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Both men and women alike would kill to be in your situation right now, and you know that there's one girl who will kill you if she ever found out you were on a not-date with Sukuna. The thought is an uncomfortable itch at the back of your head, why would he choose you? Out of everyone? 

Why were you his first option? Or an option at all?

"Point taken, whatever." You mumble. "So, how far are we taking this?" You pick at your nails, internally screaming at the chance of having to maybe go as far as kissing this (hot) asshole of a man. Just for one meal? 

Sukuna doesn’t even blink.

“As far as it takes to get the premium platter,” His voice is flat as he takes the lead and pushes his way into the building.

You staggered forward, trailing after him with a confused brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?-”

“Happy Valentine’s Day! Welcome to the Malevolent Kitchen!” A woman in a pink frilly apron greets the two of you as you enter, her smile bright as she extends the menu forward. “Table for two?”

An arm wraps itself against your waist, pulling you into Sukuna’s side. You let out a small gasp at the gesture, which earns you a squeeze to your hip. He didn’t say anything, but you could feel Sukuna telling you to get into your act already. Or maybe it was a sliver of comfort. 

“Yes,” he says smoothly, “For two.”

The hostess laughs, her amused giggle feeling like daggers being stabbed into your pride and dignity. “Aren’t you two cute? Right this way please!”

She guides you further into the restaurant, passing booths and tables decorated in red and pinks– The same stupid pink of his stupid hair.  Candles flicker on every table, fairy lights are draped along the walls, and soft instrumental music hums in the background like it’s waiting for someone to propose. 

You shoot him a look while her back is turned.

“You didn’t have to grab me like that,” you hiss under your breath.

He leans down slightly, lips close enough to your ear that your brain short-circuits for half a second. “Would you rather I call you bro in front of her?”

“Here you go,” With a skip in her step, the hostess turns around and gestures the two of you to your table. The table itself is your standard diner table, but the decorations were nothing less than romantically aggressive. “I’m guessing you two are availing for the Valentines day promo?”

Sukuna doesn’t hesitate. “Premium platter.”

Her eyes sparkle. “Fantastic! Anything else?”

Sukuna looks at you, raising a brow. How kind of him, to ask for your opinion for once.

You let out a strained smile, you hope it wasn’t obvious. You were in too deep to back out now. “No, thankyou.”

“Alright. I’ll be back with your meal in 15 to 20 minutes!”

As the waitress walks away, you immediately slump in your seat and cover your face with both hands. “I can’t believe we’re actually doing this.”

Sukuna rolls his eyes. “Like you had anything better to do.”

“I could’ve been sat home.”

“-Eating instant noodles.”

You glare at him through your fingers. You really wish you didn’t, as you feel your cheeks warm at the sight of his canines through his smug smirk. He was really lucky the waitress hadn’t served you your drinks yet, lest you grab it and throw it in his face.

While you're huffing in puffing, wallowing in shame, you notice that the table was shaking ever so slightly. From your position, you take a glance under the table and notice Sukuna’s leg shaking.

You let out an amused scoff. “You nervous?”

His answer is quick, almost flustered. “What? No.”

“I mean I get it,” You straighten your back, leaning forward on your elbows. “If you get caught not-dating me, it would cause you a lot of problems, right?”

Something flashes in his eyes that you can’t place. You chalk it up to you hitting your mark. “.. Right.”

The rest of the date is spent in awkward silence, and you find yourself checking the time every other minute. You know you’ve been checking it every other minute, because the time refuses to move when you're practically vibrating in your seat with anxiety.

Luckily, like an angel descended from the heavens carrying blessings, the waitress comes over with the largest platter of food you have ever seen. Not only was it the largest, it was filled to the brim with extravagant dishes. The kind that college students like you could only ever see through reels online.

Thick slices of steak glistening under warm light. Ribs lacquered in sauce. Shrimp skewers steaming gently. Garlic rice piled high enough to qualify as a small hill. Two tall glasses of sparkling juice.

Sukuna inhales deeply. 

You were no better, mouth watering as you watched each dish get placed on your table. Thankfully, your table was off to the side so there were no witnesses to the way you’d inhale all of this food.

“Please enjoy your date!~” The woman smiles, glancing between you and Sukuna with cheeky glee. She quickly makes her way back to the kitchen to give the two of you your privacy.

“What are you doing? Eat already.” Your moment of awe shatters as Sukuna’s voice cracks through the peace. 

You glance up, noticing his crossed arms and scrutinizing stare straight into your soul. “Yeah, yeah. I just.. Don’t know where to start.”

“Well you better start somewhere, unless you wanna spend dinner here with me too.”

You roll your eyes, slowly loading things onto your plate and internally crying at the taste of every bite. You don’t even notice the way Sukuna’s eyes soften as you practically forget about the world around you. It even takes you glaring at him to snap him out of his trance. “What are you looking at?”

He lets out a huff, averting his eyes to the suddenly very interesting wall. “Thats none of your business, just eat.”

Eventually, he starts eating through his own portion too. It was probably triple yours, but not like you cared.

Somewhere between stealing a rib from his side of the platter and arguing over the last shrimp like territorial gremlins, the previous tension fades away. And you could almost forget the guilty coil in your stomach telling you that this is not a date. You pin it on a stomach ache instead.

You lick some sauce off of the side of your mouth, not noticing the smear you missed. Before you could grab a napkin, there's already one at the side of your cheek. Eyes snap up as your breath catches in your throat.

Sukuna’s touch is surprisingly gentle through the cloth, wiping the smear off easily before crumpling the paper towel and tossing it into an empty plate.

He finally notices your stare and swallows at the sight of your flushed face. He clicks his tongue. “You eat like a baby.”

Way to ruin the moment. “Gee, thanks.” Your brows furrow and you frown at the pink-haired fucker. “Like I didn't see you swallow an entire rib whole.”

“Tsk. I did not.”

“You probably don’t have a gag reflex huh?” 

“Whatever, baby,” He spits, meaning the nickname as an insult. You know it's an insult, but a part of you wishes he meant it differently. So you kick him under the table, because you’d rather continue to hate this man than admit you like him. To some degree.

The waitress slides the dessert across the table, right in front of you and Sukuna. A milkshake clearly made for two, your favorite flavor and two swirly heart straws sticking out of its whipped cream. 

“Since you two availed for the Valentines promo, and the first to get the premium platter, we’ll have to take a picture of you two drinking out of our dessert and post it to our page!” She beams, holding up a phone.

Your gaze meets Sukuna’s and your stomach drops as you realize that if this gets posted, everyone would think you two were actually dating. 

You clear your throat, “And if we don’t want to?”

“Then you’ll have to pay the bill in full, I’m afraid.” Her answer cuts through you like a knife, you grip the hem of your shirt. “But a picture won’t be a problem for you two though, right?”

“Well-” You start, before you feel a light kick to your shins.

“No, not a problem.” Sukuna declares, leaning forward to the dessert. And to you. “Get the camera going.”

You glare into his red eyes, and he meets it with a smug grin. “C’mon baby, its just a picture.”

The thought of the bill is like a collar around your throat, as you muster up the strength from all your ancestors to smile (bitterly) sweetly at him. “Ofcourse.” You breathe through gritted teeth.

Without another beat passing, you place your lips around the straw and ignore the flush of your cheeks as you watch sukuna stare at how your lips rest against the plastic. Sukuna’s grin only widens as he matches your pose, his face only a milkshake away.

“Alright, now drink!” The waitress chirps, getting the two of you in frame. The shake itself was admittedly, pretty good. The sweet cold of the drink felt like a lifeline with how hot from anger and definitely not embarrassment you were. “Happy Valentines!”

You step outside together into the cool night air. Campus lights glow softly in the distance. Other couples pass by holding hands, laughing quietly. You were not laughing. Laughing would mean that there was something funny, and the loud thumping of your heart in your ears was nothing near hilarious. Sukuna had a different idea, though.

You let out a sigh of relief. “So that’s it,” you say, folding your arms. “Scam complete.”

“Yeah,” he replies.

Neither of you move away, yet. 

“So, same time next year?” Sukuna nudges your arm, and only now you realize how close he was beside you.

You scoff, “Are you only gonna take me out every Valentines?” Coward. You wanted to add. Idiot. You also wanted to add.

It's his turn to laugh, “What, did you expect this to happen every week?”

A bitter hum reaches your throat and you try to focus on the blurry city lights starting to flicker on around you. “Guess not.”

Silence encompasses the two of you again, a long long pause waiting for one of you to cross a line. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, and if you could, you’d grab that knife and carve the stupid words out of your throat. 

You don’t notice the way he studies your face, how your fingers twitch with every thought jumping around in that pretty little head of yours.

“You free next week?” he asks casually.

“For what?”

“There’s a ramen place doing half-off for pairs.”

You force out a laugh. “I thought you only wanted free food? Half-off isn’t free.”

“I know.”

Oh.

“I’m not in it for the food this time.”

Oh.

You blink. Then again. Then you swallow a breath. “You better not be messing with me, Ryoumen. I’ll jump you.” You turn to him, his crimson eyes looking like a red sea you wouldn’t mind drowning in.

The grin is evident in his voice as he answers. “I’m serious. Same time next week, but I’ll pick you up.” he offered. “If you don’t want to then thats fine, I can just fuck off I guess.”

You tilt your head. “What would you do if I said no?”

“Then I’d back off.” A beat passes. “For a bit.”

Good answer. You smile the widest you had this entire day. Maybe even the week. “Then I guess it's a date.”

A.N. First fic/drabble of 2026???? and its sukuna???? unsurprising

“Because you have teeth”, you snap, glaring down at him like you’re speaking to a very dumb, very horny golden retriever dog.

“Barely,” he mumbles, mouth still full, absolutely refusing to unlatch. His lips stay sealed around your puffy nipple while he swirls his tongue around the bud.

You groan and swat him lightly with the nearest throw pillow, but it’s useless—he just grunts and tightens his grip around your waist, locking you in place with those long limbs of his like a very determined spider monkey. And then he moans like he’s tasting the most divine dessert known to man.

“Mmmph—why do they taste even better now?” he says, breath warm against your skin, eyes fluttering like he’s in a trance. “Like, how is that possible? Are you infused with vanilla now or something? What is this??”

Your baby unlatches with a soft pop, tiny mouth falling open as she stares at the absolute chaos unfolding inches away. Just silently, blankly watching her grown-ass father suck on her food source like a fucking freak. Her tiny brows knit in visible concern, like… is this my life? Is this what I was born into?

You don’t miss a beat. Gently cradling her head, you whisper to her like a hostage negotiator trying to keep things calm. “It’s okay. Don’t look at him. Just focus on mama”.

“Hey!,” Gojo pipes up, glossy lips still latched while he smushes his face deeper, “Don’t act like I’m not emotionally feeding the whole family right now”.

You raise your eyebrows. “Emotionally?”

He finally pulls off with a loud pop, tongue chasing after your nipple like he’s devastated to leave it behind. “You’ve just gotten so soft, babe,” he sighs, all wounded and dramatic, before faceplanting straight into your tits again with absolutely zero regard for the now-very-baffled baby in your arms watching this circus unfold.

“So round,” he groans, words muffled in cleavage, “and pillowy and womanly. Like a sexy fertility goddess”. He lifts his head just enough to look you in the eye, completely unrepentant. “You’re telling me I’m not supposed to suck on these when they’re right there? For free?? In my home??”

You pinch his cheek hard but affectionate. “Down, Satoru”.

He whines like a kicked puppy, still very much buried in your soft cleavage, arms wrapped around your waist like he’s bracing for impact. “I missed you,” he mumbles, words muffled by boob. “Not just sexually. But, like… also sexually”.

You sigh, long-suffering, one hand reaching up to massage his scalp because, well, you did miss him too—even if he’s an unhinged perv. “You’re a weirdo,” you mutter, thumb circling the soft spot behind his ear.

“Your weirdo,” he breathes like it’s the most romantic thing he’s ever said—right before your other nipple mysteriously disappears again with a quiet, triumphant slurp.

It was no secret after all. You couldn’t count the number of times she tried to assist in your early death, ranging from simple pop-up attacks that your raging instincts guided you with to kidnapping you into the Nightshades library and torturing you—or more so, trying her best to—while reading latin incantations from a book that still scarred your mind to this day.

“You don’t have to tell me.” With your head shifted into it’s former state, staring straight ahead, you expected Wednesday to mirror your action. She hadn’t.

Your eyes darted all around the forest, searching for insects, animals, humans, or anything of the above that would pose a potential life-threat. Unlike Wednesday, you allowed yourself to feel fear because you actually cared for your life.  

You and Wednesday were similar, which was the root of your rivalry. She eyed you as a copycat, but you had always been who you were since the day you were born, and nobody could ever change you. You thrived in academics and sports, taking part in three education-related after school clubs as well as fencing, track, and a modernized human sport known as “soccer” to Americans during the summer.

You easily got more praise for your contribution to the school’s image, while Wednesday held the slimy silver medal praising her for being in second place, and her mind raged at the remembrance of it every time. She wanted to be number one above all else, but she could never bypass you. Hell, you even bypassed Bianca Barclay, forming a small rivalry with her when you first arrived at the academy.

“Would you like me to send you a photographed Polaroid of myself with my signature on it, or shall you continue to stare at me and soon trip over a rock?” Wednesday’s eyes furrowed at the end of the sentence, unable to hold back a yelp when she inevitably did fall over a grounded rock and faceplant on the floor.

You halted your movement, turning your head to the side to catch a glimpse of Wednesday rolling herself on her back, a hand over her knee from a wound forming due to her ignorant choice to wear shorts. “We have thirty minutes remaining to collect all we need for our botanical project. I’d suggest you get off the floor.” 

Before she could even comprehend what you said, she found herself looking up into your eyes as you towered over her. Once more, you cocked your head to the side, allowing a sly grin to form on your face at the sight of blood dousing her hand from the open wound. “And you tell me I’m the clumsy one?”

“You are.” She shot back immediately, her eyes narrowing at your facial expression of humor. You found humor in her; you always have. It was a key part of your romantic attraction to her, though that aspect had always been locked away as a secret, and your humor lied in her inability to keep up with you.

Whether Wednesday wanted to admit it or not, she had found her challenger. Someone who was undeniably better than her, someone who forced her to work harder to be the one at the top, though she knew secretly she’d always be trapped in second place.

You were better than her, and it annoyed her more than anything in the world. That’s why the discovery of her own attraction toward you scared her—the girl who dared not feel emotion. She blamed it on your well-behaved confidence and that stupid grin you flashed her from day to day. 

A grin she wanted to kiss off, she thought once, and she contemplated throwing herself off the balcony in her dorm room when she allowed that sentence to linger in her mind.

You laughed genuinely, your grin growing wider at the sight of Wednesday stumbling to get up, her face crinkling only so slightly at the pain that coursed through the entirety of her leg.

“You’re unfit.” A huff came from her, head flicking up to meet your gaze, eyes lingering on your standstill grin—your pink-lipped mouth—for a second deemed too long before she lunged forward and pushed you aside.

The force of her thrust caused you to stumble back and fall on a pile of leaves, blowing and coughing out a crisp leaf that found it’s home inside your mouth. At the force of her thrust toward you, Wednesday found herself collapsed once more on the floor, her body not correctly stabilized from her injury.

“So, not only are you clumsy, but you’re also an idiot.” You sat yourself upright, hands laid down on the floor behind your body to stabilize yourself, all the while watching the conflict in Wednesday’s eyes over whether she should shoot back or keep quiet.

She kept quiet, eliciting a small, almost unnoticeable groan that Wednesday herself didn’t catch at first. You heard it, though, your grin finding it’s way back onto your face as you practically jumped up, brushing yourself off with a flick of your wrists to your neutral- colored clothing.

You furrowed your eyebrows to see Wednesday still sprawled on the floor, expecting her to have risen up by now, even if a limp tagged along. “The big, challenging girl who fought off the reincarnation of Joseph Crackstone years ago can’t get up because of a wound on her knee.”

You spoke in disbelief, and Wednesday turned her head over to you with might. “Don’t you ever mock my accomplishments.”

“Well, we can’t even accomplish the task of finishing our botanical sciences project if you don’t take your small ass up and off the floor.” You bit back.

Fumed with rage and annoyance due to her growing short temper, Wednesday lunged up at you with all the strength she had in her body. The next second, you found your hands wrapped around her waist as you held her upright from falling again, the girl collapsing into your embrace with a snake-like hiss emitting from her.

Another groan came from her, not even bothering to hide it this time, too preoccupied with the futile stinging of her wound and the warming position she found herself in with you. “Alright, back on the floor.”

Her back met the homing place that was the floor once more, shooting daggers at your inexistent attempt to lay her down carefully, seeing as you dropped her onto the floor without care. Her hand found it’s way back to her knee, coating the skin in blood once more, and you sighed. “Move your hand.”

“No.”

“Since when did you become so stubborn?” She raised her eyebrows at you. “Actually, that’s a dumb question, but I’m not going to ask you again. Addams,” your tone became firm, seriousness rising up amidst your former face of humor, “move your hand.”

Her teeth clenched, jawline protruding out, and her eyes were in their usual wide state, as if she were thinking, but her mind was blank. You found impatience creeping up on you, not daring to alert your eyes to her dark red, bloodied hand from her gushing wound.

With a twitch of your eye, your hand shot forward and clamped on Wednesday’s wrist, pulling it away from her wound with force, and she let out a small whimper that she immediately tried to cover with a cough. Your eyes darted up at her for only a second, having heard it, before looking back down at her wound, which was open and wide.

“I will take you to the Infirmary, and then come back and collect all we need for our project.” You said your plan out loud, your eyes darting back and forth between Wednesday’s open wound and the pathway from which you and the girl had just come. “I am fine. Besides, you would only get all the wrong things we need, seeing as how foolish you are.”

“Foolish is what you claim me to be, yet you’re the one consistently in second place.” Without warning, you sank an arm under her bent knees and another under her back, picking her up in bridal style, to which her eyes drastically widened. You felt her tense under you, muscles contracting, and you groaned. 

“Oh, relax. Being tense will only cause your wound to bleed more, and before I know it, I’ll be carrying your dead weight.”

“Put me down this instant.” Wednesday fought, trying to wiggle herself out of your grasp as you started to walk back to the school grounds, leaving your grip on her to tighten. “No. And don’t presume that I care about your wellbeing either, because I don’t.”

She huffed, her leg jerking up when a low branch made contact with her wound. “Then why not allow me to continue with you?”

“If you haven’t noticed, we’re past the forest barriers that Nevermore set.” When she turned her head in response to your signal to the right, she noticed the wooden line fences that were more intended to serve as a signal for students to turn around than as a means of keeping them out.

“Throats get slit in this neck of the woods,” you continued, mindlessly drifting your eyes all over the forest in caution of any inhumane species. “I’d rather not have a Jason Voorhees copycat lunatic trying to slaughter us, and I can’t go far because you’re disabled.”

“It’d be your own death’s fault for trying to save me.” Her deadpanning words made you want to drop her and let her find her own way back to the academy, but you just let out an annoyed breath while gripping onto her thighs tighter. “Forgive me for actually having a beating heart, Addams.”

“You’re not forgiven, (Y/L/N).”

Soon enough, you found yourself back in the forest, with Wednesday’s presence long gone. You were kneeling down, collecting dirt into a small jar that you had sprayed with pesticides to clear it of any lingering bugs. You hadn’t noticed how the time flew past, the sun fading into the moon, and you took a moment to enjoy the stars, hands settled on your dirt-covered knees.

A sound rang through the forested area, causing you to snap your head in the direction of the noise. It was muffled, but it sounded too closely like the howls of the werewolves you’ve grown to make friends with, and that was enough for you to shoot up instantly from your kneeling position. With a sharp breath, you looked up at the moon, now taking on the shape of a full moon, and you gagged in growing fear.

You’re fine, right? They get locked in the Lupen cages; there’s no way one of them could’ve escaped theirs. Your mind raced for explanations as you crouched down to pick up all that you'd collected, ranging from dirt to plants, before taking steady steps in the direction of the academy.

You took precautionary halts so as not to make major noise, cringing in fear at the sound of a leaf loudly crunching under your foot, and you could hear the howls once more, closer this time. 

You took another five steps before you could hear the thudding stomps of a figure inching closer to you with every second, and you thanked nothing else but your heightened senses as you dropped all of what you held and booked it. 

You dodged tree logs and branches left and right, hands fumbling with your satchel to tear it off your body to release the weight it was holding, and your body shook at the thudding sounds ringing in your ears, inching closer and closer-

Until you woke up, spread out on the floor, and your hands dug around the surface of the floor to help you realize that you were still in the woods. Your body still shook, this time more violently as you gasped in pain, stings shooting all over your body and causing your muscles to tighten.

“Fuck!” You groaned out, clenching your stomach where it hurt the most to feel a liquid coating your skin of the same texture that dripped your hands with Wednesday’s blood hours earlier. Your eyes drooped, sullenly coming to the firm realization that you were bleeding out with a liquid you could not even view properly, the night still too dark.

You blamed it all on a werewolf not properly being contained, but if that was the case, why didn’t they kill you instead of merely injuring you? The thought of the beast not being a werewolf flooded out of your mind quicker than it came in. You could see the outline of large claw slits scarring the skin of your stomach, and you yelled out the most mind-scarring shriek as you forced yourself up.

You moaned out, “Oh,” in pain as you sat yourself on a log, scanning the dark forest for any signs of life, human or not, to which there were none, and you sighed in relief. You took off your jacket first before peeling the shredded, blood-stained white shirt off your body, leaving you with just your bra and an exposed, large wound.

Your eyes closed in despair, feeling the pain dull ever so slightly in your relaxing state. You bent over, to your body’s anguish, to grab your bag with a small first aid kit tucked into it. All the items within the mini-kit were dunked out on the log space beside you, and you hurriedly grabbed multiple anti-septic wipes and shredded open the packaging before pressing them onto your skin.

Fangs bared, eyes darkening at the severe pain, you dug them into your bottom lip and swished the wipes over your wounds before letting out a loud yell of agony. You threw the wipes to the floor when they were all left coated with a dark red, grabbing the bandage roll, and with all of your muscles tightening at the pressure, wrapping your stomach with the bandage that immediately turned red before sealing it with tape.

The aftermath was almost pleasurable; the pain was still there but lessened due to the lack of blood flowing out of you. Managing to stumble up, you discarded your bag on the floor before taking a step forward, your body hunching over immediately from the inability to stand upright, and you carried on in the form of a hunchback.

What Wednesday least expected on an early Saturday morning, 3:30 a.m. to be exact, was the sound of her doorknob snapping off from the door itself. Her eyes perked up, sensing danger, and she immediately dug under her pillow to grab the knife she stored there, pointing it forward with the sharp tip ready to plunge itself into whoever dared to intrude into her and Enid’s dorm.

She had only been released from the hospital a few hours prior, so it seemed as though her knee pain had subsided, but when she put her foot on the ground, it suddenly returned. She ignored the discomfort and advanced toward the opening door, ready to strike.

“Wed-” You threw the door open, stopping immediately when the tip of her knife bore into your throat, one step away from slicing into your carotid artery. Even in the harsh darkness, Wednesday could see the fear and agony in your eyes, the way you were breathing heavily and clutching your stomach, and the skin that your bloodied jacket had now covered.

In the dim light of her bedside lamp, she could see your black jacket with a huge damp spot covering it, clamped over by bloodied hands. Her eyes met yours, and you gulped. “I didn’t know who else to come to.”

Wordlessly, she stepped to the side, inviting you in, which you limped into, and she closed the door. Her hand met your shoulder, an odd warmth coating your body despite her cold figure, and she aided you to the bathroom, choosing to disregard the blood trail you were leaving behind.

A sigh left your mouth as you collapsed on the closed-lidded toilet, leaning all your weight on the material. Wednesday pulled out a medical kit from under the sink, one much bigger than the one you had previously used, and slammed it on the countertop. “So much for not trying to wake up Enid.”

“Do you want me to help you or not? Beside, if you even took a second glance around the room, you’d notice Enid is not here, but in a Lupen cage in form.” She spoke in hushed whispers, and you shut up immediately, shrinking under her gaze. You were better than her, yes, but that didn’t mean you didn’t get scared of her from time to time.

“Take off your jacket.” She said simply, still prepping rounds of wipes with anti-septic liquids on them for your bloodied wound, as the wipes you used earlier did not have much of an effect considering the size of them. Wearily, you zipped down your jacket, peeling it off of you with a grunt or two before throwing it away at the base of the bathtub. You laid yourself back, eyes burning into the side of Wednesday’s face, anticipating her moves.

After she had finished prepping the wipes, she grabbed a sewing kit from under the counter, and you gulped at the largely-sized needles that she pulled out along with them. “All I really needed was for you to clean it, Addams. I’m a vampire; I can self-heal.”

“This is merely a precautionary measure to not leave putrid-looking scars.” She placed the items needed beside you, removing her own jacket, and you noticed how she was still in what she considered “casualwear”, seemingly not changing out of her clothes before drifting off to sleep. “Odd coming from the person who has left me with multiple scars, and why didn’t you change?”

“What?”

Wednesday turned, giving you a full visual of her in a button-up shirt and vest, black slacks tucked in and still belted; sleeping couldn’t have been comfortable for her with a belt digging into her hip. “You’re still in your clothes.” You pointed it out, and she looked down at her choice of fashion before letting out a small huff and advancing toward you, taking up position to the right of you.

“I awaited your presence. I told you before that I wanted to get a start on the project so I would not have to do much with class dealing with you and your miserable antics of getting items confused. Not only do you show up empty-handed in the dead of night, but you are also scarred through your inability to defend yourself.”

She badmouthed you, all the while untangling her sewing needles with harsh movements, but you only focused on one aspect of her words. “You fell asleep waiting for me?”

At once, Wednesday halted her movements, giving you a dead look before turning around and grabbing the large anti-septic wipes, swiftly pushing them into your wounded stomach. You let out a long, loud gasp, groaning at the pain and taking hold of Wednesday’s wrist, trying to push her arm back but to no avail. “Don’t get cocky.”

Your head flew back in agony, your hand still clasped around her wrist with a bruising grip. “I wasn’t! I was asking!”

Wednesday glided the wipes along your scars, to your dismay, until there were little to no signs of blood yet, all the while mindlessly running her eyes over the scars on your body that she created.

It was the only way she could get her mind off your exposed torso and how your muscles gallantly flexed from the pain, unwillingly showing themselves off to her.

Your eyes were squinting, still a bit sore from the antiseptics, but when you noticed that Wednesday had not made any other moves, you let them go from your iron grip. Your gaze landed on her stance, lost in thought. “What?”

"I'm in the process of comprehending an attempt to stitch you together while you remain seated, while I, on the other hand, am standing." Her eyes glanced all around the bathroom, sighing contently as she tried to determine a possible way to play surgeon in a comfortable manner.

“Well, I’m not lying on the floor. Your bed?” You inquired, and Wednesday shook her head, her mind discarded by that thought. “I would like to go to sleep tonight in a bloodless bed.”

“Um,” you gulped. The first real situation droning through your head was one anybody wouldn’t dare share with Wednesday. It's a good thing you weren’t like anybody else. “Sit on me.”

Her head snapped to meet your eyes, yours innocently boring into hers, and she squinted. “What?”

“Sit on my lap. When I lean back, you’ll be able to stitch me up or... whatever it is that you plan on doing without breaking your spine.”

You could see the conflict in her eyes, and she took it into consideration, to your surprise. With a pinch to the bridge of her nose and a long, elated sigh, as a means of balance, she placed her hands on each of your shoulders before swinging her left leg over your body and sitting down on your firmly closed legs. 

“Tell nobody about this, or more of these scars,” she said, pinching down on a drawn out scar that sat just right under your bra, “will litter your skin.” You gave her a hasty nod, eager to put your mind elsewhere while your sworn enemy found a seat on your lap.

Without a word of warning, she dug the needle into your skin, causing you to let out an embarrassingly loud yelp of pain. Your hands flew to her shoulders as a matter of instinct, and you half-expected her to shrug them off, but she prioritized her sewing techniques instead.

The further she got into sewing the deep claw marks, the tighter your hands gripped her shoulders. You’d be surprised if Wednesday woke up bruise-free, as you could almost feel your knuckles turning white.

Wednesday found... amusement? The way your eyes closed at her stinging touch, the way your hands buried themselves into her shoulders, and how your thigh muscles tightened under her ass with every swift movement. She loved seeing you defenseless and submissive to her more than anything, finding profit in the means of mocking you later on if you tried to boast about your betterness.

When she had finally finished her stitching, she found herself still lingering on your lap, her movements awfully slow, even for her, to grab a couple large medical bandages and place them over her work. 

“Stay here.” Her voice was low while she slid off your lap, turning to leave the bathroom before returning a minute later with a baggy jacket in her hands. Your eyebrows furrowed as she laid the fabric on your lap, turning to wash her hands of any remaining blood.

You had a little trouble donning the jacket, which was made of Wednesday's fashion choice's baggy material but looked a little more fitted on you because of your lean frame. Your wounds, formerly the only thing clouding your mind, were long gone. You focused on the seriousness of your enemy’s actions, and the oddly warm jacket filled with her natural scent that was now clinging to your body.

“Why?”

“What?”

“When I came here, I fully expected you to push me away.” You leaned your body up on the toilet, hands running through your disheveled hair, and Wednesday directed her attention toward you. “But you didn’t, for some odd reason, and actually helped me—hell, you even sat on me—when you’ve been nothing but the cause of my terror ever since I’ve arrived at this academy.”

It was all nothing but the truth. Two years have passed since you made your flaunting arrival at Nevermore, head held high with nothing else on your mind other than the determination to be the best student the academy had ever seen, and so you accomplished it. Two years had passed since you crossed paths with the deadly Wednesday Addams, her mind still fresh from her praiseful battle with the former overtaker of Jericho.

Two years passed since you beat Wednesday’s boat in the Poe Cup; the Black Cats determined to win their second trophy in a row, and she swore you as her enemy that day when her eyes laid upon your smirking frame with the golden cup in your hand, sending her a wink of confidence that she mentally fumed at.

Two years had passed since Wednesday Addams made the dreadful discovery that, after all, her black, unbeating heart could feel love but that her taste was awful if she found herself attracted to her enemy. Now she found herself in the middle of her last year at Nevermore, freshly 19, and still rummaging in a cat-dog chase game with you.

Two years had passed since she found herself focused on nothing but her enemy, who was in front of her now, sitting on the toilet seat in her bathroom, all patched up, and looking at her with curiosity. “Are you going to continue to stare at me or answer my question?”

“I’m not required to reply to any of your inquiries.” Swiftly, she made her exit out of the bathroom, leaving you to stumble up on your feet and follow behind her like a lost pup. Your body felt awfully tired, though your mind was wide awake and racing with multiple thoughts at once, overloading and ready to explode any second.

“Add-”

“I’ve patched you up,” She moved to close the door to her closet, and in a rut of refusal to make eye contact with you, solemnly afraid that she’d instantly jump your bones- what? “So you may leave now.”

“I’m not leaving until you’ll answer my ‘inquiry’ on why you were nice, at least in my books, to me. You’re avoiding the question.”

You could see the clench in Wednesday’s jaw as she made her way over to her desk, tidying up the workplace in an attempt to distract herself from the conversation that lingered. “I’m unsure as to what you’re saying.”

“Addams-”

“Leave before I do something I’ll regret, (Y/L/N).” She snapped, finally meeting your gaze with wide eyes, and you furrowed your eyebrows. “Since when have you ever regretted something that included me? Did you not tie me to a tree on a full moon and bait me to the werewolves last year?”

Her eyes closed in annoyance. “That’s not what I mean.” And as she rubbed her face, you could almost feel the mixture of stress and uncertainty in her stance, almost as if she were holding back from something.

“Then what do you mean? I’ve known you for two years, and you’ve never failed to reply to me with a full sentence, whether it’s answering my question or barking out a snarky remark. Tell me what’s changed in tha-”

Your eyes were opening and closing rapidly in stress, causing you to not register Wednesday’s frame hurriedly marking toward you until you felt a body collapse into you and a smooth substance on your lips.

Huh?!

Your eyes shot open and wide. To confirm your suspicions, Wednesday’s arms were thrown over your shoulder while her body leaned into yours, and her lips smashed against yours almost desperately.

That’s what she presumed to regret. 

But it was something you longed for, unbeknownst to her, and you made it known when your hands found their way to her cheeks, pulling her in deeper. You could feel her lips tremble slightly in shock, unprepared for you to be pulling her closer instead of pushing her away.

Wednesday’s legs grew a mind of their own, taking steps forward and causing you to step back until the backs of your knees met her bed, and she tore her lips away from you for a breather. You took the separation as an opportunity to sit yourself down on her bed, all while your eyes never left hers in the process, and the smaller girl hurriedly found her former position on your lap.

“The moon is fading. Enid could come back any minute now.” You spoke between kisses, shivering at Wednesday’s cold touch on your warm skin, her hands slithering underneath the jacket you wore to rub up and down your back. “Then she’ll leave again, because she’s not going to enjoy what she’ll see.”

Your body visibly shivered at her words, or maybe it was just her fingers dancing along your spine, but either way, you found yourself completely engulfed in her and just her. The claw marks, the time, the physical confession—all of it was gone from your mind as Wednesday mindlessly pushed herself even farther into you.

She took a push too close, her body pressing up against your wound, causing you to groan and bite down on her bottom lip, fangs bared from the pain. Your lips never separated, instead pushing farther into them at the feeling and taste of Wednesday’s blood filling your mouths from her punctures, only spurring the two of you further.

“Lay down.” You obeyed immediately, finding nothing more hot in the moment than the husk in the smaller girl's voice, and manuevered from under her plushy thighs on top of you to lay comfortably on her bed. You were engulfed in her natural scent once more—the same scent you had grown accustomed to for over two years now, the scent that followed you everywhere you went.

You adored it, just as you adored her behind your hardening gaze most days.

Her eyes were narrowed, and you would have thought she was tired any other day, but you knew her look was one of need and want. Lust, to put it short, and you wanted nothing more than to fulfill her need, even if it meant submitting yourself to her in a situation you'd never thought you’d willingly put yourself in.

Just as she had earlier, she slid off your lap with a lingering touch on your hips. “Stay here.” 

And as quickly as she left, she returned, though this time with an item in her hand, and you knew exactly what it was. Your eyes widened, and your mouth drew open. Already?

“Yes, already.” Did you say that out loud? “You’d find me pathetic if you knew how long I have deferred using this. To use it on you.” Her eyes were filled with a dark, unmanageable lust that swam through her veins, and you could only imagine the scenarios that swarmed through your head. This wasn’t the Wednesday you knew, but it was one you anticipated figuring out.

“But I can’t just use this on you immediately, no.” A smug grin came across her lips—a sight that you, or really anybody else, rarely ever saw, and it was one you wanted to see more of. “No, I have to prep you, don’t I?”

“Prep me?” You asked, genuine curiosity lacing your voice, and her grin grew wider. “I’ll show you.”

Wednesday positioned herself back on your lap, putting the erotic object on her nightstand, within reach for later use, before pulling you into another kiss. It was bruising, and the kiss was ten times more harsh than before, but you would never complain about her being pressed up against you.

While you found yourself entrapped in her lips, her hands slithered down your body and toward your pants, grabbing the buckle of your belt and undoing it at a steady pace. That’s when it dawned on you—she was going to prep you for an object that withheld some... girth.

Your muscles tensed at the thought, and more so at the feeling of Wednesday pulling down your black jeans with ease, discarding your shoes in the process of leaving your bottom half in just your underwear. “Wednesday…”

She was simple. “Relax.” 

On the down low, she knew that this was your first time engaging with somebody sexually, never failing to notice your soft rejections of the girls and guys that tried to woo you on and failed miserably. It was an aspect she enjoyed even more now, and she wanted nothing more than to rub in the faces of all you rejected that they couldn’t get you to agree to a date, but yet she had you writhing underneath her, moaning her name.

Your breathing grew heavier as the seconds went by, hitching when Wednesday moved your underwear to the side with a slow itch of her hands, and you wanted nothing more than to grab her by the head and bury her in your heat. The lack of restraint you were feeling was lethal and ultimately surprising for a girl who rarely ever even masturbated.

“Such a possessing view.” She murmured in a low tone, her eyes dancing all around your core, and your cheeks flushed at her staring. Her eyes locked with yours, her mind racing at the sight of your eyes narrowed and staring down at her with silent pleads, and those pleads she fulfilled when her tongue darted out to take a swipe at your folds.

You whimpered in a tone around an octave higher than your usual voice, and your eyes widened at the sound that unwillingly left your mouth. It seemed to spur Wednesday on, allowing her to dart her tongue out once more and flick it over your clit, the nub that she wanted nothing more than to swell up with her mouth.

You let out another whimper—louder and needier this time around. “And sensitive. I can put that to use.” She dove her head farther into your heat, her lips wrapping around your clit and taking a harsh suck at the nub. Your thighs shut around her head, eyes never leaving one another, while she feverishly sucked your clit, needing to hear more of the high-pitched whines that left your mouth.

She pulled away soon after, to your dismay that you showed through your pleading whines, to allow a bead of spit to drip out of her mouth and onto your entrance, before taking her finger and rubbing her spit around the area. Your hips instinctively bucked up at the sensation, feeling yourself clench around nothing, and it made Wednesday want to elicit a laugh.

“The way I’m touching you now is a major privilege alone.” Her finger sank into your entrance, and she bit down lightly at the plushness of your thighs when she felt your velvety walls tighten around her. “I adore watching you like this underneath me; you make me want to fuck you braindead.”

She sank her finger into you until her knuckle bared against your heat, curling the bony stature inside of you and eliciting a light moan out of you. You already found yourself on edge from her husky words alone, and the curl of her finger inside of you didn’t help you from almost cumming embarrassingly fast.

“Already close? What a shame; I wanted to have fun toying with you.” Her mouth against her core made you moan from the vibrations, hands flying to grip her head menacingly and push her farther into you, almost crying out for the whole hall to hear when she slipped a second finger into you.

Her fingers picked up pace, thrusting in and out of you with force while the squelching sounds of your slick covering your walls made Wednesday feel a pit of need start to boil in her stomach, one that she desired to fulfill.

The two-on-two action on your core made you clench impossibly tight on Wednesday’s fingers, the ravenhead finding difficulty in her repeated movements. “Want to cum, yeah?”

You nodded profusely, your face growing red from your need for release and the way she released her lips from your clit with a pop. A small grin formed on her face when she pulled out of you, relishing in your whines of despair.

Eyes closed, heavy breathing—you were too blissed out, despite not achieving an orgasm from her underlying teasing, to notice Wednesday sliding off you, strapping the former item in her hand to her core. Her eyes never left your face as she strapped the item on, feeling more than fired up to make you scratch down her back with pitiful whines leaving your mouth.

And so, that’s what she achieved, eyes closing from the burning pains of your nails digging deep into her shoulders down to the middle of her back. Her own mind felt foggy watching the way her silicone became drenched in your arousal, the strap pumping in and out of you with ease, and the way you moaned straight into her ear—god, she regretted never taking your submissive state for profit more early.

Your thighs clenched around her hips when she bottomed into you, settled on her knees, and bent over slightly to curl the strap inside of you, hitting an unfamiliar spongy spot that had you sinfully whining with a hand clenched on Wednesday’s head. “If the entirety of humanity could merely glimpse you in your current state, they would swiftly recognize your rare moment of submissiveness,” her lips dove down, meeting your ear, “all submissive just for me.”

Her movements grew hard, her hands gripping your skin with a bruising force while her hips drove into you with no relent, finding a need for her own release. The so-called “devil” found herself groaning heavy breaths into your ear, all the while slipping a soft moan or two in that she couldn’t hold. The feeling of you finally beneath her, pleading and scratching at her for release, felt ethereal; all of her senses were on cloud nine, and it ignited a burrowed-down spark.

One of Wednesday’s hands removed from your skin, leaving behind darkened marks that would worsen with time to connect with your cheek, the slap making you roll your eyes back at how dirty it felt. “No connected nerves, and I can still feel you pulsating on me; you’re driving me crazy with it.” 

Your moans were muffled at the feeling of the ravenhead’s fingers shoving deep into your mouth, bypassing your uvula, causing a gag to ensue. Your lips wrapped around the digits, absentmindedly biting on them when the pit in your stomach started to burn like wildfire, making you tighten around the raven’s strap and force her to slow her movements, though still managing a speedy pace. 

“Don’t cum.”

The words you wished never left her mouth made you whine around her fingers; your body was too sensitive from your lack of sexual activity and masturbation over the years, making it almost impossible to fight your orgasm off. Her fingers briefly exited your mouth, only to slap your cheek once more before returning to their original location. “Just for a bit.”

The hold-off was tortuous; the muscles in your body tightened incredulously while your mouth pathetically sucked on Wednesday’s fingers in a pathetic attempt to tear your mind away from your orgasm. It didn’t work. 

The overloading, burning sensation in your stomach was almost uncomfortable; the fire burned longer than it intended to while you made putrid eye contact with the roof, Wednesday’s head snug to the side of yours while she drew herself closer to her own orgasm. The words that made  you sigh in relief, your body shaking after seconds of torture, finally came past the girl’s lips, and you adored them.

“Cum for me, la mia dolce metà.”

You obeyed immediately, allowing your muscles to untighten, and Wednesday’s fingers left your mouth, allowing you to spew out a large moan that, without a doubt, woke the entire hall up. Your hands dug into her shoulders, feeling her shudder over you from her own orgasm, though the only thing that left her mouth was heavy pants.

Alas, she pulled out of you after seconds of relishing in one another’s embrace, making you feel empty compared to just minutes ago. The tip of Wednesday’s cock directed to your swollen clit from her previous oral actions, pushing down with enough pressure to make your toes curl and a breathy sigh leave your mouth.

Wednesday had pulled herself up by now, and it was only then that you noticed the girl taking a mental screenshot of your body, more specifically your core and the way your cum leaked out of you at a snail's pace. She licked her lips at the sight, her eyes flickering up to meet yours, and you gulped.

Your eyes widen, heat creeping up the back of your neck as you take a step back. You school your expression into one of dismissal, waving him off with a hand. "Oh, I can take it. Can it even satisfy me though? Surely something so small can't feel that good." You shrug, looking the epitome of innocence as you blink up at him with faux sympathy.

You don't know when he took another step, but now you're pressed against the wall of his garage, his beefy arms on either side of your head, caging you in. You have to fully crane your neck upwards to look at him, and it's then that it hits you just how much this man towers over you. Your eyes rake over him, really taking him in this time. He wasn't just tall. No, he was big. In every sense of the word. Muscles that flexed with every move, strong, solid but with that subtle softness underneath that made you wish he would both hold you close and crush you.

"Yeah? Pretty little thing like you thinks she can handle me?" His hand reaches out to grab your wrist, thumb rubbing gently against your pulse point with a voice so soft it's almost mocking. You swallow back your response when his hand trails up your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Up, up, and up.

Until he reaches your collarbone. Calloused fingertips ghost over the skin, causing your breath to hitch, your eyes following his every move. And then, ever so slowly, his hand wraps fully around your throat. Not choking, not squeezing (yet) just… holding. The pad of his thumb presses onto the bottom of your chin, forcing you to look at him with a shuddering breath and wide eyes.

A flash of amusement passes through him at your bewilderment, poking his tongue into the inside of his cheek as he lets out a scoff. "What's wrong? Don't tell me this is too much for you already?" He bends down, leaning in close enough so that his breath ghosted over your ear as he whispered, "I haven't even started yet."

You manage to force a weak glare in his direction, hands clenching into fists by your sides to stop yourself from grabbing onto whatever part of him you could. And just because you can, you throw in a smartass retort in there for good measure. "Too much for me? Please, we both know you're just stalling cos you're ashamed to take that small dick of yours out."

Jason lets out a breathy laugh, low and dark in your ear, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "Cute. Sounds like you think about what my dick looks like a lot, huh sweetheart?" How is he still so unfazed from your taunts? You were hoping for a reaction, an angry one preferrably, but he was refusing to give you anything, much less whatever your dirty mind had conjured up before you began your bratty act.

His other hand drags down your chest, cold palm flat against the plush skin of your stomach - and then slowly caressing back up until his fingers reach the edge of your bra, all while his gaze is locked onto your face, relishing in every little shudder that leaves you. He cups you, swiping a teasing thumb over the hardened nipple poking through the stupidly thin fabric of your bra, smirk widening when you arch ever so slightly into his touch.

The smirk doesn't leave his face as his hand abandons your tit, sliding down, squeezing your waist on the way before his fingers dip into the waistband of your leggings. He cups your pussy through your panties, letting out a sharp exhale when he rubs along the already wet fabric sticking to your folds.

His grip on your throat doesn't falter, keeping you pinned against the wall, thumb still pressed under your chin so you can't look away even if you wanted to. "What happened to that smart little mouth? You're awfully quiet for someone who's soaked through her panties." He drawls, voice laced with just enough amusement to make you want to both kiss him and slap him.

Your reply dies in your throat, replaced by a gasp when you feel his big fingers push your panties to the side, gently rubbing along your slick pussy. By the time he leans in, lips crashing into yours, you're already trembling. He kisses you like a man starved. Deep, rough, swallowing back every little gasp trying to escape you as he continues toying lazily with your folds, gathering the arousal practically gushing out of you to smear it against your clit in slow circles - as if you weren't already struggling to keep up with his tongue furiously swirling against yours.

He nips teasingly at your bottom lip, before taking your tongue in his mouth and sucking. The action so obscene and unexpected it has you bucking up into his hand, entire body flushing with need.

He groans lowly, almost desperately, pulling back just enough to mutter into your mouth, "You're fucking dripping. Haven't even touched you properly yet." He swipes his fingers through your folds even slower this time, as if to prove his point.

The quiet whimper you let out is muffled into his chest as your head falls forward, hands clutching needily at the front of his shirt, thighs already starting to tremble slightly. The hand on your throat tightens ever so slightly as he lets out another groan - feral and impatient, "Fuck, get this shit off." His hands tears away from your throat and your pussy long enough for him to grab fistfuls of your leggings, ripping apart the thin fabric like it's fucking paper. Not even a second later, your panties suffer the same unfortunate fate, dangling in his fist before he tosses them behind him.

"What the fuck?" You yelp out, trying to catch your breath as you look up at him with wide eyes. Honestly, the action made you more aroused than pissed but you weren't about to let him know that. "I liked those! What are you, a fucking animal?"

He just shrugs, not even flinching at the tone of your voice, pupils dilating as he fixes his gaze on your now bare, glistening cunt, tongue wetting his lips. "Don't give a fuck, need to see how well she can take my fingers." He looks up briefly to press a fleeting, almost soothing kiss to the corner of your mouth, "Besides, I'll buy you new ones."

His knee slots in between your legs, pushing them further apart as his hand goes back down to spread your lips. "God, how are you so wet?" He groans at the sight, forehead falling to rest against yours as he watches your cunt glisten. You're still trying to comprehend what the fuck just happened, looking back and forth between the scraps of fabric that were once your clothes and the positively hungry look in his eyes; and then his lips are back on yours. Messy. Needy. Desperate. Teeth clicking together, tongues swirling as you feel saliva accumulate at the corner of your mouth, every part of your body seemingly dripping for him. He swallows all the little moans, free hand gripping your jaw to press himself closer to you . He pulls back, lips barely just hovering yours as his thumb smears your spit across your cheek, "Look at you, so wrecked already. You still think you can take all of me, sweetheart?"

Your eyes flick up to his, chest heaving as you try to catch the air he just stole out of your lungs, and stubborn as ever, give him a nod. "I told you I would didn't I?" You huff out, hands trailing up his abs to rest on his pecs.

He chuckles softly, nudging his nose against yours before he whispers, "Then I better not fucking hear you complaining later." He swats lightly at your clit, making you yelp before the same hand reaches back to squeeze your ass, blunt nails digging into the soft flesh, dragging you forward against his bulge. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head when you feel just how fucking huge he is. And that's when you realise, you might have fucked up.

He doesn't even give you time to second guess yourself as he drags you over his bulge once more, "Feel that?" He murmurs, dipping his head, "You're gonna be stuffed full soon enough." The hand gripping your jaw moves down to settle on your stomach, stretching his thumb and pinky finger out across as if mapping you out, letting out a low hum, "Up to here I'd say?"

Your brows furrow in confusion until you look down, nearly choking on air when you realise what he's doing. You see him pressing down into a spot that's nearly up to your fucking ribs and you think you might pass out before he even unzips his jeans. Whether it's from fear or excitement, you're yet to decide.

He continues pressing into your stomach as his other hand gathers the mess dripping down your inner thighs and then, without warning, pushes one long, thick finger in.

You let out a strangled cry, eyes widening, hands scrambling to hold onto his arms. Fucking hell, that's only one finger. Thick and stretching your hole out in a way that has your walls clenching around him. His eyes never leave your pussy, watching as his finger goes in and out. In and out. Rubbing you inside just right, curling just enough to have you panting helplessly, nails digging into his skin.

"Struggling already? Oh baby, how're you gonna take my cock if you can't even handle one fucking finger, hm?" He taunts, dragging his finger out and pushing it back in, slow and torturous. His thumb ghosts over your clit, but not touching it just yet, refusing to give you that extra bit of pleasure just yet.

Jason's mouth is back on your skin, biting and sucking at your neck, working his way up to your jaw before licking a stripe along the outer edge of your ear. "I don't know. Maybe it's too much for you." He murmurs into your ear, nipping at your lobe teasingly, his movements halting inside of you. You immediately shake your head, letting out a whine in frustration.

"W-wait, no! Don't stop…" He's got you begging already. Not even for his cock. Oh no, he's got you begging for one finger.

His smirk widens, letting out a hum as his finger begins pumping into you again and you gasp softly in relief. "Feel good? You want another one?"

You manage a shaky nod, letting out a small "Mhmm" amongst soft pants. He tuts disapprovingly, slipping out of you to land a small slap against your clit. You squeal, eyes flying open as you reach out to hold onto his wrist, a weak attempt to stop him from swatting at your sensitive clit again.

He doesn't even flinch, looking down at you sternly. "Words sweetheart. Use them. You think you can take another one?"

You weakly glare up at him, cheeks flushing at how much his commanding was affecting you.

"Yes please." You murmur after a beat, pussy clenching around nothing in anticipation.

Jason almost wants to laugh, biting back a snort at how you're suddenly so obedient. "Good girl. So polite. Is this all it takes to finally make you use your fucking manners?"

You then feel his index fully back in you, his middle finger prodding at your entrance, before slowly pushing into you. "Jas- oh fuck!" The stretch fucking burns, and the thought that it's not even his dick making you fall apart like this is almost humiliating if not for the fact that it felt so good.

"Relax," He mockingly soothes, smirk never leaving his face as he watches your expressions flicker between pain and pleasure. "Gotta get you ready f'me. Can't have you breaking in half when I finally sink my dick into this sweet cunt now, can we?"

He takes his fingers almost all the way out, leaving only the very tip inside before thrusting all the way in. Deeper. Faster. The loud schlick, schlick of your pussy filling the room, every curl of his fingers making you clamp down, wetness dripping down both his wrist and your inner thighs. You're almost thankful he ripped your bottoms off you, because they would've been ruined one way or another.

Your hips buck forwards greedily, needing more. His hand on your stomach is quick to push you back into the wall, pinning you in place with a low growl. "Fuck no. You don't get to use me like a toy. You said you could take it. So fucking take what I give you."

You whine, eyes rolling, head falling back with a thud as you feel his fingers around every inch of your walls. "M-more, nghh— fuck I need more Jason!"

His lips twitch in amusement, drinking in every bit of your pleasure. "My poor baby," he drawls. "You wanna cum that bad? Can't even keep your fucking eyes open."

You can only nod desperately, clutching at the sleeves of his shirt when you feel that coil inside you ready to snap, walls fluttering around the fingers still bullying your poor cunt. He groans at the sensation, his free hand sliding up your shirt, under your bra to tweak your nipple at the same moment his thumb presses into your clit, eliciting a sharp cry from you. "Go on then, cum on my fingers." He murmurs, now pulling at your nipple whilst continuing to rub the inside of your pussy and your clit raw.

A strangled moan escapes your lips, whiny and guttural all at once. Your pussy clamps down on his fingers as wave after hot wave crashes over your body, leaving your thighs shaking in a way that has you struggling to hold yourself. He's quick to notice, freeing your nipple from his grasp as he wraps a strong arm around your waist, holding your trembling body against him.

But he doesn't stop.

His thumb is still circling your clit, softer now, but still enough to have you twitching and sobbing from oversensitivity. "J-jay, h-hahhh — I can't, s'too much!" Your hands try to push him off you, but his grip on you is tight, insistent on wringing every last drop out of your pussy.

Jason only bites down on his bottom lip, trying to ignore the way his cock was twitching in his pants as his fingers keep working you through your orgasm. "You're still squeezing them so tight. You're not done yet, sweetheart." He rasps out, pressing his forehead gently against yours. "Thaaat's it. Keep cumming f'me."

He only lets up when your walls relax around his fingers, fluttering weakly. Your eyes are half lidded, tears pricking at the corners with your mouth parted to let out small hiccuped gasps. Slowly, he eases his fingers out of your drooling cunt, wetness dripping down to his wrist as he presses them lightly against his lips. "Messy girl." He mumbles as he sucks off your slick, eyes never leaving yours as he does so. "Shit, you taste so sweet. Gonna have to taste you properly next time."

Your pussy clenches around air at the sight. You're starting to think you might need to start praying for your survival at this rate.

You feel him shift against you, the tent in his pants brushing against you making you shiver. The sound of a zipper has your gaze falling downwards just in time to see him push down his boxers, the weight of his cock heavy against your thigh. Your eyes instantly widen, breath catching in your throat. Holy shit. He's not only long, he's also thick. The tip is flushed an angry red, already dripping pre-cum as he wraps his hand around it, letting out a relieved hiss as he swipes his thumb over his slit.

"That's not…" You gulp, "…that's not gonna fit." You finish off in a whisper, head snapping up to stare up at him.

He gives himself another slow stroke as he looks down at you, white streak of hair falling over his brows. "Sweetheart," he mutters, voice dripped in amusement, "We're gonna make it fit. Didn't you say you could take all of me? Without complaining?"

Well shit. You did say that.

He swipes his cock teasingly up and down in between your folds, smothering yout slick over his length with every move pulling out a groan from him and a breathless whimper from you. He nudges the head against your entrance, pressing inside ever so slightly, stretching you out around the width - enough for it to start stinging - before he pulls back out. Being the tease that he is, he keeps repeating the motion, for what seemed like hours on your end (it was barely a minute). You're panting, pawing at his chest, needing him to fucking put it in.

The desperation must have been obvious on your face because his hand comes up to brush stray strands of hair off your forehead gently, checking in with a soft "You ready?"

God, you've been ready for him. If the way your arousal had dripped all the way down to your knees was any indication.

"Jay I swear if you don't put your dick inside me right n- OH FUCK!" Your threat is interrupted by a squeal when he finally pushes into you, hands going back to their rightful place on his arms.

He snorts quietly, watching you with barely contained amusement. "Relax, that's just the head- fuck look at you. Twitching like you're about to come just from this."

You shake your head desperately, because what the fuck does he mean, 'just the head'? You felt like you were being split open. "It's- oh fuck — too big Jay-" You sniffle, nails leaving red dents on his pale skin as you clutch to him like a lifeline.

His low, sharp laugh cuts you off as his eyes glint almost cruelly. The hand on your head, reaches back to grab a fistful of your hair, tugging so you looked straight up at him. "What did I tell you earlier?" He purrs, pushing himself further into your entrance, eliciting a choked sob from you. "Don't wanna hear you fucking complaining. You said you could take it. So fucking take it like a good little slut."

Despite his harsh words, he eases every inch into you slowly, almost carefully. The stretch of his cock feels almost endless - your walls being forced open wider and wider with every inch. By the time he's almost all the way in, you're crying into his chest, still clutching at his now red arms from the way your nails have been digging and raking at them.

"H-hahh— s'too much-" You can't help but whimper, sniffling as you feel your pussy stretch in ways you didn't even know were possible.

"Always fuckin' whining hm?" He taunts, shoving the rest of him into you with a particularly rough thrust. Your back arches into his chest, eyes flying open as a sound that can only be described as a shriek rips from your throat, tears blurring your vision. You can feel him everywhere. Cock buried inside your warm pussy. Body wrapped around yours, touching you in any and every way he wanted.

Jason clenches his teeth, eyes squeezing shut as he lets out a relieved groan, forehead falling into the crook of your neck. "Fuck meeee. So fucking tight. Took every inch so well." He emphasises his point with a slow, deep grind of his hips into yours, another whimper slipping out of you.

"Didn't I tell you we'd make it fit, sweetheart?"He murmurs into your neck, tilting his head to look down. "You feel that?" He whispers, hand pressing into the rounded bulge of your stomach, "That's me. All the way up here." He sounds almost fascinated and it would be cute if you weren't currently shaking from his cock just entering you. He presses down harder, making sure you really feel him. Your eyes flutter, head falling forward from feeling so full and his grin sharpens.

"Don't you fucking dare pass out on me before I get to ruin this pretty pussy."

You barely hear him, let alone understand what he said. And before you can make sense of his words, he's pulled out halfway, only to thrust back into you mercilessly. You wail, half in pleasure, half in shock, walls spasming and contract in pure need.

Jason grunts, plunging in and out of you, ripping scream after scream from your poor throat, tears streaming down your cheeks. "Aw, my poor baby." He mocks, thumb swiping gently at a tear. "Are you crying? Go on. Cry on this fat cock."

Your legs are shaking. Shaking too much for you to be able to consciously hold yourself up. Jason doesn't even hesitate; he grips your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly, arms locked around your back, your legs dangling over his forearms, all while keeping you stuffed full. You're helpless in his hold, completely at his mercy.

"Oh my god— Jason!" You squeal, hands clawing at his back for purchase.

"I got you sweetheart, just hold on tight." He grits out, muscles flexing as he lifts you up and down on his cock. It's fucking brutal. Each thrust sending a jolt through your body, his grip and pace unrelenting. You couldn't even try to run away.

Your head lolls forward into his bare shoulder, biting down to muffle yet another scream. When did he even take his shirt off?

He lets out an equally feral groan, burying his face into your neck, "Feel so fucking good. Fucking made to take this dick."

"Uh huh, s-sho good—" You babble out, barely able to form any words, just repeating what he was saying back to him. You feel your arousal drip, drip, dripping down your thighs, coating Jason's own skin with every rut.

He's bouncing you on his cock like a fucking ragdoll, hips snapping up into you erratically. He nudges your head back with his own, letting it fall back against the wall, biting down onto your neck with a snarl when he notices your eyes fluttering shut. "Told you not to fucking pass out on me." He pulls you back down so hard this time, you swear you can feel the head of his cock in your fucking lungs. "You better keep those pretty eyes open, y'hear me? Cos I'm not stopping until I cum inside this drooling cunt."

He moves you ever so slightly, so that your legs were now wrapped around his waist, both of his hands grabbing onto your ass to pull you up and down like a ragdoll. You hate how much you love how easily he manhandles you.

"How are you this fucking tight? Squeezing the life out of my dick- fuck me—" He groans, teeth biting down onto whatever area of skin he hasn't marked yet (which wasn't a lot). He's hammering up into you so hard you don't even have the energy to cry out anymore. You're just gasping and sobbing brokenly on his thick fucking cock. For a minute you think this might be how you die.

He doesn't break his rhythm. Not even for one second. He doesn't give you time to breathe, everytime he plows into you, he knocks the air out of your lungs - your entire body is shaking in his hold, coated in a thin layer of sweat and arousal. Your pussy clamps down impossibly tighter around him, and he knows you're close.

So he doesn't relent.

"Shit, you're close aren't you? Can fucking feel it." He says through clenched teeth, sweat dripping down from his hair and onto his chest.

"Nghh— ah fuck. Gonna c-cum!" You don't know how you even managed to string together those words. You feel every muscle in your body tightening, convulsing as you're finally pushed over the edge.

"That's ittt, such a good fucking girl. Cum for me, sweetheart." He punctuates each word with yet another pump of his hips, your body jerking in his hold as you go limp from your orgasm. "Shit, keep going baby. Milk my fucking dry."

You're gasping, crying and panting all at once into his shoulder, feeling as if you've just had the soul sucked out of you. And yet, he doesn't stop. If anything, his grip on you tightens, bouncing you even more ruthlessly on his length. His pace is more frenzied now as he chases his own high. Your cum is dripping out of you, down onto his cock, and down both of your legs.

"So fucking close, I'm about to h-hah— lose my fucking mind" He pants out, rutting up into frantically, almost using you like a toy. "Gonna fill you up. You want it baby? Want my cum filling up that tight little pussy?"

You nod desperately into his shoulder, nails grazing across his back, leaving trails of red as your pussy clenches around him just at the thought of him cumming inside you. "P-please" You all but whimper out.

That one word is all it takes for him to let go. His warm load shoots deep inside you, filling you up to the fucking brim. "Yeah, f-fucking take it." You feel his cock twitch inside you, his forehead pressed into your neck as he huffs, grinding out the last waves of his orgasm, wanting every single drop inside you.

He doesn't let you go, doesn't even pull out - just lifts his head up from your shoulder, gently nudging at your jaw with his nose. "Look at you, fucking brat. All fucked out, sobbing and clinging to me." He mumbles teasingly. You can only let out a huff in response.

"Did so good for me." He whispers, softer this time. "My good girl, hm?"

You've managed to calm your sobs into quiet little hiccups, still overwhelmed by everything. Not only is he still inside you, but he also filled you up with his cum. It's safe to say, you don't think you'll be able to form words at the moment.

He lets out a low chuckle, bringing a hand up to cup the back of your head, holding you to his shoulder, peppering soft soothing kisses along your shoulder.

"Still think I'm small, sweetheart?"

taglist: @heliumshorns, @yinzlovescoffee ᯓ★ notes from star: comments and reblogs appreciated as always!! and lmk if you wanna be tagged for any other days!!