that’s all the warning he gets before your back arches and your toes curl. He’s grinning against your folds as he eagerly swallows your release. The tension snapped like a wire that had been on the last fringes of holding you together, and you fell completely apart.

Luckily, Suguru was there to put you back together.

You’re panting, utterly blissed out as you watch him tug off his boxers, his dick already red and so pretty, pearly white bead of pre cum nearly dripping from the tip. You lick your lips looking at him, and he smiles, so sweetly that it sent a shiver down your spine.

“So needy for me, the man you had refused to love, and now look at you,” he leans down to kiss you, letting you taste the sweet and bitter taste of your release, “such a little slut for me, aren’t you sweetheart? What happened to that mouth on you?”

He drags his thumb down your bottom lip, as your eyes flutter down to his cock again, “I have better uses for my mouth,” you kiss his chest, teasing his skin with your tongue.

And then he’s shifting you, your legs pushed up and over his shoulders, as he drags his tip over your dripping folds, “I think I’ll have you use my mouth after I use this naughty cunt, let you clean our cum off me,”

“Sugu, please, fuck,” you cry, and god he can’t wait to see your pretty face cry, as he stuffs your mouth with his dick, but he had patience. He could wait - he had waited long enough.

“Gonna need you to beg for it,” he murmurs, groaning as your cunt nearly sucking his cock in, “you fought me so long and so hard and now here you are, so pliant f’me, so I need to hear it — who do you belong to?”

“Suguru—“ and his lips press to yours, sloppily and rough, as if he wants to steal the logic from your mind, but he already had from the moment his lips touched yours, “please,” you whimper, and he’s spanking your cunt.

“Please, what?” And his lips are curled in a grin as his lips trail kisses along your jaw, “gonna have to hear the words, my filthy girl,”

And you can’t - you need him, “I’m yours,” your legs lock around his shoulders, “I belong to you, you own me,”

Your words slip from a whine to a moan, as he sinks his length into you, inch by inch, and it’s enough for him to groan, fuck, it’s enough to make him cum on the spot, “you’re so tight, baby - it’s been too long since I’ve had you, gotta make this cunt remember my shape,”

“I wanted you so bad,” you gasp, as his hands grasp at your thighs, fingernails digging into your soft flesh, “but you kept getting farther away from me, and then you were gone,” and his gaze soften, even as you moan when he bottoms out, “I loved you - I love you—"

“I love you too - I always have,” his teeth drags into his thigh, sucking and soothing the mark, he presses his cheek to the skin, “I left because I didn’t want to hurt you - and I couldn’t rise to your level,” his fingers tilt your chin to meet his, “so I had to drag you down to mine,”

You moan as he gives a sharp thrust, “Fuck, Sugu,” as his hips slap against yours, all thoughts evaporating from your mind, as he fucks you, hard and fast, any words you knew dissolve away, leaving only his name behind (and a few choice swear words).

Meanwhile, Suguru can’t stop speaking, “Never gonna want to leave me again, my sweet girl,” he purrs, “look at this sweet cunt, it doesn’t even want let my cock go without sucking me back in,” his words nearly drowned out by the sloppy noises of both of your cum soaked skin meeting together in thrusts, “tell me you’ll never leave, tell me you’ll stay,” and his movements slow to a stop, as you whine, “tell me,”

“I’ll never leave you, I can’t,” you look up with eyes glassy with need, “can’t ever leave you, I love you,” and he’s fucking you harder, feeling your walls clench around him as you’re moaning his name as you cum. He comes undone too as you squeeze him, painting your insides with his thick cum. And you’re arching your back as you feel yourself full of him - so fucking good and full — as you come down from your high.

And then all too soon, he’s pulling out, only to flip you over, on all fours, “Not done yet,” he only murmurs, leaning forward over you, as his still hardening cock bumps against your sensitive clit, “gonna make sure you never forget who you belong to,” his fingers collect your mixed cum dripping down your thighs to only shove it back in your still overly sensitive cunt.

You lurch forward, knees buckling, as his fingers working you, “still so fucking tight even after I fucked you so good, Princess? Your cunt is still so needy for my cock,” he kisses your clit, before slapping it, the wet squelch enough to make you throb, “you ready for me, my love?” He grunts, raspy and raw.

“Please,” you whine, and he doesn’t sink in slowly this time - your cunt nearly sucks him in, your mixed releases letting him slip in with ease, “f-fuck,”

And Suguru hums, all too pleased, “Not so defiant now that you’re fucked out for me, baby,” his hips piston into you, and all you can feel, smell, and taste is him, all you can hear is your blood in your ears and the sloppy noises of Suguru fucking you.

You were so close — you were so stretched out, his thrusts balls deep, as his hand reached around to turn your face to his to kiss your lips. It was sloppy, his calloused hand gripping your neck, lightly squeezing, as his tongue tasted your mouth, intent on having all of you, swallowing your moans eagerly.

“Doing so well for me, Princess,” he praises, his jaw set as your walls clench at his cock, “such a fucking good girl for me,” It was as lewd as his other hand reaching around to to rub roughly at your folds, “need you to squirt for me, need you to drench me,” and it’s too much for you.

You moan his name, shaking as you cum, squirting all over his cock as your release slides down your thighs, and Suguru follows shortly after, with a few rough thrusts, his hands grabbing your shaking hips to hold in place as he spurts his cum again inside you.

He’s panting and groaning, as he slips from you, a swear leaving his lips as he pulls out, his seed dripping down your thighs as well.

And you’re slumping on the bed, your sheets sticky with your release and sweat, as he gently turns you over, your chest rising and falling as he settles on top of you. His fingers brush your hair from your face, “Can we discuss moving you to the main house with me now?” He asks softly, as he presses sweet kisses to your flushed skin.

“Yes,” you murmur, your lips slowly meeting his in a soft kiss, “as much as I don’t agree with your methods still, I can’t live a day without you,” and he smiles, “I can’t help but be drawn to you,”

“And that’s why I couldn’t let you go - there has to have been a meaning to this,” he smiles, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw, before he’s guiding your body so that you’re settled between his thighs, his cock brushing against your lips, “and now there always will be.”

✴︎ a/n: so this was inspired by a character ai (which i wanted to credit the creator but i can't find), but this was dark, so read the content warnings. i'm trying out different formats for my fics so excuse the changes. also i never was into geto until season 2 straight up hit me like the isekai truck.

#suguru geto #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut #geto x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto angst #sab [mlist]

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s1x-s1x-s1x · 2 years

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All it takes is for me to do one art project for Human Anatomy and Physiology Honors and now I wanna save up my money from my babysitting gigs to buy myself a shitton of art and crafts shit from Hobby Lobby and Michaels 😔

#like I’m already in knitting club #and I’m tempted to ask my knitting club moderator if I could have a one-on-one meeting to learn how to knit personally #cuz personally I need a lot of individual interaction with my teachers and authorities #and I really wanna learn how to knit sew paint #all the arts and crafts #cuz I wanna show my love for other people through art #I already do with me using my boyfriend’s characters in my story writing #but I want other talents to show my love #like knitting a sweater for my close friend and her fat cat whom I love #or painting another close friends favorite thing with watercolors #or maybe showing myself self love for once #like expressing myself through beautiful things like art #or knitting myself a blanket that I’d love instead of just buying one online #or maybe even trying something new out like baking or cooking #all ways of self care and expression and love #god this is so beautiful I’m gonna melt #dove speaks #I just wanna be gentle and loving bro

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morganitering · 6 months

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Because I'm the Weakest

Pairing: yandere!Satosugu x fem!reader

Warnings: Rape/non-con, Dead dove, darkfic, dissociation, trauma, rape fantasy, rape aftermath, vomiting (not during sex), unhealthy relationships, non-consensual drug usage, drugged sex, canon typical violence, sexism, implied/referenced alcohol usage/abuse

Contains: F/M/M, spitroasting, oral sex, penis in vagina sex, blow jobs, face-sitting, come play, overstimulation, voyeurism, slight size kink, humiliation/degradation, vaginal fingering, mentioned Nanami.

Word count: ~6,5k

Summary: Growing up as a female sorcerer has not been easy, especially when you are overshadowed by two prodigies. You used to form a tight-knit friend group, but now in adulthood everyone battled their own demons whether it be a god complex or feelings of inferiority. Gojo Satoru revives a group chat that was almost long forgotten, inviting you and his boyfriend for a long weekend, just like the old days. Before the regrettable night, you wouldn't have ever thought that you'd need to raise a fist against a friend.

A/N: Hey everyone, another fic but this time featuring our two favorite dudes with insanity turned to the max. This fic is once again full of warnings and proceed with caution and read the tags! Remember to take care of yourself. Otherwise enjoy and feel free to like and comment <3

read on ao3 PART II

“Booring,” Satoru complained audibly as he looked through the streaming services’ different movies and series. The little icons changed from bombshell babes to twisted faces with titles written in blood. He was sprawled over the corner of a ridiculously huge couch and he was wiggling his foot as a nervous tick of his. He wasn’t wearing his usual garb, instead he had opted for something more relaxed and comfortable.

“If you’re so bored you should help us out in the kitchen,” Suguru sighed, his black hair draping over his shoulders, still slightly wet from the shower he had taken earlier. When you had pointed out that he was leaving droplets of water everywhere where he went, Suguru had just smiled at you and told you that it’s better for hair to air dry.

He held a knife in his right hand and the other one held onto a cucumber to keep it in place. His fingers were slender but by no means unmanly. Suguru wasn’t too fixated on the vegetable in front of him, chopping away with confidence only experience would provide.

“And where would the fun be in that since I got you two as my private chefs?” Satoru pouted as he shoveled candy in his face.

“You’re going to lose your appetite, if you eat candy now,” you chimed in, poking the halloumi that kept on sizzling on the pan. The water evaporated in a mist that warmed your cheeks in the cool apartment. It wasn’t actually cold in the open plan kitchen, but you had spent long enough in front of the appliances to break a sweat.

“I’d eat it anyway,” the white haired man whined as he got up from the couch finally settling on a tv series that started playing mindlessly in the background. “So, what am I supposed to do?” He asked after grabbing a piece of pomegranate from a small see through bowl. He walked behind you both like a shark, eyeing the ingredients and you, uncomfortably close.

“Set the table and learn to bitch less,” you joked.

“You wound me,” Satoru said, feigning sadness, but did as he was told.

The three of you were residing in an apartment that Satoru had bought himself from one of the skyscrapers surrounding Tokyo. After Jujutsu High it had gotten increasingly hard for the three of you to meet as adult responsibilities weighed heavily on both of their shoulders, – especially Satoru’s, but you saw the similar pain carried in Suguru just as well.

You were not weak, but you could not compare to the two prodigies. On the days when you felt down, the pain of third wheeling constantly ate you up, sometimes so much so that you rather left the two men talking together in the group chat. It furthered the wedge between you and them, until the messages became sparse and you almost could pretend not to know them.

It had been six months since the last time you met, but one day Satoru broke the silence and a notification popped up from your shared chat. It had taken you by a surprise, you were vaguely aware that even him and Suguru had issues with fitting each other in their lives, due to individual missions and what not. So the fact that Satoru decided to deliberately send a message to you as well, got you anxiously excited. He reached out to you. You. A high school friend that barely kept in touch with him.

“Guys! I refuse to work this weekend so come to my place. Let’s have a get together like the good old times ❤️ ❤️?? A little sleepover if you will!”

“Lol what about the higher ups?” Suguru had asked, typing back way too fast.

“Actually never mind I don’t want to be made into an accomplice in your crimes,” Suguru had continued.

“Am I invited too?” You had asked, hands shaking slightly as you stared at the bright screen, already tucked into bed. It was late, but Satoru was a known night owl.

“Damn, what have I done to earn this type of reputation 😭” Satoru complained, reacting to both your and Suguru’s message. You could hear his voice as if he was there in the same room as you.

“Of course you are invited, silly. I wouldn’t send this here if you weren’t.”

So now you were there, living an almost ridiculously domestic life with the couple that you had been hanging out with ever since you were sixteen. They had not changed too much. They were still both tall and slender but years had rid them of the rest of the baby fat as they started to resemble more men than boys, vigorous fighting showing in their bodies in an ever gained muscle mass. You supposed you were the same too. Battle hardened. That’s the word you were looking for.

You were just about to sit down but you saw long limbs reaching out to the white chair pulling it backwards. You looked at Satoru with a raised eyebrow. He was acting weird.

“What? I’m a host. I’m being hospitable,” he said, voice melodic as he pressed his hand on your shoulder to pet your arm reassuringly a few times. Suguru laughed quietly as he sat down next to Satoru.

You ate and drank, buzzing with energy. It was like no time had passed and you wondered why did you ever stop talking to these two. After a drink or two you were brave enough to ask for some hot gossip. Like every high school friend, you went through old drama, like how ugly Nanami’s haircut used to be.

“Has Nanami found love yet?” You had asked. He seemed like the type to find a decent relationship first out of all of you, but to everyone’s surprise it was these two men.

“Do you still have a crush on him? I heard that he’s quite a looker nowadays” Suguru bounced a question back at you with a smile tugging on his lips. It was that one expression that looked a tad too kind.

“No, I don’t. I was just curious,” you tried to move on from the subject. You did not really discuss your relationship history with these two, at least not anymore.

“Why?” Suguru asked, leaning on the hand he had placed on the table. The atmosphere felt off, it was as if he was challenging you. You looked at Satoru who seemed to be equally as interested in your answer.

You scratched your neck awkwardly.

“I- I think he’s too soft,” you said blushing at the implication of your words. You had turned your gaze to your almost empty bowl, your mind going to improper places. As you were buried in your embarrassment, Satoru and Suguru shared a silent look with each other.

At some point during the evening you had moved to the white haired man’s bedroom. He wanted to show you the view from the window since he lived on the 30th floor. It was magnificent. The busy streets were bustling even during the night and you stared at the small lights that blinked in different colors. Your eyes followed the cars that swerved left and right as some people were gathered up in front of bars for a smoke break. You barely could make them out from the height you were in.

Satoru’s bedroom was basically the size of someone’s apartment. The bed was huge and sleek, unlike the common area. This room was a lot moodier and darker and it actually showed that he lived here, small bits and bobs decorating shelves and few paintings were hung up on the wall that you reckoned were Suguru’s taste.

Your drinks had changed from light cocktails to expensive red wine that you were almost scared to consume, but when Satoru saw hesitation in you he made a point to assure you that it’s all on him and after that almost instantaneously Suguru asked you something, leaving you no room to overthink.

The uneasiness still followed you. It was a gut feeling that you were really bad at listening to. You did not believe you were in danger – at least you’d like to think that as a jujutsu sorcerer you’d be trained to recognize threats by now. Luckily the red wine relaxed you, lulling you to the feeling of safety.

The volume of music was loud as the three of you listened to some throwback songs that still made you shamelessly want to dance. You were celebrating embarrassingly in Satoru’s room laughing, swaying your bodies along with the beat. It was as if you were in a club, except this was way more intimate. The world spinned around you, the warm lights mixed with the glimpses of the night sky and the longer outlines of your friends. You felt light, time slowing down and going overspeed at the same time as if you were alone on the highway. Your friends’ smiles stretched on their faces, eyes twinkling manically as both of the men appeared to you in double. Eventually when you tired each other out the whole group collapsed on the bed still humming happily. Satoru’s bed was plush and big enough to have room for the three of you.

You noted the way the silk felt like a warm hug underneath you, the ceiling moving like a slithering snake’s skin on savannah.

Satoru was lying on his back on the left side of you, his white hair now more tousled than before whereas Suguru was on the right leaving you in the middle of the two men.

“I think we should play a question game,” Satoru’s voice was bordering on a whisper. The music had stopped.

You stayed silent. “Satoru, I’m not feeling too good,” you managed to say. The bed was a ship and you were a passenger of the sea.

“I didn’t know you’re that lightweight,” Satoru’s hand reached out to your head to pet you, the gesture meant to lower your guards, but in your ever increasing discomfort, his touch only managed to make your skin tingle with aversion.

“Just humor us for a bit, it could be like the good old days, right?” Suguru argued, flashing a dead smile at you.

“Okay, whatever. Ask me something,” you rolled your eyes, too tired to fight them in your weird mental and physical stage.

“Hmm,” Satoru turned to his side to face you, his blue gaze piercing yours as you were still laying on your back. You had no idea when he had removed his sunglasses. You heard Suguru moving next to you as well. “What do you mean by Nanami being too soft?” The way Satoru laid down the question was impish.

The tone of the conversation had taken a full one-eighty and you opened your mouth to answer with only lies on the tip of your tongue, but then you decided against that. Those two had a very good bullshit radar.

“Do you want to hear what I think?” Satoru grinned playfully as he licked his plump lips once.

“I think Nanami would bore you out of your mind, missionary on Mondays without the lights on? Ugh, I wouldn’t want that for my worst enemy,” he said, laughter hollow full of malice. You couldn’t believe your own ears.

“I think you want it rough and behind that tough girl act, there’s an insatiable woman with some wild fantasies,” he blabbered his obscene thoughts. “Tell me, have you ever had sex with two men?” Gojo’s voice was loud and it was as if he was talking to you from a speaker that had been locked in another room. He was too close, too far away and simultaneously too here.

“What the-” you got cut off.

“Don’t curse. It’s unseemly from a woman,” Geto said calmly.

“Answer me,” Gojo demanded. During high school you would have described Gojo’s eyes as a beautiful spring day. You would have said that he reminded you of blue skies with perfectly white fluffy clouds, but now his eyes had turned to something much paler and darker. They reminded you of deep untouched snow drifts turned to blue in the moonlight as they sparkled ominously, waiting for the first little animal that dared to break the pristine condition.

“What did you do to me?” Your voice was not your own, it was weak, the accusation of your words turning dull as the red wine you had drank earlier sanded the edges away.

“Nothing permanent,” Geto said.

His admittance striked terror in you. Realization hit you, you were not safe here and you felt the familiar warmth flowing in you like a second nature. You manipulated the cursed energy, channeled it and let it flow steadily in your body guiding the power to your hands, but something in it felt unstable, it felt like a chord that was almost broken just barely connecting.

“Did you know that some drugs really affect the ability to use cursed energy? Not that it would matter in your case,” Geto explained, his voice overflowing around you, sticking to your skin like honey.

“Fuck you!” You yelled letting out a gust of wind to both sides, throwing the two men away from you. They landed nimbly to the floor, like cats, as you yourself hopped up from the bed, your vision blurred, walls moving back and forth, small figurines on the shelves changing color others dancing in front of your eye lids. Your head ached, pain banging against your skull, gnawing at the nerve endings that sent panic infused messages across your body, screaming: Stop moving!

“Oh so you want to spar? Go on then, show me what you have,” Geto purred.

It was a pathetic attempt in your current state. Your feet took you towards the door that Geto had come to protect. Hands and feet clashed together in close combat as you drew your cursed energy that was flickering unevenly in your body. Every time you got too close to escaping either Geto or Gojo kicked you further away.

The white haired bastard wasn’t even using his infinity which only added salt to your wounds. He deliberately chose to prance around you, letting you at times touch him a wild smile on his face. There was no cursed energy, no flashy techniques, just you and two overpowered men.

“Do you remember what they said in school when facing someone stronger than you?” Gojo asked, dodging your fist.

“Don’t be a hero,” Geto grabbed your arm and twisted it painfully behind you. “Contact someone better equipped to handle it,” he said and shoved you forwards with a force so great that you staggered towards Gojo’s table with the MacBook wobbling with force earning a “Hey, that’s my computer!” protest from the man himself.

The lights went out with a sound of shattering glass, leaving the three of you enveloped in the darkness, only city lights illuminating the room. Disorientated by the sudden change in environment you froze, breathing heavily as the two men practically surrounded you. Gojo appeared in front of you not a hair out of place.

“And with that, you’re dead. You really should not get distracted during training,” the white haired man shared his advice talking to you with the same tone he used on his pupils. “Truce?” He offered his hand.

You looked up. There was something sinister about the way they hovered over you. Geto’s beautiful prince-like features had turned harsh and angular, the shadows sharpening his face even more. You swallowed a bunch of bile, the effects of forcing yourself to move taking place.

“The power disparity is too big,” Geto said. He almost pitied you. You were a smart girl, you’d figure the best move soon.

You grabbed the hand bitterly. Gojo helped you up and Geto wrapped his arm around your waist when you were about to fall again.

“Careful,” he mumbled, his hand trailing underneath your shirt. His touch felt cold against your burning skin that was damp from sweat. “We wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” he taunted.

“Take her shirt off. I’ve waited long enough,” Gojo said impatiently, tapping his foot on the floor.

“Always so demanding,” Geto chuckled as he worked your shirt up, unclasping your bra unceremoniously, your breasts now free for the two men to ogle.

“Perfect tits,” Gojo said as he pawed at you and played with your nipples. You were completely overwhelmed and out of energy. Luckily, you did not have to stand on your own as Geto helped you to stay up his hands unzipping your jeans.

“Why me?” You squeaked your head drooping in defeat as you looked at Geto’s hand that vanished underneath your panties, your trousers still on you. Your question went unanswered.

“Satoru I think you might have been right about your theory,” You felt Geto’s smile on your neck as he referenced the earlier conversation regarding Nanami.

“Really? Is she wet?” Gojo asked curiously.

“Soaking,” Geto said as he explored your soft folds with ease. “Did fighting us make you feel better about what’s going to happen? At least you can tell your friends that you did not break easy,” Geto mumbled onto your skin pressing kisses to your neck, his hand still working on you going up and down tantalizing on your slit.

Gojo dropped to his knees pulling down the rest of your clothes. A whimper left your mouth as you shook your head powerlessly.

“Lift her leg up,” Gojo instructed. Geto slid his hand behind your right knee, lifting it up till you were wobbling on one foot as you leaned on him for support. The white haired man had his lips slightly apart as he looked in awe at the sight unfolding in front of him. His mouth was watering as Geto maneuvered his hand back to your folds, spreading them in front of Gojo’s face so that his boyfriend could take a long hard look at everything you were offering.

You saw the gears turning in Gojo’s head as his expression turned to a mischievous one. “I want her to sit on my face,” he licked his lips and made his way to the bed, throwing the shirt on the floor.

“Can you move?” Geto asked as he let go of your leg, holding onto your trembling body. He tipped your head towards him, his face looking almost worried. It reminded you of the old times, but this was not the old Suguru. This was someone new. Twisted.

He helped you to the bed, where Gojo had been waiting, completely naked, his chest heaving in anticipation. Your eyes scanned him from head to toe, stopping at his cock that had already started to curve upwards. It already looked big, bigger than anything you had ever taken.

“Like what you see baby? Cause me too,” Gojo said jokingly. “Well, come here then or do you want to fuck us dry? Because I’m fine with that,” he hurried you, the threat looming over you.

You climbed on top of him, saddling his face. Gojo’s hands immediately grabbed at your ass, pulling you towards his mouth. You could imagine the pink tip of his tongue trying out where you were the most sensitive. He was too impatient to tease you, quickly finding the bundle of nerves that was begging for his attention. He lapped at it as obscenely wet noises filled the room. Gojo sucked on your clit and you moaned loudly, throwing your head back, a sheen layer of sweat on you.

You felt him hum into your cunt as you felt the weight shift behind you on the mattress, Geto’s hand moving on Satoru’s length, pumping it roughly.

“You see, Satoru here is a bit of a munch. He is loud during the day, but put a cock in his mouth and it works wonders at silencing him. Apparently he likes the taste of pussy too,” Geto said with a devious smile on his lips. Gojo groaned animalistically into your wet heat as the black haired man felt his own hardness straining against his boxers. It took everything in his power to not to take off his clothes and fuck you till you were cock drunk and babbling incoherently, but he had too much fun playing with you.

“How does it feel like having the strongest sorcerer lapping you up like a regular man?” Geto’s voice was just a hush in your ear. “Men and women around the globe are going to be jealous when they hear that Gojo Satoru wanted to stick his dick in you,” Geto taunted you both as his hand focused on rotating around Satoru’s tip, spreading out the drops of precome around his cock. Satoru bucked his hips up involuntarily.

You came. Hard. You thrashed around Gojo’s head as the man between your legs held onto you stubbornly, licking and sucking through your orgasm. You felt something warm trickling straight to his face as the pressure in the lower half of your body exploded. Your voice was high pitched and desperate as you rode his face till you were sore, your already weak legs giving out.

Gojo pushed you off of him, gasping for air, pupils blown out in arousal. His face glistened in your juices and his saliva.

“You know what, for a man who’s shaming me for being talkative, you sure speak a lot yourself Suguru,” he pointed out. Suguru laughed, honest to god laughed, his eyes squinting contently as Satoru pulled him into a kiss.

There was something incredibly erotic watching the two men, knowing that Geto would taste the remnants of you as their lips smacked together messily. Their bodies tangled together, black hair flowing around white as Gojo buried his hand in Geto’s luscious strands. Gojo pulled his boyfriend’s face up gently exposing the bobbing Adam's apple that he kissed reverently. It was now Geto’s turn to saddle Gojo.

“I think you need to take your clothes off. Give her a little show,” Satoru said, biting into the skin on Suguru’s clavicle as his hands fumbled with the black haired man’s belt that opened with a clink.

Geto pulled his black t-shirt over his head, his taut muscles flexing. It felt like forever when Gojo caressed the man on top of him, his face in a constant grin. He took down the boxers inch by inch until Geto’s cock sprang out after being suppressed inside his clothes for too long.

“Get on fours,” Gojo ordered as you clumsily did what he told you to. He moved behind you whereas Geto took place in front of you.

“Arch your back.”

You stretched yourself, lowering your torso and propping your butt up almost as if you were offering yourself on a silver platter. Gojo’s hand came down to your ass with force making your body jerk when he dug his nails on the soft skin.

“Wow, you must fuck a lot of dudes judging by how low you can go. If I knew you were a whore, I would have bent you over earlier,” he laughed, his finger prodding on your entrance.

Geto pulled you from your hair. It wasn’t the nice kind of pain that came when one would grab them near the scalp; instead it stung like hell, when Geto yanked your head up, putting you on the perfect level of his cock.

Gojo inserted one finger simultaneously inside you and almost immediately added another. You whined as his fingers scissored you open, your lips almost touching the head of Geto.

“You know, I get to lie with this amazing man every day. Show him the same respect as I do,” Gojo said. Had you not been caught up in their fucked up power play, their love for each other would have truly warmed your heart.

Geto’s thumb stroked your cheek as if to apologize for what was about to happen. He let his hand trail down to your bottom lip, swiping across it gently.

“Open.”

Satoru pushed his hand almost knuckles deep into you, a guttural moan making its escape from your lips as he used his hand to finger fuck you. Geto used your opening mouth to his advantage to stuff his cock in you. He was huge, your jaw already hurting. His tangy taste spreaded in your mouth as he softly rocked back and forth, not wanting to choke you just yet.

You hollowed out your cheeks and focused on the tip of his cock as you used one of your hands to touch what you could not fit. Geto’s eyes were half lidded as he guided your head to a rhythm that he liked as you squirmed underneath Gojo’s touch.

Gojo removed his hand from you leaving you empty, you almost missed the sensation of him, but soon felt the man behind you poking your folds with something much bigger than his fingers. You mewled in panic when he entered you, your eyes widening in shock. God he was huge.

“Focus. Eyes up here,” Geto said, patting your cheek with an open palm. The way you looked up at him made Suguru feel close to high, your pupils widened to the size of a plate, eyes glistening in tears that you held back, still holding onto a sliver of pride. Brave girl, he thought to himself.

Gojo fucked you sloppily, squelching, slapping and your gurgling filling the room as both the men used your body to chase their own highs. You felt like you were drowning and when one withdrew the other one rammed into you without a second thought. It was hard to keep your attention on Geto when his boyfriend did everything in his power to make your task at hand challenging, when his long cock grazed upon that one spot inside you from time to time.

“I’m going to finish in your mouth,” Geto was out of breath, his grip tightened around your skull. Gojo groaned behind you with his fingers digging into your hips. You were sure that you’d have handprints tattooed on your skin by the end of this night.

Geto’s movement got erratic, his cock hitting the back of your throat making you gag around him painfully. The black haired man relished in the wet warmth your mouth provided him. He was panting as pleasure coursed through him, your despaired moans only driving him further. Hot stripes of his come coated your mouth. You wanted to spit it out, or swallow it, anything to get rid of it as your face soured in disgust.

“Keep it in your mouth,” he advised as he pulled out of you. You almost wanted to spit it on his face as an act of defiance. Geto smiled at the confrontational look on your face as if he knew what you were thinking. “Good girl,” he purred when you had decided not to go against him.

Gojo flipped you quickly around to lie on your back, your legs floating in the air awkwardly as he entered back into you swiftly. He pulled you in a feverish kiss, his soft lips slightly swollen. His tongue prodded inside your mouth, Suguru’s come spreading into his mouth as you explored each other. It felt disgusting, playing with someone’s fluids like this, but somehow it made your cunt clench around your white haired high school friend.

There was something deeply primal in the way Gojo drove into you, his head almost resting on yours as he fucked you deep and hard. You were vaguely aware of Geto’s eyes following the act in front of him, admiring the way Satoru’s muscles moved with every move, drinking up the disheveled look on you.

Satoru’s hips came to halt as he plastered his seed on your walls, making sure that he wasn’t too deep, keeping his thrusts shallow enough so he could see him leaking out of your used cunt.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, spent, the after glow warming him. “You didn’t come right?” He asked you, feeling slightly tired.

“No, but it doesn’t matter,” you rasped out your throat feeling hoarse after the abuse it had taken. Frankly you wanted to sleep as well.

“Suguru, can you help her out? I want to watch,” Gojo said as he fluffed the pillow underneath him to get into a comfortable position as if he was about to open the television and watch his favorite show.

“If you hold onto her other leg,” he said as he propped your left leg around his waist and Gojo took hold of your right one. You were helpless and unable to protect yourself when you tried to squirm away from the two devious men.

Geto’s nimble fingers gathered up Satoru’s come that was trickling down between your cheeks. He pushed it back inside you, moving his fingers slowly without a hurry in the world. It reminded you of the calm before a storm.

“You’re going to give us one more right?” Geto’s voice was reassured when he added another finger into you, thumb trailing to your sensitive clit. He knew just what to do, to get you fast back to the edge that you were teetering on earlier, already feeling overstimulated from the rough treatment you had gotten. His fingers made a come-hither movement hitting precisely your g-spot.

Gojo held onto you whispering sweet nothings to your ear, his thumb caressing your thigh. He was gentle, his touch light, eyes half lidded as he enjoyed the small whimpers coming from your mouth. He spoke to you, told you how much he had wanted you from the beginning. He spoke of how he saw that you wanted him – them. Gojo let you know how well you were doing, taking what they dished out to you, how you were brave and oh so good. He attempted to bury you in his twisted love, six feet underground, anxiety and arousal covering Geto’s fingers.

It was too overwhelming. Gojo next to you, Geto between your legs, your world still spinning around you, overstimulating touch and a coil about to snap. You wailed hollowly as you came apart on Suguru’s fingers one last time.

***

It was deep in the night, around two AM to be precise. You had shot your eyes open as the wave of nausea hit you. The two men had fallen asleep cuddling each other, limbs tangled on each other. You got up as quickly as you could, your head ache punishing you from your choices, stomach churning dangerously.

With a pitter patter from your naked feet, you carried yourself to the extravagant bathroom, barely having time to put the lights on as your nausea took over.

You doubled over the toilet seat, emptying your stomach of your earlier dinner and whatever else your friends had slipped in your drink. You held onto your hair desperately trying not to make a mess. A warm hand landed on your fist bunching up the rest of your hair gently.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” Suguru said affectionately, stroking your head. “Let it all out. You’re going to feel better soon.”

The acidic taste filled your mouth once again as if it was reacting to Suguru’s company. Your body forced you to throw up stomach fluids after having nothing else in it.

The way he took care of you brought up memories of the times you had taken one too many drinks, after your partner of that time had broken up with you. You remembered the way he had held you crying, snot and tears covering his shirt as you broke down.

The sound of water pouring into a glass echoed on the walls and you heard the rattle of an ice drawer disturbing the silence.

“You should drink this,” Satoru showed up leaning on the door frame, offering the glass to you. You hesitated.

“It’s just water.” He said and took a sip as if it would prove you anything. “See?”

You grabbed it from his hand, when you decided that you didn’t care anymore, downing the entire glass in almost one swing. The cold scraped your tender throat punishingly. You should have drank more slowly.

Waking up after the night had turned to day, the windows no longer covered by the blinds. You did not remember a lot of the act, except vomiting, but that came afterwards. The city was already moving fast, a new day offering new opportunities and new exciting journeys.

You felt physically a lot better, still weird, but you no longer felt like collapsing to the ground nor did you see things twice. It was almost like you had a hangover. You looked around Gojo’s room rolling on the bed that was empty feeling relieved of having space.

There were still signs of yesterday's fighting, but random shards had been taken care of and the lightbulb changed into a working one. You had your own pajamas on you, not having the slightest idea when and how you got into your clothes. Feeling nervous you got out of the bedroom walking to the toilet to empty your bladder. As you wiped, you felt around your crotch, searching for the remainder of different body fluids. You had cleaned yourself up. Or someone had.

You washed your hands, scrubbing them together with fervor, pumping out a heap of soap on your palm.

You repeated it once.

Twice.

Until your skin was scrubbed dry.

You looked at yourself in the mirror just to see familiar features, but not anyone you could recognize. You opened the overnight bag that you had left on the side of the sink to brush your teeth and spit out the foaming toothpaste. A smell of dough frying on the pan wafted to your nose as you heard commotion from the kitchen.

You took steps to the living room to find Suguru in front of the stove flipping pancakes as Satoru was hunched over a pile of strawberries nibbling on them happily. Upbeat rock played in the background as the two men joked around and chatted. You stared at them, something seething in you.

“Good morning! We’re making brunch,” Suguru exclaimed as he flipped a pancake over “Do you want coffee or tea?”

Nails bit into your skin as you clenched your fists together hard, your knuckles turning to white as anger turned on like a switch. You wanted to rage, go absolutely berserker, throw things at them, scream how dare you over and over. Some part of you also wanted to forget the night, pretend that it’s a nightmare, sit down with them to eat some fucking brunch.

“What if I tell someone,” it wasn’t really a question that you wanted them to answer.

“And what would you achieve with that?” Gojo retorted, popping a ridiculously big strawberry in his mouth, leaving the green stem outside as he bit down, the trash floating to the table.

Suguru placed the now ready pancake onto the white plate. He grabbed the black ladle to pour more mixture on the warm pan, before he started speaking calm but collected. It was this matter of fact tone that he used as if he was disappointed in your stupidity since he was always speaking the truth. The audacity of men or something like that.

“You know first hand how some clans look down on women, not believing that women should be sorcerers in the first place. So how do you think these powerful people are going to react to you saying that two of the strongest sorcerers assaulted you?” He mused, the conversation reminding you of ethics class where people discussed your human rights as a starter dish, completely disregarding that they were talking about real lives.

You knew how those types of people would react. They would see it only as normal, a woman’s place as a breeding machine, your sorcerer blood and womb more precious than your soul. They would argue that you were lucky or maybe that you had asked for it. Besides, it wasn’t exactly atypical of people in your line of work going insane, the trail of dead comrades keeping one up for countless nights. And who better to take anger out on than the people who are perceived as less.

“Even if they did believe you, it wouldn’t change our life at all. They need our skills and well, his money,” Suguru continued as Satoru grabbed three coffee cups and placed them on the kitchen island. As if, you were staying. “It would change yours though.”

That’s when realization hit you. They were the type of evil that were completely aware of their sins. They knew exactly what was right and wrong, but they simply did not care, the world as their oyster.

“You’re insane,” a tear rolled down your eye, your body trembling like a leaf.

“Not denying that one,” Satoru quipped, not taking anything serious like usual.

“If you want to, you can leave. You are free to run your mouth however you want, block our numbers, whatever makes you sleep better. Or you can eat some pancakes as friends and have powerful allies for the rest of your life,” Geto said. “I’ll ask again, coffee or tea?”

You bit your lip as the conflicted emotions flashed through your face. You despised that you viewed them still as your friends as much as your enemies. It was weird to love someone who had hurt you in one of the most violating ways possible.

“Coffee,” you mumbled as you sat down on the bar stool hanging your hands on your sides as Suguru poured the dark liquid on the blue cup.

“We got you Plan B too,” Satoru said, throwing the cardboard box into your hands. “You should take it. I’m not ready to be a father,” he added.

You fumbled the package open, popping out the small pill on your hand. You didn’t know how they knew that you weren’t on birth control nor did you really care. You placed the tablet on your tongue taking generous gulps of water as the couple continued on cooking.

Music played as the sun shone brighter, lighting up the whole kitchen, furniture basking up in the natural glow. You ate in peace, mainly Satoru and Suguru talking together but every once in a while you added something in the conversation. You fell quickly back to the old habits, maybe at times chuckling at their stupid jokes.

You pushed away the night. You tucked it in a corner of your mind that you did not dare to look at for many weeks to come. You were just three old high school buddies catching up, nothing more. The flashbacks you saw were not yours and the long weekend continued on as a happy sleep over.

#tw: noncon #dark fic #yandere jjk #yandere geto suguru #yandere gojo satoru #gojo satoru x geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 9 months

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Shrimpy?

We have Grim, and now our dearest Shrimp Prefect is here (I finished them August 18th but haven’t posted them yet).

#dove knits #koebi-chan #does this count as a Yuu-sona???#twst #twisted wonderland #shrimp #my knitting #they’re about 20 or 25 cm long #grim towers over them #I was cursing myself the entire three days it took me to make them #why? because shrimp are decapods; aka they have 10 legs #ramshackle dorm is now complete #ignore the towel; it’s the only blue thing that i have on hand #can’t do fun poses with them really; alas #also ignore that they don’t have eyes please #btw i finished knitting them while watching the OG little mermaid; which felt fitting #yeah i was knitting them while waiting for my laptop to charge when i was writing malleus's soul match #i am not knitting the rest of the cast; dear gods; i still want to keep my sanity

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oceantornadoo · 4 days

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bloody perfect

this is so insane i am so sorry

ao3 link

roommate!simon riley x f!reader with a blood/period kink, dubcon, slightly mean!simon, blood as a symbol for love and devotion (two and a half steps away from cannibalism)

—

the door to your apartment opened in a blurred flash, keys jangling from the door. you snapped shut the book you had been reading, jumping to stand at attention, like some poor imitation of a soldier. like your roommate.

“hi, simon. nice to have you back.” you squeaked out, forcing your shoulders to relax. simon had his back to you, gloved hands fiddling with the lock. his boots looked dirty, streaks of dirt staining the floor. your gaze lifted up to the back of him, looking impossibly bigger than before he left for deployment. he somehow filled out his jeans more, thighs and ass hugging them in all the right places. even his black sweatshirt seemed strained against his shoulders, fabric fighting the breadth of his wingspan. your eyes landed on his head, hair messy from taking off his balaclava. you felt yourself step forward once, twice, almost in a trance. it had been so long.

“can feel ya starin’, love. miss me?” simon turned around, his smirk mean around the edges. you were hit with the full force of his gaze, new scratches on his face, a bandage on his arm. “you-you’re hurt.” he gazed down at the bandage, as if just realizing it was there. “‘s nothin’. didn’t answer my question.” you gulped audibly, almost comically. the air was sticky sweet with your nervousness and his cockiness, getting thicker by the minute as he kicked off his boots and made his way towards you. you didn’t understand it, this sudden change in your dynamic. you’d been cordial roommates, sharing a few meals and a movie or two. it was nice to have the apartment to yourself (that’s what you told yourself on cold nights), nice to have the rent taken care of with an absent roommate. but something had changed. some hunger had festered, sickly growth set behind simon’s eyes. he met you in two steps, taunting you with his height as he forced you to crane your neck towards him. it was his nearness that threw you off, made you say some insane thing.

“i missed you.”

his eyes flashed, clearly not expecting your submissiveness. practically a bitch in heat, rolling over to show him your tummy. he could almost smell the desperation coming off you in waves, the need for intimacy, the need for him to darken your doorstep. he could almost smell something else.

simon lowered his face to that juncture of skin between your jaw and collarbone, nosing at it gently. “missed ya too, dove.” you hummed as he nosed further, like some battered K9 who never retired, practically foaming at the mouth. he slipped his gloves into his back pockets, silent as a ghost. “‘aven’t gone on any dates, hav’ ya?” you shook your head vehemently, almost knocking into his own with the force of your eagerness. “thas’ a good girl." he rewarded you with skin on skin contact, calloused hands brushing up and down your jaw. you practically moaned at the contact, your body sorely missing the touch of a man. he maneuvered you back to the couch, laying you down with controlled restraint.

“y’ve been lonely.” you opened your mouth to answer but he cut you off, one large paw covering the bottom half of your face. simon tutted, practically clicking his tongue like a scolding teacher. “wasn’t a question.” words escaped you, jaw opening and shutting with no sound. you settled for a nod, pretending you had some semblance of control over simon’s actions. his gaze trailed down your body, eyes stopping for a second at your heaving chest, noting the pebbled nipples behind your sleep shirt. you moved to take it off, hands shaking, but that same hand shot from your mouth to your hand, gripping it hard. “not tonight.” your brows knitted together. did he not do foreplay? you had been without sex for far too long to entertain that idea. just as you were about to voice this particular concern, he squeezed your wrist hard, resisting from twisting the delicate bones beneath him. “shut it. stop askin’ shit. y’re not in charge ‘ere.”

“now this.” his hands moved to toy with the hem of your pajama shorts. “can smell ‘er loud and clear.” he brushed a hand over your lower stomach, pressing into your flesh with a groan. you let out a small moan, practically a mewl, as the heat of his touch battled the simmering cramps you’d had all day. “simon.” you bit back a gasp. “simon, it hurts.” so frail under him, practically begging for ghost to come home and take care of you. he shushed you with a kiss to your stomach, lips brushing the fabric of your pajamas. he tore off your shorts with practiced restraint, the hands of a trained killer dragging down each inch like each one was its own mission. each glimpse of your segment of skin was the target, weapons trained on the underwear it revealed to him. ghost let out a groan, the sound rumbling through him to you, his body practically molded to yours. his thumbs found your hipbones, small circles repeating their path.

“simon, you’ll mess up the couch.” he grunted. “need a bigger one, anyway. shut y’r pretty trap, dove.” you followed orders immediately. he dove in nose-first to the seam of your underwear, trailing down slowly. “‘s sweet.” all saccharine under him, the beast within beating at his ribcage, screaming to be let out. ghost was a shark in the water, dangerous at the first smell of blood. the need to claim, to conquer, make use of the fertile body under him. to eat. to feast.

in one fell swoop he was tugging down your underwear, yanking off the offending piece of fabric and flinging it to the floor. you hissed as your skin met the cool air, unused to being so exposed in your vulnerable state. “there she is. come ‘ere.” there was no experimental lick, no hesitation at the sight of blood. ghost went from one battlefield to another, preferring bloodshed over the silence of domesticity.

he started at your outer lips, practically cleaning you up, movements made for his taste and not your pleasure. blood coated his tongue, mixed with your seeping wetness. one final lick and he moved to your hole, winking at him, welcoming him home. his hands pressed your back upwards, crooked nose set against your clit. “bloody perfect.” he chuckled at his own joke, chuckled at how your body was already shaking under him. he tongue-fucked you expertly, sloppily eating you up. the blood mixed with cum made a pretty pink on his pale skin, fingers digging into your back as he pulled you impossibly closer. the tension in your core was getting harder to ignore with every lick, every time he said here she is and some welcome home, dove. he moved the bottom of his palm to press down on your clit, rubbing his nose in it, and you were coming, core clenching around nothing as your body emitted the loudest sounds. “ther we go, com’ on.” whispers of encouragement to your cunt, thick fingers joining in to coax another orgasm. one turned into two, your slippery pussy welcoming him in desperately. all whiny under his touch, squirming as he banded the other arm to hold down your stomach.

“nowhere ta fly, dove.” that didn’t stop you from trying, hips bucking into the air as he added a third finger. you were unbelievably full, stretched out like his personal fucktoy. he changed the angle, reaching deeper with calm strokes as he found the spot to make you crazy, gummy walls touching his rough calluses. he beckoned inside you, like he was telling you to come here, and you did, cunt clamping around his fingers.

“simon, simon it’s too much i-“ he shook his head, making that beckoning motion again. you spasmed even more, months of tension releasing under him. “there we go, she jus’ needed sum attention, yeah? not working with your own fingers, hm?” you nodded your head, agreeing with him passionately. “gonna split ya with my cock soon, see ya all fucked out.” your lips formed a small “o”, the crassness leaving his mouth like it needed to be washed with soap. “‘s get you to a shower, dove. go’on.” you scrambled out of his arms, clothes forgotten on the floor as you flew for the safety of your bathroom. he knew his dove too well, knew you needed some option to fly away and recoup before going farther. he’d spent all of deployment thinking about you, tugging his cock in shared showers and metal-framed cots. simon cleaned off his fingers one by one, savoring the metallic taste as he fixed the mess you made. he’d order a new couch tomorrow, something that could fit more than two, five being ideal. he’d fuck you on his cock tomorrow, once you’d knocked all of those thoughts around your head enough to pass out in his arms. but for now, he’d settle for the pink stain on his chin and your taste on his lips.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod 141 #ghost call of duty #tornadothoughts #simon riley smut #ghost imagine #ghost smut #ghost riley #dark!simon riley #mean!simon riley #ghost headcanons #simon riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x f reader

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