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xmorguekittyx · 13 days

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Chapter 2 : 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙩𝙝

master list

Limited vacancy, who the hell was at this shit hole this late at night and in this severe of weather? Surly, most had been up to date on the incoming storms any Raccoon City resident had a stockpile of supplies, food, flashlights and water in case of a storm like the one of 2003. The entire town had next to no power, shops were throwing out food left and right. The lucky few who had the supplies helped those less fortunate, now you'd be lucky to get a pat on the back. Raccoon City had fallen far in the number of years separating the infamous year and today.

That was what her father stood for, helping the good people of Raccoon City, punishing the bad and finding a way to convince those stuck in the in-between. His ethics were admirable, truly. That's what made her want to work somewhere work the justice system, but her empathetic heart had her leaning more towards helping those who can't help themselves. The deceased, those whose time has come too soon, or those who had been waiting for their time to pass, loved ones finding their final moments together, something not to fear. What she does is well disliked as a career option, but she chose it to make her father proud. Her father was all she had, all she ever needed, until his unfortunate passing. He was on a call with Leon that night, a robbery gone wrong and shots had been fired. Her heart tightened as she thought back to that night, the pattering rain kissing her skin as her lips curled downwards into a frown. Her eyes set in a glare as she shoved the door open, her elbow meeting the wood of the motel office door. She felt the humidity leave the air conditioned air as she relaxed her shoulders, letting the weight drop off like a coat to the floor. Her joints feeling that for once they could stretch and be at ease.

Her eyes closed as she sucked in a deep breath of the chill air, "Some night out there, isn't it?", a voice bellowed from behind her, causing her eyes to snap open and every been of tenseness crawl back up her shoulders. Part of her wished Leon had risked the drive out here, she wasn't use to having to watch herself. Leon protected her, he had her back since day one. That day that his nervous eyes met hers, her father's voice calling to them from behind as she couldn't help but laugh at his stutter. Twenty one years old and still nervous to talk to anyone, but then again, she was seventeen and in the same boat. "Yeah, seems a lot of people got caught in it, tonight.", she let out a small breath as she approached the oak front desk. The words "Motel 8" engraved into the wood.

"You'd think more people would've stayed home. They're calling for more in the night, but who knows.", the older, heavier man shrugged, his body turning away from her as she took note of the sweat stains on his shirt despite the air conditioner. "You're soaked, car break down?", he seemed to be making small talk, but the way his eyes checked over his shoulder at her every few seconds had her hair standing on end. "Yeah, but I got someone coming.", her fingernails tapped the desk top, her other hand propping up to hold her chin. "A single?", his voice called over his shoulder as he pulled down a key. "Don't see anyone else with you. Unless you're using the room for...", he trialed off as he smirked at her turning around and leaning on the desk closer to her. His breath hitting her face with a putrid smell, her body reacting quickly to flinch back and swipe the key. "Yeah, how much?", she turned her face as her nose scrunched up. Her body trying to force the stench from her area as she waved her hand. His smirk told her she wasn't the only one to reach this way to his proximity. "400.", he raised a brow as her jaw dropped. "400 dollars for a single bed room for one night?!", her reaction was valid, she felt. "The hotels in the city have rooms for no less than 280 for a double bed.", she scoffed, "This is a rip off!", she growled. "Unless you think you can make it there on foot, toots. It'll be 400 dollars, I take cash, card or... acts of service.", he grinned once more as his eyes flickered down to her chest. "Oh, you pervert!", she shrieked, her arm croaking up to over her chest, that had been slightly exposed from how soaked her clothes were, sticking to her frame and her other hand reaching for her wallet, plucking the card from her slot and tossing it on the counter. The man laughed before running her card, his amusement sent her seething more as she snatched her card and receipt back.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

"Leon!", the man had just answered the phone before his ear drums nearly burst. "I assume you made it.", he groaned, she could hear the exhaustion in his words. Guilt started to build in her gut. "Were you sleeping?", her tone was much more soft and calm as she eased back into the bed, the sheets engulfing her legs, bare, as she had to remove her clothing to let them dry by the air vent. The warmth sucked all the air in her lungs, replacing it with a semi-safe feeling. She remembered how people used hangers to block the door, which is what she did. "Yeah, but i didn't mean to fall 'sleep.", his voice hummed, it was like her very own lullaby. Her heart thumped as she felt the lingering regret for calling him so late. "I'm sorry. I just... this place gives me the creeps.", her fingers picked at the lace on the leg of her panties. "Lot's of weirdo's stop there, Kitty. I get a few calls, but you remember what I said about the door, right?", her protector. Her eyes scanned until they met the entanglement of hangers locking through door handle in place. "Yep. Already done.", she sighed, taking a deep breath from her nose. "Good, good.", a silence followed, she knew Leon suffered from night terrors from the years of police work he had done. Some cases he would call her in the middle of the night, thinking one of the suspects was at his door trying to kill him for arresting him. Some of the murder victims coming to life in his visions, dismembered bodies, missing arms or a leg chasing him or haunting his dreams. She felt sick to think that this was also what her father suffered in silence, Leon at least reached out to her.

Nights of facetime calls that lasted hours as she watched his sleeping face, his brows furrow and his teeth grit once one started. His body sitting up with a scream, his hands curled into his chest as sweat poured from every pore on his body. His breath panting as he struggled for a breath and her unheard words as she tried to calm him from the other side of the screen. His shaking and flailing when he tried to fight off what wasn't there. But it was, to him, it was there, a threat that he knew could hurt him, his mind manifesting his fears. Leon was a very traumatized man, his attitude had shifted sometime during the years they've known each other. Nothing either of them could do, perhaps hers had too, but she never noticed, only tunnel visioned onto his suffering. "Want me to let you go?", her voice sounded like it was muffled, she didn't want to stir him too much if he was close to sleep once more.

"No, no. You're okay, i'm worried about you.", always the worry wort, making sure everyone else was cared for. That's what got him here. That's what turned the bright eyed and eager rookie into a seasoned police officer who had seen just about anything. "I'll be okay.", the sound of the bed squealing could be heard in the receiver on his end, hearing her get up from the bed. "What you doing?", he asked with that sleep thick voice. "I'm gonna grab a water.", she didn't mind his questions or want to be protective. He never crossed that line of being too nosey, though sometimes she wished he did. It was like her heart eyes had been overlooked for years, her desire for the man going unnoticed. "Shit- fridge is warm.", she sighed, the door of the mini fridge slamming. "My fucking luck-", she groaned, before she laid back on the bed, plopping back. "They've got an ice machine, before you pout too hard, princess.", he snickered as she scowled. She figured she could just inform him of the creep down the hall tomorrow. Leon had said he was here before, maybe he already knew the front desk was a pervert. "Fine.", her legs ached from the walk, already having given what energy they had to the endeavor to get here.

The hall lit up with lightening, the fogged up windows muting the brightness. "He put me in 17, how far down is the icebox?", she asked softly, hoping not to wake up anyone who might be sleeping though the storm. "It's between room 26 and 27, so not too far.", he whispered back, despite not having to. Her pants were sticking to her only slightly now, she had more sense than to not change before coming out here, god forbid that fucker catch her in her underwear, she didn't want to give him something to get off to. "Ah! Found it.", she whispered, pulling her arm down in a 'hell yeah' motion. "Good, now the princess can have the finest of cold waters.", he laughed, causing her to snort in amusement. "Shut up, room temperature water drinker. It's disgusting.", she shamed his preference. "Hey! It's healthier.", he corrected, his voice slightly muttered in annoyance. "Yeah, old man has to take care of himself now.", she teased, scooping some of the ice into the metal bowl that was in her room.

As she scooped the thunder clashed loudly, followed by a lightening strike that sounded like it landed right on her. Causing her to shriek and drop the bowl. "You alright?!", his voice came from the speaker in urgency. "Fuck, yeah.", she sighed as she looked at all her spilt ice. "There goes my ice.", she growled, pushing the bowl with the toe of her shoe. "I think i'm just going to try and go back to my room and sleep. Hopefully this is all over by the morning.", she gave in, turning on her heel before she caught the outline of a man down the hall, causing her to halt. "What...", her voice trailed off as she stood watching, the figure of the man watching her, his eyes wide and white, all she could make out was his eyes and build. He was skinny, but tall. "Leon?", she whispered, her throat tense causing the words to sound almost like a wheeze. "Kitty?", Leon called back, his voice also tense, sensing something was wrong. "I...", she started before the man turned on his heel and darted into a room. "Oh my god-", she breathed, the words airy. "Some creep was standing at the end of the hall acting like a creeper.", she explained as her heart rate tried to ease itself back into a normal pace. "I can't wait to be home.", she didn't waste time getting back to her room, passing room 25, 23, 21, then 19- before she stopped once more. The door was open, from her peripheral, she could make out legs, laying straight out on the bed, "Huh?", her nose curled up as she tilted her head, "Jesus-", her eyes had caught just the small sight of blood dripping from the mattress, staining the white, red. "I think you may want to come by tonight, Leon.", her voice was grave, she was use to being around bodies day in and day out. But here? Out of nowhere, laid the body of a blonde girl, her head tilted towards the closet as Kitty stepped in further. Her jaw slightly left open and her body covered by just the sheet. Her hair was tangled as if someone had gripped it. Her legs and wrists bruised a dark purple. Her shoulder marred with a bite mark, the skin punctured as blood pooled into the divots. The bed was messy, her clothes nearly folded by the bed on the floor, a simple pair of jeans and a tank top. She felt tears come to her eyes, just another soul gone too soon by hands of another.

Kitty stepped closer, Leon's muffled voice going unheard as she leaned over the girl, "I'm so sorry, angel...", murder was something that Kitty strived to treat differently. "I'm so sorry.", she placed her hand on her hair, stroking the dead woman, before closing her eyes, slowly and softly. Her skin was cold, no warmth left within her.

part 1

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sixzeroes · 1 year

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walltalk.

summary | na jaemin has always been the bane of your existence—but he’s also been the centre of your sexual desires.

characters | villain!jaemin x hero!reader(f).

genres | smut, pwnp, bnha au, non-idol au.

warnings | profanity, brief description of blood, jaemin talks about murdering reader, slight hostage situation, sex, rough sex?, mentions of blowjob, use of ‘princess,’ giselle (and ten) lowkey cockblocking at the end.

word count | 2.2k.

so, this was actually posted on one of my old accounts before i decided to delete that and move here without anyone knowing. it did get around 400 notes, so if you recognise this, i am the original writer of it!! i don’t associate myself with that account or pseudonym anymore, but i just couldn’t let this one sit in my files so yeah :))

YOU CAN’T DIE YET.

It’s too early to bid goodbye to the world. There are many things you’ve yet to experience, and millions of people cheering you on. You still need to reach the number one spot. You still need to watch the new Disney movie releasing next week. You still need to try out the mint chocolate fusion that’s been the craze the past few days. You still need to travel to Greece and admire the Athena Parthenon. You still need to—

Bottom line is, there’s hundreds of thousands of reasons as to why your life must be prolonged. You’re a heroine, and your career has just begun.

No, you truly can’t die yet.

But Na Jaemin seems to think the opposite.

The room—prison—you’re confined to is dark, only a sliver of moonlight slipping through the barred window. In the middle of the room stands a chair, a blond man sitting with his chest against the back. His arms cross over the top rail, one foot tapping against the ground in a rather erratic rhythm. His all-too-familiar smile is terrifying, and you resist shuddering under his wicked gaze.

“Maybe I’ll slit your throat,” he muses, watching your every action. Ice forms along his hand, creating a claw-like silhouette in the dim light. You gulp, a little intimidated by his power.

“As if I’d let you,” you huff, sharpening your glower to prove his presence isn’t feared. “You’ve got nothing on me.”

That’s a huge lie. Both you and Jaemin know it. The blonde laughs at your revelation, the ice melting off of his skin. It hits the ground—drip, drip—and forms a puddle at his feet. “Your courage hasn’t changed, Y/N, but neither has the gap between you and I. You may be dubbed a strong hero, but you know better than everyone that you can’t beat me.”

He hasn’t stabbed you yet, but the harsh reality of his words burn a humiliating pain in your heart.

“What use is strength if your intelligence can’t keep up?” you sneer, referring to your high school era just like he had. “Don’t forget, you were always second to me in every theoretical exam.”

You barely flinch when an icicle crumbles against the wall beside your head. The skin over your left cheekbone breaks apart into a cut, a thin stream of blood tracing the curve of your face. Jaemin tosses the chair away, the loud bang leaving a ringing in your ears. He’s mad, and it’s because of you.

You can’t die yet, but you’re about to.

Fuck. All because you refused to follow Ten’s suicidal mission. Well, it’s not like yours isn’t life-threatening either, but there’s less lives getting claimed.

“You know, you always pissed me off,” growls Jaemin, crouching in front of you. Even though he’s left you untied, you make no move to attack him in hopes of escaping. And that’s the thing—you can’t escape, and you know. He knows. Na Jaemin is too strong for you to outrun.

You spit, “The feeling’s mutual.”

There’s no way you and Jaemin could ever get along with each other, much less develop feelings opposite to the word hate. In high school, it was always a battle between the two of you. Na Jaemin—first in practical exams, second in theoretical. And you—first in theoretical exams, second in practical. To be frank, the two of you would’ve been a formidable pair if it wasn’t for his egoistic attitude and your competitive personality. If it was doubtful then, it’s impossible now.

After all, Jaemin’s become the very villain he once wished to eradicate.

“I saw you on television, all your interviews, the blurry cuts of you fighting. Made me wanna wipe that stupid smile off of your fucking face.”

The rivalry between you and Jaemin wasn’t unnoticed by your peers during the three years of high school. But what most failed to detect was the sexual tension that brimmed beneath the surface of the enmity.

“I saw you too, on Wanted posters.” you hiss, wiping the blood on your cheek. It’s a little dried. “Looking all smug for a hero turned evil.”

Jaemin chuckles, prodding his inner cheek with his tongue. He looks to the side, then he glares straight into your eyes. “What can I say? The criminals are less corrupt than the righteous hero industry.” The blond man mimics quotation marks with his hand at the word righteous. “You, too, are a waste as a hero. Why don’t you join me? Wipe the damn system and build a new one from scratch. Doyoung doesn’t bite, you know. He likes pretty girls like you. I do, too.”

You don’t retaliate with phrases that glorify the hero industry. Jaemin’s right, albeit you refuse to outright acknowledge it. Instead, you snap, “Fuck you.”

He licks his lips. “Is that consent?”

Yes. “No.”

Your head jerks backwards as Jaemin grabs your face with force, a throb lingering from the impact against the wall. His fingers dig into your cheeks, thumb dipped in your drying blood. Your hands grip his forearm and he tugs you forwards, decreasing the proximity between his face and yours. It’s faint, but a peach scent surrounds the man.

Jaemin runs his thumb against your lips, and a metallic taste overrides your senses. “I’ll ask again, Y/N. Is”—he parts your lips with the push of his thumb—“that”—his nail grazes your tongue—“consent?”

A beat.

“Yes.”

Before you can release the entire breath, his hand wraps around your throat in a rough yet careful choke. With brute strength, Jaemin lifts you onto your feet, your knees buckling at the sudden exertion. There’s no time to adjust as his lips latch onto yours, snagging whatever oxygen you have left. He’s always been impatient, and even during foreplay, he shows no patience.

Your heavy pants fill the silence as he devours your lips, his tongue sliding against your tongue. Your lips that were chapped are now moist, saliva leaking from the corner of your lips. His empty hand situates itself on your hip, and you gasp when he runs it up under your shirt.

“Would’ve been sexier if you had your flimsy costume on,” he muttered against your lips. “Always wanted to strip you of that red abomination.”

“Sh—Shut up,” you groan, his hand grasping your breast. Your eyes flutter when he pushes aside your bra and pinches your nipple. The act leaves your core throbbing, aching for more. “Fuck, finger me.”

Jaemin kisses your chin. “If you blow me after, sure.”

You make the effort to glare at him. “I fucking hate y—oh.” Your jaw slacks as he shoves the hand on your neck into the warmth of your underwear, knuckles grazing the damp fabric.

“So wet, princess,” he jeers, using the nickname you loathed during the start of your youth. “I wonder who you’re so aroused for?”

“Jeno, obviously,” you scoff, and Jaemin pulls away from you, his touch leaving your skin. “Wh—hey!”

The blonde distances himself from you, licking his fingers clean of your essence. “Hm?” he hums, an eyebrow raised. “I’m not about to fuck a girl who’s got another man’s name on her mind.”

You lean against the wall for support. “Holy fuck, you’re so lame.”

“Run to Jeno, then.”

Fuck. You swallow his saliva from the messy kiss, and with it, your pride. “Shit. Fine, I’m sorry. Can you fuck me now? I’ll even suck your dick.”

Jaemin beams, and it has your pussy dripping. “Of course! Since my princess asked so nicely,” he sings, daintily taking your hands in his. Your heart stutters as he places gentle kisses along your knuckles, and then the pad of your fingers. It’s sweet, until he throws your hands up and restrains them against the wall with ice.

“How pretty,” he muses, trailing his pointer finger down your cheek. Jaemin bunches your shirt and bra so it sits atop your chest, revealing your bare breasts. You shiver from the chill, but are warmed right away when his hands roam your torso. A gasp rips from your throat when the man teases your pants down, sliding two long fingers into your cunt. Soft and shaky moans tumble from your lips, prompting Jaemin to move his fingers. His thumb—the blood clad one—circles your clit, fingers pulsing in and out of you with ease. He’s cruel, dragging the tip of his digits against the soft flesh of your walls.

As Jaemin fingers you, he seals your lips with his once again in a breathless kiss. Your tongue meshes with his, teeth clashing every so often. One hand returns to your neck, laying at the base in a tough hold. “Oh—” you mewl, “I’m so—”

Jaemin removes his fingers, and you fall limp, the restraints preventing you from crumpling to the floor. Your mind is hazy, but you manage to say, “You’re such a bitch.”

“Mhm, I am, princess.” he coos, unbuckling the belt looped around his jeans. Like you, he’s in casual attire, having dressed in civilian clothing when kidnapping you in the mall. He unzips the fly, head thrown back as he frees his hard dick. You whimper, biting your lower lip at the sight. “Aren’t you so honest?”

“Fuck,” you groan, touch-deprived. “It’s huge.”

“Can you make a condom?” he asks, slapping his length against your bare stomach. The precum smears all over your pretty skin. “I didn’t bring one, and I’d rather not get you pregnant.”

Jaemin’s either dumb or clever for relying on you to whip out protection. But you obey, formulating a packaged condom with whatever lipids left in your body. It pops out of your arm, and Jaemin catches it with a lopsided grin. He rips the packet open with his teeth, tossing the foil aside whilst rolling the plastic over his dick. You watch, counting down the seconds until he’s inside.

“Are you ready?” he whispers, lips grazing your ear.

“…Yes.”

Your answer is all he needs as he pushes into you, easily slipping in with the help of your lubrication. You release a shaky moan, eyes rolling back from pure pleasure. Jaemin hauls one of your legs over his bicep, and he catches your face in his hand. Your lustful gaze meets his, and you feel a thrill run down your spine at the look in his eyes.

He’s hungry—sex hungry, and you’re his doll to ruin.

Slowly, Jaemin pulls out before thrusting, the tip of his dick prodding your cervix. You cry out, hitting the ice wrapped around your wrists. Over and over and over again, Jaemin pounds into you, groaning the dirtiest words as does. Your back hits the wall every time his hips meet yours, but the pain drowns in the plethora of pleasure.

“So tight,” he rasps, speed increasing by the second. “You feel so, so fucking good.”

“Ah, oh my—god,” you whine, chasing his lips. He grants you a kiss, and you murmur, “Harder, fuck me harder.”

Challenges are a way to rile Jaemin up, and it seems he’s taken your plea as one. The villain grips your thighs as he lets out a low, guttural growl. He thrusts faster, at a speed you can’t comprehend. You’re seeing stars, tasting stars, in an absolute bliss no writer can describe. Jaemin stutters each time you clench around his dick, your pussy sending him into overdrive.

“Hey, cum for me.” he mutters, biting your lower lip.

You pant, running out of breath. “I’m close,” you chant, relishing the way his entire length fits inside of you. You beg, “Please—please don’t stop.”

“Keep asking.”

“Finish me off, Jaemin,” you moan. “I’m so close!”

Jaemin reaches for the restraints, melting them with his left hand. In one swift motion, he turns you so your cheek lays flat against the wall, ass out for him to see. He whistles, fondling the soft flesh. Your mewls don’t stop, spilling endlessly as he continues to slam into you.

“Jaemin!” you cry, clenching around his dick. “Close—close—so close—”

“Let it out, princess.”

And you do, orgasming with his dick still inside. You whimper when he keeps thrusting, chasing his high while simultaneously overstimulating you. Your mind is hazy when he draws his dick out, the condom full of his cum. Support is gone as Jaemin backs away, and you fall to the ground, recovering from the wild fuck you just had.

“Shit, maybe I should’ve come on your face,” he mutters, fixing his pants. Shirtless, he crouches so his eyes are parallel to yours. “You good?”

You spit and it lands on his chin. “I’m still trapped, asshole.”

“If you blow me—”

His words are cut short when the window explodes, the building crumbling from the impact. Both you and Jaemin glance over to the gaping hole in the wall, a confused Giselle standing atop the debris. She scans your half-naked body, then his lack of shirt, and analyzes the scene in no time.

“Ten! They fucked!”

A snicker flies from Jaemin’s lips as he tosses his shirt back on, ruffling his blond hair in amusement. The man glimpses Giselle’s preoccupied state and looks back at you. With a wink, he says, “I’ll contact you for that blowjob. Later, princess.”

You simply blink as he runs off, escaping before he’s forced to engage in a (tedious) fight. When reality hits you and your mind registers his words, a disturbed scowl settles on your face.

You can’t die yet.

And for now, Na Jaemin seems to think the same as he hints at an upcoming rendezvous.

#neohub #nct u #nct dream #nct #na jaemin #jaemin smut #jaemin scenarios #jaemin oneshot #jaemin imagines #jaemin au #jaemin ff #jaemin fanfic #jaemin x reader #na jaemin x reader

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guiltysungho · 16 hours

Text

— boynextdoor when you say you want to fuck in public

genre. 18+ smut mdni

warning. public sex, oral (f. recieving), fingering, teasing, dirty talk, smell kink, hair pulling, mirror sex

wordcount. 300 - 400 each

a/n. idk how i feel about these tbh but i just want to get it out of my drafts atp. enjoy !

sungho was sure he misheard you, the room was filled with other students studying quietly, you couldn’t possibly want that now. he glances at you with a confused frown, but you really can’t hold yourself back leaning closer to him pressing your lips against his into a soft kiss, sliding your hand on his thigh feeling the heat from his growing member spread across the area. the setting is too risky for poor sungho even though he wants you just as much. his fingers slide around your throat pulling you back gently, holding you at a slight distance from his lips, your eyes just begging for more.

before you can say anything that would send him even more off the edge he grabs your hand leading you to a studyroom. the moment you step in he’s all over you, kissing your neck so hungrily as he presses his body against your you on the wall.

“we have to be quick, okay?” his hands under your skirt grabbing the rim of your panties, pulling them down and into his pocket. you let him work his way on you, thrusting his fingers in your cramped hole, loving how wet and desperate you were, taking out his cock through his zipper.

the thrill drives him wild, knowing that any second now someone would walk into the reserved space made his thrusts deeper. he’s not usually a risk taker but he could never resist you.

riwoo can’t help the smile that grows at the sound of that. the fact that you can’t hold back for a couple hours, and would rather have him fuck you in a theater filled with an audience, was more than attractive to him. luckily for you the area you occupied was less cramped with people and the lights were starting to turn off.

he gives you no warning before sliding his fingers inside your wet cunt, knowing from the soft gasps you let out that you were enjoying every moment of it. watching the way your legs trembled at his touch, forcing you to bite your lower lips to mute the noises you so badly wanted to make.

a movie is about one hour and thirty minutes and he plans on making good use of that time, he wouldn’t let you cum right away you didn’t get that luxury after putting the both of you at such a risk. he’d just leave you more and more needy, toying with your sensitive parts enjoying how hard you struggle to stay calm.

when he finally decides to fuck your aching cunt he sits you on his lap bending you over far enough to not block the large screen, using you like a fucktoy bouncing your ass up and down on his hard shaft. the feeling of your warm walls clenching around his member quickens his motion, the slight noise of your skins clapping seems like the only sound in the room just as you both come to an orgasm with the credits roll. the lights coming on make you realize the gravity of your action, every glance in your direction making you more guilty, but riwoo loved this perverse side of you.

the soft brush of your words against jaehyun’s ears are already enough to make him aroused but the words that come out are even worse. he turns to you with wide eyes wondering why you would joke about that but the desperate look in your eyes made it clear it was no joke, you wanted him right there by the sea.

the beach was basically empty the sun had set and no one was passing by apart from the occasional night walker so it was safe enough but it was a public space there was no saying what could happen.

as he weighed the pros and cons in his mind with you beside him, you take the opportunity to give him sweet kisses on his skin, his sensitive skin, neck down to his pebbled nipples. his fingers running through your hair as you suck on his skin.

“you’re driving me crazy” he breaths out lifting your head back up to meet his lips with yours, moaning softly into your mouth as you get on top of him grinding your lower body against his.

a loud thud from a distance makes him pull away immediately turning over to the sound that was made by the wind knocking over some parasols. you smile at his cute nervousness, placing a soft kiss on his pout. he wraps his arms around your waist as you kneel inside front of him, nuzzling into the comfort of your belly, the smell from your throbbing hole driving him more needy.

soft kisses on your belly down to your bikini bottom, pressing his nose against it, letting his tongue taste the leak escaping through your panties. he unties your bikini delicately, revealing your pretty pussy. he wastes no more time, going in head first kissing your perfect folds. he’s so drunk on the smell, the taste all his worries vanish. his tongue pushing in your walls brush so slightly against your spot making your hips jerk.

he takes such good care of you, sucking gently on your clit, he’s about sure that the lewd sounds escaping your lips at every tongue flick might make him release himself in his trunks but he can’t help himself, he just loves your sweet honey.

taesan smirks at you on the side of the couch after reading your horny text, your feet are rubbing against his growing bulge as you stare at him daringly, he’s amused by it. he wouldn’t have thought you would go so far in a room with your friends but he liked that about you, you were unpredictable.

unbelievable too, he knew this was probably just for show but he wouldn’t let you off so easily. he spreads his legs open leaning back on the seat before tapping his thighs for you to make yourself at home. you make sure to press your ass against him, enjoying all the heat that came from it.

you only dared to do these stuff when you were sure you wouldn’t get caught when all your friends were focused on something else in another room but taesan didn’t care that much for the eyes lingering, you would be the one they would watch because you allowed it happen to yourself, you let yourself get used in such a setting.

his fingers rub against your swollen pearl through your panties feeling your wetness seep through the thin fabric as you struggle to keep still from the feeling. the sudden sound of footsteps bringing you to panic tapping his hand repeatedly for him to stop but action only makes him quicken his pace.

“Is this not what you wanted?” he whispers into your ear, pulling away just as your friend approaches you asking for something so pointless you can’t even think, sending him away with an “i don’t know” your mind completely blurred by the heavy stimulation on your clit.

“Do you still want it baby?” sliding his fingers into your hole he doesn’t need an answer he already knows how desperately you do, turning yourself around to face him thighs around his waist.

you let him take charge, let him use you completely, kissing you so hungrily as he fucks your tight pussy, whispering filthy words on your lips about how naughty you are. he’s so rough with you, making you beg for him to let you cum on his dick after he’d creampied your needy hole.

as he sat there leehan’s eyes were already all over your body, watching you slip in and out of the dresses you’d picked out from the aisles. he was really trying not to make it a big deal but it was like you were teasing him on purpose. bending over to take off your skirts giving him a perfect view of your ass, the lengths of the skirts only getting shorter, his eyes couldn’t budge from your peeking cameltoe as you asked what he thought, nodding absentmindedly before finally tearing his gaze away giving you a tight lipped smile.

he was so oblivious it was cute, he didn’t want to assume anything but you were practically begging for it at this point. you finally make your move taking his hand, pressing his index finger against your cameltoe letting him poke, play with your lips through your panties. he looks up at you begging for more confirmation that he was doing what you wanted.

“this is risky sweetheart… promise you’ll be quiet?” you nod carefully running your fingers through his mane as he mindlessly caresses your thighs with his fingers, letting them glide along your inner thighs. just soft brushes from his fingertips but the feeling is exhilarating making your pussy clench around nothing but air.

“don’t make promises you can’t keep” he smiles at you as he stood up now looking down at you with that cocky smile. he turns you around slowly to look at yourself in the mirror, at how needy you look, as he presses gentle kisses on your shoulder.

the feeling of his cock poking your ass only made you want him inside you more, rolling your hips erotically for him. he didn’t stop his teasing pushing his cock against your hole through your panties, his precum staining the fabric.

he knows you won’t be quiet when he starts fucking you, you never are, so he’ll keep you desperate a little longer to make up for you breaking the promise. it’s not your fault his dick just hits every spot so perfectly you can’t help the moaning and whining.

he wraps his hand around your mouth around your jaw, giving you a soft kiss on the head before thrusting himself inside you, watching the way your eyes roll back in the reflection. your muffled whines against his ears make it so thrilling.

your vision blurs at every thrust, completely lost on the feeling of him inside you, his hard thickness spreading out your pussy like it’s never been used before. he loves how easily you cum for him, letting his fingers stroke your clit as his cock fucks you dumb, watching how beautifully you crumble from his touch. if you ask nicely, he’ll fuck you anywhere as long as you’re quiet.

#bnd #bnd x reader #boynextdoor #gs.files #boynextdoor smut #bnd smut #leehan smut #taesan smut #riwoo smut #sungho smut #myung jaehyun smut

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insult-2-injury · 8 months

Text

Scream Queen - Part 1/2

Gojo Satoru/FemReader

When it comes to horror films, Gojo considers himself a connoisseur. He knows a good chase when he sees one, and he's had his sights set on you for a long time.

AO3 Link

NSFW, 6.3k wc, porn with plot, dirty talk, fingering, pussy eating, masturbation, mild predator/prey

Part 1

Gojo had picked the horror flick that night. Had insisted it was critically acclaimed. But it was just some campy thing where the heroine was running all too slow down a flickering hallway, her screams serving only to alert the pursuing monster of her exact location. The woman’s hair was as beautifully curled as when she’d arrived, her skirt hiked up to her upper thighs, tank top torn in a way that left little to the imagination.

“‘Amazing cinematography’ my ass,” you mumbled. You lay sleepily on Gojo’s couch, head in his lap, his fingers carding through your hair.

“You don’t like?”

“She’s tripped over six times.”

“Yeahhh she’s a little clumsy,” he agreed. “But try and think about it this way: every time she stumbles, her tits go bananas. I mean talk about breaking the fourth wall.”

The woman ran into a room, barricading the door with just a weak press of her shoulder, weeping hysterically. You pointed at the screen, livid. “I can literally see a cameraman standing in the corner! Critically acclaimed? Really?”

“Yeah. Critically acclaimed by my penis.” He frowned. “Did I not say that?”

“No, actually, you failed to mention that, deviant.”

The tug of sleep was beginning to draw your eyes closed, the warmth of his thigh and the drone of shitty TV lulling you into a dreamlike trance. It was a rare occasion that you didn’t like the movies Gojo picked out; in fact this was a first. He actually had a surprising eye for pretty things and a knack for picking out quality flicks you’d never even heard of. But this was… decidedly un-epic.

The sound of wood splintering through indicated the start of yet another chase sequence that you couldn't care less about witnessing.

“Couldn’t be me,” you mumbled, melting further into his lap with a deep sigh, eyes finally closing. “I’m fast as fuck.”

“Yeah?” His voice held more than a touch of amusement. “You’re alright.”

With a cursed technique that granted you a speed on par with the all famous Gojo Satoru, you’d fare more than alright in a horror film.

“You could never catch me.”

The fingers in your hair paused for a good minute before he responded.

“You think?” he said.

Your only response was a sleepy hum.

“Hm.” The fingers continued. “Alright.”

You were too tired to think much of it, honestly, or the fact that you had inadvertently issued a challenge to the most insufferably competitive man you’d ever met.

As your breathing slowed, his touch switched almost absentmindedly to the shell of your exposed ear, sweeping softly along the curve of it. Back and forth. Goosebumps tracked down your arms and you shivered, pulling your legs so tight to your chest that they knocked into his. You opted to ignore the puff of amusement from above – not like you could help that his couch was so comfortable.

Not to mention his apartment was bafflingly huge compared to your 400 square foot rabbit cage – with one of those open plan living spaces boasting enough area to plant a giant sectional couch right smack in the middle of it. But for how filthy rich he was, the place wasn’t ostentatious at all. It was cozy. Blessedly quiet, too, in comparison, even with the constant murmur of background noise that you were convinced Gojo would drop dead without.

His apartment had become somewhat of a home base in recent months for you to decompress after tough missions. It hadn’t been easy finding friends since your move to Tokyo. Not that Gojo had started out as anything close to one. You’d hated his guts at first, actually. Still did sometimes - your first meeting ending with you fuming and him grinning down at you like you were the funniest little creature. He had a habit of that, making people feel small, what with his 6 '3 string bean stature and a perma-smirk that did little to fight off the asshole allegations.

You weren’t sure if you could deign to call whatever this was a friendship, either, with the two of you pushing each other’s buttons like it was your sworn duty to do so. But the bickering was a strange sort of constant in your life, and jujutsu sorcerers didn’t get many of those. So you showed up here time and time again for what? Normalcy? Comfort? Something like that. You just took it for what it was, and Gojo was certainly never one to complain about company.

You dozed off to the thought of how surprisingly cushy his thigh was, even if he was built like a string bean.

A sharp pinch on your earlobe jolted you awake. In an instant, you’d snatched the offending wrist and pulled yourself up. “Ow! The hell was that about?!”

“Whoopsie! Sorry ‘bout that.” Gojo shrunk back from you, his sheepish apology so comically phony he reminded you of a kitten caught testing its boundaries. “Got scared. Hand slipped.”

“You’re so full of shit.”

“Sheesh. Careful, no second chances with this one.”

He was being extra annoying tonight, and you said as much. Grumpily, you released your hold of him and he made a real show of it: inspecting for bruises, rubbing at his wrist and shaking his hand out like he’d been in iron shackles. Worst of all, the movie seemed like it was only a little past the halfway point, which means he hadn’t let you sleep through much of it at all.

“Well.” You clapped your hands together. “you’ve just got to fill me in on what I missed.”

He inhaled.

“Sarcasm.”

His bottom lip stuck out in a pout, his head falling against his shoulder as he regarded you.

“You’re so mean to me.”

With a dramatic huff, you turned and collapsed back into the couch beside him, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the heels of your palms. With senses so finely attuned to Gojo’s impulsive tendencies by now, you blindly knocked his hand away with your forearm before he could reach out to aggressively ruffle your hair in retaliation.

Just as smug as he could be, you crossed your arms and smirked. You’d found he often liked to justify inciting violence by lecturing how a good sorcerer was always on their guard. Well, guess what.

“Who’s the strongest now, bitch? That’s twice now I’ve blocked your ass.”

You caught the tail end of his quiet, mournful suffering – “could’ve seriously been injured…”

“You have a weak constitution.”

He pointed at himself, looking around the room as if to say ‘me?!’ You nodded solemnly.

“Uh oh, I smell jealousyyy,” he sang, fingers drumming a scattered beat on the leather behind your head.

“Yeah? What of?”

He raised his chin with a dazzling smile. “My dainty, effeminate wrists, of course!”

Despite your best attempt, you snorted a laugh. Damn if he didn’t look pleased as punch about it, too.

“Strongest,” you scoffed. “You can’t even stand up from the couch without groaning. Let’s get you home, grandpa…reduced to bone dust if someone tightened your watch band a little too hard–”

You let out an angry squeal when the fingers behind you finally seized the chance to reach up and tousle your hair– not in the cute little gesture of affection kind of way. More in the pure violence for violence sake kind of way. You threw your arms over your head, forehead tucking into your folded knees, shouting over his witchy cackle.

“Strongest guy at the bingo table more like! Stop. Stop!” You smacked at his accosting hand blindly but it was like swatting at a relentless swarm of bees. “THAT’S ENOUGH.”

With one final ruffle, he let you go. You threw him your fiercest scowl.

“I hate you.”

His fiendish laughter trailed into the low, drawn out sound of your name, hummed with a purring appreciation that had your stomach flipping oddly, twisting in knots. You froze. Dear lord, when had you gravitated so close to him? If you tipped your head back, you’d be lying on the crook of his elbow.

Quickly, you averted your gaze and got to work on your hair, smoothing down the devastation he had wreaked upon it. But strangely, his touch never quite left you, knuckles stroking gently at the base of your neck in an unfamiliar act of intimacy. You waited for him to launch an attack again, but he didn’t. Just quietly kneaded his fingers into your spine. The whole thing left you feeling a little stranded by what seemed like an unnerving insinuation of closeness, gaining an invisible weight to it the longer it went uncontested by you.

You blinked and spouted the first lie you could conjure up.

“You make for a terrible pillow, by the way.”

He made a throaty noise of disappointment, studying you a moment longer before turning his attention back to the movie, touch abandoning your neck. “Come into my home…”

“And I’ll walk right back out of it if you’re not careful.”

“Ooh, consider me scared!”

“You should be scared.”

“Don’t I know it.” His long form slouched impossibly further down into his seat, his fingers lacing over his chest before he barked out one startlingly loud laugh, as if he’d just remembered you’d said the funniest thing. “Careful,” he said, a self-satisfied grin beginning to creep across his lips. “You would hate careful.”

You frowned. “What–”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he waved you off. “You can do whatever you want.”

Your jaw clenched at the pet name. But still it took a moment for your brain to kick back into gear. It was just… the way he’d said it that gave you pause, like he knew something you didn’t.

“Shit movie,” was all you could think to say.

“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’, sitting there still with a far-too-pleased grin.

Hit with a sudden bout of nerves, you turned to the coffee table, which was littered with a variety of sweet snacks he’d fished out of his cupboard. Stomach already full and strongly protesting to anything more, you panic-swiped two kit kats and jammed them into your mouth, taking the opportunity to scooch yourself away from him.

For a guy whose cursed technique allowed him to control space, Gojo was awfully oblivious to the concept of it. He was a taker; give him room to spread and he would take it unapologetically. It was no different now, his long form stretching immediately into your space again. His knee chased yours almost mindlessly, leg knocking into yours, bouncing there with a fervor.

“Stop.”

He looked at you with a raised brow. “Heh?”

“You’re encroaching.”

His gaze flicked down, noticing the personal space violation for the first time, blinking, making a small hum of decision. He leaned in close, murmuring into your ear. “Well here’s an idea, yeah?” He grabbed your knee with an outstretched palm. “Go on and walk right out of here, then.”

You could only pray the movie was loud enough that he didn’t hear your breath catch. God, his hands were huge, his long, spidery grip bleeding warmth across your lower thigh and knee.

The feel of Gojo’s breath swept across your cheek as he observed your reactions closely. And you couldn’t help but gulp as a different, more alarming heat burned its way slowly up your thigh like a lit wick.

A thumb brushed featherlight across your bare skin, the pads of his fingers beginning to crawl gently inward to tickle the sensitive skin at the inside of your knee. You quickly jerked your leg away.

“Here’s an idea,” you sputtered, fumbling to find anything clever to say and failing miserably, “stop… being the way that you are.”

“Uh. Alright.” Gojo scratched his head, pulling back to give you the space you thought you wanted. “Don’t know what you want me to do about that, really. Sheesh. What’s a guy to do? Not like I can stop being hot or a genius or whatever. You want me to just ‘say goodbye’ to my baby blues?” He cupped his palm over his mouth in hushed confidentiality. “My giant horse cock?”

You made a horrible retching sound.

He shrugged away your disgust. “Just sayin’, you’ve gotta see it to believe it.”

“Cut it out.”

It was like you’d told him there was strawberry cake on the ceiling the way his eyes lit up, rolled back in his skull, jaw dropping as he threw his head back in fake ecstasy. And you just knew what he was about to do.

Your fist pulled back to prepare what should’ve been a non-punch to his infinity.

“Stop or I will punch all the way through you.”

In an outrageously high-pitched, shrill voice, Gojo moaned.

“Make me, daddy–!”

The words were cut short by a choked grunt as he allowed your fist to connect to the soft of his stomach. Hard. His head lolled backward, a long, appreciative groan slipping from between an open-mouthed grin. The slender column of his throat bobbed as the raunchy noise dissolved into giggles. And you might as well have been struck in the gut yourself with how violently you yanked yourself back from him.

Because Gojo Satoru was beautiful like this. In that stupid, unfair way that made you want to run your tongue up and down his neck just once to see if he was made of real flesh and blood. You shook the thought from your head.

“You’re so weird.”

“You think so?” he asked, voice just a touch raspy.

‘Yeah. I do.”

His eyes rolled coyly to the side to meet yours.

“Brat.”

“Pervert.”

Gojo lifted his head lazily, perfect tufts of snow white falling across his forehead, a dangerous grin stretching slow and wide across his face. “Babe, you have no idea.”

Your face heated, nerves shooting off like a flurry of butterfly wings in your chest. You wanted to hiss at him. What was he playing at anyway? He’d flirt with the likes of a potted fern, but still.

It wasn’t something you could afford to think too hard on. This was just who he was: an irredeemable flirt, someone who couldn’t help but poke around the edges of boundaries just to test the strength of the fenceline. A guy like him wasn’t interested in the long term, anyway, and probably wouldn’t last with someone who didn’t want to sit around and stroke his vanity all day.

Besides, it was nobody’s business but your own whether you occasionally thought about how it might slap his thighs when he walked.

To your growing horror, you found yourself unable to tear your wide eyes away from his; gaping far too long to chalk it up to a mental hiccup. And he was eating it right up if his stupidly smug smirk was anything to go by.

You fell back into your earlier TV watching position, but instead of settling your head in his lap like before, you curled yourself beside him, the crown of your head pressing against his outer thigh. Safer that way, better to avoid his gaze. Mortification burned bright and unbearable in your chest.

“Stop staring. And stop calling me babe.”

“Why should I?”

“Because,” you said sharply.

“Because,” Gojo considered, nodding, seeming to roll the word out on his tongue. He laughed, insincere. “Because! You’re so right.”

You remained stubbornly silent. The pad of his thumb dropped to smooth over the deepening scrunch of your brows and you barely allowed it to stay. It was just a thing with Gojo; his hands always had to be fiddling with something, touching something. And you were usually the closest thing.

That was all.

“Ya know, you get all twitchy when you’re nervous,” his voice purred from above. “You nervous?”

Having little hope that he missed the small shudder that tracked your spine, you craned your neck to shoot him a warning look. But the sight that greeted you had you forgetting how to breathe.

Gojo was studying you with a shocking intensity, the glowing Six Eyes flicking between yours like he was carefully mapping you out. The ghost of a fascinated, greedy sort of grin curled at one corner of his mouth, seeming only to deepen at the sight of your unease. You dropped your head back into the couch, squeezing your eyes shut to will away the stone of want that had lodged itself firmly at the base of your throat.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Never been able to stop you before,” you snipped.

Gojo hummed, undeterred.

So sly that you hardly registered what he was doing until his shadow was looming over you, he repositioned himself, one leg sliding onto the couch so he could turn sideways to fully lean over your balled up form. With a quick move and a scooch forward, you found your head propped on his lap again.

A large palm cut off your furious protests, sliding to cup gently beneath your jaw, two fingers grazing over your clattering pulse. A calloused thumb slid across the seam of your downturned lips.

“Do you like feeling helpless?” he asked softly.

You stilled as a drop of startling heat slithered between your legs. His hand drifted down the column of your throat to follow the contraction of your nervous swallow, like he’d predicted it, like he was fine-tuning an instrument. Shit, you felt so small tucked into his lap like this.

You averted your eyes back to the movie.

“Serial killer question,” you said, wretchedly anxious with him peering down, every tiny response of yours seeming to be dissected and filed away for something sinister.

You pretended to be invested in whatever Oscar-worthy, nonsensical bullshit was happening on screen, the woman now captured in the monster's clutches. That is, until you were thrown headfirst into a crippling silence.

“Hey! I was watching that.”

The remote landed with a loud clatter on the coffee table. “Sorry, baby. Can’t have you holding out on me.”

And then suddenly, the real horror was right here in the dead quiet. The only light source was a soft overhead. With a burst of anger drawn up from a slowly drying well, you rolled onto your back, glowering up at him.

“Can I fucking help you?!”

“Mhmm.”

Your teeth clenched. “What are you even talking about, helpless?”

Gojo propped back on one hand and pretended to think about it. “Ah, you knowww. Scream queen style or whatever. When the cards are down and you’re all played out.” His eyes flicked down your form to where your hands twisted nervously into the bottom of your t-shirt. Then back up, voice dropping pensively. “So fast you’ve probably never felt it, though… being chased down like that, backed into a corner. Never been challenged the way you deserve, I bet. You like the thought of someone who can keep up with you?”

If the body was a chest of drawers, yours overturned all at once. Someone who could keep up with you… Challenge you. Like… him? Your jaw clenched. A desire you didn’t even know you had settled with a pulsing heat in your lower belly.

“So, what I’m hearing, and correct me if I’m wrong.” You stopped, centered yourself with a deep breath. “What I’m hearing is you asking whether I’d get off on being chased?!?

“Get off on it?” Gojo’s jaw dropped, acting as if the idea had only just occurred to him. “Wow. Uh. Dirty girl. Well. Sure I mean, yeah. If you want.”

Your nails scraped across the leather of the couch, trying to distract yourself from how ridiculously enticing the idea was. Because it shouldn’t be at all. Nope. Not to a well-adjusted person. What made it exponentially worse was that the longer you went without storming out of his apartment, the more Gojo looked at you like the cat about to eat the canary. And damn it all, you didn’t hate it.

No. You hated that you didn’t hate it.

“If I want?” you grit out. “First of all, there’s something wrong with you if you get your rocks off on the idea of hunting women. Elmer Fudd over here. Get a grip.”

He smirked. “Be nice, kitty cat.”

Using your elbows, you shoved yourself up, whirling around to sit on your heels so you could better set him on fire with your eyes.

“Why should I?!” you spat his earlier words back in his face.

Gojo went still, his slightly widened eyes flitting across your red-faced indignation. His gaze dropped to your lips as he chewed on his own for the span of a few breaths. Finally, he clucked his tongue. Whistled softly.

“Well, shit,” Gojo said. “Would ya look at that.”

Without an ounce of shame, his hand slid down the front of his pants.

“Wha–”

“Sorryyy,” he sung. “Mind of his own, it’s the darndest thing!”

You gawked at him in disbelief as he casually adjusted himself.

“Really, man?!”

“Oh relaaax. Ever seen one before? Wanna take a peek?”

You tried to clear the image of those long fingers wrapping his cock, bringing himself to completion for you with that same groan he’d demonstrated for you earlier. The thought had you too hot in your skin.

“I’ll kill you. They’ll never stop finding your body.”

“Oh, keep going, I’m almost there!” he groaned theatrically before he shot you a cheeky, lopsided grin. “Gotta give it to you, babe, you really know how to get a guy goin’. I’m half hard and we haven’t even started.” His head cocked just a degree further and suddenly the playful grin he sported gained a sharp, predatory edge, voice dropping in low warning. “Keep looking at me like that. All angry. Sweetens the deal at the end of this thing. Makes it allll worth the wait.”

You swallowed, throat like sandpaper. “Deal?”

“When I catch you.”

You should walk out. You should walk right back out, like you said you would.

Unfortunately, your silence spoke volumes. Frustrated on several different levels, your hands flew up to cover your eyes, fingers pressing into the lids until you saw spots. But nothing could distract from the hyper awareness of the ache between your thighs.

“What do you want?” you asked, voice sounding small.

A long-fingered hand encircled each of your wrists, prying your hands away from your face. He held them hostage, pinning them to your upper thighs so you couldn’t retreat as he leaned in. Your heart stopped when his cheek brushed past yours.

“What I want is the whole thing. Listen. I love it when you play dumb with me. Seriously I do,” Gojo murmured into your ear. “But I think we’ve been sitting on the same page here for quite some time now, yeah? All the fighting, dancin’ around the tension and whatnot. I mean it’s sexy as hell, don’t get me wrong, but we both know it’s just extra bullshit.”

Your entire being was up in flames, face so hot you wondered if he could feel the heat emanating off your cheeks, his own pressed so tightly to yours he could probably feel your jaw work out a response.

“Make your point.”

He laughed, dipped his head, the tip of his nose nuzzling down the slope of your neck. The tiny, experimental flutter of warmth against your skin made you twitch, but the sudden hot drag of his tongue had you violently shuddering, searching for purchase until suddenly you were the one holding onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders. You could practically hear his arrogant smile as he breathed you in long and slow, the following sigh one of genuine contentment.

Gojo leaned back to have a look at you, disgustingly pleased with himself.

“Sure thing. I’ll make my point,” he said. Your arms felt strangely bereft when he moved out of your space, falling limply at your sides. Casual as could be, Gojo settled back into the couch, one ankle perched over his thigh, fingers clasping together like the two of you were discussing weather patterns. “Here’s the thing. I wanna find you, chase you, and fuck you in that order. Think you’d like somethin’ like that? Being pinned down with my cock in you?”

His eyes dropped to the motion of the unsubtle squeeze of your thighs, a razor sharp smile spreading slow across his lips.

“Yeah,” he purred. “Always thought you might.”

“You don’t know shit.”

His eyes flicked back to yours.

“I know that pussy has to be nice and wet by now.” Another spasm of want rocketed between your legs. God, he was so arrogant. “No shame in it, sweetheart. Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll drop the whole thing.”

A palm settled on your knee, thumb stroking in a gesture of mock comfort. His voice was soft. “Orrr you could just admit you’re making a mess of your panties right now hearing me talk like this.”

It was like your strings were cut all at once, your chin tipping to your chest as you lost whatever self-preservation instinct you had left. “Shit,” you whispered.

A finger hooked into the bend of one of your knees, tugging invitingly. His hum was a soft, rolling lull.

“Come here and sit on me.”

You may have been cracking, folding beneath the weight of your desire, but nothing could have dulled the precision of the homicidal glare you leveled him with.

“Think you have it in you to shut up for like six seconds?”

Gojo laughed. “Damn, my girl gets mean when she’s frustrated, huh?” At your lack of response, his smile dwindled and he seemed to truly consider you, taking in your stiff form. His gaze fell unabashedly between your legs again, tongue running along his teeth in deliberation. “You want me to eat you out a little? Loosen you up?”

Your jaw clenched as the mental image tore across your mind: hooded blue eyes looking up from between your legs, warm tongue put to work lapping at your cunt – he always did like to stay busy. Shit, why could you conjure up that image so well?

Because Gojo had looked at you like that before, hadn’t he? Like he wanted to take you apart, piece you back together. You’d just been too blind to see it.

He continued, his other hand reaching out now so both were hooked behind your knees. “Yeah… Yeah. That’s what you need. About time, too, huh. Makes my dick so hard just thinking about it. C’mere.”

“I don’t–”

In a single movement, you were pulled off balance, falling flat on your back. He cut off your yelp of outrage, seized your ankles, spun and dragged you to the edge of the couch, your thighs now bracketing his. You squirmed, head spinning as you panted up at him with searching eyes. It wasn’t a comfortable position you’d been suddenly squeezed into, your head bent awkwardly against the back of the couch, trapped in a slouched position by the oppressive energy coming from the man standing between your spread legs.

Gojo loomed above. His fingers twitched at his sides, drawing your attention there and then directly over to the glaring evidence of his arousal pressing against the front of his pants. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Feels like I really don’t even have to check,” he breathed, hungry gaze trailing across your body like he couldn’t decide what to focus on. “Just know you’re soaking. It’s crazy.”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he said again, tongue darting out to wet his lips. Last chance.

“I– you’re… F-fuck you.” His grin was deadly, eyes sparkling in dark victory. It was unsettling, how much you wanted to fall headfirst into that blue.

Gojo Satoru collapsed on his knees like he was about to start muttering prayers. He tugged you closer, the weight of his head falling against your inner thigh with a satisfied hum. Laying there so he could simply observe the slight quiver in your legs as he slowly drew his oversized palms up and down any bare skin available to him.

“Fuck. Look at you,” he murmured, breath sweeping across the damp crotch of your sleep shorts like he was talking right into your clothed pussy.

At the sound of your tiny, pathetic squeak, his shoulders shuddered violently. He slid forward, fingers hooking into the hem of your shorts, teasing there. His eyes raised with a hooded intensity, holding yours for a few heated seconds. Terribly slow, he let his jaw drop, tongue unveiling itself, and leaned forward to press it firm and flat against the thin fabrics covering your entrance, letting the heat bleed from his mouth. A groan choked out of your throat, coming out more as a grating wheeze, the noise met with a gleaming, wicked satisfaction.

“So the…” you swallowed thickly, voice so ragged it was almost completely foreign. “The thing with eating pussy is you have to remove my-”

There was a sharp, reprimanding smack on your thigh. “Don’t start.”

You half expected him to rip your shorts right off; you wouldn’t have been opposed. But Gojo instead rolled the hem down little by little, so torturously slow your fingers ached with how hard they dug into the couch with anticipation. He nipped, sucked bruises into the skin as it was exposed, gently guiding you to lift your hips so he could pull your bottoms the rest of the way.

His eyes danced in wonder across the arousal that you could feel being squeezed from you just by his appraisal. “Shit,” he exhaled, his warm breath brushing gently across your soaking cunt. You gasped, legs automatically attempting to clamp together. To get away. When was the last time you’d been this vulnerable to anyone?

“No, no. Nope. None of that,” he reprimanded, pushing your knees into your chest, spreading your legs more lewdly for his perusal. “Lemme see what I did to you.”

“I– I c-can’t.” You averted your gaze. It was all too much: the sight of Gojo Satoru kneeling between your legs, looking as if he’d let the world burn just to get a taste of you. He breathed across you again, his mouth so damn close that you wanted to start tearing at his hair.

“Shit,” he said again. “Pussy got hot hearing me talk about how hard I’m gonna fuck it later.”

You couldn’t help but let out a muffled cry when two fingers stroked down your slit, pressing against the entrance to your pussy, swirling there. He coated the tips of his fingers thoroughly in your wetness, raising them to the light just to slowly scissor them apart. Watch your own fluid stretch thin between them before going back for more, just lightly teasing. Your face felt impossibly hot, chest rising and falling in short gasps, chasing the stroke of his fingers, needing something to clench around, the slow spread of your slick too ridiculously loud in the quiet room.

“You always this wet for me, baby?”

“I d-didn’t think your head could get any bigger.”

Gojo hummed in amusement, giving no warning before he began to slowly ease two fingers inside you. A string of expletives punctuated the air as your cunt throbbed and clamped down in relief, accepting him greedily.

“Look at that,” he said, hooking the long digits inside you and pulling another whimpered curse from your lips. He took his time dragging them out, pushing them back in with an obscene squelch. “You’re a sweet girl letting me finger fuck you like this. Shit, look at your pussy suckin’ on my fingers. So fucking hot… my girl letting me do this to her.”

“You–You’re- I d-” You attempted to mouth off, snap back that you didn’t belong to him, but a targeted curl of his fingers cut you off at the pass.

“I know,” he crooned. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

A thumb pressed into your clit and your back arched as bolts of pleasure shot up your spine, hips rolling with the pump of his fingers, chasing more. You needed more. You couldn’t even breathe you needed it so badly.

Gojo bit the inside of your thigh, moaning obscenely and latching harder when you yelped in pain and smacked him hard in the head.

“Ow. What the– what the fuck,” you gasped, although you hadn’t really disliked it at all. He soothed the sting away with little licks.

“Sorry,” he said insincerely, voice in shreds now, strained with an odd concentration. “Wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve whacked off to the thought of this right here. But now look at you spreading your pretty legs for me. Still tryin’ to act like you’re not starved for my cock after all this time. Making me wait like that. Dripping your cum all over my couch. Makes me fucking crazy. Filthy girl. You’re my filthy girl, aren’t you? Ffuck,” he hissed.

It took you too long in your blissed out state to realize his shoulders were rocking slightly, and not just from the push and pull of his fingers inside you. “And my sweet girl’s gonna let me hunt her down, isn’t she? Spit on her tits, slap her, fuck her from behind.”

You couldn’t see it, but there was no doubt now that Gojo was masturbating himself in tandem. Thrusting his hips, not fast enough to relieve himself, just to appease the torment. God, he was vulgar, he was disgusting. He was sexy. He was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

With a wet schlick, his fingers pulled out of you. And you could only assume from the way both his gaze and hand fell down to his lap that he was spreading your cum along his cock. Fingers wrapping himself, Gojo choked on something between a salacious moan and a manic laugh. His eyes slid up to yours dangerously.

A quick flash of pink was all you got before he was leaning forward and sliding his tongue through your drenched folds. Finally, you let loose the keening cry that had been stuck in your chest. Your spine felt close to snapping with how hard it pulled taut, your fingers leaping from their death grip into the couch cushion to embed deep in his soft hair, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.

A long, appreciative groan came from deep in his chest and he sighed, relaxed further into his task. One hand fisted around his cock, the other wrapped round one of your thighs to draw you closer, hand splaying across your lower belly to better hold you down. The rough pad of his thumb found your clit, dragging tight circles.

With long strokes of his tongue, he lapped at the wetness collecting at your entrance. You wanted him to go higher, needed his mouth elsewhere, for that wet heat to replace the thumb steadily masturbating you. You dipped your hips to guide him there but he didn’t relent, tongue fucking into your cunt with the same aching slowness. It was like this wasn’t even for you.

“Gojo,” you said weakly. He just hummed, the vibration sending arcs of pleasure up your spine. God you were so close already. You just needed… “G-Gojo.”

Still he didn’t speed up, acted like he hadn’t even heard you. And it pissed you right off. He wanted the whole thing, didn’t he? He’d said that before. Gojo Satoru wanted you. Badly. He was good, but so were you. Gojo was a man who took. Had taken his entire life. He didn’t want someone who sat around and stroked his vanity. No. He wanted someone who took, too. He wanted you.

A rising anger loosened your tongue.

“Gojo, you f-fucking prick,” you spat. “Take your hand off your fucking cock and do this the right way.”

Deliberately, his tongue pulled from you, thumb still working you at an infuriatingly slow pace. A lazy, dangerous grin began to crawl across his lips, still wet with your juices.

“Careful,” he warned.

“I hate careful.”

Something dazed crossed his face then, like you’d struck him square across the face. He shuddered, his eyes darkening, glimmering suddenly with an almost terrifying devotion.

And then both his hands were on you.

Arms wrapped under your thighs, palms splaying to lock your hips down completely. A blessed heat enveloped your clit with a gentle suction, tongue fluttering where you had so desperately needed it.

“Ffffff” was all you could manage, your back arching, unable to even watch him like you wanted to as your body contorted with the pleasure shooting to a quick crescendo.

“Shitshitshitshit,” you cried, fingers yanking at his hair, uncaring whether it hurt him, shoving his face impossibly further into your pussy. A vulgar, encouraging groan left him and with one final suck and a flicker of his tongue, you were sailing into oblivion. You clawed at him, a string of filthy curses stuck in your throat as you spasmed against him. It was long, debilitating, and drawn out by warm, slow slides of his tongue against you as he continued to lap up what you spilled, murmuring soft praises.

Your spine laid flat against the couch again as you collapsed with satisfaction, the pleasure still buzzing like a livewire across your skin. You twitched with sensitivity when his thumbs spread you apart, observing the final, tiny convulsions of your pussy.

“I– you’re amazing,” he groaned, like he was imagining himself deep inside you. “God, baby I… I wanna ruin you. My fucking cock is…” His forehead fell between your thighs for a second, like he was gathering himself. “I’m so fucking hard.”

Gojo leaned back on his heels as you sat up, assisting as you pulled your pants back up. He helped you up on shaky legs, until the two of you stood looking at each other, him unmoving, just eyeing you silently with a dark intensity.

Gently, you pulled his face down to yours, placing a short, gentle kiss to his lips.

You pulled back.

“I really do hope you’re as fast as they say you are.”

And you disappeared.

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #no use of y/n #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut

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happilychee · 4 months

Note

do u write for acno?????

If so, please feed us with acnologia x reader 🙏🏻🙏🏻 headcanons, anything ill take it please the people are starved

I haven't considered acno before; he's not really a character I like to explore thaaat much, but I tried lol

these came out pretty angsty bc I really don't think there's a way to survive a relationship with acnologia given how he ends up :(

acnologia x reader headcanons

cw: mentions of child death and injuries; overall angst

♡ probably the only way to have a feasible relationship with acnologia is if you meet him when he's a human. the fiore of 400 years ago is nothing like modern times. it's wild, lush, vibrant, and dangerous. dragons roam freely, not just present but overpowering, and you're a meager human. still, you know you want to help your people in any way you can. you become a healer, and that's how you meet doctor acnologia.

♡ healing is a difficult job, and you spend many sleepless nights in the infirmary with acno mixing potions and balms and salves. you don't miss the way his eyes widen when your fingers brush against his as he hands you the mandrake root. he doesn't miss your tiny smile as his hand ghosts over your lower back when he passes you to weigh ingredients.

♡ it's a quiet relationship that blooms out of solidarity, a shared passion for healing, and dedication. you're both calm people, and despite the daily threat of dragons, you don't think anything could shake your relationship with the logical, ever-rational man working beside you. and yet.

♡ it's a day like any other. except a mother runs in wailing, her child dead in her arms. there's nothing you could have done, not with your healing prowess or with acnologia's medical expertise, because the child was killed by a dragon. you can't stop yourself from cringing at the mangled flesh, the smell of charred skin. acnologia is quiet, and neither of you can say anything to console the woman sobbing on your infirmary floor.

♡ things are different after that. acno doesn't engage you in witty banter or philosophical conversation. he eats less and less. he disappears at night. the work has always been split evenly between the two of you, but now you find yourself measuring ingredients and keeping the books. those were always acno's jobs.

♡ acnologia comes home covered in blood. it's not his. you can tell because it's black. the black blood of a fucking dragon, and suddenly you're dragging him into the back room, tears streaming down your face as you try to get answers from him. his voice is monotone as he confesses. you feel the world spin as the words dragon slayer magic, dragon festival, and dragon king run through your head. still, you patch him up.

♡ the days get longer and the nights shorter. acnologia seems calmer but... more distant. you notice the blood under his fingernails (not his. never his.) and the bags under his eyes, but damn is he good at distracting you. you know you should leave. you know dragon slayer magic is corruptive. you know what acnologia will turn into, but you relish every night that you can hold him close and press kisses to his crown.

♡ you rub salve into the scales that spread across acno's arms and cheeks. he brings you shiny stones and pretty glass. calls them courting gifts. it never fails to make you laugh. you eat more meat for dinner. you don't ask where it's from. you run the front end of the infirmary completely by yourself now, while acno stays in the back and prepares you potions. he doesn’t want to scare the kids that come to see you, and you take it as a sign of his persevering humanity. you start to think that maybe the idyllic life you've built together can go on forever.

♡ all you can think about is how green your village was, before it was consumed by dragon fire. the smoke makes your eyes burn, but you can't move from under the rubble. you can feel the dragon more than see it, its footsteps reverberating in your chest. you shut your eyes, tears streaming down your face, and accept death. but it doesn't come.

♡ your sweet, dear acnologia is unrecognizable. a blur of black and blue that makes the dragon screech in pain. it's quick, it's lethal, and it's terrifying. the dragon is dead, and you're sobbing for all that's changed in the past few years. the way acnologia pulls you out of the rubble isn't human, but it isn't dragon either. he clings to you, caresses your face, his worried words coming out in growls and roars. all you can do is reach up, brush your thumb across his cheek, and smile. it's still him, still your dear acnologia.

♡ you wake up on the outskirts of a town, bandaged roughly. you don't see acnologia for a long, long time after that fateful night. you set up a new infirmary, you treat new patients, you never forget the little boy with a constant sniffle that died in the dragon attack. and you never forget acnologia. in the dead of night, you let yourself imagine him coming home.

♡ it's so similar, you're getting deja vu. the town is burning, and you can barely breathe. you can move this time, though, and you run because you know he's not coming to save you. you make it to the edge of the forest, so close to safety. but a dragon blocks your path. scales dark as night, electric blue markings, and eyes that pierce your very soul.

♡ you fall to your knees and sob. you could never, never run from acnologia, even if it meant the end for you. you only wish that this won't hurt him. you look straight into your beloved's eyes, and you smile. tears streaming down your face, ash covering your cheeks, arms burned and angry red. you've never looked more beautiful. you close your eyes and wait for death. it doesn't come.

#ambiguous ending but uh. also not that ambiguous lol #lychee writes #acno was a healer and look where he ended up :(( what he became :((#we should've gotten full acno backstory lowkey underdeveloped w so much potential #fairy tail #fairy tail headcanons #fairy tail x reader #acnologia

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luna-baby01 · 10 months

Note

Luna Gets the Biggest

You're stuck in bed full-time now, and you're not even pregnant... yet. It's been a year since you gave birth to a record-shattering set of vigintuplets that caused you to be put on bed rest by your doctor only a month in and get up to 1300 lbs. just before you gave birth, completely immobilized by your staggering pregnancy, your pregnant stomach pressing so hard into the ceiling that you were worried you might break through it. You had thought that you'd get above half a ton when you got pregnant this time, but you smashed that barrier with a combination of twenty whole fetuses spurring you on to eat yourself into a massive boulder of matronly maternal flesh and having virtually no significant movement during your pregnancy, stuck in bed, pinned down by your heaving belly, a turtle stranded on her back. An enormously fat and pregnant turtle, for sure. 400 lbs. of baby and amniotic fluid came out of you that day, slightly under a third of your total body weight.

The damage had definitely been done to your body, though. Being 900 lbs. postpartum left you stranded in bed, unable to get up without assistance, probably for the rest of your life. You lost a significant chunk of that, though, "slimming" down, if you could even call it that at this point, to 800 lbs. simply because you could not maintain that weight. Though even your non-pregnancy appetite was the stuff of legend now and your metabolism had slowed down significantly from what it was before your first pregnancy, there was simply no way you could eat enough to keep yourself that heavy. It wasn't even a question of breastfeeding, that alone wouldn't've been able to put a dent in your poundage, you just simply could not eat enough to keep yourself that fat without a clutch of babies in your guts.

Since you now have forty children, your house had now become too small for your absurdly large family and you had to move to a much larger one, having the walls of your room broken down to get your fat ass out of your old one. It was much more comfortable for you, your husband, and your teeming flock to be in such a large house, your children having enough room to play both inside and out, including with you. You couldn't do much. You couldn't even get up on you own power to see them, but your kiddos went over to you and loved their how soft their big cuddly mama was, and most importantly, they loved you. Of course, your new bedroom was much larger than what you were in at your old house, able to accommodate your mass as it was... and if you got bigger.

You and your husband weren't dumb, despite how overloaded your brain gets during pregnancy. You both knew that you were going to get pregnant again, and soon. Even though you're so fat you can't walk, your husband putting another ridiculous number of babies in your belly without incident would be inevitable, and you two chose your new house with this in mind. More room in your bedroom for you to grow and more bedrooms for your ever-increasing number of children. Your house was a mansion, which thankfully your husband was able to afford. How he was able to afford what only very few people on Earth would be able to buy was anyone's guess, but you decided to keep yourself ignorant of that fact in case it was something less than savory. You had more important things to think about, like getting your guts stuffed full of food, children, and dick. The one thing you missed about your old house was the creaky floorboards, but that wasn't really your concern then since you weren't able to walk anymore, anyway.

That did not keep you from thinking about how much of a dumb, bloated, fattened breeding sow you were and were going to become soon again, your entire existence dedicated to nothing but feasting, gestating, and fucking with absolutely nothing else on your mind during your pregnancies, a goddess of fertility in human form. A veritable human termite queen. That was when you were the happiest, and you were going to be that happy again. Both you and your husband were ready for you to grow even larger than even the behemoth you have become now. You're a greedy girl, your size alone made that obvious. You wanted some babies in your guts and you wanted them NOW!

Your husband, solely devoted to you, your children, and creating more of them, was rearing to get at you just as much as you were at him, even though you were a complete whale at this point. He had to do all the work, making you quiver underneath him. He got his jollies out of this, too, your soft body a waterbed of flesh bouncing around with each of his thrusts, you two waiting for his seed to turn your belly hard once again as it swelled with a new brood. Both of you were screaming in ecstasy. though thankfully (or perhaps it was something you missed) your moans and yelps during the throes of passion didn't cause as much of a commotion like they used to, with both your room and your house so big that those screams woke neither your children nor your neighbors, of which you had so much land attached to your house that you basically had no neighbors who'd be able to hear the freight train of fucking going on and make noise complaints like last time (something I forgot to mention).

"Get me pregnant, get me fucking pregnant!" you shouted, thinking of nothing else but your husband and the absolutely gargantuan cow he was going to turn you into with this new batch of children you were so eager for him to put inside you. "Make me massive! Get me all the way to a ton! Make me break down the walls of this room! I'm nothing but a baby factory designed to swell with children, and it's all for you!" the latter an uncharacteristically unselfish statement of you to make while in the middle of the horizontal mambo. You were greedy, and you liked being greedy. Your burning desire to swell enormous with child was driving you to this, but you did it for your husband, too. "Fill me with your seed and your children! FILL ME UP! FILL ME UP!!!" you screamed, about to know pleasure like you had never experienced before. The two of you, like all those other times before, did this for at least a week, keeping yourselves quite busy, waiting for the inevitable outcome.

And that moment was realized. A month after those marathon sessions with your husband, you found out you were pregnant again, because of course you were. You simply could not keep yourself from getting pregnant and turning into an enormous breeding sow. The cravings your new brood gave you had you eat yourself up to 900 lbs. again, your voracious maternity-induced appetite showing itself on your body once more. Your doctor, who had to keep himself from screaming at you for getting pregnant again, just wanted to make sure you were healthy at this point. And of course, the moment of truth you and your husband were waiting for had come. Waiting for the announcement of just how pregnant you were going to be and how massive you were going to get drove you insane, your mind pregnant (heh) with anticipation. Your doctor struggled to get a clear reading on the ultrasound through all of the fat on your stomach, but he got it. Forty embryos had been detected. You were having quadragintuplets. That thought sent you into orbit, having a set of consecutive orgasms on cue, your eyes rolling deep back into your head. You screamed at your husband that you'd get past a ton during the first of those steamy fucks that got you in this state, but now you think you were going to surpass even that. Thank God you got that new house, eh?

At the end of the first trimester, you were the size you were when you gave birth the last time, growing exponentially with each pregnancy. You were 1300 lbs., your belly more than three times the size of your body with forty fetuses inside of it, spurring you on to grow fatter and heavier with each orgy of food your husband helped you push past your lips. Your mind was truly mush at this point, both pregnancy brain and arousal driving you mad and unable to think about anything else other than getting food in your stomach, growing your babies, and lying back with your husband inside you making you scream wildly every few hours. The two of you simply could not be stopped from going at each other, or really your husband since you were powerless to stop him, but holy Hell, did you not want to stop him.

"God, I'm getting massive for you!" you screamed during one of the steamier fucks you had then. "I do nothing but have my face, womb, and pussy stuffed! I'm gorging myself all day long and getting fatter & heavier with your babies! They're making me so hungry I just can't stop! MMMM!!!"

"Are you going to get to a ton and burst the walls of your room like you said you were?" your husband replied, wanting to drive you as mad with lust as possible.

"YES! YES! I'M GOING TO BLOW UP AND MAKE THIS ROOM EXPLODE! KEEP FEEDING ME! KEEP STUFFING ME! KEEP FATTENING ME! KEEP ME PREGNANT! KEEP DOING THIS TO ME OVER AND OVER! MY BELLY WILL NEVER BE EMPTY AGAIN! AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

The two of you made a serious mess of your bed, coming down from a high that was simply indescribable. You HAD to keep doing this. You just had to.

The end of the second trimester was even better. Your stomach was now twenty feet above your head, and you still didn't come anywhere close to filling the confines of your room, making sure to make that room as large as possible to accommodate your ludicrous pregnancies. This was not normal, but you were used to things not being normal ever since you first got knocked up with decuplets and ate yourself into an elephantine food balloon. You were truly a hippo. A heifer. Fattened up at the irresistible insistence of that legion of babies kicking at you to keep on gorging. Your husband made good on his promise, keeping you filled up both with comestibles and himself. You obviously couldn't reach around to pleasure yourself anymore. You had that happen before when you got so heavily pregnant you couldn't reach around your stomach, but that became permanent since your got pregnant the third time, with you already so fat and so pregnant that that would never become a possibility for you again. You were burning with a need that only your husband could fulfill because you couldn't do so yourself, and boy did he do his best to satisfy you. Even you two were shocked at how you were able to go at it so many times in one day, let alone at all. Your husband practically never left your side except to order all of your chefs around or bring the children of yours not currently gestating within to you when you wanted to see them or they wanted to see you, marveling at the mountain of a woman your husband had turned you into, knowing that there would be twice as many of them as there are now. Your pleasure was completely at the mercy of your husband, something that actually got you turned on more than you thought it would. You needed him, and he needed you.

Time went both slow and fast for you. Slow enough for you to savor being trapped underneath a boulder of a belly and an avalanche of fat, but it was still too fast for you, knowing that it would all be over in just a few months. You wanted to be this pregnant forever, not wanting to shrink back down ever again. You just wanted to keep a gaggle of children inside of you forever, growing ever larger for all eternity, but you knew that wasn't possible. That thought kept you going during the rare instances when your husband wasn't waiting on you sexually, which you needed constantly. It's a nice fantasy, but it couldn't be made into reality. Or could it?

That thought would have to be set aside for now, though. You had finally arrived at your due date, and just like the last three times, nary a contraction had graced your uterus. Your stomach, hard as a rock even with all that fat on it, surged thirty feet above your head. You were truly nothing but a machine designed for glutting on fattening food and making babies. A complete lack of self control when it came to food and sex got you here, and there was nothing that could be done to stop it, nor did you want to. You were in horny delirium at all waking hours, your babies growing fat in your womb making you wonder how much more food you could stuff into yourself, the hormones they controlled making you salivate at the thought of wiping an all-you-can-eat buffet bare, a one-woman swarm of locusts. And this was all your husband's doing, your mind being manipulated to this extent to crave both food and sex at all hours of the day, and all because he stuck his dick inside you & fertilized you with his seed. Forget about a human termite queen, you were way past that at this point. Your gargantuan body filled with babies took up almost a third of your room now, but still you wanted to get even larger, consequences be damned! A ton came and went. You were more than 2,000 lbs. of breeding sow filled with babies making your bed groan under your weight whenever you moved slightly or even whenever one of your children kicked inside of you. The loss of not hearing the floorboards creek underneath your girth whenever you waddled around more pregnant than ever was more than made up for by this. And it was only going to get better.

The time for your customary induction two weeks after your due date had arrived, and you were somehow even more massive than before. You grew more quickly in that time than you ever had before, your belly rounding out to a total of thirty-three feet thrusting above your head and gorging yourself up to a long ton. You were physically ready to give birth, but not mentally. Not that you weren't mentally prepared for the struggle of giving birth, that wasn't it. Unlike the last three times, you weren't mentally prepared to stop being pregnant. You didn't want to know of anything else but pregnancy, constantly growing until the end of time. You had to figure out how to make that happen, Lord knows you've already accomplished the impossible with a quadragintuplet pregnancy and reaching a weight never once held by a human being before. But right now, your body had to get those kids out of you, and you brought forty new wonderful lives into the world.

Lying there, exhausted from the ordeal of childbirth and just there no being not exhausted from being so fat, you were already thinking about how you were going to get knocked up again, and this time permanently.

Fin

I have reached my ultimate form as a 1 ton baby factory🥵🥵🥵

#huge pregnant belly #hyper pregnancy #gigantic pregnant belly #big pregnant belly #pregnant #pregnancy #pregnantbelly #sexy pregnant #pregnancy kink #massive #round belly #ready to explode #ready to burst #ready to pop #multiples pregnancy #multiples

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laurens0 · 1 year

Text

Incorrect quotes pt.4

Mw2 x male reader

Genre: crack

Characters: soap, price, gaz, soap, Alejandro, graves, Rodolfo, ghost

Warnings:

————————————————————————

Y/n: dad.. I have something to tell you..

Price: 🤨.. go on

Y/n: I’m gay..

Price: I knew that- I mean, thank you for telling me

————————————————————————

Y/n: I was put on this earth to do one thing.

Y/n: Luckily I forgot what it was so I can do whatever I want.

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Graves with a gun to y/n’s head*: What happens if I pull this trigger? Heaven?

Y/n: Bold of you to assume I'll go to Heaven.

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Y/n: What if mayonnaise came in cans?

Soap: Well, that would such because you can't microwave metal.

Price: Good morning to everyone except these two people.

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Graves: Where's 141?

Y/n: They're playing hide and seek.

Graves: Where?

Y/n: I don't think you get how this game works.

————————————————————————

Soap: Dumbest scar stories, go!

Ghost: I burned my tongue once drinking tea.

Alejandro: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and it burned.

Gaz: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade.

Price: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it in my hand and I got a really bad burn.

Y/n: I have emotional scars.

————————————————————————

Graves: I will find the missiles.. AND I WILL-

Y/n: Could you maybe just like… stab me… right in the gut. Just REALLY twist it in there. ‘Cause that honestly seems less painful than this conversation.

————————————————————————

Y/n: We can bake these cookies at 400 degrees for 10 minutes or 4,000 degrees for 1 minute.

Ghost: No, that's not how you make cookies.

Soap: FLOOR IT!!

Y/n: How about 4,000,000 degrees for 1 second?!?

Ghost: yOU'RE GONNA BURN THE HOUSE DOWN-

Y/n: I'M GONNA HARNESS THE POWER OF THE FUCKING SUN TO MAKE COOKIES!

Soap: DO IT!

Ghost: NO-

————————————————————————

Y/n: I'm not doing to well.

Rodolfo: What's wrong?

Y/n:I have this headache that comes and goes.

*graves enters the room*

Y/n: There it is again.

————————————————————————

Y/n: look at us… who would’ve thought? Not me

Soap: what

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FEM ALIGNED DNI

Reblogs are greatly appreciated:)

#call of duty mw2 #captain john price #ghost mw2 #gn reader #mw2 x male reader #mw2 x reader #mw2 x you #john soap mactavish #gaz cod #simon ghost riley #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra #philip graves #soap mw2 #gaz x reader

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bentosandbox · 30 days

Text

Ambience Synesthesia tutorial blog

rambled this out because I didn't have inflight wifi otw home and the turbulence was too crazy to draw

Buying the ticket

erm so they only dropped the tickets like slightly less than a month before lol kinda insane

The concert tickets were sold on Damai so you need a CN number or know/pay someone with one who'd buy it for you which is what I did by recommendation (A tier 1280 + 400 'service fee' [apparently it would have been cheaper if they only helped you half way or something but i wasnt gonna risk running into a payment hiccup so]) Iirc they sold it in two batches but I don't remember the ratio split between first and second wave…

I got a ticket for 5/5's afternoon show (so the second last performance), I DID meet an oomf who said they managed to snag a ticket for themselves on their own (without a Professional Ticket Snatcher) so its not too impossible to attain on your own I think??? (I didn't get a CN number until like 2 days before I flew back home soo)

Professional Ticket what?? Uhhh apparently there's a whole industry/scene for this you look for listings on xianyu/taobao etc for people to buy on your behalf, you have to give them your real name and identification number (so for foreigners it'd be your passport number) for verification purposes during entry so yknow yea

getting there

You could cab directly to the venue but my friend signed us up for the free shuttle bus (they had freebies last year but not this time) and before we boarded they gave us like free water and bread (apparently free raincoats too on rainy days) which was nice of them but also insane because. the venue doesn't allow you to bring food/drinks in so a lot of people were leaving A LOT of unopened bottles near the gate and I saw a venue staff just throwing them all into the bin (HOPEFULLY JUST TO CARRY THEM AWAY IN ONE GO AND NOT FOR STRAIGHT DISPOSAL….) They drop you off near the venue but you don't go in directly, there's a 'Doctor break room' where most people are seated waiting to be ushered in batches into the venue, but also a lot of people standing around on one side of the room swapping/offering merch

merch swap

ive been told this is a very concert culture thing but i feel like its kind of different because a lot of these are so high quality ike…you could sell them at Artist Alleys but here they are just distributing for free if you have a E2 60 blorbo lmao or whatever (there seems to be a tiny…? minority that prints official art but most of them seem to be handdrawn/made)

i was too unprepared for this lol i did exchange some of my old stickers (missed out on a collapsal plastic fan bc my brain lagged when the guy asked me and i went to my auto 'sorry i dont have any merch' response' :( regretted this bc the room got a little hot from the amount of people in there and i was wearing like 3 layers with that fan on my mind)

from people watching a lot of trades are arranged beforehand on weibo/other sites unless you're willing to yell WHO WANTS TO TRADEEE/anyone wants freebies (a lot of people were also wearing 'Feel Free to Swap Merch/Ask for Freebies' tags) which i was definitely not brave enough to do lol… met up with an oomf i got to know from last dec when i attended an arknights only and they gave me some birbs and charms (bottom of post), there was someone who got a free LGD zine and charm from me bc i posted on wb that id give a free copy to anyone with a Mod 3 swire/swummer LMFAO

I had 2 more people to meet but, uhhh so I bought an esim for mobile data and it would intermittently lose signal here and there which was a little annoying when getting coffee but it just died entirely when i reached the venue and it was kind of Dire because i was waiting for one more friend who was coming over from the fes and i couldn't contact them lmao. told the friend i came with to go in first because I thought if my food got confiscated at least my oomf could see it beforehand LOL

waited outside in a light drizzle for an hour trying to trouble shoot my data to no avail and ended up borrowing a staff's wifi hotspot to get my entry qr code (I actually bought a second data roaming plan on my local sim but i quite stupidly did not check the country coverage and only learned later that night that 'Asia' doesn't cover China kuxiao) she was so nice i was (bow emoji) so sorry to trouble you im a stupid gaijin and she was like no its ok enjoy shanghai!! pien

spent a good 30min next to this board praying for data to no avail

the show

erm anyway because of that clownery above i more or less missed the first piece (the one w the goated hoho) but at least i wasnt the guy next to me who went for a bathroom break right before starset came up

The live singing this year was definitely an improvement I think… I can't really remember the setlist off the top of my head but I'm sure someone else has already listed it out, there were a couple of new pieces that weren't related to the concert groups like a Babel/Kazdel?? one sung in Latin, a Victoria…? one (in victorian ofc) also an Amiya (? just remembering by the visuals they used lol) one in Japanese

ohh yeah so almost every track would start with like a faction logo transitioning in from 3d to 2d which was cool but also amusing because it was honestly bringing quite the 'I will Make Your Company Logo Into 3D Fiverr' vibes

Since I missed the first piece idk if any of The Dreamer(s) got 3D models but The Pilgrim(s why are they all singular) had Kaltsit playing on that piano (there was also a replica of that piano on stage the white one complete with 'Arknights' text on it lmao) and Siege being cool running around in 3D (and ofc Eureka during her denpa number) it was very cool but man... its a pity the other characters in the group just get their live2d png during the beginning and effectively get sidelined lool compared to say Phenomenal Agents idk if i like this tradeoff but that eureka bit was so good sheesh #NOVAFIVE⭐ULTRALIVESWEEP

The other stuff was really great too looking at you Lone Trail medley…!!!!! I might be wrong but I... assume... you're encouraged to karaoke bc they always show the lyrics on screen… I couldn't even hear myself anyway but it was very fun singing songs you can't get on joysound/etc with a whole crowd going at it too (even if most of them would only sing 1-2 lines of the chorus)

Mary Clare did Radiant (they had the lyrics scrolling on the sides very cool) and iirc the Throne group's song...? Radiant was so fun live

Starset did Monster > Telescope and when the latter ended they were like Bye! and we(?) started yelling ENCORE--awkwardly because idk how they do it here (I was half expecting it to be JP style 'an-call-roo' but a bunch of us just yelled en-core en-core here and there until they returned to perform Infected) speaking of yelling.. between every piece when they had to switch sets people would just yell memes or skill names (like Dage's) to pass the time or sth i barely caught half of whatever they were memeing about

did i forget to mention anything else uhhh originium rock turntable for Guide Ahead's boss theme/Dossoles Lobby and they had IS4 medley live throat singing very cool also the dancers they got for silbenherze's boss theme good stuff...

iirc after starset was like a behind the scenes video of how HG prepared for AS and a recorded lowlight video saying some stuff that i forgot LOL just some thank you message basically. 9.5/10 bc no missy/shu EP live

i just realised i forgot to display all the merch from the A tier ticket but w/e. light stick photo ft. merch swaps/gifts from friends and strangers 🥹 (the iffy lenticular card was literally dropped into my bag by an iffy coser (wearing the LT outfit..?!) while waiting for the cab LMAO)

#arknights #bentotexto #will blog about the festival in another post because i dont think theyll let me post that many photos #yeah i got the logos/theresa pillow but im giving it to a friend

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