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SAW YOUR END. void stiles

description. it's hard not to give into the Nogitsune. he does have the face of your favorite person, after all
includes. DARK CONTENT 18+, SMUT 18+, SLIGHT DUBCON (r wants it but for safe measures), fem! reader, impact play, choking, degradation, stiles is possessed, forced impregnation, baby trapping (kinda), snowballing, reader is secretly in luv with stiles, implied that stiles is present, some angst, title from 'cherry waves' by deftones
wc: 4.5k+
→ kinktober masterlist

He’s more intimidating up close than you would’ve thought.
You’ve been telling yourself that if faced with the shell of your best friend, you could handle yourself. The Nogitsune doesn’t fight. He plots, plans, weakens you with words alone. And you thought this was something you could control. No amount of taunts or insults or manipulation could catch you off guard.
But you somehow forgot that while he would slowly weaken your resolve, he would be wearing the face and body and voice of your best friend. You hadn’t considered that this would make you weak in and of itself, heart already thudding loudly behind your chest when you saw those amber eyes, mouth dry when he spoke your name, hands shaking with the desire to meet him in the middle when he reached out for you.
You find yourself to be more fragile than you thought, lip quivering and eyes welling up when his gaze hardens instead of softens. Your entire body trembling when he starts his slow torture, words perfectly chosen to hit the spots of you that will be most affected.
He’s unpredictable, possibly completely predictable if you’d been thinking with the parts of you that excelled in reason instead of the parts that excelled in emotion.
But his unpredictable nature leaks into his actions, his desires, as his taunts turn from ones to break you down to ones that are designed to have you as putty in his hands. Promises to give you your deepest desires, ones you were previously sure that no one other than yourself and your diary knew. Claims that he could fulfill your wishes if you would just give in.
It all sounds too good to be true, too simple and sweet and perfect. But again, rationale isn’t your strong suit at this point, so you’re standing before him, chest pressed to his, sooner than you realize it.
Heads tilted, lips closing in on the others, tips of noses brushing until they poke at the others cheek as lips finally press together.
Chapped pillows against moisturized, teeth clacking and spit swapping. It’s easy for you to forget that this is a trick, that this is all an elaborate scheme, while he kisses you like he wants it.
The Nogitsune kisses you as if he’s trying to actually devour you. He sucks your saliva up as it pools between your mouths, he licks around your mouth and tongues at your bones, his hands claw at your body to pull you tighter and closer to him until you can feel the muscle tone of Stiles’ body.
The grip he has on your waist –– slightly conservative as he almost refuses to venture down to your lower back –– has you stumbling, leaving your hands with nowhere else to go other than Stiles’ shirt.
Stiles has worn this shirt many times before, the cotton relaxed around his muscles. But in the short time that the Nogitsune has been present in it, it’s become distressed, tiny tears in both of the shoulders, the color a little dull from what you can tell.
The tears in the fabric have your hands pressing against Stiles’ bare skin while they fumble along the material. You flinch at the first press, surprised at just how chilled his skin is.
In comparison, you feel like you’re on fire.
Your body burns where he touches you, yet the parts his form doesn’t reach is unbearably cold, similar to his own body. You need him everywhere and nowhere all at once. You want what he can give you and resent the idea simultaneously.
Two wars raging in your mind, knocking around your head until you have a pressure and a fog that demands your attention.
Instead, you focus on reality.
You focus on the bulge that presses against denim to reach you. You focus on the thigh coming between yours. You focus on the damp feeling in your shorts, pressed warmly against your cunt.
Stiles’ thigh presses against your center and you sigh contentedly, eyebrows relaxing from their cinched position as you subtly start to submit in the Nogitsune’s hold. He breathes in when you breathe out, taking in every breath that you let out like you’re feeding them to him. He groans when you groan, echoing you.
You’re lost in his movements, trying to decipher why he does what he does while also trying to enjoy the feeling, creating too much for your head to handle, and suddenly –– without realizing it –– you’re walking backwards, legs bumping into your bed, knees bending and body falling back to thud against the mattress.
The Nogitsune doesn’t follow you. Instead, he stands at the edge, looking down at you. His eyes are dark and empty as they stare at your body from head to toe. Suddenly, you’re self conscious about his opinion, your tiny brain convincing you that the opinion of the Nogitsune correlates to that of Stiles. You shrink in on yourself, legs glued together at the knee, drawing up to your chest as you attempt to hide.
The Nogitsune isn’t having it.
He tuts, the bed dipping at the end under his weight as he kneels. Two rough and large hands find your bare knees and you shiver, both thankful and regretful that you’d decided on your smallest pair of shorts for the night as you’d previously been completely unaware and unable to guess that your night would take a turn like this.
“Don’t hide from me.” It’s an order, one you wouldn’t dream of disobeying, fear of what would happen if you did preventing you from doing so. Either way, he’s spreading your legs open himself as he says it until they’re wide enough to welcome him in.
He takes your forced spread as an invitation from you, shuffling forward until he’s completely situated between your legs. The Nogitsune’s hands press into the pillow beneath you, strong forearms belonging to Stiles caging you in. He stares down at you, analyzing your reaction as he slots one thigh between both of yours, the other resting on the outside of your left leg.
“Pretty little thing like you,” he says, head tilting as his analyzing gaze shifts to one that resembles amazement. Wonder, even.
“Innocent. An angel. Would never hurt a fly.” He’s spitting the words out now as if he doesn’t believe them.
His eyes narrow, glazing over as if he’s not paying attention to you anymore, and then he blinks and you’re the main focus once more. “That’s what he’s telling me. He’s trying to get out, you know. Trying to convince me to stop. He’s begging.” He takes a second, eyes calculating as he watches you for a reaction.
You think you don’t give him one, but there’s one hidden in the minute shifts of your features.
“But you don’t want that, do you?” He comes to a conclusion. “You don’t want me to stop. If you did, you wouldn’t be humping my leg like a bitch in heat.” And you are, your hips having a mind of their own as they push and pull against the material on his legs.
You hadn’t even noticed it was happening, too busy taking in his words as if they’re a form of hypnosis. Maybe they were, because it’s not until he points out your mindless hip movements that you’re fully aware of them, hands clutching at the Nogitsune’s sides as you start to pleasure yourself.
”Want me to please you?” His voice is sickly sweet, a teasing pout on his lips, his eyes faux soft and his thick eyebrows lifted. You know he’s mocking you, it’s evident in his voice and face. But you’re already submitting, wanting just that, and telling him with a sincere nod. “Yeah?” He shouldn’t sound as hot as he does, and you shouldn’t be as horny as you are. But at this point, you’re pushing aside nearly all of your morals, deciding instead to completely give in.
“Yes. Please, Void.”
His face twists into one of surprise at the nickname. “Is that what you all call me? ‘Void’.” You stop, fearing you’d angered the usually cool headed Nogitsune. Until he smiles, slight but enough to be seen, and his hands slide down to your cunt.
“Is that what you’ll call me when I bring you to completion?”
Another nod from you, your hips starting to squirm with impatience. You’re not above begging, as you’ve proven time and time again tonight, but there’s no need.
Void slides his hand down to the waistband of your shorts, separating the elastic from your skin enough to slide his hand beneath the thin layer.
You’re not wearing any panties, something about minimal layers being good for vaginal health. In reality, few layers is best for easy access, proven with the way Void easily slides two fingers through your slit, pushing your lips apart to let you feel the cool air against your center.
Goosebumps raise along your skin, your bedroom suddenly colder than it was before.
“So fucking wet.” His words are nothing but an observation, he’s quite frankly pointing out the obvious. There’s no hidden meanings or underlying intentions woven between the syllables. It’s straightforward.
And that’s probably why you’re so embarrassed about it.
You try to close your legs, shy away from Void, but of course he doesn’t let you.
He uses his free hand to push your knees apart, holding one of them down while his occupied hand flexes as he slides his two fingers down to tease your entrance.
“You can’t hide from me, sweet thing. You know that, don’t you?” This is full of a double meaning. You feel the weight of the words as you start to surrender even more, body weighted into the mattress while Void slides Stiles’ middle finger into your fluttering walls.
There’s barely any reaction, not much of a stretch nor enough stimulation to give you much. So Void adds a second, pushing your walls apart while he inserts.
You hiss, hands instinctively going down to wrap around Void’s wrist. He doesn’t swat your hands away. He lets you wrap your fingers around his wrist, and his eyebrows raise as he waits for you to make a move.
You don’t.
Your hand limply sits curled around a slender wrist, not tight enough to really do anything at all.
Void continues his slow torture, setting a pace for his fingers that leaves so much to the imagination.
What would it be like faster? Could you hear the squelch that way? Do you want it faster? Since that would inevitably bring you to the end at a speed that would easily have you unfulfilled and desiring more.
There’s not much room to think more, however, when Void starts lowering himself, eyes trained on yours while his head steadily moves down.
When he’s above your navel, he presses a kiss right below it, and then his other hand digs into the elastic of your shorts to pull them down. You’re left bare, open, save for Void’s fingers momentarily filling you up.
“Do you taste as good as you look? Hm?” he asks you, voice low and teasing. Completely unaware of the answer, you choose to not answer at all. But Void is determined, pulling his fingers out of you and floating them over to your mouth.
Your lips part easily, without any verbal prompting from him. He slips the digits in, and lets you suck, dark eyes trained on your mouth while you clean the pale skin.
His eyebrows raise to prompt you to answer his question.
“Why don’t you see for yourself?” It’s snarky, but spoken like you’ve said the sweetest, most innocent thing in the world, words almost dainty as they saunter out in a single file line from your lips.
He hums, eyes squinting as his lips raise in something that looks like admiration. “Got a mouth on you.”
And then his hands are holding your thighs open as he slots his face between your legs.
The first lick is slow, his tongue flat as he confidently traces it from just above your asshole to just above your clit.
You gasp, not expecting that wide of a trail, and then you melt.
Void’s fingers presses into your thighs as he situates them over his shoulders, giving him the perfect position to devour.
Which, he does.
You don’t know how you expected a dark spirit with thousands of years of age over you to give head, but any expectation you would have had wouldn’t have been nearly as good as it is.
None of the previous ‘best head you’ve ever had’ exists in this room. In this space. In this moment. No conscious thoughts about the possible repercussions you’ll face from finally having Stiles’ head between your thighs, but in the most unconventional way. Nothing exists outside of Stiles’ mouth on your cunt, Void driving his actions as pleasure that knocks the breath out of you is introduced to your system.
Your eyes stick to the ceiling, or they close, fear that if you look down you’ll either cum too fast and cease the best moment of your life, or you’ll be wracked with guilt when poised with Stiles’ eyes peering up at you.
But of course, Void won’t let you off that easily.
His command to look at him is so strong that you don’t even consider disobeying it. Instead, you stare down at him, eyes finding his like opposite ends of a magnet. You prepare for that guilt to make you physically sick. You prepare to get uncomfortably turned off and recoil in on yourself instead of spreading your legs wider for Void.
It doesn’t come.
Instead, you feel weirdly comforted, back arching further and your hand confidently coming down to thread through Stiles’ waves, the dark hair beginning to stick to his forehead with the physical exertion.
Void pulls Stiles’ lips from your center, rosy-pink glistening before he licks them clean. You notice Stiles’ cheeks are turning a similar color and it’s then that something switches in your head.
Suddenly, you see Stiles instead of the Nogitsune. It doesn’t help when you’re sent a smile that feels soft and familiar.
You’re pushed out of your daze by the grate of his voice.
“I bet you’re pretending I’m him, aren’t you?”
He licks up your cunt once more, another long stripe that collects your pooled arousal just before he sucks at your clit.
“Wanna scream his name while I make you cum? Hm?” It’s wrong, but you do.
You nod, the movement small and shy as you wiggle your hips to demand attention. He gives in, pressing his lips back to your sensitive nerve endings. You start to chase your orgasm, grinding your hips against Void’s face as you begin to imagine it’s Stiles between your legs instead. It’s easy to do, especially when his face is shoved in your pussy.
Stiles’ name falls from your lips with a stutter at first, unsure from your tongue as you test it. Void shakes his head. “Say it like you mean it,” he tells you before diving back in.
He bares his teeth and nips on the bud, giving way for the name of the face he wears to push from your chest with more assurance this time.
It’s the same name you moan when Void pushes you over the edge with his mouth alone.
With the post orgasm haze over your mind, bleeding into your body, it’s easier for you to see Stiles more than the Nogitsune.
His face relaxed, the light in your room brightening his dark eyes. His lips pink and swollen and glistening, spreading into a satisfied smile as your breathing starts to level out.
Logic attempts to remind you that no matter how similar they look, this isn’t Stiles. But when Void softens his eyes, his hands shake a little at your side, and his smile lacks cockiness, it’s easier than it should be for you to forget. It’s easy for you to look past the pale skin and purple under eyes and messier-than-it-should-be hair and instead see your best friend. The guy you’ve been pining after since middle school.
“You’re prettier than you know.” Void presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh, close to the junction of your pelvis and limb. The action shoves you back to reality, putting you in that post-orgasmic euphoric haze.
“Too pretty for him.” Another kiss. “Should keep you close to me, shouldn’t I?”
Maybe there’s something else affecting you other than your post-orgasm haze, because the thought starts to sound not so bad. You try to nod, but your body is heavy. You’re tired, but your body wants more.
Shamelessly, you start to grind, a pathetic attempt of receiving friction from perhaps the air, since that’s the only thing you’re getting. You feel drunk, confused, and incredibly horny.
A frustrated groan falls from your lips, Void replying in a chuckle.
“What? You want more?”
You muster your strength to nod, and you can’t see it, but you look like the prettiest fucked out thing.
Hair messy atop your head, lips swollen and slick and pouty, eyes glazed over and it looks like you’ll cry if Void turns down your advances. He briefly considers doing so, just to fuck with you, see what you’re like at your weakest, but he figures there’s another way to get you to that point.
Void’s hand slides up your torso, palm wide and calluses rough against your soft body. He rises as he does so, hand cupping your jaw, face hovering over yours as he brings your attention solely to him. You blink dumbly, waiting for his next move.
“You know I’m gonna need something from you, too, baby, right? And not just those pretty sounds you make when you cum.” You stare at him, feeling like it’s all you've been doing this entire encounter. But there are no words, nothing for you to say to him.
You lick your lips and it takes longer than it should for a response to form in your head, each word appearing one at a time. “What … do you need?”
He kisses the side of your neck and then his hand slides down to rest over the area. You stay still, breath sitting in your chest, unmoving.
He sucks in a breath himself, as if he’s taunting you with how relaxed and unphased he is. Suddenly, you begin to feel like trapped prey.
“I need to hurt you, honey.” He tilts his head, eyes scanning over your body, calculating. “Not a lot, just enough to feed myself.” His grip on your throat seems to get tighter, more secure. “That’s okay, right?”
You’re dumb. So fucking dumb and clueless and desperate.
Because you’re nodding, hand pathetically circling Stiles’ wrist when pressure is applied to the sides of your throat.
“That’s a good girl.” He kisses your forehead, and then your cheek is struck.
You gasp, the sound is an instinct from your body. It forces you to breathe, and the airflow combined with the sting from your cheek feels good. You wonder if they’ll be a mark tomorrow, and the thought excites you instead of worries you.
You don’t consider the lie you’ll have to tell Scott or Lydia. You don’t think about how you’ll potentially feel looking in the mirror in the morning. All you think about is how you want Void to do it again.
Especially when he looks like this while he does it: Veins along his arms and neck turning black as he seemingly takes the pain, not away like Scott can, but as Void takes your pain he adds to it. Multiplies it, even.
It’s not filled with gloom, nor despair, but there’s something heavy that feels vaguely uncomfortable from the lack of attention, like an itch that needs to be scratched.
You need more.
Void seems to sense this.
“On all fours,” he instructs you, hand leaving your neck to allow you to do as told.
There’s the sound of shuffling, not just from you. Metal against metal, fabric against fabric. More shuffling, the added weight against the bed is gone, and then hands are pulling you back towards the edge.
There’s barely any wait, any anticipation, before your walls are forcibly stretched.
You wish you could see it, maybe if you were doing it in missionary, but beggars truly can’t be choosers and you’re perfectly fine with taking what you can get.
Void is at least a few inches deep before you consider the option of protection. You bring it up to him, glancing over your shoulder and your voice wobbling as you say it.
Void tuts as if he’s disappointed, shaking his head.
“You don’t want his babies?” He speaks through a pout, the epitome of condescending. “Don’t want to be the whore with her crush’s seed festering in her womb? ‘Cause I think you do.”
His hand presses flat against the middle of your back, pressing you down into the mattress, leaving you with your ass up.
Void bottoms out completely, a hiss sounding through your teeth as you try to adjust as quickly as you can.
He doesn’t give you much grace, instantly setting a pace that has you gasping, pornographic sounds slipping from between your lips. It’s nearly exactly as you’d imagined it, loud with the squelches of you and Void combining in the purest way possible. But it’s dirty, fast and lacking any neatness or grace.
He fucks you just as you expected from him: Mercilessly, with little to no concern for how you feel.
As if to emphasize this, he spanks you, the clap loud to the point where it seems fake. But the sting left behind on your left ass cheek begs to differ.
It’s not long before his thrusts become erratic, most likely from the build up of the entire ordeal. A lack of rhythm becomes present as he fucks you harder, with more intention behind each aggressive snap of his hips into yours. You’re sent further and further into the mattress as he does so, your lips pressing against your definitely sodden sheets. You attempt to maneuver your head to where he can hear you, a plea for him to cum anywhere but inside of you desperately climbing up your throat.
But it gets stuck behind your mouth. Void’s hand presses into the back of your head, forcing your face into the sheets, and just when you feel as if you can’t breathe, his hand wraps around your throat and he pulls you up, your back against his chest.
His chin sits on your shoulder, his lips brush your earlobe as he speaks.
“Gonna cum in you, yeah? Fill you with little Nogitsune babies. Be a lot better than the little weaklings he would give you. Bet you would look so pretty carrying my kids. Tits all swollen,” his free hand circles around your waist at this point, climbing up to pinch an already sensitive nipple between his pointer and thumb.
You hiss, attempting to recoil away from the clamp. There’s nowhere for you to go, completely closed in by Void in all places. He’s still in you, rock hard and hot and fucking up into your walls with a depth that stings, his tip not too far from your cervix. His body is around you, arms circled around you, hands at your neck and stomach, pressing you back against him.
You couldn’t escape even if you wanted to. And with another orgasm brewing low in your belly, you want the opposite. It’s hard to admit, and it’s not like you will ever admit it, but you have the sudden craving for Void to fill you up.
You whine, pretending to be disinterested by the thought he puts in your head. But Void continues speaking, voice heavy and a little slurred as he continues to take the pain he’s inducing.
“Feel so good around me. It’s like this is how it was supposed to be. You and him. Maybe you two were made for each other.” He chuckles cruelly, almost taunting you with the idea. You have to bite back a sob because that sounds so nice, but it seems impossible after this.
You can’t imagine Stiles ever wanting to be with you after this.
“He wants that, too, you know. But ‘s not gonna happen when I’m here.” He kisses your cheek, and it would be romantic in any other situation.
You can’t even consider the idea of romance when Void’s hand squeezes at your throat and his voice drops a few octaves as he tells you: “You’re mine.”
His hand slides from your tit to between your thighs, two fingers circling your clit rapidly, meant to send you over the edge. You do so a few moments later, satisfied that he hadn't made you beg while your body completely relaxes until you let out a sound that is practically inhuman.
It’s a mix between a growl and a moan and a sob. You sound like a wounded animal. And while Void cums in you, you feel like one too.
He lets you go, allowing you to collapse face first into your bed.
Both of you are still for a moment, Void's heavy body atop of yours as you both lay limply on your mattress. Of course, he moves first, separating from you and letting you lay there in silence.
There’s no tranquility, no comfort, just thick silence.
You’re spent, fucked out as you attempt to catch your breath.
It’s almost impossible to do so when Void lifts your hips a little and then presses his tongue flat against your entrance. You gasp, experiencing too much too soon, and again attempt to thrash away. He holds you still, strong hands holding you up as his lips pucker around your hole. He sucks, and it becomes clear to you that he’s retrieving his own cum from inside of you.
When he’s finished, he flips you over and goes to your mouth, and it’s shameful that you still don’t have to be asked to open. You do it automatically, lips parting as Void presses his to yours. The swap is disgusting, both in taste and texture, but you lose yourself in the messiness of the kiss.
By the time Void pulls away, there’s drool and cum from both of you sliding down your chin. He smiles at the sight, gently tapping your cheek before doing the same with a much harder slap on your abused cunt.
This time, you don’t recoil, or writhe away, or even make a sound. You’re completely submissive, the only indicator of the pain being the way your stomach flexes.
Void grins, satisfied with how he’s made you. You expect more from him. You’re expecting him to tug his dick back up, so you’re sat watching him dumbly as he mechanically redresses.
You don’t move, too tired to do so, just blinking languidly while pale skin is recovered.
Just before Void leaves, he tells you: “I’m not done with you.”
And it’s both a threat and a promise. One you hope he keeps.
Gangsta’s Paradise (Michael Gray x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON BORDERLINE NON-CON, blackmail, loss of virginity, (for the sake of this fic let’s pretend that Finn Cole is taller than what he is okay)
! DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !
➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
summary: an agreement with the Peaky Blinders is almost a done deal…until you catch the eye of Michael Gray. You’re suddenly thrust into the equation, and your father must decide between losing everything or losing you.
Weiterlesen

[REQUESTS OPEN]
[3.1k] or, void understands you. he can help you. he isn’t scared of you or what you are. you just have to let him set you free. (smut)
.
“Look at you,” he cooed softly, his hands running over your exposed skin with a feather-like touch. “So pretty when you listen, little dove.”
“Please,” you whimpered out, your voice was breathy and soft and he loved it. He loved the way your glossy eyes stared up at him, the way your cheeks were flushed and your lips raw and the way your whole body responded to him.
“Good girl using her manners now, hm?” he murmured with an amused huff as his fingers trailed over the plain of your stomach, smirking a little when your body twitched under his touch. “What would they say if they saw you right now?”
“I—” you gasped when you felt his hand grip your thigh, keeping your legs open and spread just for him.
“They’re scared of you,” he told her as his eyes caught hers. His stare was intense and deep and made her squirm beneath him. “They don’t understand you and they never will, little dove. They don’t understand people like you and me.”
And despite your better judgement, the snide remark slipped past your lips. “And you do?”
Weiterlesen
Title: Nursle.
Pairing: Yandere!Gojo Satoru x Reader (JJK).
Word Count: 3.4k.
TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Mentions of Pregnancy, Implied Stalking, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Lactation, Slight Breeding Kinks, Daddy Kinks, Mentions of Abusive Relationships, and Age Gaps (Gojo is 20, Reader is 35+).
[Part Two] [Part Three]

A few days into the new school year, you decided that Gojo Satoru could not be Fushiguro Megumi’s primary guardian, despite what the paperwork filed by the former claimed. Honestly, the fact that Megumi’s name had been misspelled in every conceivable way across the aforementioned paperwork should’ve been enough to make that clear, but after a decade of teaching, you’d learned to pick up on the smaller signs; a certain discomfort that passed through Megumi's expression whenever you asked about his homelife, the lapse before a half-hearted answer whenever you posed a question to Satoru as to Megumi's preferences. It didn’t necessarily mean anything bad was going on, just that something was going on - something you couldn’t ignore, not completely.
Four weeks into the new school year, you decided that Fushiguro Megumi did not like Gojo Satoru. All your students were at the age where they were suddenly eager to distance themselves from any adult they could call an authority, but Megumi was the only one still in your classroom hours after the school day ended, the only one who stayed for as long as you could afford to let him. Sometimes, Satoru would make an appearance, loiter outside of your classroom or pass time with the best attempts at small talk someone nearly two decades your junior could make, but Megumi made a habit of ignoring him and try as you might, you'd never had the heart to be very strict with your students. The only days he didn’t stay to help you (as much as a nine year old could help anyone do anything) were the days when his sister was free to pick him up and, much to your relief, Satoru was nowhere to be found.
Two months into the new school year, you found yourself on the doorstep of Gojo Satoru’s listed address which, notably, was not the dingy flat you’d dropped off Megumi in front of whenever he stayed too late to justify letting him walk home alone. Instead, you gaped openly at the skyscraper in front of you, as tall as the eye could see and pouring out the kind of people you couldn’t help but want to get away from. You’d called ahead, let Satoru know you’d be making a home visit to discuss some of your concerns about Megumi, but for as long as he’d kept you on the phone, he’d never bothered to explain why he would ask you to meet him in a place like—
“You’re early, Miss (L/n).”
You stiffened, glanced over your shoulder to find Gojo Satoru – dressed in his usual plain, black uniform and unaccompanied by the student you’d come to discuss. He greeted you with a wide grin, a lazy nod, and you returned it with a purse-lipped smile and a tightened hold on the strap of your messenger bag. “Well, I’d hate to waste your time.” You toyed with the idea of meeting his eyes, but your gaze skirted over the pitch-black lenses of his sunglasses and settled firmly on the collar of his button-up. “And you don’t have to call me that. It makes you sound like one of my students and—” A slight pause, a nervous laugh. “I think you might be a little too old to blend in.”
Satoru’s grin only widened. With only your own paranoia as warning, he strung an arm through the crook of yours, dragging you towards the entrance of his looming tower. “I think it’s got a nice ring to it, Miss.”
Something sharp pricked at the back of your throat.
In hindsight, it might’ve been easier to do this with the nine year old.
You kept your teeth grit and your smile plastered on as he led you through the lobby – all shining crystal chandeliers and glistening marble floors – and hauled you into a gold-gilded elevator, the kind that would’ve let you know you were somewhere you didn’t belong under normal circumstances. You watched in stomach-knotting, heart-stopping terror as the numbers ticked up, up, up, until the mirrored doors were sliding open and you were stepping into the living room that could’ve swallowed your shoebox of an apartment whole. Your heels (blocked, low, practical – the only pair you’d found the strength to wear since coming back from your leave) clicked against the bare tile floor as you stumbled into the remarkably open space, his furniture sparse and largely utilitarian. You spotted one of Megumi’s drawings on a low coffee table, a pile of Tsumiki’s hairbands forgotten on an otherwise empty bookshelf, but any other signs of life were either nonexistent or exceptionally well-hidden. Any hope you had that Megumi and Satoru’s situation might’ve just been that of a young, overburdened guardian and his slow-to-warm ward evaporated immediately. Those of limited means tended not to live in penthouses that cost triple your annual salary in rent.
If Satoru noticed your growing anxiety, he didn’t seem to pay it any mind. With an exaggerated yawn, he strode past you and collapsed onto a leather couch – too pristine to have been recently visited by two hyperactive children. When you stalled near the entryway, he let his head lull to the side, his tinted glasses falling low on the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have to be shy. There’s plenty of room – not that I mind the view, if you really wanna stand.”
You took a deep breath and let it out in a long, labored exhale. He’s practically a kid, you reminded yourself. You could only be thankful you hadn’t gotten him a couple of years ago – otherwise, you’d be dealing with an actual child.
Reluctantly, you squared your shoulders and perched yourself on the far edge of the sofa. Satoru immediately closed the distance, draping his lanky arms over the back of the couch, his fingertips just barely brushing against your shoulder. You pulled your messenger bag into your lap, opening your mouth as you looked for Megumi’s file, but Satoru cut in before you could start your well-practiced monologue. “This is your first year at his school, right? I’d remember if I saw a teacher as pretty as you around campus.”
“It’s my first year back,” you corrected. “I’ve noticed Megumi very introverted for a boy his—”
“Let me guess – maternity leave?”
Your lips quirked into a tight frown. Fighting the urge to cross your arms over your stomach self-consciously, you sent him a withering look out of the corner of your eye. “I’d rather not talk about my personal life, if it’s all the same to you. Like I said, I’m not here to waste your time.”
Your tone was clipped, your voice strict, but Satoru’s only response was an airy chuckle, a careless grin. “I’m not in a rush,” he said. “But you’re probably eager to get back home to your baby girl. I know you try to spend time with her on weekends.”
This time, you didn’t try to breathe. Letting your bag fall back to your side, you moved to stand, but Satoru was quick to catch you by the wrist, to pull you back down with a single, playful jerk. Your bag fell off of your shoulder, hitting the floor and spilling open at your feet, but you didn’t reach for it. He was stronger than he looked, and you already knew everything you had to about strong young men with more power than they knew what to do with. “I’d really rather not talk about myself when Megumi is—”
“Can’t be easy, leaving her all alone like that. Did you ask your neighbor to babysit again, or was it that brat of a teenager you call up on weekends?” His hand fell to your thigh, and you immediately regretted wearing a dress, let alone one that ended well before the knee. You’d wanted this to seem causal, unintrusive, but as his fingertips bit into the plush of your thigh, you regretted not going straight to the police as soon as you noticed something strange. “Can’t be easy, not having a husband to dote on you and the little princess anymore.”
You keep your eyes on your feet, on one of the manilla folders spilling out of your bag. Megumi's name was scrawled messily across the upper right corner in red pen, because red was his favorite color and you knew he would see it every time he helped you organize paperwork for your other students. “I appreciate your concern, but we’ve managed to take care of ourselves.”
“I know.” He was close, too close. You could feel his breath, hot and humid, against the shell of your ear. “It’s just that I think I might just be able to take care of you a little better.”
“I think I should leave.” You spoke slowly, your tone flat, factual. Like you were talking to a child, or a dog, or worst of all – a man in monks' clothing, ready to worship at his own alter. “Before either of us does anything we might regret.”
Satoru let his lead lull forward, his fanged smile biting into the corner of your jaw.
You tried to bolt, but it was already too late.
It happened too quickly for you to process. One second, you were writhing in your own skin, your favorite student’s neglectful guardian pressed into your side and the next, you were on your back, splayed over the length of his couch, Satoru’s knee between your open legs and his hands on either side of your head. Your body reacted before your mind, trying to run, to resist, to get away from him, but Satoru’s hand was on your chest before you could so much as sit up, keeping you trapped underneath him without a trace of effort. “You can stop working so hard, momma.” His glasses had fallen away completely, revealing eyes as blinding as the cloudless sky and as unfeeling as raw ice. It was hard to remember why you’d ever thought a man like this could ever have anything to do with a boy as sweet as Megumi. “Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you.”
You shouldn’t have been so worried about the dress. It didn’t matter how long your skirt was, not when the cheap material fell apart so easily under his eager touch – your bra and panties discarded with just as little thought. You panicked, started to kick and shove and thrash, but his hands were already locked over your hips, keeping you pinned to the couch as he bent down and buried his face between your thighs. However young you’d thought he was, he must’ve been younger; his inexperience shining through in the overzealous way he nipped at the inside of your thighs, how hastily he laved the flat of his tongue over your slit. His pace was rough, his technique nonexistent, but you couldn’t remember the last time you had time to touch yourself, and you hadn’t slept with someone else since…
This time, when your mind went blank, you were the one willing away fractured thoughts and bitter memories. You didn’t want to acknowledge the twisted pleasure Satoru was forcing onto your body either, but it would’ve been impossible to ignore the way his teeth grazed over your clit as he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, to not hear the slick sound you just couldn’t seem to believe a part of you would make as he forced two fingers into your tight pussy. You threw your head back, clenched your eyes shut, but no amount of aversion could seem to block out his throaty laugh, to make the reverberations his deep voice sent pulsing through your cunt anything short of unbearable. “Needy little thing,” he muttered, pulling away just far enough to press a lingering kiss into the apex of your hip. “Bet he was neglecting you even before you ran off. Is that why you had to leave him? He didn’t know how to treat a pretty thing like you?”
You would’ve given anything to make him stop talking, but you didn’t have a chance to try and bargain. While his fingers pumped mercilessly into your pussy, his mouth pushed slow, wet kisses into the rounded curves of your stomach, your midriff, your chest. He noticed it before you did; saw the thin trail of thin, near-transparent fluid running down the curve of your chest before you felt the telltale soreness in your breasts, managed to draw a connection between that and the shallow, airy moan Satoru let out as he ran his tongue over your leaking nipple. He took long, agonizing seconds to lick up the spilled milk before his lips found the closest nipple and finally, he latched onto you properly.
He was worse than your newborn. It was an awful thing to think, it was a terrible thing to have to think, but it was true. He was rough, and clumsy, and noisy – groaning as he lapped and sucked, eager to swallow down anything you had to give. Drool seeped out of the corner of his mouth, whatever pain he might’ve alleviated immediately replaced as the fingertips of his free hand kneaded into your swollen tit. By the time he pulled away, he was panting, scissoring open your pussy with enough force to leave your toes curling, your thighs twitching, little involuntary whimpers slipping past your lips despite your best efforts to choke them back.
He didn’t so much earn your climax as drag it out of you, piece by fractured piece, broken moan by stuttering convulsion. Your hands shot to his head, fingers soon knotted through messy white hair, but he didn’t seem to care, didn’t seem to mind, his attention devoted entirely to spreading open your cunt and milking your chest dry even as the last of the aftershocks faded and the first pangs of overstimulation began to set in. When he did pull away from you, it was with an exaggerated smack of his lips, a teasing nudge of the heel of his palm against your clit, a cocky smirk that reminded you of the expression Megumi would sometimes draw onto his doodled stick figures as they were hit with simplistic, two-dimensional cars or torn apart by black and white wolves. That was something you’d meant to bring up during your conversation with Satoru – Megumi’s tendency towards more violent forms of creativity, how it could be an early sign of emotional unrest in children too young to properly express themselves. Now, you could only wonder why he didn’t draw Satoru more often.
You were barely conscious by the time he drew back working one arm under your back and another under the bend of your knees. You let your eyes fall shut and, by the time you found the strength to open them again, you were on your back, dark satin sheets underneath you and Satoru above, snowy hair providing a much-appreciated barrier between you and those terrible eyes. This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from meeting his prying gaze, and he welcomed your bleary stare, drinking you in for one second, then another, before dipping that much lower and slotting his lips against yours. The kiss was surprisingly gentle – all slow tenderness and delicate warmth. Your mind flitted back to dark eyes and pitch-black hair, pointed teeth and deceiving smiles and you willed yourself not to think at all.
You heard fabric shift, felt his hands curl around your thighs. With an aching sort of slowness, he pushed your knees into your chest, leaving you spread open and vulnerable below him. You felt the head of his cock press against your slick entrance, heard a raspy groan trickle past his lips as he thrust into you – bottoming out in the same stroke.
He didn’t wait for you to adjust to his size. With his face buried in the crook of your neck, he rutted into you with short, brutal thrusts; never pulling out of you entirely, never happy unless his cock was abusing the deepest pocket of your wet heat. Immediately, it was overwhelming – too much stimulation being forced onto you too quickly with too little preparation. Your hands fell to his back, your nails biting into his skin as he fucked into you with a jagged kind of desperation. His cock scraped against something soft and spongy inside of you and you cried out, arching against him. “I can’t— It hurts, Gojo, slow—”
“C’mon, baby, you can do better than that.” His voice was low, airy. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the corner of your jaw, rolled his hips and pressed himself that much deeper into you. “What’s my name? Who’s takin' care of you from now on?”
It was more an act of desperation than anything; a broken plea that you could barely recognize as your own voice. “Daddy,” you sobbed, shrinking against him. “Please, don’t cum insi—”
You were cut off by an unabashed moan, the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you. His hips pressed into yours, his thrusts growing shorter, more violent as he pumped something warm and awful into your pussy. At the same time, his thumb found your clit, pushing harsh circles into the vulnerable bundle of nerves and bringing your exhausted body to its second climax. Your vision burnt white as your cunt clenched around him, as his thrusts turned labored and languid, as collapsed against you – limp and boneless. Idly, almost lovingly, he nuzzled into the side of your neck, letting several seconds pass in silence before sighing, the pinnacle of satisfaction. Eventually, he picked himself up, resting his weight on his elbows as he cupped your face. “Pretty girl. I think the brat’s got a crush on you, too – always going on about his favorite teacher, telling me to keep my dirty hands away from you.” He laughed, shook his head. “Think he’ll be excited to have a younger sister?”
You didn’t answer, but Satoru didn’t need you to. He was already picking himself up, already pressing a kiss into the crook of your neck as he straightened his back, staring down at you with eyes that must’ve gone lifeless years ago. Eyes that, despite your best efforts to ignore their similarities, you couldn’t help but feel that you’d seen before.
“Speaking of, I think it’s about time we checked on our baby girl.”
~
Less than an hour later, you found yourself in your makeshift nursery; the corner of your bedroom occupied by a crib and a few shelves of miscellaneous supplies. You sat on the foot of your bed as Satoru held your daughter in his arms, rocking her as she sniffled and threatened to cry. You’d taken a taxi back to your apartment – called up and paid for by Satoru, of course. He’d given the driver your address before you so could so much as process where he was taking you, something you were currently choosing to ignore.
“She looks just like him.” His tone was light, his smile soft. He gestured to your daughter’s curly tufts of dark hair, her brown eyes – both only a shade away from black. “It’ll get worse as she grows up. He was always like that – couldn’t stand to let anyone else be the center of attention.”
You felt sick. Black spots still danced in the corners of your vision, and it took all your strength just to choke something coherent out. “He’ll never meet her. I’d die before I ever let him put his hands on my daughter.”
“I know, baby, I know.” He flashed you a grin, then turned back to your daughter. “I’m gonna keep both of you safe, be such a good daddy to both my pretty girls.” He pulled her that much closer to him, pressing a ginger kiss into her forehead. “You know, you really gotta open up more. I tried as hard as I could, but I don’t think I ever managed to catch her name.”
That made sense. You tended not to use it, when you could help it, when you were strong enough not to think about the man who’d given it to her – the man who’d tried to take yours, before you’d gotten away from him and and his monsters. You weren’t feeling very strong right now, though.
“Himari,” you mumbled, the sound of it alone still enough to steal the air out of your lungs, to leave the taste of blood heavy on your tongue.
“Geto Himari.”
“WELL, WE SHOULD PROBABLY FUCK, RIGHT?”

♡ — SUMMARY; you & gojo are both sealed away in the prison realm. with nothing else to do, you might as well start fucking, right?
♡ — CONTENT; 18+ ONLY // MDNI — fem! reader, unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (fem receiving), missionary, degrading nickname, best friends to friends with benefits, bickering, slightly jealous gojo, you & gojo are both the strongest sorcerers in the world.
♡ — A/N; based on this drabble (: I love this man sm, I’d do his taxes for him btw // also, pls don’t repost my gif!
♡ — WC; 3k




“This is all your fault, Satoru.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Okay, so I was distracted,” Gojo kicked up his feet, placing his black boots across a pile of dusty skeleton heads as if he was at home, relaxing on his plush couch, and not trapped inside of the prison realm. “If I remember correctly – and I do remember correctly because it happened thirty seconds ago – you were distracted too. Who knew that seeing your dead classmate would throw you off?”
“Throw me off?” You frowned, moving around a pile of bones to sit down somewhat comfortably. “You nearly passed out. I saw it with my own eyes, Satoru.”
“Oh,” Giving a small chuckle, Gojo tilted his head a bit as he smirked. “So you could see that, but you couldn’t see the weird guy with the two short ponytails almost obliterate you?”
“I don’t remember that. Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“See this?” Gojo lifted a skull pressing against his right leg, and he dangled it in front of you. “This would’ve been you if it wasn’t for me.”
“You dumbass,” you paused, rolling your eyes, “because of you, we’re both gonna end up exactly like that skeleton. You do realize we’re trapped in here, right? No way out?”
“Calm down. Someone will save us. I have faith, don’t you?”
“Hell no,” a small sigh fell from between your lips, “and you know what? I hope we don’t get saved. The fact that we let ourselves get captured like this is embarrassing. I absolutely cannot leave this stupid box and look another sorcerer in the eye after this. I’d rather die.”
“You’re pretty dramatic,” Gojo sighed. “I hear you, though. We really screwed this up. We should’ve picked different careers. I could’ve been a really nice basketball coach.”
“I would’ve been a coffee shop owner.” Distracted by your own what-if daydreams, you mistakenly leaned back on a pile of skeletons, nearly jumping out of your skin once you remembered that you were indeed lying on a pile of skeletons. “Shit! I gotta get outta here, I can’t do this.”
“Just calm down, it isn’t so bad.” As Gojo adjusted himself, he grunted. “Remember when you dressed up as a skeleton for Halloween? You manifested this.”
“I should’ve never taught you that word,” frowning, you stood up, glancing around the dark inner workings of the prison realm. “How can you relax in a place like this? Aren’t you uncomfortable? Or at least a little bit scared?”
“Hmm, no.” Gojo grinned.
“I shouldn’t have asked. You’re too stupid to know when to be scared.”
“Ouch,” Gojo said dramatically, a hint of amusement coating his words. “Ya know, I’m glad you’re not a coffee shop owner. You’d probably toss random shit in someone’s coffee, sweetheart.”
“Oh my god, please shut up.”
“You shut up,” Gojo retorted childishly.
Deep breathing exercises had certainly come in handy during moments such as this one.
Although years upon years had passed since you and Gojo were kids, running around in Halloween costumes and splitting popsicles, it felt as if no time had passed at all whenever you two held a conversation.
Even so, how exactly did it come to this?
Gojo never truly had an ordinary childhood — you were the only normal thing in his life at the time — but you grew up rather unextraordinary.
A normal girl, one who went to school and did her classwork before sneaking off to a secluded lake in the late afternoons with Gojo, skipping rocks and eating sandwiches together.
It was a beautifully plain life. One that was ripped away from you by curses and sorcery.
The only silver lining that truly existed was your old classmates; the dear friends you made once you attended Jujutsu High all those years ago, and in particular, a dark-haired, mellow guy.
“Must’ve been really hard for you,” Gojo suddenly mumbled, “seeing Suguru again. You two had gotten pretty close, right? Up until he . . . left?”
“What’s up with the mumbling? Now isn’t the time for you to get jealous.”
“I’m not,” Gojo mumbled once again, turning his head away from you. “It’s not like that was the real Suguru anyway. Our Suguru is gone for good.”
“Yeah.” The sad tone of your voice is what grabbed Gojo’s attention. One thing that was stronger than his jealousy over you and Geto’s old fondness for one another was his deep concern for you.
“Hey, c’mere,” Gojo smiled softly, facing you once again.
“Huh?” You raised your eyebrows.
“I said come here.”
Hesitantly, you walked over to where Gojo was stretched out among the bones, sitting down on the ground beside him as best as you could with all the skeletons around. As you looked at him, it was rather impossible to understand how he could relax so comfortably.
“Come closer,” he held his arm out, waving you over.
“Why? What for?”
“‘Cause I wanna hold you, so just come here.” Suddenly, Gojo leaned up a bit, grabbing ahold of your wrist before pulling you on top of him.
With his other hand, he gripped the back of your thigh, moving your leg over his hips as he leaned back. He sighed with contentment once you were fully on top of him. Releasing your wrist, the white-haired man touched the side of your face, slowly guiding your head to his chest. “See? Isn’t this better than laying on those skeletons?”
“I guess so,” you mumbled against his chest.
“Why are you so tense?” Gojo guided his hand across one of your shoulders, and he started to rub it.
“Hard to relax when you’re trapped in the prison realm,” you paused. “Not to mention I’m literally laying on top of you.”
“So? We hug and stuff all the time.”
“This is more than hugging, and we’ve barely done that,” you smiled softly. “Kinda nice, though. You’re pretty warm.”
“You’re pretty warm too. And really soft.” With his other hand — the one that never left your thigh — Gojo slowly stroked you, gliding his hand up and down, but not daring to touch your ass just yet.
But he wanted to. Desperately.
Suddenly, Gojo shifted his body, squirming just a bit.
“You okay?” You questioned, lifting your head off of his chest to look at his blindfolded face. “Want me to get off?”
“No, not at all, everything’s fine,” Gojo lied.
Truth be told, his dick was starting to harden in his pants, and he could barely stand it.
“Oh, okay,” laying your head back down on Gojo’s chest, you spoke once again. “Satoru? What are we supposed to do until someone saves us? Just sit here and wait?”
“No, that’s a bad idea,” Gojo said.
“Then what should we do?”
Before he answered, Gojo placed his finger underneath his blindfold, pulling at it playfully.
“Well, we should probably fuck, right?”
It took a moment for Gojo’s sinful words to fully sink in. Upon realizing that you had heard him correctly, your head snapped up, your eyes widening with utter shock.
“What?”
“You heard me, sweetheart,” Gojo smirked. “No need to make such a big deal out of it. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Yes, but . . .” You paused, darting your eyes across the vast, skeleton-filled, dark space. “Here? Of all places?”
Gojo shifted once again. He gripped his pants, but he truthfully wanted to grip his cock instead.
“I’d fuck you anywhere,” Gojo said lowly. “I just think it’s time we finally fuck each other, don’t you?”
Suddenly, his large hand gripped the back of your head, and your best friend shoved his lips against yours.
“Hmm,” Gojo moaned softly, kissing you passionately with those sweet, feathery lips of his. Kissing you — finally, after so many years of dreaming about it — was a magical experience. Before, he never believed in soulmates or seeing fireworks when kissing someone — until now.
“Shit, you’re so . . .” His words trailed off as he pulled away, his warm breath patting against your pretty face.
“Satoru,” you mumbled against his lips, “I didn’t know you thought of me this way. I didn’t think that I’d be someone you’d wanna sleep with.”
“Really? Why’s that?” As Gojo spoke, he took off his blindfold, staring at you — then your lips — with those vibrant, ocean-blue eyes of his.
“We’ve barely even hugged,” when you frowned, just a little bit, Gojo wanted to kiss your pouty lips over and over again until his mouth was sore.
God, he wanted you in ways he couldn’t even begin to vocalize.
But he’d certainly try.
“And I thought I was being obvious this entire time,” Gojo paused. “Whenever we would fight together, side by side, do you know how hard it was to concentrate? All I could ever focus on in the middle of battle was trying not to let myself get distracted by you. Hearing you grunt and groan, just watching the way you’d move. I’ve always wanted to take you home with me once the fight ended, toss you on my bed, and find out all the noises you can make; see how loud you can get. I just gotta hear you moan for me, baby. I have to.”
Running his thumb over your soft mouth, he slightly pulled down on your bottom lip, all before he leaned in again, moving his thumb away and replacing it with his lips.
This time, when he kissed you, he didn’t hold back. That sweet tongue of his entered your mouth as if it was on a mission, and he swirled his tongue around yours, enjoying every little surprised noise you made just as much as he enjoyed tasting your delicious mouth. He’d kiss you forever if he could.
A small part of him hoped that the two of you would never get released, and he could spend eternity with his tongue sloppily flicking against yours.
A pair of large hands suddenly gripped your ass. When you gasped, pulling away from Gojo’s lips, he smiled. You were just too cute.
Who knew that the prison realm would actually turn out to be heaven?
“You’re so tense,” Gojo said with a hint of a teasing tone. “Has no one ever touched you like this before?”
“People have — I mean, I’ve done stuff before, it’s just . . .”
When you failed to finish your sentence, Gojo took it upon himself to finish it for you.
“It’s just that no one’s ever made you feel good before,” his sly grin only grew. “Right?”
“I-” you stammered, “that’s none of your business.”
“Lay down.”
“Why?” You asked, your curiosity at its peak.
“I wanna eat you out, sweet girl. Now lay down.” Gojo’s hands moved from your ass to your hips, and he lifted you off of his lap and laid you down next to him.
He then flipped over on top of you, giving you another kiss — a little, quick one — before he started to impatiently unbutton your pants.
“What kinda best friend would I be if I just let you keep living your life without having had a proper orgasm?” He said, shrugging off your bottoms. “Told you not to waste any time with all those shitty guys. You should’ve been with me from the start.”
“Yeah, yeah,” rolling your eyes, you sat up on your elbows, looking down at the sorcerer between your thighs, who slowly pulled down your underwear and held your legs open. “You’re not the first guy who has said a bunch of hot things to me, but then failed to deliver-”
You were interrupted by your own unexpected gasp, as it was elicited from your throat thanks to Gojo’s skillful tongue, which had swiped right across your clit.
He was such a tease; that tongue of his could work wonders. And it did. He flicked at your clit rapidly, and during every quick stroke, his eyes never glanced away from your face.
You started to squirm, but he held onto your thighs, convinced that absolutely nothing in this world could make him want to stop eating your pussy. Not when it tasted so undeniably good.
“Had no idea this pretty pussy was so damn delicious,” he pulled away, mumbling against your wet folds. “Should’ve done this a long time ago, baby.”
When he dived back into your pussy, he licked and sucked, sucked and licked. Good god, you tasted amazing. So, so amazing. He couldn’t help but moan as he made a mess of your pussy; your juices and his spit decorating his face.
“Oh my god, Satoru,” you moaned, “I’m close-”
Once again, your words were cut off by your own uncontrollable moans. That sweet orgasm was brewing right in the pit of your stomach.
You expected him to pull away once you warned him about your approaching orgasm, but he didn’t. Instead, he pressed his calloused fingertips into your plush thighs even harder, and he ate your pussy as messily as possible. Licked at it more rapidly. Sucked on your clit more hungrily.
“Cum in my mouth,” he moaned out in between licks. “Don’t hold back; I want it all. Cum in my mouth right now.”
“Gojo!” You called out. Last warning.
Instead of pulling away, he reached forward, grabbing ahold of your soft tits. With his fingers, he flicked at your hard nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt.
And with that, you arched your back off of the hard ground, moaning his name over and over again like a sinner praying for forgiveness.
Gojo lapped up your juices as if he was dying of thirst. He’ll be damned if he missed even a single drop of it.
“Damn it,” he said as he detached his lips from your swollen clit. “I wanna eat you out over and over again, but I gotta fuck you. I just gotta know what it’s like to be inside of you.”
Gojo sat up on his knees. He unbuttoned his pants. When he pulled them down, along with his boxers, his hard dick flung out.
You couldn’t help but stare at the mesmerizing large dick. The tip of it was red and swollen, precum dripping from his aching hole. Two long, thick veins ran along his member.
“You’re so big,” you stated, darting your eyes between his hard cock and handsome face.
“It’s okay,” Positioning himself in between your legs, he said, “I’ll make it fit, baby.”
When he pressed the tip of his dick against your awaiting hole, it felt like he was stepping through the gates of heaven.
One hand was placed next to your head, holding himself up, while his other hand gripped your hip.
His dick slid inside of your soaking wet pussy as if it belonged there; pieces of a puzzle coming together. The sinful moan that fell from between his lips was beautiful.
He couldn’t help it.
Not when your pussy was so tight, wet, and warm.
“Hmm, hey baby?” Gojo whispered, his warm breath patting against your ear, soft white hair tickling the side of your face. “You called me Gojo instead of Satoru earlier when I was eating your pussy. I want you to moan it again for me, over and over again. Can you do that?”
You nodded eagerly.
“Such a sweet girl,” he gave the shell of your ear a quick little lick. “So, so sweet.”
He didn’t wait too long to start thrusting in and out of you once your pussy had adjusted to his size. He simply couldn’t. Not when you felt so utterly amazing.
With his lips still close to your ear as he fucked you, the chatty man whispered all sorts of dirty things. And it only made you moan even louder.
“I could fuck you just like this forever. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He grunted, slamming himself inside of you at a quicker pace. “Sorry if I’m being too rough. I can’t help it, baby. Your pussy’s driving me crazy, just like I knew it would. I knew my best friend would feel this good. Who else other than me would know what to do with a pussy like this? Hm?”
“Gojo,” you called out, gripping his shoulders for dear life. “Gojo, I can’t- I’m gonna cum again!”
“Already?” He smirked, pulling away from your ear, his face only a few inches away from yours. “Gonna cum all over my dick? Make a mess?”
You didn’t respond — you couldn’t respond — not when he rhythmically fucked you like a doll, the tip of his dick reaching all the right spots inside of you.
“Shit,” Gojo suddenly groaned. “Think I’m gonna cum too, baby. I can’t hold it . . . Can’t fucking hold it much longer. I’m gonna fill you up. Stuff that pretty pussy with my cum. No one else will get to.”
“Please do it,” you stammered out with a whine, struggling to speak from the way your body was being pounded into. “P-Please!”
Suddenly, Gojo felt your pussy tighten around his cock. A wave of pure bliss washed over you, making your toes curl as you moaned his name in broken syllables.
The prettiest tears started to fall from your eyes. Gojo kissed them away.
His own orgasm was approaching quickly, building up in his lower stomach, dick, balls, and even his thighs.
“I’m so close — I’m right there, baby. I’m right there. Shit — I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum right inside of you, baby — there’s so much of it. I’m cumming-”
Feeling your cum coat his cock as your pussy milked him pushed him right over the edge. He moaned so loudly, it would have been entirely unsurprising if someone could have heard it from outside of the box.
He shot ropes upon ropes of warm, thick, pearly cum inside of you. His dick throbbed with every pulse, spilling every last drop of his semen into your stuffed hole.
“Baby,” Gojo whined lowly, attempting to catch his breath. “I didn’t think I’d ever stop cumming. You drive me crazy.”
“Can we go again?” Looking into his eyes with a pleading glance, you said, “I need more, Gojo, make me cum again. Please?”
“Did I just turn my best friend into my little slut?” Smirking, Gojo leaned down, kissing your lips once again. It was his favorite thing to do. “I’ll make you cum as many times as you want, sweetheart. We might be here for a while, so why not?”
Suddenly, Gojo lifted you, switching your positions until you were sitting right on top of him, his dick still inside of you.
“The prison realm doesn’t seem so bad anymore,” you grinned.
Gripping your hips, Gojo’s eyes scanned over your beautiful body, admiring the perfect view as you started to ride him.
Perhaps, he would have to thank Kenjaku someday.

🏷: @allofffmypeaches @manjiroswifo @yourusernames @armani78 @darkphoenix3432 @komonika
IF I HAD TO CHOOSE . . .

warnings . . . tits ass or thighs? multi fandom blog post ( JJK, GENSHIN, KNY, BLLK, TOKYO REVENGERS ), pxrn links to twt, tit sucking, missionary, cowgirl + reverse, backshots lol, humping, thigh fucking is so hot, fingering, fem rec oral, mentions of taking nudes, spankings, all visuals show lighter skinned people but i would never try to exclude anyone


TITS 2 3 — the ultimate life source, he lives off of the existence of yours. there's not a day that will go by where you won't catch him staring. he loves how soft they feel in his hands and how you let him squeeze them. it gets him so hard when you walk around braless or wear a tight or low cut shirt. truthfully, anything you wear is enough to get his cock stirring in his pants. he loves to worship them and dedicates time to showing you how much he loves them. sucking and slurping on your nipples is how he wants to spend his days. he fucks you extra hard to see them bounce when you're on your back. he holds you close to his chest and fucks up into you just to get his lips around your tit. pics of you in his shirt that's been pulled all the way up are his favorites. his collection of your tit pics range from selfies you sent and the dirtiest ones of you covered his cum.
satoru gojo, kento nanami, toge inumaki
kaedehara kazuha, xiao, diluc ragnivdr, thoma, venti, albedo, kamisato ayato, neuvillete
akaza, muzan, obanai iguro
yoichi isagi, rin itoshi, meguru bachira
takemichi hanagaki, seishu inui, takashi mitsuya, shinichiro sano, hajime kokonoi
ASS 2 3 — tight jeans and short skirts are his favorite, really anything that let him admire the curve of your ass. actually even baggier clothing made him feel proud of being the only one who knows what's underneath. he palms your ass every second of the day no matter where or who was around. he would hold it and playfully slap it whenever you were in arms reach. he would grip onto it like he would lose you and slam it against his pelvis desperately. he just needed to have his hands on your body in some way. when you were on top, he liked having your back to him so he could watch the ripples in your gorgeous ass. he would get so needy when it came to bending you over. especially when he had such quick access with you only in a shirt and panties. he'd have your back arched and all clothing pulled out of his way immediately.
toji fushiguro, ryomen sukuna, yuuji itadori, aoi todo, naoya zennin
scaramouche, kaeya, arataki itto, tartaglia, wriothesley, gorou
sanemi shinazugawa, tengen uzui
reo mikage, sae itoshi, shoei barou, ryusei shido, micheal kaiser
ken ryuguji, nahoya kawata, taiju shiba, kazutora hanemiya, shuji hanma
THIGHS 2 3 — he's so proud to admit his love for thighs. he thinks they're the most versatile. he can use them for whatever he needs. he takes naps on them, he lays on them to talk to you, he can fuck them super easily. they also look the cutest in little skirts that he buys you just to see them. then he pairs them with socks that squeeze in a way that gets his mouth watering. he gets to dress you up and take pictures of your pretty skin before his cum spills all over it. as much as he loves filling you up, he would never complain about finishing over your thighs. he'd even go as far as to clean it up then spend the rest of the night with his tongue between your folds. he'd drink ever drop you had to offer while your hands tangled in his hair. if his fingers weren't spreading you open then he'd push your thighs around his head.
choso kamo, megumi fushiguro, yuta okkotsu, hiromi higuruma
zhongli, cyno, kaveh, tighnari
giyuu tomioka, kyojuro rengoku, sabito, douma
hyoma chigiri, seoshiro nagi, rensuke kunigami
manjiro sano, chifuyu matsuno, hakkai shiba, souya kawata



AREN'T YOU JUST THE CUTEST LITTLE THING? (intro)
Welcome to my first kinktober, my loves! I've decided to make my own list of kinks for this year, so it will not line up with the official kinktober 2023 prompt list. I had a lot of fun with this, so I hope you all enjoy!
Fandoms included: mha, kny, bllk, jjk, aot
SIT. STAY. PAW. GOOD BOY! (general info)
ALL of these will be Dom! Reader. So, most of the kinks will be the character on the receiving end. I participate in aging characters up. Reader will either be: Gn! or AFAB (+Fem). It will be mentioned in warnings. Each fic will be released at 8 AM PST time and will be reblogged twice a day (most likely.)
My tag for this event is, #Barkforme!
DO YOU WANT A TREAT, PUPPY? (tag list)
Fill out this form to get notified for each post. Check out here to confirm I got you on the list!
Reblogs highly appreciated !!! <3

OCTOBER 1st | PET PLAY w/ Izuku Midoriya and Katsuki Bakugou
☆ BARK FOR ME! cw: gn! reader, collars/leashes, dog ears, reader forces katsuki to bark, reader is purposefully mean to izuku, mlm (they are forced to makeout), hand jobs, slight orgasm control, tons of sappy nicknames 5.0k
OCTOBER 2nd | SUB SPACE + MOMMY KINK w/ Satoru Gojo
☆ FIX ME cw: Fem? reader (no pronouns just use of names: mommy and mama), unreleastic portrayal of sub space, mentions of BDSM (rough treatment, degradation,whips, mistress/master use), safeword use (at the end), lots of cooing, Gojo unable to think properly, praise, comfort, clingy/needy Gojo 2.2k
OCTOBER 3rd | ORAL FIXATION + FACE FUCKING w/ Rin Itoshi
☆ BAD MOUTHING cw: reader is fem coded, gagging, lots of drool and saliva, unrealistic potrayal of oral fixations, cringey dialogue in beginning, tears, reader spits in his mouth, cumming in pants, biting 2.2k
OCTOBER 4th | SENSORY DEPRIVATION w/ Kyojuro Rengoku
☆ LIGHT AS A FEATHER cw: gn! reader, blindfold/gag/earmuffs, feather usage, ice usage, nonverbal safe word discussed (not used), implied wax play, crying, begging/pleading, reader is a liar. 2.7k
OCTOBER 5th | SPANKING w/ Eren Yeager
☆ MAYBE NEXT TIME cw: gn! reader, crying, Eren trying to be good, cursing, mean reader, slightly sadistic reader, handjob/hand humping, restraints, Eren is a good and then a brat for a bit 1.6k
OCTOBER 6th | CUCKHOLDING w/ Seishiro Nagi and Reo Mikage
OCTOBER 7th | FEMINIZATION w/ Yuuji Itadori
☆ PRETTY GIRL cw: gn! reader, men in skirts/feminine clothing, yuji being shy and embarrassed the entire time, teasing reader, praise, reader refers to him as a "she" and "her" throughout the entire thing, handjob 1.7k
OCTOBER 8th | TOYS w/ Giyuu Tomioka
☆ LEARNING EXPERIENCE cw: , gn! reader, modern-day au, vibrators, bullet vibrator, anal play, nipple clams, vibrating cock ring, reader lowkey sadistic, safeword mentioned, giyuu crying/sobbing, 2.1k
OCTOBER 9th | CORRUPTION w/ Tanjiro Kamado
☆ EXPLORATION cw: afab! + fem! reader, hand jobs, tanjiro has sexual fantasies, reader is a tease/has experience, mentions of pee, tanjiro fondles boobs lol, brief mention of sexual harassment 3.6k
OCTOBER 10th | SOMINOPHILIA w/ Levi Ackerman
☆ DREAM A LITTLE DREAM OF ME cw: gn! reader, nightmares + insomnia mentioned, oral (m! receiving), handjob in dreams, implied age gap, set in around season 2 timeline? im kinda forgetting which season erwin was in... kissing..lots of kissing, reader being puppy coded and levi is sick in love 3.2k
OCTOBER 11th | COCK WARMING + NIPPLE PLAY w/ Suguru Geto
☆ SIT BACK AND RELAX! cw: afab!/fem! reader, reader gets called "ma'am" once, geto nipples are abused :/, bottom reader, creampie, reader is a bit of a pervert, nipple piercings mention, begging and crying 2.5k
OCTOBER 12th | SOUNDING w/ Keigo Takami
☆ SO FULL cw: gn! reader, sounding, HEAVY sub/dom spaces, hints of sado/masochism, mentions of anal fingering, keigo crying and twitching, cursing, pee/urine mentioned throughout 1.9k
OCTOBER 13th | DEGRADATION + COCK STEPPING w/ Douma
OCTOBER 14th | LEG HUMPING w/ Ryomen Sukuna
☆ ONE TIME THING cw: Gn! Reader, Yuuji and reader r dating (Yuuji x reader), lots of threatening of death/small violent acts,, reader slaps him, sukuna has 2 cocks in his true form, heavy power dynamics, mention of subspace, previous cuffing, small mounts of blood 4.4k
OCTOBER 15th | HYBRIDS w/ Megumi Fushiguro
☆ PURR OF AFFECTION cw: cat hybrid! Megumi, AFAB + owner! reader but no pronouns, reader is implied to be smaller than him, vaginal penetration, creampie, slight breeding kink, birth control mentioned and used, purring/licking/mewling, he calls you his "mate" and u tease him bout it, needy megumi 2.4k
OCTOBER 16th | PILLOW HUMPING + PHONE SEX w/ Tamaki Amajiki
☆ THE CALL BEFORE BED cw: sub! top! Tamaki, bottom! gn! reader, praise kink, slight breeding kink, reader is a slight tease and tamaki is trying not to pass out from embaressment, fantasies, creampie in fantasy Y/N? does that need a tag? 3.1k
OCTOBER 17th | VOUYERISM w/ Meguru Bachira and Yoichi Isagi
☆ PARTNERS TOUCH cw: Sub/bottom isagi, sub/top bachira, mlm, anal sex, AFAB! reader because of mentions of pegging, but rest is Gn!, overstimulation, doggy style, picture taking, hand job, praise, nickname "baby" once for Isagi 3.1k
OCTOBER 18th | DRY ORGASM w/ Yuuta Okkotsu
☆ LIKE A GIRL! cw: gn! reader, multiple orgasm, sorta mentions of cnc? idk, "breeder balls" are used in a silly goofy way, pregnancy mentioned, yuuta cums a total of six times, unrealistic portrayal of dry orgasms. 1.9k
OCTOBER 19th | PROSTATE MASSAGE w/ Seishiro Nagi
☆ WHAT A STRANGE FEELING cw: gn! reader, anal fingering, twitching, hand job, crying and drool 2.0k
OCTOBER 20th | BONDAGE w/ Nanami Kento
OCTOBER 21st | FROTTAGE w/ Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru
OCTOBER 22nd | A/B/O w/ Yoichi Isagi
☆ HEAT TALKING cw: Omega/bottom Isagi, Top/Alpha/Gn reader, omegaverse stuff (slick, claiming, scenting, etc.), isagi is in heat, readers pp could be read as strap or dick, marking/biting, slight blood, possesive behavior, instincts and stuff, isagi lowkey being feral 2.6k
OCTOBER 23rd | DRY HUMPING + CHOKING w/ Reo Mikage
OCTOBER 24th | SPREADER BAR w/ Zenitsu Agatsuma
☆ TWITCHY LITTLE THING cw: gn! reader, crying, reader kinda is pushy but Zenitsu is fine with it, VERY sensitive Zenistu, overstimulation 1.2k
OCTOBER 25th | RIMMING w/ Armin Arlert
OCTOBER 26th | PEGGING + PRAISE w/ Akaza
OCTOBER 27th | OVERSTIMULATION + EDGING w/ Megumi Fushiguro and Yuuji Itadori
☆ PICK YOUR POISON cw: Gn!/ sadistic/crazy?/meanish reader, weird amounts of cum...like a strangely alot of cum involved, frottage - mlm (ik ik i have another day for this only but i just had to include it), handjobs, bondage, megumi in subspace, megumi goes a little insane? reader checks up on him tho, orgasm denial, orgasm control 3.3k
OCTOBER 28th | EXHIBITION w/ Denki Kaminari
OCTOBER 29th | SADISM/MASOCHISM w/ Katsuki Bakugou
OCTOBER 30th | CONSENSUAL NONCONSENT (CNC) (DARK CONTENT) w/ Meguru Bachira
OCTOBER 31st | MASTURBATION w/ Izuku Midoriya
☆ LOST IN A FANTASY cw: fem/afab reader, izuku masturbates to your voicemail and pretends to fuck you, reader calls him baby, and he calls u hun, needy izuku 1.5k
TOTAL WORD COUNT: 54.3k - 21/31


𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── as the last woman on earth, a government bounty marks you as humanity’s only hope for repopulation. unexpectedly, stumbling into your college football team becomes your lifeline, but instead of turning you in, they want to impregnate you on their own terms.
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── you're now reading . . . 𝐆𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 + 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 with isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, barou shoei, kunigami rensuke, chigiri hyoma, nagi seishiro & mikage reo
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── fem!reader, mentions of sexism in medicine, gangbang, breeding, cunninlingus, unprotected s*x, mild degradation, reader gets spanked once, mentions of food, mentions of babies, mentions of pregnancy, reverse harem, reader gets kidnapped, creampies, double penetration, nipple play, mentions of viral outbreaks, home isolation, mentions of human torture and experimentation, apocalypse AU, dark content ahead (10k+ words i am sick in the head)
⇤flip back to the pervtober masterlist

One thing about life you were coming to find out in your short existence, was that it could change in the blink of an eye.
One day, you’re a popular cheerleader everyone loves, on the Dean’s List and speeding through to a life of accolades and financial stability, then the next, a viral outbreak spirals out of control, infecting and offing only women.
It started with rapid coughing and sneezing. Many expert scientists cited a woman's inferior immune system compared to men. They barely paid any attention to the growing casualties in one half of the population, just like how they turned a blind eye to PCOS or the persistent chronic pain most women seemed to experience throughout their lives.
As the voices of one half went unheard, the dire consequences slapped mankind fully in the face.
Birth rates dropped, many nations lost their manpower and society became increasingly violent and hostile.
Those women that were left were transferred to medical facilities under the guise of rehabilitating them. But, there were the rumours of abuse and medical experiments that arose from shady forums and chat groups.
You had read some of them from Jienna’s laptop when she was still alive.
Your best friend and roommate was an advocate for women’s rights, even before the world hadn’t gone to shit, and she was the first one who opened your eyes to the blatant mistreatment women were going through official medical channels. When the virus hit, the both of you huddled in your shared dormitory, trading packets of ramen and stories while waiting for more aid to come.
She always had such a bright smile and determination. The day the virus took her away from you was one you could never forget.
Jienna laid on her bed, a grey pallor overtaking her once radiant skin. The skincare she religiously applied was gathering dust on her dresser, and everytime she exhaled, it sounded coarser and coarser.
Eventually, she closed her eyes and never awoke again, and you had to page the medical team to extract her body, all while tears streamed down your cheeks and you were hovering on the edge of a full meltdown.
Your family across the country couldn’t even come and see you; your brothers were barred from taking you back home, as every woman in the district was given strict orders to remain at home and behind locked doors to keep the virus away.
But, it always managed to slip through the cracks. Whether it was from infected food or contaminated medical equipment.
The virus killed any female it touched.
News reports began surfacing that hens were dying out, impacting the supply of eggs. Cows were dropping dead in fields, the world’s milk supply running dry for the first time in existence. The pregnant black cat you used to feed behind your dorms was found dead behind a dumpster by a group of computer science boys.
Slowly, the world descended into chaos, and more and more women were disappearing.
It was exactly day 40 of your lockdown when you decided you would run away.
Packing every non-perishable canned food you could find into a big bag, you waited until dusk fell and when the nurses would hand you your dinner. You knew it would be one of the older security guys who used to direct parking on your campus, and he had a bad hip so he couldn’t chase you down.
As much as you hated hurting him, the first punch in his face was enough to knock him out cold. You hopped over his body, careening down the hallway and pushing yourself towards the outside of the college campus.
Luck was on your side when you dashed out the front door to find an idle truck. It was from one of the block rangers, and you didn’t hesitate to jump inside of it, revving the engine and stepping down on the gas pedal.
Someone yelled out your name, but you were too fired up to care. In your mind, you decided it would be better to die from the virus than staying cooped up for the rest of your life. At least with dying, you would be free.
You had no plan and no idea what to do next but to race towards the closest abandoned building you could find. Jienna had told you about it during her dying days—how there was a series of abandoned buildings just at the edge of town where defiant women stayed the last of their days there.
Having seen with your own eyes what the virus did to your roommate, you were sure you were prepared to go out the same way. There would be a few days where your immune system fought back, but without the right food and care, you would waste yourself away.
Better than being trapped forever in a small dorm. You viciously gunned the engine and raced towards that shining beacon of hope.
The buildings out of town were abandoned like Jienna said, and you prepared to set up your death camp. The concrete slab walls were drab and the floor was too hard and cold to sleep on, but you made do with a blanket you managed to steal from the lobby.
Days passed and soon, you were starting to wonder if the virus was even real. Your meals consisted of canned beans and whatever scraps you could find in the dumpster nearby. You didn’t dare to light a fire in case it might attract someone’s attention, and your showers were virtually non-existent.
Maybe I shouldn’t have left the dorms.
Those thoughts of ‘what if’ and ‘should haves’ kept you up at night and haunted your waking moments.
One day, you thought you heard footsteps echoing down the hallways, but then, you found out it was just a bunch of squatters looking for a place to sleep. They turned their nose up on the squalor and left you alone feeling bemused and a little disappointed that not even the lowest rank of humanity would want to spend a night at a place you consistently slept in.
But, your newfound freedom was too good to be true.
It had been too quiet and too peaceful. The bubble was waiting to pop and your hopes burst one day when you awoke in cold sweat to hear a man’s voice down the hallways.
“... heard she escaped here…”
“Are you sure?”
The fatigue weighing you down shot out of your system and you sat up ramrod straight, rushing to get your goods without making a sound.
“No news of… gotta be the last one in the vicinity…”
You hurriedly stuffed your blanket into your backpack, taking care not to breathe too loud in case they might hear. The beam of a flashlight pricked your irises, and having lived for a while in the dark, you weren’t used to such brightness.
Squinting, you stayed close to the walls, slinging your bag onto your shoulders and preparing to depart down a flight of steps straight into the forest fringing these buildings. Your flexibility as a cheerleader back in your old life helped you out to creep on the floors quietly, extending one leg and then another while keeping close to the walls.
However, you didn’t see where your foot landed, and before you could stop in mid-step, the empty can of beans went clattering to the ground.
For a split second, all you could hear was your breath and the rush of blood in your ears.
The beam of light immediately swung towards your direction, illuminating your left leg and the implicated empty can in question.
Shit. You had been discovered.
“Wait!” One of the men yelled, but you didn’t stop to listen. Hightailing it out of here, you sprinted to the entrance, about to escape into the night when you felt a bigger body slam into you from the side.
Screaming out, you barely caught a glimpse of your perpetrator, but he was holding you down with his larger body, pinning you right to the dirty ground.
“Got her!” he yelled back to other men. “It’s a girl! She’s here!”
You blindly reached your hand out and felt the sharp edge of a rock cut into your palm. Swinging it towards him, you bashed the side of his head, and in the glimpses of light from the shining moon up ahead, you caught sight of his vivid, dark hair.
The man yelped and stumbled back, staunching the heavy flow of blood oozing from his right cheek.
“Fuck!” he bellowed, and you used his momentum of shock to push him off of you.
But, he had enough dexterity to clamp a hand around your knee, bringing you back down to the ground.
“No!” you started to scream and sob. “Please! Let me go!”
Someone else came to his rescue, holding you down. You felt ropes around your wrists, drawing them behind your back. Your sobs were muffled by a bag thrown over your head, and for good measure, they tied your ankles, too. It took two of them to carry you into a car, and you were laid on someone’s lap, his arms roping around you and pressing you to his chest.
As the men piled back into the car, you started to sob when you heard the engine ignite.
“Ssh, it’s okay,” the man who held you crooned. “It’s gonna be fine, Y/N.”
Through your tears, you recognized that they knew your name.
A hand touched your knee, rubbing it soothingly. “We’re not here to hurt you.”
That voice. You had heard it before. It brought to mind dark blue eyes and a mop of dark hair. A pair of toned legs tearing through a football field and a charming, lopsided smile.
“I-Isagi?”
He hummed. “It’s me, Y/N. Barou’s holding you, by the way.”
In answer, the self-proclaimed king of the field back from when your college days consisted of study horrors and not a world crisis, flooded your mind with stark familiarity when he exhaled out your name.
“Hey, Y/N.”
“It’s the boys from the football team,” Isagi informed you, like you were on a road trip with them instead of forcefully being kidnapped against your own will.
“H-how did you find me?” The bag they stuffed over your head smelled musty, and you struggled to talk through it. “C-can you get this fucking thing off my head?”
Someone pried the sack off, and you inhaled in deep gusts of air, your wide eyes taking in the darkened interior of this truck and the boys who were holding you hostage.
Isagi had lost a bit of weight since you last saw him. The last you heard of the Blue Lock team’s co-captain was that he had lost his mother to the virus and the school had started a fund for him to cover her funeral expenses. Turning your eyes towards the man who was holding you, Barou’s jaw was tight, and his eyes were heavy with dark circles.
The man driving was Kunigami, whose hands were white-knuckled fists on the steering wheel. Next to him in the passenger, bleeding out from his cheek, was Itoshi Rin. You noticed how he side-eyed you from the front, and returned his evasive look with a frosty glare.
Lastly, at the back of this 8-seater was Chigiri, Nagi and Reo—the former two being the most unlikely combination of acquaintances you had ever seen join this ragtag group of football bros. Nagi and Reo were famous for being fused at the hip since they both started their business degree courses together. They rarely fraternised with anyone else outside of their coursemates, much less kidnap some random woman.
At the reminder of your predicament, you squirmed, accidentally rubbing your ass all over Barou’s crotch. He didn’t react beyond a low hiss of, “Quit it,” those thick and sturdy arms tightening around your trembling body. You tried to ignore how you could feel something hard poking your lower back.
“Why did you kidnap me?” you demanded off the bat. “How did you find me? What are you going to do with me?”
Those rapid questions were met with silence. You flitted your gaze to each of them, and through the passing snatches of orange streetlights, you saw every one of their expressions drenched in guilt.
“We… don’t know.”
Isagi was the one who spoke first, preparing himself to earn your rage.
“You don’t know?” you mumbled, growing more incensed every minute with how they had wrenched you from your peaceful life in the ruins. “You don’t know where you’re taking me. What you’re planning to do with me. You don’t know the reason why you went through all that trouble to track me down. You don’t—”
“It’s because you have a bounty on your head.”
Rin’s voice cut through your growing tirade, leaving you cold with disbelief.
“I… what?”
On your right, Isagi nodded, rubbing the back of his neck like he would rather be somewhere else than in this vehicle having such a difficult conversation.
“After you escaped, the officials posted your bounty and your suspected whereabouts. Um, it’s uh… well, Y/N… you’re the last woman alive from our college.”
You exhaled, feeling your chest constrict and tears prick your eyes.
All your lecturers… your friends… your cheerleading gang…
“Are they all gone?” The boys didn’t comment on your thick voice or the unshed tears.
Kunigami was the first one to express his remorse. “I’m sorry, Y/N. That’s the truth.”
Rin decided to rip the bandaid off quicker, leaving you reeling in confusion and despair. “The authorities put up notices for you because your status was unknown. They said that anyone who brought you back—dead or alive—would receive two million yen.”
The reality of your situation settled in like sentiment falling to the bottom of a glass jar.
You felt cold all over, your heartbeat right in your throat.
“So, you’re either going to k-kill me or turn me in, huh?”
Your heavy question was met with silence.
Surprisingly, it was Nagi at the back who piped up in his lazy, drawling tone. “Actually… we have a better plan.”
Isagi was the first to react. He shot Nagi a murderous look, shaking his head. Kunigami glanced at the white-haired man through the rearview mirror with narrowed eyes, and Rin’s scowl deepened. Chigiri, who had been quiet throughout this entire exchange, sighed out, “Idiot” under his breath.
The only one who looked supportive of what Nagi had to say was—no surprise there—Reo himself.
“It’s a good plan! She’s still healthy,” he argued on behalf of his best friend. Nagi nodded, humming.
“The virus should’ve taken her out weeks ago, but she managed to survive all on her own in such dirty conditions… I really think we should give it a shot.”
The air in the car changed; thickening and becoming ripe with tension. Barou’s arms suddenly felt too hot around your body, and you broke out into a sweat.
“It could work,” Isagi started out slowly, rubbing his chin. He had a look on his face you knew all too well—that calculative, goal-hungry stare that would eventually destroy his enemies.
Rin tilted his head towards the backseat, his turquoise eyes drawing circles on the car’s water-stained ceiling. “Do you think that would be legal for us to do?”
“We have to keep her hidden.” Chigiri spoke up, demanding everyone's attention. “The authorities can’t know that we have a woman with us or we’d be punished. We have to be very careful with Y/N.”
You were still drawing blanks on their ideas, growing more frustrated every single second you were kept in the dark from their decisions on your fate. “What do you fucking assholes mean? Legal? Keeping me away from the authorities? What do you want with me?”
Your voice broke on the last question, and without warning, you started to sob. The weeks of roughing it out on your own, trying to escape from society and hide in plain sight were taking its toll on you. You wept bitterly, hiding your face behind your hair and sobbing into your shoulder.
“Shit,” someone muttered in the front.
“Give her some water.”
It was Isagi who gently coaxed your face from your shoulder, holding a bottle of clean water. You contemplated spitting a mouthful at him, but ultimately, your thirst won out and you drank deeply.
He wiped your tears off with the sleeve of his threadbare sweater and you hiccuped into a silence, already accepting your death.
“We don’t want to hurt you,” Reo murmured from the back. You lifted your swollen, red eyes to find his purple ones full of sincerity. “We actually want to keep you safe. There’s been rumours about human experiments and none of us want you to go through that. We want to keep you safe.”
You should’ve known the group’s appointed spokesperson would be a man used to spouting sweet words to get his way—whether with professors or girls—but a part of you wanted to believe Reo. You were so, so tired of fending for yourself, you wanted someone to help you with the burden of being a woman in these unacceptable times.
“Yes, Y/N.” Rin’s sudden reassurance struck you dumb with disbelief. “We have our old frat house—nobody comes by there anymore. We’ll keep you safe there and you can rest.”
It all sounded too good to be true. Here was a band of college footballers being completely sweet with you—wanting to protect, nurture and keep you hidden. But, you were waiting for the other shoe to drop; the catch in this arrangement.
“There’s more,” you whispered, scenting out their bullshit. “You’re not telling me the real reason.”
Men were never good liars—that much you could tell. So, when every single footballer glanced at the other, your senses were in red alert, demanding to uncover what was the terrible footnote to this otherwise flawless proposal.
“Well?” you muttered coldly, strengthening your resolve. “What do you want from me? What’s the catch?”
Reo was quick to turn your question around. “What? There’s no catch—”
“There is.” It was Isagi who spoke, sounding resigned and tired in the dimming darkness. “There is a catch. We shouldn’t lie to her, guys. We all agreed to tell her the truth if we found her and she was willing to listen.”
You held your breath, waiting for Isagi to drop the bomb. He seemed like he needed a moment to stabilise himself. He drew in a deep breath and unlocked his shoulders, looking you square in the eye. You half-wished he had kept you in the dark; never told you the truth. Because what he said next completely swept you off your feet, landing you onto the ground face-first and gasping in disbelief.
“It’s not about rewards or money—it’s about duty. We need your help to repopulate this city, Y/N… we want you to carry one of our babies.”

You felt a pair of broad-set shoulders shake under your smaller frame, the man underneath you stretching out his kinks and stiff muscles after a night of good sleep.
“Hm,” he groaned, brushing a hand down your bare spine. “Good morning, angel.”
Reo’s husky voice drew you back into consciousness, and you whined, burying your face into his neck to hide yourself from the morning’s glare. He chuckled at your antics, nosing your hair and pressing soft kisses onto your temple. “C’mon, sweetheart. It’s Rin’s turn with you today.”
Without missing a beat or opening your eyes, you mumbled: “Maybe you should all fuck me at one go so you guys can see who’s strong enough to knock me up.”
You meant those words as a joke, but when Reo’s shoulders stiffened, you suddenly realised the depth of danger you were flirting with.
“Don’t say such things you’ll regret, sweetheart,” he meant to tease you, gently easing you off his chest. “Or, the boys won’t stop until you give each one of us a baby.”
You tried to laugh, to shake off the sudden unease. Today was Wednesday, and Wednesdays meant pancake days in this unconventional household. You got up and slipped on Reo’s shirt, fluffing out your shorter hair. The guys had insisted you cut your locks so that it would be easier to hide them under a baseball cap and pass you off as a man if anyone came looking.
Sometimes, you did miss your femininity, but in a world where it was literally dying out, you couldn’t take any chances.
Flashing Reo a smile, you hummed. “Don’t laze around too much like Nagi—I’m making breakfast.”
In the living room, Bachira was the only one up and awake, his bright golden eyes following your every move as you wished him good morning and prepared your ingredients. Without a sound, he slipped behind you, calloused hands warm on your bare belly.
“Morning, beautiful,” he whispered into your ear, making goosebumps rise on your arms.
“Morning, Meguru,” you mumbled, trying to ignore how his hands were creeping up to your bare breasts. Living with seven men meant that you were subjected to their advances night and day. It got even worse when you had told them you missed your period last week, but your cycle turned out to be just a few days late.
That didn’t stop them from feeling you up, grasping your hips or pressing soft kisses to your neck when you least expected it. Like now, with Bachira’s hot breath bathing the sensitive strip of your jaw.
Meguru hadn’t been part of your kidnapping heist a few weeks ago, but he had shown up when Isagi called—ready to be of service and contribute his portion in repopulating your tiny, dying town.
Clicking your tongue at the price tag on the egg carton, you flipped the cardboard cover closed, affronted by the steep spike in those numbers.
“It’s getting bad out there, right?”
Bachira paused his efforts in running his nose down your neck, taken off guard by your sudden question. “Um. Yeah. Why’d you ask, princess?”
Because I haven’t seen the outside world in weeks. You swallowed your bitterness, focused on whipping the yolks into a golden perfection. The boys were doing their best to make you feel cosy and safe within these walls; you couldn’t be too ungrateful. They didn’t let you out for fear of someone catching sight of you—that’s why the windows and doors were all covered and barricaded.
They restricted your contact with only seven of them because they didn’t want an anonymous tip-off to result in you being taken away.
Every Blue Lock player was careful to protect their golden ace.
“Nothing,” you hummed in the breeziest voice you could muster. “Just curious, s’all.”
“Hmm.” Bachira’s hands moved up to your naked tits moving freely under Reo’s bigger t-shirt. “You smell like him,” he accused you softly with a nip to your ear. “That stupid rich boy.”
“Don’t tell me you’re jealous,” you tried not to smirk, but failed.
“Nah.” Bachira’s fingers trailed to your stiffening nipples, still sore from Reo’s ministrations (he loved biting down on them while you rode him) and eased the soft flesh in between his thumb and forefinger. “I was waiting for my turn—can’t believe I have to share you with those bastards.” You tried not to gasp and push your body back to meet his pelvis halfway, failing miserably to measure a cup full of milk. Some of the liquid sloshed onto your wrist and you heard Meguru snort.
“I love how sensitive you are, baby.”
Biting on your lower lip to stifle a whine, you pushed your ass back to brush the front of his pants, finding him already hard and waiting.
Bachira was one of the more eager boys, and you had to pace yourself and him less he fucked you on this counter and ruined Rin’s day with you.
“Meguru—”
“I know, I know,” he groaned, sounding both lustful and disappointed. “You’re emo Itoshi’s tonight. Fucking stupid stick game.” Cursing himself for literally getting the shorter end of the stick, you felt his pout imprint on your skin. “But, can’t we have a little bit of fun, baby? Can I eat your pussy out at least?”
You literally throbbed at his words, and almost gave in to the rushing desire sweeping you off your feet. Almost—until you heard Isagi’s voice knocking the both of you out of this lust-filled fog.
“Hey. What’re you both doing?”
While you smelled a threat, Bachira smelled an opportunity. His grin was shark-like, cutting through the tension when he didn’t stop playing with your nipples or back down when you hissed out his name.
“What’s it look like? I’m trying to fuck her.”
You tensed, waiting for Isagi to be pissed off. He was the one who reinforced this one-night sharing rule, and to see his best friend blatantly disregarding it would set off his rigid ego.
But, to your surprise, Isagi tilted his head, taking note of your flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. “I think she… she likes it.”
Bachira glanced down to find your mouth parted slightly, brows furrowed with a deceptive look of pain when both men knew what it was. Desire.
Isagi, who could smell a goal or a wrench in the plans from a mile away, started to chuckle.
“Lift up her shirt. Continue playing with her nipples, Meguru.”
“Yes, captain,” Bachira sang, and lifted the hem of Reo’s sleep shirt up to expose your puffy, swollen nipples.
“Shit,” Isagi breathed, and you didn’t miss how he had to adjust himself through his shorts, those dark blue eyes eclipsed with a dark, unnamed emotion you were terrified to uncover. “They look so perfect and pointy.”
Bachira rolled your sensitive buds between his two fingers, ignoring your soft yelp and flinch when he began to tug on them with a bit more force. “Huh—it really is. Reo must’ve prepped her nicely for us.”
“For what?”
The voice of another lover joined the fray. You peeled your watery eyes up to find Reo’s curious expression sweeping between his two friends and your own flushed face. He didn’t seem angry that you were being fondled by Bachira in broad daylight—in fact, Reo looked like he didn’t feel anything.
He almost looked bored, sweeping those purplish hues to Isagi. “So, are we finally doing it?”
“Hmm.”
Doing what? You wanted to ask, but your head was tilted back, mouth falling open only for it to be filled by Bachira’s tongue coaxing yours to come and play with his. His kiss—if it could even be called that—was sloppy and unhurried, its full intention to leave you feeling shame and vulnerability in front of two of your other lovers.
Showing them how you easily folded and lost yourself to the sensations.
“Mm—can see her moving her hips,” Isagi’s lowered, husky voice shot a potent mix of desire and shame through your veins. “Check how wet she is Meguru.”
Abiding his best friend, Bachira dipped two fingers past the waistband of your sleep shorts. You mewled and tossed your head back when he swiped through your folds, teasingly circling your clit.
As soon as he gave you that wonderful friction, he retrieved it, leaving you high and dry.
“Meguru,” you whimpered. Bachira ignored you, holding his fingers up to the other two men; his digits glistening with your juices.
“I don’t think she can wait anymore,” Reo murmured, and this time, you caught a flash of darkness in his otherwise kind eyes. “Isagi—”
“I’ll go first.”
Meguru nudged you firmly to face the approaching, dark-haired man. You couldn’t keep your eyes off Isagi’s intense, blue eyes that were pinning you right to the spot like you were about to be burned on a stake. The fire came next when he reached out to caress your cheek, trailing his hand down your neck and grabbing your throat.
“Tease her clit again,” he ordered, and Bachira playfully said,
“Yes, captain.”
Fuck. You were growing lightheaded from the combination of Isagi choking you and Bachira running slow circles on your throbbing clit. It was even filthier when you remembered Reo was watching, most likely getting off to your desperate pinched expressions.
“Meguru… Yoichi…”
Calling them by their first name seemed to spur on those two men. Meguru eased one finger past your tight ring of muscle, melting through your spongy walls and hooking the tip of this thick index right against your g-spot. He nudged it forward in a fluid motion, like how he would effortlessly send forward a ball across the field, forcing a yelp past your kiss-swollen lips.
Your vision was purely dominated by Isagi’s increasingly unhinged expression; the sweat bulleting down his forehead, his mouth parted in a silent snarl, those dark, beautiful eyes coaxing you to jump down a well just to feel his touch…
“Y-Yoichi.”
As if he understood your deeper need, Isagi nodded feverishly at Bachira. “Remove her shorts… hold her open while I eat her out.”
Dutifully, Meguru followed his friend's instructions. You watched with wide, unblinking eyes as Yoichi got to his knees, his mouth so close to where you needed him the most.
Bachira slung your shorts down your ankles, revealing the sweet shape of your mound and the even sweeter treasure hidden in between your folds. Like a man hellbent on a mission, Yoichi gently pried your clit from under her hood, revealing the throbbing bud waiting to be licked, sucked or loved on.
You barely had time to catch your breath before his mouth was on you.
Every man in this house ate you out differently. Reo was more careful and controlled. Nagi was languid and tended to overstimulate you. Barou loved to have your legs on his shoulders as he dove in between your thighs.
But, Isagi was different; he ate you out with the determination of a man who had to prove he was the best in every way.
The feeling of his tongue swiping through your folds, those perfect pink lips sealing around your clit and how he sounded like he was making out with your pussy made you clench down on thin air.
“Yoichi…” you breathed.
Bachira went to work on stimulating you, too, tugging your shirt above your head and pinching your nipples again.
Both boys were so intent on driving you to the edge, that they didn’t realise the group of spectators they were attracting.
From the corner of your watery eyes, you noticed Rin standing, arms crossed over his broad shoulders and frosty glare—tainted with jealousy—directed towards the man in between your thighs. Kunigami had just gotten out of the shower, so his hair was still damp while Barou had returned from a workout, his muscles swollen and shiny with sweat. Chigiri and Nagi were the only ones probably still asleep, though you had little doubt your stream of moans would wake them up out of curiosity.
Meguru flicked the tip of his nails on your nipples, the sharp sting sending bites of pleasure right to your core.
“Megu—” you were interrupted again by another sloppy kiss.
“Tch. You’re all such fucking horndogs.” Rin’s grumble was white noise behind the blood rushing in your ears.
“... you’re not complaining…”
“Shut up…”
A sharp nip to your flesh inner thigh wrenched you back to the present, and you gasped, making eye contact with Isagi and his raised brow.
“You’re getting bored, Princess?”
Without missing a beat, you shook your head. “N-no, ‘Ichi. Mm’sorry.”
He clicked his tongue, obviously not buying your lie. “Here you are getting your pussy eaten out by me and you’re focusing on the other boys. Just admit that you’re a fucking cockwhore, Y/N.”
You gaped at his words, and your rage was lost when Bachira dragged you back to the counter, arranging you face down and ass up.
“M-Meguru—!”
“Come on, who wants to fuck her first,” he boldly exclaimed, shaking you to the core. “She’s ready for a baby.”
You burned from the inside out at how cheaply he was treating you; that sensation amplified by the sharpest slap of humiliation across your cheeks, Bachira’s handprint glowing warmly on your skin. He spanked you again, matching his mark on your right cheek to your left one, letting you cry out and clench down on thin air.
“Me.” A deep, resonate voice which you loved having at your ear while he fucked you on every Monday night. After all—a King always went first.
As one of the bigger guys, Barou’s physique gave him the advantage over the others to call dibs on you first, his undeniably good genetics and strong bone structure a contender for healthy babies.
You felt Bachira’s warmth melt from your side to be replaced by the feel of Shoei’s toned thighs pressed against your rear.
He soothed the spanks left on your skin with one large, coarse palm, and hummed deeply.
“You ready, pretty?”
Nodding, you turned your head to the side, unable to believe that you were in such a vulnerable position to be fucked by the entire football team.
You weren’t going to lie—you had imagined yourself in this position before. But, it was always in your wildest fantasies; to be defiled by the football team in your tiny uniform behind the bleachers. If you were being honest, every girl on campus had the same daydream, but you were closer to the unattainable. The entire idea was such a cliche, and yet, here you were, in a room full of hungry, testosterone-fuelled men who eagerly waited to have their turn with you—the pretty cheerleader from their bygone days before the world tried to kill humanity off.
Barou wasted no time in sinking his thick cock into you, groaning as your body took him inch by inch. He rubbed your hips, leaning forward to gently thumb your nipple. “There you go, baby. Taking me so well.”
His words were a stark contrast from his actions. Shoei gave a low, guttural groan when he bottomed out, a dirty thrill shooting down your spine at the feel of his entire cock moulding with your walls as seven other men gaze lustfully at you.
Through the shine of an old kettle on the counter top, you noticed Isagi palming himself through his shorts. Bachira was blatantly jacking himself off, one hand inside his sleep shorts. Kunigami was sitting on the sofa, staring at you slack-jawed and completely hard under his towel. Reo was the more subtle one, furtively glancing around and looking slightly uncomfortable, but still unable to tear his eyes from you.
Chigiri and Nagi had woken up, and Rin was standing a little ways by the door, distancing himself from the activities taking place.
For a split second, you felt bad for him—Rin was supposed to have you today, but he had to wait for his turn as the other guys fucked you; figuratively and literally blue-balled by his own teammates. It would’ve made you mad on his behalf if you weren’t—
“Ow!”
A sharp tug on your roots snapped your head back, and your cry bounced off the walls. Barou’s lips were on your neck, his hot breath fanning across your neck.
“Did I tell you you could be distracted? Pay attention to when your King fucks you.”
From the back, you heard Bachira snicker, but every thought flew out of your head when Barou set a pace which had your toes curling in your house slippers. He clamped one hand around the delicate roots of your hair, while the other guided your hips to meet his halfway.
The sound of balls hitting flesh filled the air, along with your animalistic groans and Barou’s deep ones. You heard a few more muffled groans, and someone cursing, but your thoughts were doused in wet cotton, growing heavier and fuzzier.
You could barely keep your eyes open, only cognizant of Barou’s cock shaping your walls and the impending ball of heat waiting to unravel right under your navel. Meeting his thrusts cleanly, soft mewls fell from your plush lips like dew, mingling with a bit of drool puddling onto the counter right under your mouth.
Barou was fucking you stupid and the other men knew it. He couldn’t stop the feral grin splitting his face in half when your hips bucked, a little slutty tick which told every man you were about to cum.
Without warning, you felt wet warmth fill you to the brim—your first load of the day taken like a champ.
Shoei hadn’t let you cum, and you reeled back from the disappointment with barely any grace; your soft sob was replaced by a moan when another man lined up his cock to your stuffed entrance.
You smelled his fresh pine cologne before you saw him, and sensed Rin’s impatience the second he gripped your jaw and wrenched your face back for a deep, frenzied kiss.
“Fucking whore,” he whispered into the heat of your mouth. “Letting the other boys feel you up when it’s my turn with you today. Where’s your shame?”
Your answer melted as one with a dulcet moan when Rin slid two fingers in between your swollen folds, testing the waters of your arousal. He barely cared when his digits were coated with a combination of Barou’s cum and your juices; he just stuck those soiled, pale and nimble fingers which could’ve rivalled a skilled pianist down your throat. You gagged on them, eyes going blurry and all teary from the flavouring of sin heavy on your tongue.
“Rin,” you hiccuped, and he hummed.
“Take me deeper, baby.”
His command brought a throbbing wave of desperation arresting you from head to toe. You tried to bring his fingers further down your gullet, but gagged when he was almost knuckle-deep.
“Mhpmh!” Your syrupy moan made every man groan, the sheer desperation in how you attempted to fully swallow Rin’s fingers a commendable feat considering he had absurdly thick fingers to match his height.
“Good girl,” Rin praised you in a husky voice when he felt your throat bob around his digits. “You’re really such the perfect fuckdoll, huh? Always so ready for us.”
“Mhmm…” your eyes rolled back into your head, your entire body tensing when you felt his cock slowly breach past your tight ring of muscle.
“Fucking take this dick, baby, I know you can,” the youngest striker urged, his words beyond filthy compared to the other men. Rin was one of the only few people in this house who could talk you through the immense pleasure, and you loved him all the more for it.
His obscene mouth would never fail to leave you reeling from the difference in his demeanour; sour and quiet when he wasn’t fucking you, to brash and downright filthy when he was egging you towards an orgasm.
You loved Rin and his duality; lived to watch it come to life.
You wanted to swallow him down and eat him up whole to satiate the deep well of lust inside of you no matter the price.
“Rin…” you gurgled past his fingers. “Mhmmmore.”
“More?” he interpreted your gurgles with the ghost of a chuckle. You quite liked it when Rin laughed even if it was a soft exhale; it made you feel lighter to hear his happiness. He hummed and plunged his fingers back down your throat, playing with the soft palate of your tongue, while his cock inched deeper and deeper into your sacred heat.
The second he bottomed out, his forehead thumped onto your shoulder, a long drawn out groan of relief radiating warmth right into your throbbing heart. Rin’s reactions were adorable as they were pussy stirring, his duality further exacerbated by those spit-slicked fingers retracting from your mouth and moving down to your puffy clit.
He gently rubbed circles into them, catching you whenever you bucked into his embrace. His lips were on your neck, his hot breath expelling heated groans onto the sensitive skin. Every single shaky circle on your sensitive nub was pulling you closer and closer into a white hole of pleasure.
Your moans were reaching fever pitch, and the entire house was doused with the arousal of seven men who couldn’t wait to fuck you.
The boys whispered something over your stream of mewls and your feet were off the ground, your limp body in Rin’s arms. Without a second to spare, he brought you to the main bedroom where the largest bed could fit at least three men.
There, he laid you down, your head dangling off the edge so your mouth was hanging wide open for the next man to defile.
Rin eased himself in between your spread thighs, placing a kiss onto your sternum almost reverently and leaving more pressees on your jaw and cheeks. You felt someone else rustle up towards the other side of the bed, and your eyes met Kunigami’s darkened ones. His towel was shed off, a heap on the floor, and his long, girthy cock throbbed in anticipation over your face.
“Open up for me, pretty girl,” Rensuke murmured, grazing your cheek and then hooking a thumb on your bottom lip to spread you wider. You whined, overstimulated on both ends when you felt both men sink into you at the same time. Rin bottomed out the second Rensuke hit the back of your throat, making you jerk and gag.
The both of them were big—far too big for your smaller body. It was a struggle to take them both and you felt your body reacting to the impossible feat.
“Ssh, ssh,” Rin whispered into your hair. “Relax, baby. You can take us, I know you can.”
With watery eyes, all you could do was mewl, hips bucking pathetically. Rin’s long girth was directly hitting your g-spot with every thrust, and Rensuke was splitting your throat in half. You felt like you could drown in their musk and the thick scent of sex in the air.
Something bitter hit the back of your throat, and you gagged, about to spit Rensuke out when he clamped one hand on your throat, telling you to keep him there if you wanted to know what was good for you.
“Hold me, sweetheart. Hold it,” the large football player murmured. You were sure your entire system was going haywire—your pussy and mind in war to come out at the top of your frazzled emotions.
One of your hands was buried in Rin’s hair, and another was perched on Kunigami’s thigh, trying to ease him down your battered throat.
Without warning, the other man withdrew his thick length from your mouth, splatters of drool dripping down your chin and neck; defiling you even more.
“Fucking hurry it up, Rin,” Kunigami growled, throwing the other striker a murderous look which juxtaposed his usually kind expression jarringly. “I need to cum in her.”
Rin grunted, returning the other striker’s glare with a hostile one of his own. “Shut the fuck up—let me have this with her.” Kunigami stroked himself, trying to keep himself hard as Rin started to jackhammer into your willing cunt.
Your screams of pleasure echoed around the room, contrasting with the other men’s deep growls and groans. It sounded like a smorgasbord of erotic sounds, complemented by the slap of Rin’s balls on your ass.
The youngest man was close on the verge of his orgasm, his face pinched and drawn. You thought he would’ve taken this chance to cum and ignore your pleasure, like Barou did, but you were sorely wrong when it came to Rin. He pressed a thumb to your swollen clit, rubbing it soft and sweet, increasing the pressure when you started to buck and whine into his embrace.
You smelled the sting of his sweat, felt it drip into your open mouth, tainting it with the taste of Kunigami’s precum and his own excitement.
“I’m close,” you sobbed out, arms like vines around his shoulders, nails stabbing into his back. “G’na cum, Rin-Rin—fuck, don’t stop, please don’t stop.”
He shook his head, a feral look of pure determined arousal lighting those beautiful features. “Cum for me, baby. Make a mess—show the other guys how much you love my cock.”
Your back arched, and your mouth fell open in a silent scream. Your thighs tensed around his waist, almost clamping the air out of his lungs from how hard you were clenching around him. The minute ticks, the red lines you left down his back, and your eyes rolling back into your skull arrived at a blinding crescendo.
“Oh! Ugh, Rin—!”
Your first orgasm hit you like a brick wall, steamrolling every thought from your blank mind. Rin’s face fell into the crook of your neck, and his stuttering hips brought forth a fountain of warmth flowing freely into your womb.
You were coasting, high on hormones and pleasure, when he disappeared from your embrace, only to be replaced by another body. Kunigami’s lips on your skin were like warm fluttering butterfly wings, slowly bringing you back to the ground.
“I’m here next, okay, baby?” His tender tone didn’t prepare you for how his cock stretched you out.
“Too big,” you muttered, losing every shred of your composure and shame to hiccup those dirty words. “You’re t-too big.”
“Yeah?” He kissed your tears away. “Aren’t you glad I can stretch you out? Give your sweet body some practice when you have to push out our babies?”
His words ignited a flame right in your lower belly—making you cry out when Rensuke started to slip inside your already overflowing hole. Gushes of white streaked your thighs, the other men’s releases staining the bed underneath you.
As you got used to his slightly wider girth, you didn’t expect Kunigami to roll you on your hands and knees. His cock slid back into your waiting heat, the angle making him feel bigger, and stretching you out even more.
But, it also placed you face to face with the other guys who were eyeing you hungrily—none more so than Reo.
One thick hand wound the hair around the nape of your neck to snap your head up, keeping you firmly in place to watch the lust dancing in their eyes.
“You really should see how fucking sexy you look, baby,” Chigiri hummed, those bright eyes latched onto the spot where you and Kunigami were connected. “We could eat you whole—you fucking little slut.”
“So pretty,” Reo cooed, and Nagi nodded in agreement.
The lilac-haired man got bold enough to stride up to you, perching himself on the edge of the bed where your swinging tits were mesmerising him.
“Raise her up a little bit, Ren.”
Kunigami obeyed Reo’s orders, settling on his haunches and bringing you up with one arm securely snug around your neck. Your tinier hands fluttered to the thick trunk of his forearm as if trying to pry him off, the breath in your lungs knocked out by Rensuke’s headlock.
But, whatever bit of oxygen you managed to inhale from Kunigami’s loosening hold was taken away as Reo leaned forward to kiss and suck your tits. He massaged the neglected one with one hand, his lips busy toying with your right nipple. You watched with bated breath as his tongue caressed the hardening flesh, the firm suction of his lips on the vulnerable flesh sending pangs of pleasure straight to your core.
You cried out, throwing your head back to bump Rensuke’s chin. He grunted, and shifted his arm a bit so he could grasp your neck instead, holding you steady as his cock wrecked you and Reo’s mouth on your tits continued driving you insane.
“She’s drooling,” Nagi drawled, catching their attention.
Every eye zeroed in on your blissed-out face, your mouth parting and a little bit of spit dripping past your chin. Kunigami chuckled, breathless and almost feral when he leaned forward to sloppily make out with you.
The sound of wet lips smacking on each other and a big cock stirring you closer to another orgasm made every man in the room throb—even those who had already come. Every footballer was thinking of the numerous ways he could bend you over and fuck you hard until you squirted all over them; each of their mind’s eye tainted with your sweet moans and even sweeter release.
You gave a short scream, your orgasm catching everyone off guard when you almost folded forward if it wasn’t for Reo catching you. Your body was shuddering like someone had tasered you—a pure scream of pleasure rebounding across the thin walls.
Reo held you as you sobbed, your release triggering Kunigami’s own orgasm. More warmth filled you up and you had lost track of how many men had already came in you; your brain a complete mush with no solid thoughts in it.
Like clockwork, another cock filled you—this time it was Reo’s again—and your mouth was stuffed with someone else's length. You were dragged into a cowgirl position by Reo who let Nagi mount you from the back, both of their lengths taking turns pistoning into your stretched out heat.
“Disgusting,” someone muttered in disdain over the sounds of two men concurrently fucking one woman. Neither of you cared, and you were pulled into a sloppy makeout session with Nagi as Reo continued sucking and licking your already reddened nipples.
Every part of your orifice was swollen, but you still took Chigiri without complaint when it was his turn. You were already like jelly at this point, your entire body sagging on the bed and going numb from the neverending pleasure.
Thankfully, he was quicker, cumming into you within minutes, and kissing you on the forehead afterwards. Your hole was stuffed to the brim with white hot cum, and you thought you couldn’t take anymore until you felt Bachira sliding behind you, hitching your thighs up.
“Hey, Princess,” the golden-eyed menace cooed. “Did you think we would forget about you?”
You felt the bed dip, and Isagi’s face swam in your vision. He came closer to give you a kiss, and his lips felt like a soothing balm on a hot day.
“Yoichi,” you whispered, eyes heavy and body already close to shutting down from exhaustion. “M’so tired.”
“I know, pretty girl, I know,” the dark-haired man whispered. “But, Meguru and I haven’t had our turn with you yet. It would be unfair if we didn't, right?” He gently stroked your cheek, voice saturated with fake sympathy. “You wouldn’t want us to not fuck you after you’ve already taken everyone’s cock, right? You’re not that cruel to deny us, are you, baby?”
“Fucking twisted weirdo,” you heard another person quip. But, you were too far gone to stop the collision of his lips on yours, that skilled mouth drinking away all of your complaints.
As he distracted you, Bachira slipped his thick and veiny cock right into your waiting cunt, his groan low and erotic against your shoulder.
“How’re you still so wet and tight after so many rounds?” He nipped your shoulder in frustration, setting a pace that rutted your body back and forth on the soft sheets. “You’re a fucking nympho, baby—so needy for our cocks.”
“Shut up,” you groaned in between Yoichi’s hot mouth pressing onto yours. You tried to squirm away to get back some of your lost breath, but Isagi refused to let you part from his lips. He chased after you, mouth sealing over yours again and again as you tried to twist your head this way and that.
Strings of spittle clung to both of your chins, and that sick part inside of you which wanted more pushed the voice of common sense in your head out of the way—making you fall head over heels for Yoichi’s mouth on yours. You kissed him back with as much hunger and zeal as your tired body could muster, pushing your boundaries right to the very edge.
Isagi’s ego fed heartily on your submission, greedily taking everything you gave him.
By the end of this sloppy makeout session, your lips were tingling, and Bachira had already come inside of you—getting off to the sight of his best friend and the girl they were sharing stuck in an intimate lip lockdown.
The last man to take you was drawing it out. He took your face in his hands, nudging you free from Bachira’s grasp and rolling you into his arms.
“Out,” Isagi commanded, in a tone that broke no argument. “Leave me and Y/N alone.”
The rest of the guys began to grumble, but one sharp glare from the terrifying striker was enough to quiet everyone down. Indisputably, Yoichi ran the show, and his ego was bigger than any of theirs combined—the lesser knew when to give way to someone who could devour them without regrets.
Everyone turned to leave, and the last one was Rin who hovered by the doorway, unwilling to abandon you to Yoichi’s devices. The other dark-haired man shot his nemesis a frigid stare that could’ve frozen over Hell’s fires.
“Out, Itoshi.”
The younger man countered his superior’s glare with a mutinous one of his own.
“Who’s to say you won’t hurt her?” Rin’s nostrils flared, flickering his gaze to your closed eyes and limp body. “We can’t trust you with her.”
Isagi snorted. “If you want to watch, be my guest. I’ll fuck her so good she’ll forget about you assholes.”
The competition was on, and you were the final prize for these men to win. But, it wasn’t just your body they wanted—each of them fought to secure your womb so it would grow their fruits and give them the family they dreamed of.
You were their greatest treasure, and they would go to the ends of the earth to make sure you were safe—even watching the other men to make sure none of them would hurt you.
Isagi was a packaged dynamite waiting to blow; he was too unpredictable and Rin would hate himself if he pushed you too far or injured you in any shape or form. He planted himself against the wall, arms folded across his chest while those searing teal eyes watched you gasp and preen for Isagi’s attention.
The dark-haired man was playing with your clit, using the dirtiest tactic to rile you up so you would explode in pleasure for him. His mouth was toying with your swollen nipples, and Rin winced when he bit on the tender nub, earning your shriek. It didn’t take a genius to see you were hanging on the tether of your sanity, and with your body already keyed up to the hundreds, your next orgasm was sure to leave you delirious.
Your small hands wound up in his hair, holding him close despite the excruciating pleasure. If Yoichi was the current wrecking you apart, he was also the life buoy you clung on to as your body coasted on the unending pleasure.
“I don’t even need to make you wet, baby,” he breathed right into the shell of your ear, gripping your hips hard. “You’re already so stretched out for me.”
Your breathing caught, a hitched moan echoing around the room when he sank deep into your heat with little to no prep. Isagi kissed you on your lax mouth, and tasted your tears right on his tongue.
“You okay, baby?” He forced your face to his, and your eyes fluttered open. All you could give was a tired nod, and he grinned down at you. “Okay. Are you ready?”
You nodded again, and that was when another person caught your attention. “Rin?”
“M’here,” the other dark-haired striker murmured, his eyes softening with fondness when you smiled at him. “I’ll make sure you get your rest afterwards.”
You hummed, and the idea of knocking off to sleep sounded so good, your eyes had already slipped close.
“Hey—focus on me, sweetheart.”
Isagi’s hand around your neck squeezed down, cutting off your air supply. You gasped and sputtered, eyes rolling wide open. His grin was feral, touched with a hint of insanity. “Good girl. Now, watch me fuck you, sweetheart.”
He pushed your back onto the pillows, and your eyes instantly went to where you both were connected. Isagi’s pretty cock was smeared with your juices and the other men’s cum, the sight alone so filthy it made your cheeks flush.
“‘Ichi,” you hiccuped, going dumb on every stroke of his heavy cock against your velvet walls. “I-I’m close.”
Your pussy fluttered around his length, the overstimulation touching you like a livewire. He rolled his hips into yours, the sloppy sounds of your pussy getting him higher than any risky goal. There was a reason he went last, and it was because he wanted to savour the sounds you were making; the way your pretty eyes went all glassy and hazy just for him.
Isagi loved you so fucking much, he swore he couldn’t breathe when you started to chant his name.
“‘Ichi, ‘Ichi,” you gasped out, twisting in his grip, your back arching. “K-Kiss me, ‘Ichi.”
He obliged you, ignoring the jealous presence waiting right in the wings, waiting for him to fuck up. But, Isagi was gentle with you. He tenderly planted hot, open-mouthed kisses onto your parted lips, drinking in your sweet whines and mewls of desperation. Isagi himself wasn’t in control of his body; that was the effect you had on him.
You drove him crazy with your supple love and beautiful smiles. Everytime you looked at him, it felt like he had been shot right in the chest. Yoichi was so, so crazy for you, and luckily for him, your feelings were the same.
He let Rin get an eyeful of you licking his lower lip, your treacherous side coming to light when you blatantly showed off your preference for the unassuming striker. The other man looked like he was swallowing shards of concrete, his expression twisted in disgust. But, Isagi had already given him an out and Rin didn’t want to take it—he was stuck with the consequences of his actions.
“Yoichi,” you sighed out his name, all stickily sweet in your high-pitched moan. “I love you, ‘Ichi.”
“Yeah?” Isagi grunted, your little confession going straight to his burgeoning ego. “Say it louder, baby. Tell the whole world what you feel for me.”
“I love you,” your gasp of pleasure when he changed the angle of his driving hips fed the monster inside of him. “I love you!”
“Fuck,” Isagi bit down on your neck, leaving behind a mark for the other men to see. Rin’s own marks were on your shoulders and breasts, but Isagi had gone one step further to make his impression on the tender skin between your neck and jaw—right above your pulse point. It was so every beat of your heart echoed with his imprint and every time any of the boys looked at you, they were reminded of who you loved the most.
“‘Ichi,” you gasped out, and your stuttering hips told Isagi you were already close. Your thighs tensed around him, and he fueled your unravelling further by rubbing on your clit with his rough thumb, the action making you jerk and gasp like you had been electrocuted.
“Yoichi… ‘Ichi… Yoichi!” you cried out his name as your body gave one final push—your release slamming into you with the force of a thousand brick walls, dragging you straight into darkness.
You thought you might’ve died in this instance. Your entire body felt too heavy, and you could physically hear every beat of your heart.
Someone was holding you tightly to his chest, his lips peppering gentle kisses on your face. You pried your eyes open after what felt like two hours trying to recollect your bearings, only to find a pair of teal eyes gazing down at you in worry.
“Baby?” Rin’s voice was soft and unintrusive. He let you get used to the bright light of a warm afternoon—watching you stretch yourself and ease your muscles.
“What time is it?” you asked in a thick voice. Staring down your body, someone had cleaned you up and dressed you in Kunigami’s oversize t-shirt and Rin’s boxers. You felt refreshed and well-taken care of, your entire heart swelling eight times its size to fit your love for every man in there.
Rin leaned forward and you caught his face with your shaky palms, caressing those defined cheekbones.
“You slept for almost an hour. Bachira thought you had died.”
You stifled a giggle, tracing your thumbs over the shape of his mouth. Rin let you pull him in for a kiss, and like the worrywart he was, he didn’t deepen it, not wanting to give into the insatiable lust humming in his veins.
If you thought one horny, touch-starved man was a handful, you hadn’t expected the other seven to come through the door and pile up on the bed, each of them clamouring to cuddle you.
You giggled when Nagi tripped over Reo to snuggle up on your left side, only to be stopped by Bachira who literally yanked the taller man out of the way to steal his place. In the end, you took turns cuddling with each man, their deep sigh of relief that things had turned out great and not as weird as they thought, fed right into your relaxed soul.
As sunlight streamed in through the blinds, the outside world may be in an upheaval, but within these four walls, you were as safe as you could be in your favourite football team’s arms.
©️lalunanymph, 2023
jealousy. | slytherin boy headcanons

author’s note: im completely unhinged, as always. no surprise there. love me some angry snake men🥵 please enjoy.

-your boyfriend sees another guy flirting with you in the hall.
Draco Malfoy.
Sees you from down the hall as he’s walking with his friends.
“You know what, guys, I’ll catch up with you after.”
Would literally ditch his friends to make his way over, collecting himself as saunters up to you and mystery man.
Would instantly grab your ass, no hesitation, grip firm enough to bruise. When you gasp, caught off guard, he’d shift his arm up and around your shoulder, pulling you against him.
“What’re we talking about?” He’d sneer.
His voice would be laced with feign interest, smirking down at you with blaring eyes before shooting daggers at the boy.
He’d simply chuckle at you when you tell him nothing, just school stuff, leaning down to place a possessive kiss on your cheek as he grabbed your hand.
“Wonderful. let’s head to class, yeah?”
He’d pull you away from that dude, shooting him another look meant to kill, a silent warning not to fuck with him.
Finally gets you alone in an empty corridor or bathroom; would waste literally no time at all before pushing you against the wall and grabbing your neck/jaw.
“Who the fuck was that, hm?”, “he was practically eye-fucking you…give me five good reasons why i shouldn’t have him expelled or hexed into bloody Azkaban.”
He’d be furious, but he’d also know that you’d never choose some other guy over him, so he’d soften once he hears the innocence in your tone.
“You’re mine, princess,” he’d loosen his grip, kissing you softly. “Say it.”
Blaise Zabini.
Was listening to music while walking down the hall, instantly rips out his headphones the second he sees you laughing a little too hard with some dude he doesn’t know.
He doesn’t necessarily stop walking, but he’d definitely slow his pace, kind of just watching, not wanting to interfere but also not wanting to look creepy stalking you from a distance.
When the guy doesn’t leave, he’d tired of waiting, saying “fuck it”, before marching over naturally.
This man is so fucking cool calm and collected he’d just saunter right up and join in, making himself at home.
He’d practically take over the conversation because he’s literally just that chill in every situation, seamlessly fitting right in, so fucking charming and loved by everyone.
You’d kind of just end up staring at him, smiling in silent awe, knowing that this was his way of asserting his place, letting the guy know what the fuck was up.
After the dude leaves he’d just causally look at you, smirking that charming smirk, wetting his lips as he hooked an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, leaning down for a kiss.
“Ain’t no one getting you without getting me too, babygirl.” He’d murmur against your lips. “let that be known, right now, forever, always.”
Lorenzo Berkshire.
Would literally stop everything. The second he’d see you laughing and smiling he’d be completely unable to focus on anything else and would completely zone out of any conversations with his friends.
Would get like super anxious and flustered pretty much immediately.
Wouldn’t want to intrude so he’d just kind of hang back, wait for you against the wall and try not to stare too much.
His adorable little cheeks would flush, and he’d know he seemed utterly ridiculous so he’d try to busy himself with his shoelace or something while he waits.
You’d quickly cut off the conversation and move over to him, instantly being able to tell that he’s overthinking.
He’d smile at you, though you could still see the concern on his features.
“Who was that guy, darling?”
You’d tell him he was just a friend from class, no one special at all, pulling him in for a hug and giving him a quick smoochie on the cheek.
“Don’t worry enz, no one could ever take your place.”
He’d blush, trying to play it off. “Sorry love, I know you’re my girl.”
You’d take his hand, squeezing him hard, never wanting him to doubt that for a second. “Only yours baby, forever.”
Mattheo Riddle.
“Who the fuck-“
Would literally whip his bag at Theo, hastily shoving through the crowded hallway with blazing eyes, tunnel visioned as he tried to figure out where the fuck this dude found the audacity.
You wouldn’t even have to turn around to know he’s there, you’d be able to literally feel the anger radiating off of him.
You’d already know exactly where this was heading, but you’d also know there was no attempting to stop him because it’s pointless. Everyone in the school knows that.
Matty does what Matty wants, and right now, he wants to fuck up this guys face for even thinking about flirting with you.
You’d simply look up at him, noting his tensed jaw and his dark eyes as he glances between you and the dude, before fixing back on you, wetting his lips before he says,
“Is this fucker bothering you?”
Unable to help it, you’d smirk, shaking your head as you calmly attempted to talk him down.
“No Matty, he just asked if he could borrow my study notes-“
He’d heard more than enough.
“Study notes? Yeah, I don’t fucking think so,”
Without giving the guy a chance to react, he’d reach for his collar, shoving his back against the wall, teeth barred and face contorted in a snarl as he’d hiss:
“Bother my fucking girlfriend again and the only study notes you’ll need are the ones on how to drink out of a fucking straw, understand?”
Not interested in the response, he’d shove the guy away, eyes softening instantly as he moved back over to you, thrusting a hand through your hair as he kissed you like it’d been a hundred years, right in the middle of the hall for everyone to see.
And judging by the intensity in his grip, you’d already know, later that night, he’d be extra fucking sure to ask you who the fuck you belong to while he’s fucking you.
When he finally pulled back, he’d smirk at you. “Some bloody nerve on that guy, huh?”
You’d just shake your head and laugh, taking his hand as the two of you headed for class.
Theodore Nott.
He’d spot you from down the hall, his eyes instantly narrowing, gaze darting around as though he was missing something, as though this was some sort of sick joke.
Surely, this dude is mentally unwell, right? There’s no fucking way that he’s-
Doesn’t bother to think about it for even another fucking second, instantly shoving through the crowd to make his way over.
Proceeds to wrap his arm around your waist, other hand finding your jaw and pulling your lips to his before you could even process it.
Would proceed to full-on make out with you in front of the dude, and I mean tongue and all, his grip on your jaw so tight you’d know exactly what he was trying to do.
His hand around your waist might even slip lower, grazing over your ass, and then that’s when you’d attempt to gather yourself and push him back, completely embarrassed.
He’d just shrug, smirking down at you before he’d finally acknowledge the guys’ presence with literally nothing more than a glare meant to kill.
“Move along,” he’d say to the guy while pulling you away, grip tighter than ever. “This one’s fucking taken.”
As soon as he got you alone he’d be damn sure to remind you that you’re his, and only his, making you beg and whine his name before he fucked you like you deserved the pain.
Tom Riddle.
“AVADA KEDA-“
Lowkey kidding but not really.
No one would even dare because that man would make it clear as fucking day what would happen if they tried.

Last Man Alive:
Table of Contents

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
Part 11
Part 12
Part 13
Part 14
Part 15
Part 16
Part 17
Part 18
Part 19
Part 20
Part 21
Part 22
Part 23
Part 24
Part 25
Part 26
Part 27 (finale)
Meme
Playlist
MY BELOVED !
— they recognize one of the zombies as their girlfriend

pairing! aouad men x f! reader
warnings! zombies, blood, death, angst, swearing, hurt/no comfort, violence
note! this sat in my drafts for over a month 😭 i'm really sorry for not writing these days, school has been giving out tons of work lately and exams 😐 just happened a few weeks ago. writer's block added up to my problems too 🙄

LEE CHEONG-SAN
cheong-san and su-hyeok were fighting the zombies trying to get near them as the others attempted to open the rooftop's door when suddenly a familiar face came into view, cheong-san froze when he saw yoon gwi-nam holding his now infected girlfriend by the collar of her uniform, he turned to the group who was trying to open the door as he tried to convince himself that he's just hallucinating.
but luck wasn't on his side as he didn't spot her, while gwi-nam smirked devilishly "what kind of boyfriend are you? leaving your girlfriend there to turn into one of them" the bully says as the other man's breath hitched, this caught the attention of the rest of the group, as they all turned around to see y/n in gwi-nam's hold.
gwi-nam threw the girl towards cheong-san as she tried to bite her boyfriend, gwi-nam squatted beside them and pushed y/n's head close to cheong-san's neck while he tried to take cheong-san's eye.
y/n was suddenly pulled back by su-hyeok causing her to get thrown towards the wall, su-hyeok was about to throw her off when cheong-san stopped him "NO! DON'T YOU DARE HURT HER YOU ASSHOLE! GIMME HER" cheong-san attempted to take his girlfriend out of his friend's grasp but it was no use as gwi-nam suddenly pulled cheong-san back towards him "YOUR SWEET LITTLE Y/N IS NOW DEAD! SO JUST GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING EYE ALREADY" su-hyeok took the opportunity and threw her back into the crowd of zombies
HAN GYEONG-SU
it happened in the science lab. when they all entered and he locked the door, he went to hug his girlfriend but to his surprise she wasn't there. looking around he didn't see a glimpse of her at all
"hey hey- where the hell is y/n?!" everyone panicked at his words and began to look around and even under the tables "crap. fuck...fuck fuck fuck she's not here"
he turned around to the door's window and there he got a glimpse of his grey hoodie that she borrowed in the morning. gyeong-su felt his heart drop when he saw the heart shaped necklace dangling around the zombie's neck, it was the necklace he gave y/n for her birthday.
he walked towards the door and put his hand against the glass, tears that he was trying so badly to hold back were now starting to fall "y/n...i'm sorry. i'm sorry for not protecting you. i'm sorry for breaking our promise" the group stared at him with sadness filling their eyes
"cheong-san...will you do me a favor?" he asked while his hands slid down the door's 'handle' making his best friend panic "hey! what the hell are you planning?!"
gyeong-su shook his head as a bittersweet chuckle left his lips "i'm going for y/n ok? you...survive with the others! so do me a favor and close the door as quick as you could" he smiled before opening the door just big enough for him to be able to get out but not enough for the zombies to go in
everything happened so quickly that cheong-san didn't even get a chance to speak but the last thing they saw was gyeong-su hugging y/n as the girl and other zombies bit him and while all that happened, gyeong-su was smiling as he pressed a kiss on his infected girlfriend's forehead
LEE SU-HYEOK
su-hyeok was holding cheong-san from behind to prevent him from running towards his infected mother but his grip weakened when he saw a familiar bracelet on the floor
completely forgetting the situation they're in, he takes the bracelet in his grasp and examines it and sure enough it belonged to his girlfriend. he stood up and looked around, hanging onto the last thin string of hope that his girl, the love of his life was still alive
but that string snapped when he turned around and saw a bloodied oh so familiar looking female zombie walking towards him, she's still pretty, that's the first thing that came to his mind when he saw her walking towards him
while the group was distracted and no other zombie seemed to noticed them he slowly walked towards y/n's figure, she attempted to bite him but someone suddenly hit her at the back of her head which startled him
when y/n's body fell he saw nam-ra holding a pipe, their class president leaned down and was about to break y/n's neck but su-hyeok stopped her from doing so
"don't" he exclaims and pulled nam-ra away from y/n's figure that was starting to stand once more, confusion was evident in nam-ra's face "spare her. we'll leave her here just- just don't kill her" su-hyeok says and pushed nam-ra to join the rest of the group that was now starting to run up the hill
a few zombies were starting to get near them but he took y/n's bracelet that fell on the ground and gave his infected girlfriend one last glance before running up the hill "i'm so sorry for not protecting you my love" he mutters to himself
YOON GWI-NAM
gwi-nam took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of blood and corpses. he looked around watching his infected schoolmates and classmates walk around the field, looking for something to eat
he laughed but when he heard a scream echo from the bathroom he felt as if he forgot how to breath, normally this won't affect him. he'd either laugh about how stupid the person is for screaming or run towards the sound to quench his thirst
but no, he didn't do any of those because the voice sounded awfully familiar and he didn't like it. not one bit.
slowly, he walked towards the bathroom.
"y/n?" he hears a thud along with soft growls which made him more worried than he already was. though it seemed impossible, he still had a small and thin string of hope
he was lost in trance, scared to go inside the female's restroom. but his train of thoughts were interrupted when someone bumped into his chest which caused him to look down, worry once again engulfing his body when he remembered what he went here for
his heart fell upon seeing her, his girlfriend.
she didn't deserve any of this. the world really is cruel. his first love, the first person who made him feel loved and appreciated had to experience all this torture while he just had to be lucky enough to be able to live.
sure, he felt happy being able to survive but what was he supposed to do? who was he supposed to protect? who was he supposed to love?
"why didn't i find you sooner, i'm a selfish bastard ain't i love?" he mutters to y/n who was plainly staring up at him after a few failed attempts of trying to go out of the restroom. he watched y/n stroll away, walking around the bathroom while he pushed the culprit that bit his beloved out of the room before shutting the door close.
he sat down and watched her walk around mindlessly, his head dropped down as tears started streaming down his blood stained face "fate is such a dangerous fucking game"
OH JOON-YEONG
due to the group being in such a hurry when entering the music room they failed to notice the two zombies inside, one being under the piano while the other was trapped to the corner by a table, cabinet and a few chairs
they were talking about what they were going to do with nam-ra. however while the others were arguing whether to kill her or let her stay, joon-yeong got distracted when he noticed the curtain that was somehow hanged in the corner slowly being pulled down
"hey guys- the curtain is-" his words caught the attention of the others but he stopped mid-sentence when the curtain fell. his mouth felt dry, shock engulfing him. it felt as if he was dumped with ice cold water when he remembered that his girlfriend ran after na-yeon, along with ms.park
the others were confused when joon-yeong's expression changed from being shocked, sad then irritated
there were tears in his eyes but the anger and irritation he felt for himself for allowing y/n to go out and na-yeon for probably killing his girlfriend
the others turned to look at where joon-yeong's gaze was, all of them practically turning into ice when they saw their now infected friend trying to get out of the restrains
nam-ra stood up and took a few steps near y/n. her breath hitched when she managed to smell na-yeon's scent from y/n's clothing
"na-yeon...she killed y/n" nam-ra confirms joon-yeong's suspicion making the said boy ruffle his hair out of frustration with tears streaming down his face as he did
it felt as if he was going nuts. he didn't know if it was from the pain or anger but he was sure that he wanted to kill someone and make their loved ones feel the exact pain he felt at the moment
JANG WOO-JIN
"i'm sorry" ha-ri says, she hugged her brother who was sobbing his heart out as he refused to believe what he just saw. his friends watched with sadness, they knew how much y/n meant to woo-jin considering how he never really stopped talking about her
woo-jin sobbed, memories with y/n replaying in his mind especially the last memory he spent with her
"WOO-JIN!" y/n yelled cheerfully when she spotted her boyfriend enter the gym, some of her teammates teased her while the others whined about wanting a supportive boyfriend as well
y/n just laughed at them and ran towards her boyfriend
"did you eat already?" she asked as she wrapped her arms around woo-jin's neck, the man nodded and raised a plastic bag near her face which contained her favorite beverage, a bottle of water and her favorite snack
woo-jin kissed her nose before her lips "here, i know you haven't yet" y/n lets go of woo-jin as she took the plastic from her boyfriend "thank you!" she exclaims
"don't go too hard on yourself alright? i have to get back to the classroom before class starts" he says, y/n nods with a smile. she was about to go back to her team but she noticed woo-jin staring at her with a mocking pout
she laughed and playfully rolled her eyes before kissing the man who did not hesitate to kiss back, they stayed like that for a couple of seconds before pulling away "love you" she whispers "love you too" and with that he walked back to his classroom with a smile
"what if...i stayed? what if i stayed here then maybe she would be safe in here!" he says between sobs, ha-ri could only stare at him. she wanted to tell him not to blame himself but she knew that her brother was too stubborn to listen to her because, he only listents and calms down when y/n assures him, she thought to herself as a tear made it's way down her cheeks
YANG DAE-SU
one of the things they didn't need during this kind of situation was to argue with someone but here they are arguing with coach kang
when coach kang caught a glimpse of dae-su he laughed mockingly before pointing at the student "you! you're- what's her name? AH! y/n, y/n l/n. you're her boyfriend right?" dae-su nodded, a sudden rush of worry and suspicion washing over him when coach kang mentioned her name
"what did you do to her?!" on-jo asked almost immediately which made coach kang smirk "oh nothing..i just bumped into her while she was running around the halls, looking for her lovely boyfriend"
it felt as if cold water had been poured down on him, he had had forgotten something in the classroom which is why he came back leaving y/n to wait for him in the cafeteria but it seemed that she ran out the moment she noticed some students acting weird
and after a few seconds of trying to process the situation the last bit of hope he had left when his friends didn't allow him to come out of the classroom the moment he entered as they assured him that y/n would be somewhere safe nearly snapped
"some boyfriend are you" coach kang mocked before his nose started to bleed, although he was already in the process of becoming a zombie it seemed that he was really determined to get into his students' heads as he said a few more words that could snap the students' string of hope
coach kang pointed at the door "look" they turned to where he was pointing at "it's her" and there revealed a teary eyed y/n but a look of relief was present on her face when her eyes came in contact with dae-su's
they quickly took the chairs and tables away from the door as coach kang started to turn before he bit min-ji on her lip. with cheong-san blocking coach kang, dae-su had to hold min-ji back from running towards their friends
dae-su threw min-ji to the ground before running towards the open door and dragging y/n along with them before she could protest. y/n's vision turned red making her halt, upon hearing a few growls that were getting near them at an awfully quick pace she placed a peck dae-su's lip before letting go of his hand
"stay safe for me ok?"
fear once again washed over him "what?"
"promise to stay safe for me" she repeated with a bittersweet smile as she pulled her sleeve up slightly to reveal the bite mark on her lower arm
"DAE-SU! Y/N! COME ON TO THE SCIENCE LAB!" woo-jin and joon-yeong yelled as they quickly walked down the stairs, y/n smiled and showed them the bite mark before running down the stairs and distracting the zombies that were on their way up
dae-su wanted to refuse, he didn't want to believe what was going on but with y/n shooting him a smile from down the stairs before completely becoming one of the infected he knew he had no choice
in the science lab, dae-su stared down at his fingers as y/n's words replayed in his head
promise to stay safe for me she didn't even ask it, it was more like she demanded it. he nodded to himself before he lets out a breath and he never breaks his promises. no wonder why y/n told him to promise, so he wouldn't give up

© c0rpsefairii on tumblr | do not steal, copy, translate or repost
polarity | 01 yandere!jungkook au

pairing: yandere!jungkook x reader {f}
genre: yandere
warnings: 18 + , unhealthy behavior, toxic relationships, cheating, manipulation, mentions of mental health (mc has pretty bad social anxiety) (TW: non-con touching)
word count: 4.6k
summary: Your best friend’s new boyfriend becomes infatuated with you..
Playlist
Parts: 01 | 02 | 03 | ❅ CS | 03 JK | 04
Her glossy tinted lips stared back at her, raising her hand to touch up her last bit of makeup. Eunji was gorgeous , not like she needed much to make her stand out. But it wasn’t the good looks you admired about your friend, it was the oozing charisma she carried everywhere. Truly, you thought even if she wasn’t blessed with good looks, she’d still have every guy at her feet. Or anyone for that matter. It was just the aura she possessed. She pulled away from the small mirror she had in her hand, raising an eyebrow towards you.
“You’re gonna love him.” She promised, and you shook your head. Eunji had said that about each one of her past boyfriends, but still each one didn’t manage to impress you much. For such a pretty girl, your friend seemed to love complete bums. A shame really.
“As long as you like him..” You trailed off, uncertainty clear in your tone. You two both sat at the corner of a small cafe that was located near your apartment complex, La Belle. The place was slow today, oddly enough but the silence was comforting enough for the both of you. You figured that was soon about to change since you weren’t the type to look forward to meeting strangers.
“Y/n I’m serious, I really like him. He’s perfect in every way.” Eunji insisted, leaning forward against the small table in between you two. “ Plus, he’s really hot.”
You rolled your eyes, smiling at your friend’s descriptions. As far as you knew, the guy came from a pretty wealthy background which already meant he wasn’t like the usual guys she went for. He was a bit older too, Eunji never specified his job , just that he worked in the same company as his father. You figured it must have been a family business.
Weiterlesen
Meant to be mine
Excuse me for the horrible smut
Tags: Soft dark!Jace OC, mentions & descriptions of parent abuse, character death (poison), childhood to lovers. EXPLICIT: Titty sucking, breeding kink (if you squint), creampie, tummy bulge (mention) Jace really taking after his parents

The dragon runs in his blood. Jace won’t give you up for anything, even if your hands belong to another.
To marry well. A constant reminder of your obligations as a lady. Prepare to be disappointed. It’s rare for love to blossom in such unions. Marriage is a trade more than anything-whether it’s for a shipping fleet or an ally. How foolish of you to think your fate would differ from any lady.
How you’ve dreamed of having your ‘protected’ cloak placed around your shoulder to be the sigil of a three-headed dragon. Anticipating facing the man you’ve known for years. Instead, your ‘protected’ cloak’s sigil is one of a golden lion and your wedding vows are exchanged with another.
Before the feast could begin, the doors opened, and everyone turned. Seeing the royal family ascend made your breath catch in your throat. They weren’t invited. You were certain otherwise their upcoming presence would have been the talk around. Casting a quick glance over your shoulder, seeing your father’s enraged face. Jakob Lannister, your newly husband, looked stunned.
Keep reading
Yandere Head Canons:
Sacrificial Bride
Yandere Dragon Shifter x Princess Reader
TW: Yandere behavior, manipulation, Somniaphilia (suggested), delusional yandede, complacency, etc.



Feroc the Ferocious was the kind of dragon who would bring any silly knight to their knees. The kind of dragon that inspired legends and stories to be written in books. The kind of dragon that was larger than any castle human like could ever dream to build. The kind of dragon that could decimate a kingdom with a single breath of his fiery flames if he was angered… the dragon that your own people sacrificed you, the princess, to in order to save themselves from his wrath.
And so they bound you up and threw you before him. Your own father on his knees as he begged the great dragon for mercy in exchange for his own flesh and blood… the kingdom’s most prized beauty in exchange for peace. An offer Feroc quickly accepted before the king could utter another word!
Dragons collected beautiful treasures! Dragons hoarded their treasure in caves and abandoned castles fad from prying eyes… and unbeknownst to you, Feroc found you to be rhetorical most beautiful
For dragons, a sacrificial spouse was an ancient tradition and this was the first time he’d been offered such a perfect bride! How could he refuse you? Especially when your own people begged him so prettily? Would you beg for him just as beautifully one day?
And so you were scooped up in his ginormous talons and carried away in the sky to a lone tower deep in the mountains. Your new home… your home with Feroc.
You could recall how scared of him you used to be. You’d heard from many people of how this giant scaled beast before you was a man eater. Of how he swallowed many knights in his time… yet this dragon seemed so shy from your experience so far. Skittish even.
Feroc often brought you various jewelry and fine silks from his daily raids. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t bring you a gift of some kind. His molten eagerly studied your form despite his persistent silence. Feroc’s company disturbed you as much as it comforted you.
It took a month for him to speak to you. His accent was heavy from the olden tongue he spoke but he knew the same language you spoke. His voice was booming and low, it could easily strike terror in others… but for some reason, his voice calmed you. Perhaps loneliness has finally crept its fangs into your heart? You weren’t sure…
Feroc would bring you anything you wanted to eat. Within means, of course. He’d bring you delicacies he’d likely looted off some poor caravan if you said you wanted sweets. There was no extremes he wouldn’t go to for you, which was odd since he was a dragon who’s been around for hundred of years… why did Feroc have such an interest in a human princess?
One day, you had a nightmare of a man standing in the corner of your room. Your scream in the night quickly alerted your guardian who peaked his large eye in your room in worry.
“Princess? What’s wrong?”
“I just had a nightmare… I thought there was a man in my room.” You wiped the sweat from your forehead while Feroc clicked his tongue.
“No man could ever scale his tower. I’m the only one who can enter. I’d never let anyone harm you.” The red and black dragon grumbled, his molten eyes glanced you once over. “Why? Do you… want a human companion?”
“I do get lonely sometimes.” You admitted to Feroc . His eyes now filled with hurt. “I do enjoy your company but… I miss being able to touch another human.”
Feroc didn’t understand your sentiment. He was a might dragon! The strongest of his kind! Feroc has proven himself to be the best of mates to you and yet you were still displeased? Was it because he was a dragon? Would you be happier if he showed you his other form?
“I’ll figure something out then… get some sleep.”
Feroc now snuck in your bedroom when you slept. He ghosted his clawed fingers over your oblivious form in wonder. His clawed fingers were too sharp, he’d have to dull them more… he didn’t want to cut up his pretty princess!
Feroc’s gentle touches progressed when he noticed how heavy of a sleeper you were. His desire to see what made you human drove him to insatiable heights. No area was left unexplored with his eyes. He needed to be perfect. Feroc had to be compatible with you. You and him were going to have young one day, after all! Feroc didn’t want to harm you in the process!
Feroc was able to mold his body into a perfect man. Once that was the perfect size for you, yet still immense so you’d know it was him. Feroc now stood at a massive seven feet tall rather than the hundred feet of his dragon form.
Yet there was a constant fear within him that you’d die of old age or of natural causes… Feroc knew humans were fragile creatures so he did what he had to. Feroc shared half of his heart with you while you slept. It was a simple spell and a painless procedure for you. One that would benefit the both do you in the long run!
If one of you died, the other would! You’d never age! You now shared a lifespan with him. Feroc couldn’t wait to tell you once the two of you made everything official!
It took another month for him to reveal this perfect form to you. Feroc had to let the excitement die down from sharing his heart with you so you didn’t freak out! Humans were such finicky creatures, after all! And he’d be an awful mate if he frightened you with a subject you had no knowledge on…
All you needed was to see this devilishly beautiful form of his and you’d be bewitched.
“Look at us… we’re so beautiful together.” Feroc whispered into the skin of your shoulder as he admired your reflection beside him. “I think I’ll find you more gold to decorate you with, my treasure.”
“Feroc, I don’t understand.” You jump when Feroc dragged his forked tongue across your exposed shoulder.
“You accepted all of my gifts and you’re the only one who suits me.” Feroc hissed his obsidian eyes flashed a bright gold. “Wouldn’t you rather be by my side than in my stomach?”
You gulped and obediently rested your head on his chest which made him purr in contentment. His muscular arms wrapped around yours as his wavy black hair tickled your skin.
“I’m joking, I’d never eat you.” Feroc smiled before he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “You’re my bride, after all.”
You didn’t need to know about how many knights he’s killed over the last few months for you. Feroc would take care of you until the day the both of you died. Every heinous act he’s ever committed over these last few months we’re all for his beautiful, blushing bride.

℗ poker face
starring - miya atsumu | miya osamu | kozume kenma | kuroo tetsurō | bokuto kotarou | akaashi keiji | sugawara koushi | sawamura daichi | oikawa toorū | iwaizumi hajime | sakusa kiyoomi
summary - as an up and coming youtuber, you thought it would be beneficial to join a content house with your old childhood friend meiko, but as time went by, you realized things were not as they seemed. with only 6 months left on your contract, will your housemates finally open their eyes and see how horribly they’ve been treating you or will you leave with a heavy mind and an even heavier heart?
genre - youtuber!au, college!au, ANGST, ANGST ANGST, literally cannot warn u enough it is so much angst, tiny bit of crack, eventual fluff, eventual choose-your-man endings, enemies to lovers type beat, reverse harem
warnings - TW ATTEMPTED SEXUAL A*SAULT AND ATTEMPTED MURDER, hi yes ANGST, manipulation (not by you to the boys or the boys to you), ur faves are rlly mean at first, swearing, drinking, just everyone sucks but you & atsumu lol, minimal fluff, not soft at first (it takes a minute)
taglist - CLOSED!
status - on hiatus!
profiles 01 || profiles 02
i. lol who asked
ii. not the tyra slander
iii. a crack in the facade
iv. movie night :/
v. evidence. please.
vi. too attached
vii. not helpful
viii. vacation!!!!!
ix. shattered
x. ick
xi. come quick
xii. tell me everything
xiii. talking it out
xiv. k fuck you meiko
xv. cigarettes and tears (tw sexual assault‼️)
xvi. whenever you’re ready
xvii. charmed
xviii. but… why?
xix. try, for him
xx. alone time :)
→ missing screenshots from xx ;-;
xxi. actual murder
xxii. a boy worth fighting for
xxiii. exiled
xxiv. stfu, jesus
xxv. insecurities :(
xxvi. a gift, truly
xxvii. did a number on you,,
xxviii. the yn project
xxix. you are loved :)
xxx. literally shut up iwaizumi
xxxi. walk for me, serve
xxxii. god speed your love to me
xxxiii. ‘bunched panties’
xxxiv. take care of yourself, iwaizumi-san
xxxv. so… this is it
xxxvi. brand new manager-chan
xxxvii. investigation: start!
xxxviii. whatever it takes
xxxix. she’ll be okay
xl. get in losers, we’re going shopping
xli. disruption
xlii. be better
xliii. what you deserve
xliv. ok, go off queen
xlv. intermission
xlvi. can we talk?
xlvii. lemme see the drip
xlviii. frozen
xlix. the least he could do
l. let me be here for you
li. the doctor and the asshole
lii. change for the better
liii. that’s a lil sus
liv. limo karaoke
lv. one way or another
lvi. stress pets
lvii. deflection
lviii. it’s over
lix. not like this
lx. i’ll be just fine
endings!!
miya atsumu - me and my husband
kozume kenma - home
bonus content! below the cut :)
Weiterlesen


HAIKYUU SMAUS
!!! I do not own these. This list is a compilation of x reader works by other writers !!!
constantly updated (I hope)
navigation . . .

COMPLETED
umpah umpah! (bokuto, iwaizumi.)
conspiracy theories (oikawa x reader/semi x reader)
love is not for everyone (suna)
heart's cuts (suna)
stranger danger (bokuto)
I'll follow you until you love me (semi)
on air (atsumu)
if this is it (bokuto)
tiptoes (semi)
telegraph ave (matsukawa, hanamaki)
red flags & long nights (terushima)
meet me in the hallway (suna)
when worlds collide (suna)
figure it out (sakusa)
indirects (suna)
instant boyfriend (suna)
heaven on your lips (matsukawa)
weeb talk (tendou)
caramel frappuccino (sakusa)
swipe left! (suna)

COMPLETED
21. he loves me, he loves me not (oikawa)
22. hit me up, buttercup! (oikawa)
23. joke's on you (oikawa. sequel of hit me up, buttercup!)
24. 17 asterisks
25. station 16 (kuroo)
26. club stupid (suna)
27. vortex (semi)
28. bet you never saw it coming (osamu)
29. let's do it again, shall we? (osamu x reader/iwaizumi x reader. sequel of bet you never saw it coming)
30. breathing blue (kuroo)
31. pose for me (oikawa)
32. music in me (semi)
33. nobody expects the worst (atsumu)
34. poker face (various hq boys)
35. match point (atsumu)
36. you drew stars around my scars (suna x reader/kenma x reader)
37. in the middle (atsumu, sakusa)
38. frenemies (akaashi)
39. now all I see is color (atsumu x reader/suna x reader)

ONGOING
the lovers (various hq boys)
perfect strangers (suna)
nonsense (oikawa)
evanescent (iwaizumi)
thanks a lot, cupid (kenma)
runaway (sakusa)
lovers rock (suna)
girl of my dreams (sakusa)
Yandere Henry Bowers (1/5)

Word count ; 4.0k
*Edited.
Weiterlesen
do you love me?;

synopsis: waking them up at 3am just to ask if they love u. pt 2 here. 3 4
warnings: clingy reader, pet names, slightly suggestive in yuzuha's, but besides that none really! no set timeline. gn!reader. not proofread!
feat: mikey, baji, yuzuha.
a/n: this is so cute in theory, but i would probably fight if this happened to me irl!! anyways, i was sad and wanted to write somethin' cute. also, my first time writing for my yuzuha n i lost my mind.. expect more of her in the future!

mikey:
“manjiro..” you whisper, poking softly at his sleeping face. you knew this was a dumb idea, but sometimes you really just needed to hear it, something that would set your heart at ease. something only mikey could say.
“mm.” is all you get, as you try to rustle him from sleep. he sleeps on his stomach, hair falling around his face like a curtain as his cheek presses against the pillow.
“maaanjiroo.” you try again, voice a little louder this time as you poke his cheek even harder, dragging out the call of his name, giggling as you note the give of his plush skin indenting where your finger marks. so cute and so soft.
“what?” mikey groans, shifting in his dream-like state so that he’s facing away from you, clearly annoyed. he pulls the blanket further over him as he does this, wanting to tune you out. he can’t help it, he’s sleepy.
but you persist, moving closer and wrapping your arms around his covered form, eliciting another noise from him, but this time not so irritated.
“i love you.” you murmur, resting your cheek on his shoulder and peering down at the tufts of blond hair peeking from beneath the fabric. “i love you sooo much, like i wanna explode when i look at you type of love.”
you wait a moment before you pull the blanket down slightly. is he really not gonna say it back? you pull him down, forcing him onto his back. you pout, when you make eye contact with him. drowsy, black eyes peer up into yours with a dust of red on the tops of his cheeks.
“do you love me, mikey?” you whisper, a little hurt he still hasn’t said it yet.
he nods, before he brings his hands up to cup your cheek. “yeah, i love you a lot.” he gives a languid smile and you beam.
“more than anything?” you ask, excitement tinting your voice, mood already brightened.
“yeah.” he yawns, head nodding as he answers your question.
“more than sleep?” you inquire with a tilt of your head that sets mikey’s heart racing.
“mhm.” he hums.
“even taiyaki?” you press, readying the list of his favorite things, other than you of course.
“mm, that one’s kind of a stretch.“ he quips, eyes filled with mirth, lips curling up into a bigger smile.
“hey..” you frown, but mikey continues, pulling you in and hugging you a little harder in his embrace.
“c’mon, let’s sleep. i’m sleepy.” he sighs, slinging his leg over you as he turns to spoon you, making sure you’ll sleep this time.
“okay,” you resign, settling into his warm embrace. it’s not often mikey’s the big spoon, so you try your best to not pester him more. whenever you are like this, it’s snug and comfortable, cozy and reassuring. you close your eyes to try and let sleep take you.
“…but by the way, my babu is really important-“
“mikey!”

baji:
baji had fallen asleep before you, mumbling something about how he’d tell you all about his day with toman tomorrow once he rested up.
but there was something itching in you, something annoying that wracked your brain and crept up on you during the early morning hours like this. you peered over at his sleeping form, one arm flung above his head while the other laid on his midriff. he was snoring pretty loudly and you could see his pearly fangs under the moonlight.
you couldn’t sleep, your insecurity gnawing at you from inside, so you turned to fully face him tapping on his side.
“kei.. wake up,” you mumbled, inching closer to his sleeping face.
unconsciously, the hand that was on his belly flings up to swat you away. there’s no power behind it and it is just an unconscious reaction, but it turns that insecurity into annoyance.
“…oi.” you hiss, but the sound of your voice has his hand flying up again. you scoff, before taking his pointer finger and biting down.
“what the fuck!” he yelps, amber eyes shot open at the pressure. at first he’s confused, but when he glances down he barks a laugh at you, your face contorted in anger as you nibble on him. “let go, dummy, i’m awake.”
he uses his free hand to flick at your forehead and you release. laying your head on his chest, you look up at him, feeling the rise and fall of his body and hearing the beat of his heart.
“so, whatcha want?” he asks, fully awake from your little love bite. baji’s eyes are always soft when he looks at you, like he’s staring at the whole world.
“do you love me?” you ask, pouting and blinking up at him with puppy dog eyes.
baji ponders for a second, before poking your cheek. “do birds fly?”
“seriously, kei!” you whine, shifting up and wrapping your arms around his neck. “do you love me?” you ask with such earnesty that something in baji’s chest blooms, and it blooms with such intensity he can’t help but cup the back of your head and bring you in for a kiss.
his lips on yours are soft and when he pulls away, the grip on your hair lessened, you realize the silliness of your insecurity. but baji wants to make sure you hear it too.
“i love you,” he grins, a finger touching the tip of your nose, “a little too much.”
you smile, little pin pricks of tears lining your eyes and baji groans.
“one minute you’re biting my hand off, the next you’re crying… you make no sense.” he grumbles, playing with your hair in one hand. you hum when he tugs, melting a bit into his embrace. “you good?”
you nod, laying your head back onto his chest, “‘m good.” you sigh as you settle back into place, eyes closing at the feeling of baji’s hand running through your hair. he always knows what relaxes you best, he always knows that each fleeting thought in your head is best subdued with his own affirmations. what a dumb thought to have, of course he loved you. “love you so much, kei.”
“i know.” he continues to play with your hair, fingers intertwining with your locks. he watches you with such warmth, you could say that he was the sun.
“by the way, they don’t all fly,” you smirk, trying to stifle a laugh, “so that question was a little lame.”
his hand pauses and even with your eyes shut, you can see his face contort in confusion. “huh?”
“penguins. kiwis. ostriches. emus. none of those fly.” you snicker, “google it.”
you feel him reach over for his phone on the nightstand. it only takes a few more moments for him to unlock his phone and look it up, but you can’t control your laugh when you hear him groan and say, “are you fuckin’ kidding me?!”

yuzuha:
you were always begging your girlfriend to watch a movie with you. every night without fail, she’d agree, rolling her eyes when you’d suggest a romcom for the nth night in a row. but you always thought yuzuha was so pretty when she laughed, the way her eyes crinkled and she’d look back at you as if to say “did that really just happen?” but there was also the way she'd seek your hand out in the more serious parts of the movie, squeezing wordless affirmations into your veins.
and your heart always skipped a thousand beats when she did. really, watching a movie with her was just an excuse to steal as many glances at her as you wanted as she was too distracted to notice. tonight was no different, the two of you giggling and cuddling away under the blanket.
near the end of the movie, yuzuha had fallen asleep on the other side of the couch, her long strawberry locks cascading over the side of her face as she slept. you sat there, in the dark, watching the end credits when a sudden wave of sadness hit.
it wasn’t the first time she’d fallen asleep on you, and you had fallen asleep on her a couple times as well, but you were still a little somber. you crawl over, wrapping your arms around her and she shifts in her sleep.
“mm?” she blinks with sleep laden eyes, a little upturned smile when she notices it’s you.
“yuzu..” you whisper, burying your face into her neck as her arms come around to hold you.
“what’s up, angel?” she mumbles into your hair, rubbing her cheek against it.
“do you love me?” you ask, still pressed against her neck. your breath fans across her skin and she giggles, telling you “that tickles!” but you huff again, not only from annoyance but because her giggle is like a birdsong.
“yuzuha..” you whine, as she continues to giggle, body trembling. you glance up at her both your faces tinted red, noses so close they’re almost touching, “do you love me?”
“more than you could ever know.” she proclaims and you swear her golden eyes are twinkling. “what about you? do you love me?” she asks, tilting her head a little.
“more than hakkai loves mitsuya… probably.” you tease and she scoffs, before closing the distance and pressing her lips against yours. the two of you continue to press kiss after kiss, even as the movie credits roll to an end and all the light that’s left is the slight illumination from the tv.
you don’t even hear the shuffling of feet across the floor, too immersed in the plushness of yuzuha’s lips against yours. it’s not until you hear a particularly disgusted groan that you pull away, looking up right up at hakkai, holding an empty glass and is slightly turned to face the hallway wall.
“if you’re gonna suck face, can’t you do it in your room sis?” hakkai asks, trying his best to not look at you.
“oops.” she says, blinking up at her brother, “sorry about that.”
you pull off of yuzuha, face heating up in embarrassment. “sorry hakkai,” you say sheepishly, before you feel the tug of your girlfriend’s hand on yours, pulling you up off the couch. she winks at you as you interlock hands, starting the trek back to her room.
WHEN THEY HAVE A CRUSH ON YOU !!

part one | part two | part three
content : gender neutral reader, fluff, not proof read
characters : mikey, mitsuya, baji, sanzu, rindou, ran
notes : ooo i hope y’all like this one i was a nervous to post it hehe :0

˗ˏˋ MIKEY
Weiterlesen
pranking with: i cheated on you. jjk & tokrev im too lazy to list the characters









SEE YOU AGAIN.

in which, you and sanzu are in a very chaotic arranged marriage.

+ pairings. sanzu haruchiyo x f!reader.
+ tags. romance, fluff, heavy (?) angst, modern au, smau, arrange marriage au, college setting, use of profanities, eventual smut, 18+
+ status. on-going
+ official playlist by sanzuchi
+ playlist iby eriskaitto | playlist ii by haruchiyo

+ smau series masterlist.
one ; two ; three ; four ; five ; six ; seven ; eight ; nine ; ten ; eleven ; twelve ; thirteen ; fourteen ; fifteen ; sixteen ; seventeen ; eighteen ; nineteen ; twenty ; twenty-one ; twenty-two ; twenty-three ; twenty-four ; twenty-five ; twenty-six ; twenty-seven more chapters to be added.
profiles and information are below!

Weiterlesen
𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐓 !

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐒, 𝐘𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖?... 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊. 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓."

( IN WHICH ) ↳ the shyest girl in school catches the attention of a friendly hockey player, choso kamo. but what happens when their hasty new relationship swivels into drunken obsessions, intimidating requests, and pure toxicity? ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。 ˚
( A/N ) ↳ this story originally comes from my wattpad, and you can also find it on my ao3. please do not reupload or plagiarize any of my content, ideas, or graphics. you will be blocked without hesitation. this story will be long, it's still in the making at 24k current words! it will, without a doubt, contain explicit sexual content. you have been warned. please be patient, and let me know your thoughts.
( CONTENT ) ↳ 18+ themes, fem!reader, college au, hockey au, explicit nsfw scenes, manipulation, stalking, drugs use, alcohol use, death, drinking, toxic relationships, swearing, loss of virginity, drug smuggling, obsessive themes.
( PAIRINGS ) ↳ hockey player choso x shy fem!reader

( chapters ) ↳
001 // SUKUNA RYOMEN.
002 // HALLOWEEN.
003 // CHERRY POPPED?
004 // AN UNEXPECTED SAVIOR.
005 // THE ART OF PLEASURE.
006 // SWEET TOUCHES.
007 // GLASSES.
008 // DADDY.
009 // DATE.

↻ + ♡ are appreciated. || 𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴
© 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐖
me, a writer, at 3am: WHAT? I CANT FIND THE SPECIFIC FANFIC THAT I MADE UP IN MY MIND WITH A WHOLE PLOT AND ORIGINAL CHARACTERS??? WHO DO THEY THINK THEY ARE??? DO THEY EXPECT ME TO WRITE THE STORY I THOUGHT UP OF???
Bite Marks & Bruises (Roman Godfrey x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, stalking, period sex + consumption, blood, compulsion
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies

summary: Roman Godfrey is spoiled and arrogant and rude...and he gets whatever he wants.
~
Your life was over the first moment you stepped into The Godfrey Mansion.
The dark, gothic, and imposing structure was a staple in Hemlock Grove for as long as you could remember, countless stories being passed around at sleepovers about all manner of horrors and mysteries that probably took place in the home. Tales of shadowy figures and howling wolves and low moaning wails like whispers on the wind. None of it was true, of course, lies made up by overimaginative girls with too much time on their hands, driven to pass around falsities out of an unquenched desire to see what the infamous house was really like.
As you got older, such stories became silly to you, aware that it was just a home like any other owned by some rich woman like any other. All of its intrigue lay in its exclusivity, its secretiveness, and with maturity came the lessening desire to see inside some fancy old home. Even as you walked the halls with its inhabitants—Shelley and Roman Godfrey—the Godfrey mansion was just something you thought about less and less.
Until about six months after you graduated.
…and Olivia Godfrey was offering you substantial compensation to tutor her daughter.
It wasn’t an answer that required a lot of thought on your end. After all, you would be relaxing in a beautiful mansion and helping some seventeen-year-old with her homework while getting paid for it. With no desire—and no money—to jet off to college anytime soon, it seemed like an obvious choice. Those silly stories that you and your friends would tell each other under the cover of darkness behind closed bedroom doors were the farthest thing from your mind.
It was cold the first day you walked to The Godfrey Mansion.
It was the middle of November in Pennsylvania—air biting, leaves crunchy, and breeze gentle. Olivia Godfrey greeted you with a smile, her dark hair looking like midnight against her fair skin. The mother of two didn’t look a day over thirty, and you remembered staring at her, feeling so hypnotized by her beauty and wondering how she was old enough to have two children of graduating age. Her thin statuesque frame swayed gently with her every step, hands gingerly flailing about as she gave you the grand tour.
“All of her tutoring will take place up in her room,” she told you, tone rich and poised. “Shelley is so very particular about her space…and I’m trusting you.”
That last comment was said slowly, and she turned to face you as she said it, hands clasped together as her umber eyes connected with yours. Silence followed, and you didn’t need to be a genius to know what she was getting at. You recalled how the kids at school would treat Shelley, how they would simultaneously fear and torment her. Her daughter was protective of her space, she was protective of her daughter, and she was allowing you access to both.
“I understand,” you eventually forced out, nodding.
It was quick, but her cold visage transformed almost instantly, that ever-polite smile on her pink lips. In no time, Olivia Godfrey had turned back around and was continuing to lead you through the mansion. She droned on about the different rooms, making a point to comment on your chances of getting lost should you need to use the bathroom or something.
“Shelley must get all of her rest as growing teens do, so you won’t be staying all hours of the night, but you will be welcome to join us for dinner should you ever choose to.”
You didn’t know if you’d ever take her up on the offer, but you welcomed the polite invite, nonetheless.
You’d been tutoring Shelley for four days when you finally came face to face with him. Roman Godfrey—tall and spoiled and possessing the kind of face every girl you knew would gush over. You’d been in the same graduating class, but you were sure that you’d never talked to Roman once, not until you were in his house and eating his food, at least. You recalled walking to and from school most days, your gaze catching sight of that bright red convertible.
Since graduating, you didn’t see it as much.
After reuniting in his dining room…you saw it all the time.
“Sweetheart, you remember Y/N, don’t you?” Olivia’s articulate speech filled the air as soon as her son stepped through the threshold. “I believe she graduated with you last year.”
She continued after looking to you for confirmation, smiling at her son when you nodded.
“She’s been tutoring Shelley, and she finally took me up on my offer to join us for dinner.”
The dark-haired teenager didn’t say a word at first, slowly making his way to the table. You had never known Roman to look…bad, always dressed immaculate even while wearing the simplest of things. Shelley—a much more outgoing individual than you’d initially believed—had smiled at her brother with his approach. Their mother had started up an entirely different conversation, one you tried to be involved in, but you felt trapped by Roman’s gaze instead.
If you thought Olivia Godfrey was hypnotizing and entrancing in every way, then Roman Godfrey was absolutely paralyzing.
It was hard to look away from him, trying everything in your power to but failing every time. His dark hair was neat and pushed away from his face, perfect and put together even within the privacy of his home. His green eyes didn’t look so green, and you wondered if it was the lighting in the dining room…or something else entirely. When he finally made himself comfortable next to Shelley and diagonal from you, only then did you find the strength to lower your gaze to your food.
Dinner was a talkative affair, Olivia dominating the conversation with the occasional commentary from her son. She pulled you into the dialogue here and there, but with an oppressing gaze weighing down on you, you felt…restricted. It was purely all in your head, you knew that, but you couldn’t fight the thought that Roman was watching your every move—judging you.
You really could not get out of the house fast enough when dinner was over, hoping that your sudden skittishness was not noticeable. Roman’s gaze was something you felt on you even as you insisted you’d make it home just fine. Olivia didn’t fight you too much on it, and you were grateful, and the darkness that met you was somehow less terrifying than vibrant green eyes. It wasn’t until the next day when you realized that Roman wasn’t judging you, at all.
What he was doing was much worse.
“I really don’t mind walking.”
You told him this as he sat in your driveway, that familiar fancy red car taking up residence in it. The sun was out, and he was wearing shades and a thick jacket that made him appear bigger than he actually was. His jaw slowly moved, some gum in his mouth you presumed, and after a moment or two, he slowly turned his head to stare directly at you. Your eyes briefly glanced at his tapping finger against the wheel.
“You’re tutoring Shelley. Why would I make you walk all the way to our house when it’s not like I have anything better to do, anyway?”
He said it so flippantly, almost like this whole ordeal annoyed him, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say that his mother made him park in your driveway. However, Roman never struck you as the kind of guy to do something he didn’t want to do, so his attitude only served to confuse you. You wrapped your arms around yourself, and although you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew they were fixated on you.
You could feel the heat of them despite the cold air that surrounded you.
After some time of your short impasse, a slow smirk danced along his lips.
“I could always make you…”
His voice was low, and there was something mirthful in his tone, like the idea of dragging you and forcing you into his fancy car was an entertaining one. Something in you told you that he would despite what you wanted to believe, and something else told you that he’d enjoy it very much. With that thought and a sigh, you finally conceded and made your way to his passenger side.
His eyes remained on you the whole way there.
The ride was quiet, the walk from his car to the door even quieter.
Olivia’s voice rang through the house, inquiring as to if that was him coming through the door. The sound of his voice was answer enough, and you looked away from him when he slowly took off his shades.
“…and Y/N.”
Something about the sound of your name coming from his lips unnerved you. It didn’t exactly roll off of his tongue, something mocking in the way he said it, and you stared straight ahead as you walked down the hall in search of Shelley. You didn’t dare look back, afraid of what might be gaining on you.

Roman was the kind of guy that was impossible to ignore. Not only because he was just that imposing, but also because he simply wouldn’t let you. You’d gone to school with him for years, and it wasn’t until you both graduated did you learn that he was needy and constant in his want for attention. He was disturbingly honest, vulnerable to his desire to say the first thing on his mind no matter how inappropriate.
…and he was determined to get what he wanted once he decided he wanted it.
“So what? You didn’t want to fuck off out of this town and go to college or something?”
He asked you one day as you relaxed—as best as you could within his presence, anyway—in the passenger seat of his car. He wasn’t wearing his shades, and you almost missed them when you looked over to meet his green gaze. It was so intense, and there were moments where you were sure that Roman could see right through you.
“Don’t know what I would go for,” you replied, the cold air whipping against your face.
You could feel him looking at you as you stared through the windshield, and you got the feeling that he wanted you to elaborate on that. Even if you did know how to talk to Roman, you still wouldn’t. He made you uncomfortable in ways you couldn’t even explain, and the worst thing you did was allow him to know that.
There always seemed to be some sick pleasure in his eyes, the green of them glinting with something unknown to you. He watched you like a cat would a mouse, a wolf would a deer, a predator fully amusing itself with the prey it had in its line of reach. Only, Roman wasn’t some predator. He was some guy, you reminded yourself, and you were simply some girl.
At worst, you likened Roman to that of an asshole with too much free time on his hands.
The only person spared from that was his sister.
“You’re good with her,” he commented, turning his car off as it sat in your driveway.
Your hand was on the handle, seconds away from exiting the vehicle when he spoke. His voice had startled you, used to the silence of his unwavering gaze as he watched you exit his car and go into the house. You watched him place a cigarette between his lips, the flame from his lighter brightening his face in the night. The smell of smoke followed soon after.
“Shelley,” he explained, exhaling. “You’re good with her. She likes you.”
You glanced away, squirming in your seat when presented with an actual conversation you could have with the rich boy.
“I like her too. She’s very sweet…and…even funny, sometimes.”
You shrugged when he looked at you, pulling another drag, and the longer he stared at you, the more uncomfortable you started to feel. You looked away, gaze falling to your purse at your feet, preparing to grab it and wish him a good night when he spoke again.
“My mother thinks I stare at you too much.”
His words shocked you, and your eyes widened when you looked at him again. He wasn’t looking at you, now, smoking and partaking in his cigarette. Your own lips parted, unsure of how to respond to that, and he took another drag, loudly exhaling. Roman had a habit of saying anything that was on his mind, so that wasn’t what shocked you. You were shocked because it wasn’t all in your head…
…and that someone else had noticed too.
“She’s right,” he breathed, gazing at you, now, and you swallowed.
His eyes were taken with the action, lowering and resting on your neck for a few seconds too long. It was late and dark, save for the half moon in the sky, but something in his gaze seemed to shift as he stared at your throat, eyes tracing the very top of your chest before they met yours again.
You swore they weren’t as green, now.
“I do stare,” he murmured, looking away and taking another pull—a final pull—of the cigarette between his fingers. “You’re pretty…and I sometimes wonder if you were this pretty in school.”
You didn’t know if you liked where this conversation was going, straightening and looking away.
“School was only six months ago,” you mumbled, finally speaking after some time. “I can’t possibly look that different.”
Roman chuckled then, and it was a genuine sound, and so you didn’t know if he was laughing at you or himself.
“You’re right,” he relented. “I was probably just too busy fucking cheerleaders and paying already rich girls for sex.”
You grimaced, reaching for your purse, now when he stopped you. You were alarmed by the feel of his hand on your wrist, and when you looked up at him from your leaned over position, it seemed that Roman was somewhat startled by his own actions. Like he’d always entertained the thought but never imagined he’d go through with it. He quickly let you go like you’d burned him, and you slowly sat up as he cleared his throat.
“Shelley’s gonna be hanging out with our uncle tomorrow…” he looked away. “They’re close like that, but… That doesn’t mean I still can’t pick you up.”
He said a whole lot without saying much, and you felt your stomach twist. Roman was used to telling a girl he wanted her and then…well…having her. You’d seen it many times, the way they flocked to him and preened at the opportunity to fuck Roman Godfrey, and it wasn’t that he wasn’t attractive…because he was.
…and he knew it.
Roman scared you. Everything about him seemed designed with the key purpose of repelling you. He was too observant, too sure of himself, too…creepy. These weren’t things you could overlook, and instead of helping him, you were sure that his looks didn’t help your feelings. Roman didn’t look real at times—genetically altered even—and it only made you think there was something…inhuman about him.
Something that told you he wasn’t like you…and you should be wary.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you honestly replied, and you didn’t stick around to look at his face.
You held your purse to you as you got out of his car, and you reluctantly looked at him, your sympathetic gaze meeting his even one.
“I’m just here to tutor Shelley…and…we should probably keep it that way.”
You kept your rejection soft, and you turned away from him before he could reply. You ignored the feel of his gaze boring into your back, wrapping your arms around yourself as some half assed protection against the cold. You couldn’t get in your house fast enough, and you swore that you’d been leaning against the door for at least half an hour, waiting to hear him finally drive off.

The first night Roman raped you, it was raining.
Storming, to be more specific. It was odd because it was winter, and Pennsylvania was known for its summer storms. It was why you were even at the mansion so late, Roman refusing to drive in the violent downpour and you unable to walk. Olivia seemed to care neither here nor there about the whole thing, almost annoyingly cavalier about your plight.
“Oh, darling, you know how unpredictable a bit of rain can be,” she’d said, a glass of wine in her hand. “There’s no shortage of guest rooms. Find one for the night. I’m sure Roman can be of some help in that department.”
You hadn’t missed her crooked smile, an almost wicked sight as she softly chuckled to herself. She clearly found her son’s attraction to you amusing, harmless even, while you found it uncomfortable at best. Shelley was the one to help you get sorted for the night, visible eye soft and smile even softer as she pointed out where the towels and such would be.
You hadn’t realized you’d forgotten the problem of clothes until you stepped out of the shower to find some on the counter.
You froze at the sight, sure that you hadn’t heard a soul come in. At least…no one who wanted to be heard, and you grimaced before putting them on. Walking the corridors of The Godfrey Mansion with clothes in hand felt weird, and when you made it to your chosen guest bedroom of the night, you still didn’t relax.
Nothing about the mansion was calming, and the raging storm outside only made it worse. You laid in bed for a long time, wide awake and staring at the ceiling, just waiting for your heart to stop racing and your mind to grow quiet. It felt like forever, but it happened, and when it did, you finally felt your lashes flutter.
Sleep was finally yours.
…and then you woke up.
The sharp stabbing pain had you sitting up in bed, hand pressed to your stomach at the ache you felt deep within it. The familiar ache, and you felt your heart sink, wondering how your night could possibly get any worse. You didn’t need to look at the bed to know that you’d left something behind, only searching for your purse, positive you had an extra pad or tampon or something.
Relief filled your heart, and product in hand, you made your way into the hall in search of the bathroom. So focused on your pain and finding the bathroom, you didn’t mind the dark corridor, at all. Any other night, and you might have been hypervigilant with fear, but as it were, you could only focus on stopping any more ruin of the pajamas you’d been given.
It was a noise from behind you that gave you pause, and as you turned around, all those childhood stories about the fearful Godfrey Mansion came to mind. Every manifestation of what goes bump in the night filled your mind, but as you stared into the darkness, darkness was all you were met with. Telling yourself that an old mansion was bound to creak and groan, you turned away.
…and straight into Roman.
His very presence forced a shriek from your lips, and in your panic, your hands pressed to his chest. His bare chest. You didn’t register it, at first, so focused on trying to calm your heart and relax again. Your hands were empty, your saving grace of the night on the floor, and when you took a step back to pick it up, Roman took one forward.
You paused at the action.
“Roman-.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
The question came out somewhat harsh, and you squinted at him in the darkness. It threw you off for several reasons, but mostly because you didn’t understand what he meant. As best as you could make it out in the darkness, his face seemed contorted, pinched actually—eyes narrowed, lips pursed, and gaze riddled with accusations.
“…what? Roman, what are you-.”
Your words died in the air when he forced himself closer, a strange look on his face as he eyed you. You watched his nostrils flare, another step forward from Roman, and you finally took another back. He was so close, too close, and when you blinked, you remembered that you didn’t have time to try and understand Roman tonight. Ignoring him, you reached down, and as soon as your hand was around what you so desperately needed, another hand was coming down on your wrist.
You reacted harshly, flinching and crying out, and you registered that Roman’s grip was actually…painful.
You were both standing now, Roman still holding onto you, and his nose brushed against yours as he leaned in. His hair, normally so neat and perfectly in place, was kissing his forehead. The dark strands were going every which way, and when his lips parted, a soft exhale escaping in time with a flutter of his lashes, only then did you say his name again.
As if waking up from a dream, you watched his eyes focus in on your face, really focus, and it took him some time to let you go.
Your wrist ached, his phantom touch lingering, and you held it to you protectively. You felt that you could really see into Roman’s eyes, now, and the mansion lit up from a brief flash of lightning. His own eyes glinted, and you recalled that the last time you and Roman were this close, he was trying to spend time with you outside of his sister’s tutoring.
…and you’d turned him down.
When he took a step back, he finally spoke again.
“Looking for the bathroom?”
You wondered how he knew that, but you surmised that it was a good guess. After all, it was the middle of the night, and you were roaming the corridors with a tampon in hand. At your nod, he slowly smiled at you, something mocking in it as he reached out to rest a hand on your shoulder.
“It’s over here,” he told you. “You’ll get lost without me.”
His voice was smooth, tone almost gentle, and it was like that awkward and startling moment had never even happened. His touch was light on your arm as he guided you through the darkness, and as uncomfortable as Roman made you, in your predicament, you didn’t have much choice but to follow his lead. The muffled sound of rain was all that surrounded you, and when Roman finally reached what looked like the bathroom, you relaxed.
“They say sex helps with that…”
You paused, looking at the rich boy, and his visage was serious.
“The cramps,” he continued with a raise of his brows as if you didn’t know what he was getting at.
“So, I’ve heard,” you said after some time, unsure of how to even respond to that.
When you walked into the bathroom, you were shocked by the feel of Roman ripping the tampon out of your hand. The light from the bathroom lit up the hallway behind him, the darkness on the edge of the doorway making him look…ominous. His gaze was unreadable, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.
“You’re not funny,” you told him, reaching for it, but he only held it out of reach. “Roman…”
You stumbled back when he crossed the threshold, blocking the doorway completely, and irritated and in pain, you were losing your patience for his game. He could be such a child sometimes, demanding attention at the worst moment possible, and you grabbed the tampon with a quickness. Only, Roman held onto it too, and he pushed at your hand, forcing you back in the process.
His green irises glinted under the light.
“Roman…”
You words died in the air when his hand slid to wrap around your wrist like earlier, and you felt your heart…drop.
The way he stared at you, something about it was terrifying, and his eyes started to appear almost unfocused. His hand tightened, and you winced, and you were just about to say his name again when the sound of the door clicking shut reached your ears. You blinked, looking behind him, unaware that he’d forced you both so far into the bathroom with enough room to kick the door shut. Like the first day you came face to face with him again, you felt paralyzed, trapped under the crushing weight of his gaze, and you could feel your heart speed up.
His hold on your arm prevented you from moving when he kissed you.
You were in shock, feeling wholly out of control that you just stood there, unable to quite feel his lips on yours. You felt crowded by him, forced to hold still lest you provoke something impulsive, and you didn’t even register just how painful his hold on your wrist became. You only blinked when the stabbing pain deep in the pit of your stomach reminded you of your plight.
Pulling away, you pushed at his chest.
“Roman, what the hell?”
Your lower back painfully met the sink, and you simultaneously tried to lean away and push him away too. His other hand snaked around your neck, your head harshly pressing against the mirror, and you whined in frustration. His lithe frame found a home between your kicking legs, and your panic seized you when he kissed you again.
Fighting against Roman felt like a lost cause—he was stronger than he looked.
The kiss felt hungry, like he was trying to devour you, and you whined again as he pressed you against the sink more. The hand on your wrist kept your arm outstretched, and he let out a sound in between the kiss that sounded somewhat like a hiss. His breathing was heavy too, and when he finally let your neck go, there was no sense of relief.
You pushed at him as he pulled at your pants, and they were barely to your knees when Roman suddenly dropped. One hand on your leg kept you from moving, the other preoccupied with getting the other out of the borrowed pajamas. Horror and confusion were battling within you, and all you could manage to do was hit at the wall when he dipped his head between your thighs.
Horrifying and bloody circumstances aside, you didn’t want this.
You cried out his name, throat tightening, and your free leg banged against the sink cabinet. One of his hands had a death grip on your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin so harshly you knew it would bruise. He kept it pushed away, practically flat against the counter, the stretch burning in a way that made you wince. However, the feel of his tongue between your legs made for a confusing reaction.
Your head was spinning at the feel of his tongue sliding along your bloody folds, lips completely covering your mound as he sucked at you. Your eyes rolled, and it was hard to focus on the true nature of what was going on. Your toes curled under his ministrations, and your nails scraped against the wall and counter top.
“Roman, stop,” you choked out, heart beating wildly in your chest.
You finally pushed at his chest, whining in both pain and pleasure when he refused to move, only lapping at you harder. Your stomach was tightening for more reasons than one, now, and despite the cold season and cold mansion, you felt so hot. Too hot.
Roman hooked his arm under your thigh, yanking you down further, and you were in too much of an awkward and painful position to properly fight back. When your nails dug into his face, his other arm wrapped around your free leg, forcing that one where he wanted it to be too. You couldn’t even grapple with the full circumstances of Roman with his face between your legs during that time of the month, reaching out at the wall and counter in panic when he fell back, taking you with him.
Unable to move, you were forced to sit on his face, hands pushing against the wall behind him as a means to get free. That tightening in your gut was accompanied with a pleasant burn, now, and your breath hitched, lashes fluttering at that tightening coil, shrinking more and more until it had no choice but to release, making you gasp when it did.
The moan you let out was unlike anything you’d heard from yourself, shocked at the strain in your voice. You couldn’t breathe fast enough, sucking in air with a swimming vision. In Roman’s greedy consumption of you, his hold loosened, and you didn’t hesitate to push yourself off of him. You were still shaking, the remnants of your orgasm gripping you, and your eyes were wide as you looked at Roman. He laid on the floor with parted lips, slowly blinking in wonder as he ran his hands through his hair.
The entire bottom half of his face was covered in your blood.
You felt frozen, unsure of how to even process what had just happened. You were so confused and disturbed and scared, staring at Roman like he was something not of this world, and when you finally shifted, that’s when he seemed to remember your presence, green eyes landing on you with a quickness that made you freeze up, as if trying to make yourself as small as possible.
Your scream rang throughout the bathroom when he lunged for you.
Roman’s bloody face was all you could focus on as he hovered over you, pushing his cock into you over and over again. Every time his hips met yours, your chest arched up against his, back curving and eyes rolling. Roman was so silent that you would’ve swore he was possessed, but there was an awareness in his green gaze that told you he was anything but.
His hands held yours down, dark brown hair hanging into his forehead. On the off chance that he smiled, it was a bloody one, and it scared you more than anything. The bathroom floor was cool against your naked back, and through the haze of Roman’s assault, you realized—with reluctance—that the feel of his cock driving in and out of you was indeed helping with your cramps.
The inside of your thighs were a bloody mess, much like his face, and as disgusting as it was, it was the least of your worries. Roman was a lot of things, annoyingly arrogant above all else, but you never pegged him for a rapist. A freak, maybe, yes, but a rapist? No. The sound of skin slapping against skin was loud in the bathroom, and so focused on the feel of him plunging into you, you couldn’t even pinpoint when the storm had ended.

You cried out, tears spilling over as you pressed your hands against the hood of his car. You kept trying to push yourself up, but Roman’s determined hands kept shoving you back down. The moon was hidden by the clouds, no visible light shining down on his assault, a hand of his twisted at the nape of your neck.
You pressed your nails against his vehicle, and that was when he yanked you back, lips at your ear.
“Don’t scratch the fucking paint,” Roman spat, sounding very mad by the mere thought, and you insulted him several times over behind closed lips.
You’d tried to quit after that horrific stormy night in which Roman raped you on the bathroom floor. You’d given Olivia Godfrey every excuse in the book and tried to gently let Shelley down many times over, but the single matriarch simply wouldn’t hear it. She rolled her eyes in that coquettish way she tended to do, a soft smirk on her pink lips. Or she’d simply laugh you off, a sharp ‘nonsense’ soon to follow.
“Am I not paying you enough? Do you want more?”
“It’s not about the money,” you’d replied.
No amount of money in the world could possibly make up for the sick deviant that was her son.
After he came inside of you, breathless and satisfied, he’d dragged you crying and kicking all the way to his room. Any fight from you was immediately squashed down, and you didn’t know if Roman had snorted a few lines of coke or what, but no one was more shocked than you when he pushed you onto his bed, determined to continue what he’d started in the bathroom.
You’d been a dazed and abused mess when you snuck out in the early hours of the morning, half dressed and still bleeding. It hadn’t been Roman that came for you, but Olivia instead, talks of obligations and Shelley. No amount of refusal had deterred her, and you got the strangest feeling that the older woman fully knew the extent of just how her son felt about you.
You felt trapped.
By kind and sweet Shelley who broke your heart to leave, by Olivia who wanted to spoil her son with his new plaything of choice, and most of all by Roman who decided he had to have something once he wanted it. The last time you’d tried to quit, Olivia merely waved you off with a soft laugh, and when you turned around, none other than Roman had been at the end of the corridor, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.
It was how you found yourself in his car, no choice but to let him drive you home. You hadn’t uttered a word to him since that night, and as you very well knew… Roman hated to be ignored. He was going to command your attention one way or another, and you hadn’t even heard him open his door after you, following close behind until his hands were on you and pushing you down onto his car.
Your forehead grazed the vehicle as he plunged his cock into you, stretching you out in your driveway for anyone to see. The embarrassment of such a thought was what kept you quiet, tears kissing your cheeks as you were forced to take his thrusts. His jeans were pulled down just enough to give him room to fuck you as he wanted, your own pants down around your ankles while he rutted into you.
When Roman came, he pressed his face into your hair, breathing you in with deep inhales. You could feel his heartbeat against your back, and you sniffed, shakily reaching up to wipe your face. Roman remained where he was for a few moments too long, just basking in the feel of you wrapped around him, and after some time, he let out a low chuckle.
It was a disturbing sound.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about this pussy since that night…” he breathed, finally pulling away.
You felt him right himself, and he was rough in doing the same to you, pulling your pants up. Once done, he rested his hands on your hips, remaining close and leaning in.
“Quit trying to quit,” he harshly said. “My sister really likes you, and if you hurt her feelings, I’ll make you choke on it.”
You stumbled back when he finally pulled away to make his way to the driver’s seat. You wrapped your arms around yourself, struggling to swallow as you accepted the truth in his words. You believed him wholeheartedly, and you trembled from more than just the cold as you watched him speed away in that fancy red car.
You knew that you wouldn’t be getting much sleep, and you hated how right you were when you were staring at your ceiling hours later. Like the day after that night, you’d scrubbed yourself until you felt raw, but even still, you could feel his hands on you. Those long fingers that were more reminiscent of spider legs than limbs.
Roman Godfrey was equally rotten inside as he was beautiful.
You discovered just how rotten only a week later when he was holding you down for the umpteenth time, a wicked smile on his lips just before leaning down. The sharp pain where your shoulder and neck met made you jerk beneath him, and beneath the cover of darkness, you just knew that the strong smell that hit your nose was blood.
You didn’t think it was possible for Roman to horrify you any more.
…but he did, and you screamed, and he only held you tighter. He was resting comfortably between your parted legs, fitting snuggly inside of you as he made a pulling sensation with his mouth. You squirmed beneath him, fighting and pushing back as much as you could, but he wasn’t deterred. You could feel his hips jerk, a gasp escaping you as he thrust into you to the hilt.
Your hands clawed at his bedding, the sound of tearing fabric reaching your ears above the low moans that left Roman. When he got his fill, you were a sobbing mess, reaching up to clutch your neck as he curved his hips into yours. You could feel some of your blood drip onto you from his mouth, and when his bloody lips met yours, you gagged.
Your disbelief was forced to be suspended with the unfortunate truth that was right in front of you. You didn’t really care about what was possible or not in that moment, only wanting to get away from him. Roman seemed entertained with your struggle, fighting with your hands as he fucked you, a tight grip on your wrist. The other hand danced down your body, light touches and skin grazes along the way.
“Look at me,” he murmured, drunk off the taste of you. “Look at me.”
His bloody hand on your face forced you to do just that, and his calm voice stopped you from shaking. Even in the dark, it was like his green irises were all you could see, and the color was so calming—so soothing—that when he told you to relax…you did.
You felt so at ease as he slowly thrust into you, pulling out until only the tip of him remained before pushing all the way back in again. The feel made you sighed, and Roman sighed too, a soft hum escaping him. Deep in the back of your mind, you were still terrified of the dark-haired boy, but despite that, you just felt so calm.
“Good,” he softly purred. “Good girl.”
One of his hands rested on the headboard above you, the other pressed into the pillow beside your head. You were so relaxed that all you could do was stare up at him as he surged over you again and again, retreating with every pull of his hips and driving forward with every thrust. Relaxed, you were more able to focus on the sound of his cock sinking into you, the squelching noise reaching your ears as your body fought to cling to him and keep him from leaving each and every time.
Dazedly, you reached up to touch your neck again, the smell of blood strong, and as you lifted your hand to look at it, Roman leaned down to cover your fingers with his mouth. The hum that met your ears was one of appreciation, and when you came for the first time that night, you were met with another.
“You’ve had enough?” he wondered, hand pressed into your stomach as he drove his hips against yours. “…or you want more from daddy?”
His voice was low and gruff, strained with emotion as he basked in the tight and warm feel of you. It didn’t really matter what your answer would be for Roman had already decided to fuck you well into the night as he wished. When you came for a final time, his hands were leaving bruises into your hips, and you were ripping his sheets apart.

The woods of Hemlock Grove seemed extra thick and hazardous tonight, as if it was their sole purpose to slow you down and trap you for him.
Bite marks and bruises littered your skin for months before you finally cracked. Months of walking into The Godfrey Mansion with fear, tutoring Shelley and distracted the entire time by thoughts of Roman. Wondering when he’d come to collect you, what corner he might pop out of, when you might feel the brush of his touch along your shoulder. You didn’t stay for dinner anymore, unable to sit across from Roman and have him stare you down as he reminisced on the feel of you coming around him, bleeding and broken.
Olivia Godfrey pretended not to notice Roman shadowing you like a ghost, like a grim reaper come to collect what he felt he was owed. She smiled that coy smile and waved around those waifish arms, all the while nursing a cigarette or a drink, fully aware of what her spoiled son got up to under the cover of darkness when no one could see your abuse at his hands.
Your last period had been your last straw, shuddering at the memory of Roman keeping you prisoner on top of him as he ate you out so long that it started to grow painful at some point. When he finally sank into you—in more ways than one—you couldn’t even try to enjoy it, too overstimulated to the point where you kept trying to get away.
Roman was sound asleep when you ran.
…but he was wide awake in time to run after you.
You truly didn’t even know where you were going, so set on just getting away from the terrifying boy that you just let your feet carry you. The biting air cut at your skin, and the leaves crunched beneath you. It was only moments ago when his voice had rang through the trees, your name bouncing off of the trunks as he desperately called for you.
“I can smell you!”
That fact did not deter you, sure that you could escape him. Every whip of a branch cut into you, and you knew the blood that you felt was the very same blood he smelled. The steep inclines and downward slopes of Hemlock Grove slowed you down, tiring you out, and your chest hurt from your harsh sobs. You had just pulled yourself up a small hill when you fell to the ground.
You were not alone.
“Y/N,” Roman snarled, a guttural edge to his voice that made you cry harder. “Get back here!”
He screamed it so passionately and loudly that it actually made you wince, and your vision was blurred from your tears as you clawed at the ground, fighting to get away from him. His fingers dug into your pants, preventing you from moving as much as you wanted, and despite the fact that you knew no one would come, you screamed for help when he crawled up your body.
He slammed your head into the ground, impulsively, and you saw stars in your vision. He succeeded in what he wanted, halting your movements for a time as you fought to collect yourself. In that time, Roman had already covered your frame, chest completely pressed down on your back. His hand closed around your throat, pulling your head back some.
“Don’t be stupid,” he roughly told you, lips at your ear. “Don’t be fucking stupid.”
You clawed at the dirt and leaves as his other hand reached beneath you, sliding into your pants with ease and cupping you. He made a noise of appreciation at the feel, and as Roman told you that you’d never escape him, he sank his teeth into your neck.
In your despair, you accepted this truth.