archive of my own

bi | she/her | 20+ Be honest—should I add you to my taglist, or just straight to my heart? lmk <3

[nottellingofname]

Meet the Author ♡

✩ Twenty-one [070105] ✧˖ ° She/Her ✧˖ ° Hair Dye enthusiast ✩ Dip. in Social Media ✧˖ ° I do Silat ✩ Anime Enthusiast!

✩ Currently writing for JJK ✩ Female/AFAB!Reader written in mind ✩ All characters are written as 18+ ✩ Angst & Fluff ✩ Writing smut is hard ✩ Free to chat! Requests are open <3

✩ Listen to The Playlists, Podcasts & Requested Songs

[totallynotashieldagent]

so idk about making it a whole proper fic but i'll do drabbles and little one shots about this specific storyline- Valko and his mate. So- you can ask for specific events with these two as well if you want! <33 love you!

The First Meeting

This was going horribly. You were talking, Valko was nodding, pretending to listen but he was not catching a single word.

You were here. In his office. But so were a handful of other people in this stupid room because this was a meeting and they had an agenda to fix the authentication layer of the new health care app.

He hated how there were so many scents overlapping your smell. He was pretty sure his employees noticed his very grumpy face. But much to his relief, they assumed that he was angry about this mishap. Not the fact that they were all crowded around his mate and talking to her and being in her vicinity- All the things that even he had barely gotten the privilege of!

"Alright." He spoke suddenly, and the room quieted down. "I think we've covered plenty of ground for now. Why don't we follow up the rest on Slack?" He asked. "Someone will add you to the company channel." He said so sweetly to you.

"Uh- Sir- Slack is only for employees-" Someone asked with confusion.

It took everything Valko had in him to not snarl at his employee and throw him out for even implying that you weren't to get access to everything and anything-

Don't these idiots realize they're speaking about my future wife? He glared at them, his back tingling as his tail wanted to be let loose.

"Consider this special circumstances." Since she'll own half of this company soon enough. He said through gritted teeth.

Everyone nodded and started to shuffle out when he asked for you to stay back.

Once the room was empty, and the last person left, leaving just you and him, he took a deep breath. Finally, just your scent. He sighed, then looked at you with a smile.

"I had a proposition for you." He was doing his best to be smooth. "How would you feel about me buying your company? You could be head of cyber security here?" Oh- And I'd get to see you everyday. Work with you all the time.

You stared at him with raised brows. "Excuse me?"

Uh oh- That's not the reaction I wanted. He almost pouted.

"I- Uh-" You gathered your thoughts to articulate yourself as kindly as you possibly could. "I think we've misunderstood one another." You looked at him.

His wolf cowered inside him. No- No- No- Mate is angry. Why is mate angry? Fix it!! Fix! Fix!

"I came to you as a favour to help you secure your app better. I'm not interested in selling or being absorbed into another company." You said firmly and Valko's wolf whined pathetically in his head.

"I'm- I'm sorry- I-" He stammered, a lump already forming in his throat.

You stared at him in confusion. Was this man about to cry because you said no to selling?

"I just- I wanted to-" He tried but what was he supposed to say? That he wanted to make sure you'd never want for anything. He cleared his throat and forced himself to calm down. "I apologize for assuming. Can I make it up to you?" He asked. "Perhaps, a dinner?" Yes- Yes. That was good. Very smooth.

You exhaled a soft laugh, zipping up your bag. "I don't think that would be appropriate. Considering we're working together at the moment."

Valko wanted to sob. "Maybe after we're done with this?"

"Maybe?" You said shyly.

Success!! His wolf jumped around. Valko smiled at you. "Maybe is good. I like maybe."

.

.

.

LADS Drabble Masterlist

[nottellingofname]

Day 7 of reblogging Valko media until he comes back!!

If Valko doesn't return on July 9, or if Infold doesn't release a statement soon, I'm deleting Infold.

[deltamel]

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE, VALKO

[nottellingofname]

Day 6 of reblogging Valko media until he's back

[nottellingofname]

.✦ ݁˖ 2.1k Celebration .✦ ݁˖

Hi babies!! We officially hit 2.1k and i'm genuinely so grateful for every single one of you 🖤

To celebrate, i'm letting YOU decide what happens in the part 2s for some of my most requested fics. Below are 5 fics with the top part 2 requests!

Stepdad!Toji & his friends - 21 June

Priest!Geto - 26 June

Brahms!Choso - 1 July

Stepcousin!Naoya - 6 July

Mean!Kento - 11 July

Audience Choice! - 16 July

Audience Choice! - 21 July

You have 3 DAYS to vote which fate Y/N deserves for the part 2 hehe

Comment down below which other works deserve a part 2! Looking forward to seeing your suggestions 🤍 (open to any works, not just jjk)

Nanami can be a scary guy...

Ino learns the Nanami thing: nice in public, mean in private.

You're being a brat and Nanami puts you in your place

You're being a brat and Nanami DOES NOT put you in your place

Voting ended onJul 7

List of part 2s:

Stepdad!Toji & his friends

Priest!Geto

Brahms!Choso

Stepcousin!Naoya

Mean!Kento

Audience Choice!

Audience Choice!

Comment down below if you wanna be tagged in any of the works!

[valkyrhii]

virgin!valko finds a new scent! ...right between your legs?!

wc: 1475

content: smut, pussy eating, pussy sniffing, sniffing everywhere, biting, valko dry humps the bed n cums all over himself, mentions predator/prey dynamic, mentions marking and abo, not proofread

“mmh. did you go somewhere new today?” valko mumbles against the skin of your shoulder, rubbing his cheek against the scar of his mark there, scenting you.

you lazily flip the page of the book you’re reading, not paying him much attention. “nope. just to the post office, why?”

valko presses his nose to your neck and sniffs the area heavily, lifting your arm and smelling down it as well. “you have a new smell.”

“hmm. well, let me know what it is when you find it.” you say, brushing it off.

valko was always saying you smelled different, thanks to his hypersensitive sense of smell. normally it was just a spice you’d used to cook, or a new skin product. he’d sniff you all over for half an hour, maybe longer, until he found it, then he’d be satisfied.

over the next fifteen minutes, valko sniffed your entire upper body over heavily, occasionally stopping to lap at your skin affectionately.

it wasn’t until he had his nose pressed against your crotch that his tail finally gave a wag. he popped his head up and tapped your inner thigh.

“i found the new smell.” he announces, proud of himself.

you glanced down at him and stifled a laugh. “what, my pussy? have you never smelled it before?”

as if realizing what he’d been doing for the first time, valko sat up, his cheeks flushed. “uh- sorry, i didn’t mean to invade your privacy like that.”

“it’s fine, valko, really. we’re dating, anyway. i’ve honestly been waiting for you to work up the courage to get down there.”

you bookmark your page and set the book down, wiggling down to get comfy against your mattress and spread your legs just slightly.

valko’s expression softens slightly, his eyes still full of curiosity. “really?”

“mhmm.” you nod and stretch your arms out, bored. “i can tell you wanna investigate..” you reach down and pull the crotch part of your loose shorts to the side, exposing the dampened fabric of your panties.

the scent hits valko stronger than before and his previous hesitation vanishes. his pupils dilate and drool pools im his mouth, threatening to spill out the corners.

he plops himself back between your thighs and noses your shorts to the side. his nose presses directly against your clit, inhaling deeply and exhaling with loud whines.

you expect him to move your panties to the side and start licking or sucking or something, but he just keeps sniffing you through them like the scent was giving him a high. you let him be for another minute before clearing your throat.

“ko, my love, do you not know how to eat someone out?” you try to ask as nicely as possible, but your voice has a hint of teasing.

he peeks up at you, yellow eyes wide with embarrassment. “no, of course i do, i’m just trying to figure out what the smell is.”

you sigh and press against his forehead, pushing his head out from between your legs. he pouts and is about to start whining again until you peel your shorts and panties off, tossing them somewhere to the side.

you take his hand and run his pointer and middle fingers through your slit, shivering at the stimulation. you guide his fingers to his nose for him to sniff, which he obviously does with vigor.

“it’s arousal. i’m aroused, valko.”

valko sniffs his own fingers heavily, giving you a distracted little. “hmm?”

you groan and grab his jaw, pull it open, and shove his wet fingers into his mouth. “do i need to hols your hand for every little thing? im horny eat me out, finger me, fuck me- do literally anything or i’m using my toys while you watch.”

“you’re horny? like, you want to reproduce?” valko asks, pieces coming together in his head. UNfortunately for you, the taste and smell of you has valko’s brain thinking more werewolf than human.

you nod and lay back down, relieved that he seems to suddenly understand. “exactly- well, not quite the reproduction part, but yes to the horny part.”

his tongue was lapping at the liquid drooling from your pussy in an instant, the rough texture a new feeling for you.

it only took a minute or so for you to realize that valko… wasn’t good at this. his tongue was clunky and he was avoiding all the spots he shouldn't avoid.

you cleared your throat and scratched at his fluffy ear. “are you a virgin?”

valko continued delivering slobbery kisses to your hole. “mmhmmmm.” he answered happily, droopy eyes opening up to meet yours. “my mate..”

you raise an eyebrow, skeptical. “you’re telling me you have never slept with anyone else? you??”

he pulled back slightly, biting on your inner thigh. “never. we mate for life, and you’re my mate, aren’t you?”

“well not technically-” you counter, only for him to interrupt you with a growl.

“not yet. this counts as mating. you’re..” he goes right back to sniffing you, whining at the heady scent. his hips roll against the mattress, desperate for stimulation. “you’re in heat, i’ll fix it.”

valko slurped and prodded at your entrance, his tongue sinking in and out experimentally. slowly hur surely, he found a rhythm that made moans bubble out of you and your back arch.

you gripped his plum colored hair and pulled. a tail with the matching plum color popped up behind him and swished back and forth agressively.

your whines and pleas encouraged valko, spurring him on as he doubled his efforts. the more he went, the more wet you got, which increased the scent just millimeters from his nose. he took in big gulps of air through his nose, sniffing you while his mouth was preoccupied.

“valk- mmhhhh, fuck!” your fingers twisted in his hair, holding him still as you ground against his face.

he pushed another finger in beside the first and curled it upwards, tongue swirling around your puffy clit at the same time.

valko humped the bed, his clothed dick hard and leaky as he savored your taste.

you whined his name again and he looked up at you, his yellow eyes glowing and piercing yours in the dark room.

you knew valko was sweet and you knew he would never in a million years hurt you, but when he looked at you like that with his eyes dilated… it felt like he was hunting you.

you didn’t have time to process how helpless that made you feel and how much you liked it before you came. you think you screamed, but you’re not entirely sure. the only thing you know is that when you sat up, your body felt like lead, your head was fuzzy, and valko’s face, hair, and fluffy ears were coated in your cum.

you’d squirted on him- the poor guy had never eaten someone out before, and you’d soaked him.

“shit, i’m so sorry, i didn’t know that would-” you try to apologize, but are cut off by valko continuing yo eat you out, far more ravenous this time.

you squeak and dig your nails into the thick muscle of his shoulder. “what are you doing?! i already came- mmh!”

he hums against you, talking with his mouth full. “i know, it’s all over me- fuck, more, i need more. give me more.” he growled, feral.

your scent was too much for him to handle when it was contained in your pants, but now that it was physically on his skin and seeping into his hair and fur? it was impossible to act with decorum.

valko didn’t relent until you’d came five more times, only stopping once he realized you were crying from overstimulation.

he’d also cum numerous times in his pants, whimpering and whining in both pain and pleasure at how his knot swelled against nothing, throbbing uselessly as he wasted his cum.

valko cuddled you after, laying you on top of him and nuzzling his face (still coated in your cum) against yours. you’d chastized him for that, trying to convince him to wash it off, but he looked at you like you’d asked him to shave his tail. “you marked me, don’t you realize? i’m never cleaning my face.”

you scoff and gnaw at the spot between his shoukder and neck. “i could actually mark you if you want.”

valko’s tail thumped against the bed beside you, wagging happily. “please? please, pleaseee mark me, i’m ready.”

“mmmh. fine. but that makes me the alpha, doesn’t it?” you tease him with a smirk.

valko huffed and raised his lip, showing his fangs. “you don’t have these, do you?”

you laugh and shush him. “quiet down and let me mark you, like a good omega.”

valko growled, but whined happily when you bit at his skin.

a/n: they were supposed to fuck but i got lost im the sauce like valko

tags: @colonelkaboom @sweetcalebb @heartyluv @rafayelkisses @wetforsylus @angeleclair @insidious-innocence @xaviersbunny @deepspacenova @silverianni @paintedperidot @luvleixo @gardenialily @xinghuisknight @theerogueprincess

dividers from @strangergraphics

[nottellingofname]

Day 5 of reblogging Valko media until he's back

[xiexielians]

We were probably in a "you're mine" sorta dynamic?

[nottellingofname]

Day 4 of reblogging Valko media until he's back

We could've had a hunk sniffing us but bitches are too afraid of change

[zaynezone]

part 1

Honestly? You have no idea how you got here.

“You need-to-be-quiet.” Zayne’s words are mumbled against your lips, an attempt to swallow your moans. It’s a good plan in theory, but you aren’t the only one making noise.

“Fuck…taste so good…” Valko nearly moans into your pussy, holding the vibrating panties aside so he can lap at your wetness. Your leg is thrown over his shoulder, heel digging into his back with every flick of his tongue.

"V-Valko! Fuck!" You grip his hair, tugging him even closer to you. Zayne is clearly amused, smirking as his head dips to nip at your neck, leaving a mark.

"Don't cum yet." He murmurs against the shell of your ear, making your hips jerk against Valko's mouth as you try to hold off.

"But Z-Zayne!" You whine, tearing up at the sensation. Valko definitely heard the command, and slows down to keep you on edge.

A cool hand slips down, repositioning the panties to be pressed against your clit, though Valko keeps them tugged aside enough to taste you. The vibrations switch back on, but Zayne's hands are both empty...

Oh that stupid wolf.

His grin is evil as he switches it higher. Your body goes rigid, tugging his hair even harder as you desperately hold off your orgasm.

"Zayne p-please!" With tears streaming down your face, you're sure you look a picture of desperation. When he mumbles his approval, your vision goes white.

"H-holy shit..." You murmur as Valko fixes your underwear, setting your leg down carefully as Zayne adjusts your dress.

"I think we'll be going now. Care to join us for dinner?" Zayne offers, draping his jacket over your shoulder. Valko debates for a moment, and after licking his lips, nods.

"...Sure. I could eat."

[nottellingofname]

Day 3 of reblogging Valko media until he's back

[calebunny]

Woof🐺🐶

The doggos figure out how they both fit in your life... literally

Caleb x reader x Valko (applewolf) Warnings/Tropes: Explicit, MDNI. Lil Rivalry/Lil Fruity bw the boys (yes i love me some spice), Double penetration, Praise, Size difference, Overstimulation, Rough sex

wc: 1200

You weren't sure how you got here.

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a blade. The only sound was the steady, grating hum of a drill working into metal. Biting your lip, you looked up, your eyes darting between the two men sitting in front of you. Hostility radiated off both of them. 

Caleb was shooting daggers at the redhead. Valko kept his jaw clenched, a muscle ticking as his gaze remained fixated on Caleb’s mechanical arm, ignoring the glare as he tightened the final bolts. 

You contemplated all your life choices that led up to this moment.

Caleb, your dear sweet Caleb, the only boy you had eyes for your entire life, had returned to Linkon after a months-long mission in the deepspace tunnel. Like always, he was staying with you in your apartment. And since you had recently learned about the reality of his mechanical arm, you had been gently pushing him to be more vulnerable with you– which included nagging him until he finally let you tag along for his routine maintenance repairs. 

Except there was a slight problem. You had discovered a little too late that the technician in charge of keeping Caleb’s arm functional was, well... Valko. 

You had met him while Caleb was away on his mission, when your paths crossed with the Encore tech company during your hunter duties. And your relationship with him had quickly devolved from professional boundaries into something entirely different. 

Filled with heated proximity and unaddressed, impulsive kisses that you both had indulged in. You were left in a predicament that left you utterly confused, suddenly finding yourself deeply attracted to a man who wasn't Caleb. It wasn't like your feelings for your first love had dissipated; you were just…stuck. 

And as fate would have it, your plans of hopefully distancing from both men to get your head straight were instantly foiled. All of your paths had collided into one volatile mess. 

After what felt like ages,Valko finally set the heavy machinery aside. He inspected Caleb’s arm one last time before pulling his protective glasses off, to which Caleb responded with a low grunt. 

“So,” Valko started, his nostrils flaring as he clenched his jaw hard enough to crack bone. His sensitive sense of smell was painstakingly aware of the distinct scent you and Caleb now shared, perhaps due to the fact that he was using your bodywash whilst living with you.

“How do you know him exactly?” Valko cocked an eyebrow, his sharp gaze snapping over to you. You stiffened in your seat, your throat going completely dry. You opened your mouth to respond, but Caleb beat you to the chase.

“I believe I should be the one asking that question.” Caleb tilted his head, eyes locking onto the redhead. “I can tell there have been recent... developments since I last left you, pips.” 

Now both of them were staring directly at you, waiting.

Goddammit. Of course he knew something was up between the two of you. Your body language probably gave everything away, alongside the fact that Valko looked too comfortable being in your personal space. 

“I-I can explain,” you squeaked, shrinking back into your chair, feeling like prey caught in a trap.

You didn't think it was possible, but the following events stunned you even further. After you finally stammered out the truth, you had fully expected them to completely flip out. With how fiercely overprotective Caleb had been throughout your entire life, combined with the fact that Valko was weirdly territorial about you around anyone else, you figured all hell would break loose. 

But instead, the atmosphere in the room shifted.They exchanged a look– a knowing, dangerous glint passing between them before they shared the same canine grin.

Which led to your current situation. 

You were pulled onto Caleb’s lap, your back pressed flush against his chest, and your thighs held up and spread wide apart by his arms, completely naked and exposed to the man in front of you. You would have tried to shy away if not for the wreck happening below.

 Both men were sinking their cocks  into your pussy at the same time, stretching the tiny hole to the point where your vision went blurry. 

“Ahh- t-too big,” you whined, yet looking down, full blown tears started streaming down your cheeks at the fact that they weren't even halfway inside.

Valko leaned over, using his tongue to lick the salty tears away, a smug smile stretching across his face. “Oh? I thought you wanted us both at the same time, puppy.” 

Panicking at the mounting pressure, you tried to arch your hips upward, wanting to escape their dicks bullying their way into you. But Valko’s large hands locked onto your hips like vices, holding you down firmly in place. 

“Nah, clearly puppy over here, is all bark no bite.” Caleb murmured from behind you, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he condescendingly enunciated Valko's nickname for you. 

Soon enough, when they both finally bottomed out with heavy grunts, their dicks throbbing in unison against your tight walls, your pussy betrayed you. To your utter humiliation, you came, hard, all from just being stuffed to the brim.

“F-fuck. That's all you needed huh. I mean–Shit. Just look at her bro” Valko practically whimpered, his voice breaking at how tightly you were gripping and spasming around them. It didn't help your case at all when he reached over to rub deliberate circles on your clit, making you gush, your slick release dripping down their connected lengths.

Without warning, Caleb leaned over, wrapped his hand securely around your neck, and used you as leverage to thrust up into you. The sudden movement prompted Valko to move as well, hissing from the friction of Caleb sliding against him. 

“hah! My god, mmph–” You were oh so gone, your face going completely slack in a lewd expression as your eyes rolled back into your skull. 

“Nasty girl, look at how wet you are,” Caleb mused, looking down at the filthy sight where you were all connected. It was messy and uncoordinated at first, with Valko growing ravenous as your scent intensified by tenfold from how much you were dripping everywhere. 

Quickly though, Caleb got annoyed by the boy’s chaotic movements, so much so that he reached forward to grab a handful of Valko's hair, tugging back sharply until he slowed down. 

“Slow down, mutt. In case you forgot, she's not the only one feeling your dick here.” 

“Nah,” Valko flashed a wolfish smile, the fact that Caleb was sharing your scent turned him on a little more than he’d care to admit. “I know you’re upset it took you years to fuck her, and what'd it take me? A few months? How bout’chu pipe down mutt”

Their little hissing match translated into rocking into you even deeper, each thrust practically hitting your cervix with brutal force. Clearly, you were going to be the sacrificial lamb between the two of them today.  “G-guys, slow down, too much-!” you sobbed out, too overwhelmed from the men rutting into you like they were in heat.

“Nope.”

“nuh-uh,” you heard in unison.

Fuck me, you thought, your mind completely melting as they picked up the pace. This is gonna take a while.

tags: @lanalemonn @hilliserose  @myspi2010

[nottellingofname]

Day 2 of reblogging Valko media until he's back

[spacekittiesmeow]

valko is an eater through and through.

and it's not pretty.

his thumbs dig into your inner thighs, holding you open as he obscenely slurps the sweet mix of your arousal and his spit as one eats a bowl of ramen.

it's the same, torturous style. his tongue flattened over your parted, glistening lips, lapping the juices out of your pulsing hole and back up to your clit--giving it a firm lick before he buries his face into your cunt.

your scent acts like a siren’s call, the sweetness consuming him all at once. valko is feverishly hot, lips latching onto your hole and his sinful tongue coaxing out more of your sweetness.

"are you even-ah!-gonna make me cum?" he's not once sucked on your clit. no, he's been edging you with kitten licks. "if not I can just use my vibe."

you think it'll rile him up. instead, his gaze snaps at you, ears tucked down like a kicked puppy.

"n-no, no, fuck..." he begs, unable to keep himself from tasting you again. "i can't help it. I've never been this close to you..."

he dives in again. "s'killin me." his voice vibrates against your clit, as he takes it into his mouth.

"ngh valko... like that," your hips rock themself into his mouth. but then he let's go of your clit to eat your gushing juices.

"are you serious--" your fingers thread into his hair.

"please--just a little more." his fingers plunge into your hole.

"promise I'll make it up to you,"

intellectual property of © spacekittiesmeow 2026

[nottellingofname]

Day 1 of reblogging Valko media until he's back

[nottellingofname]

#BRINGVALKOBACK

It's so disappointing and disheartening to see Valko's development and storylines get erased JUST LIKE THAT!!!

I feel like wearing Valko just adds more work to the L*** And Deep***** team??? Imagine the disappointment and heartbreak the team faces when they poured their heart and soul into making Valko. The creative team, the animation team, the cosplay team.

If this is how they treat their workers, don't even think about how they'd treat US.

I was really looking forward to seeing Valko, something fresh from a game that's been so stagnant. But the "target" audience seem so scared of change, that they're willing to settle for mediocrity.

Not saying the main story and the other 5 LIs are boring, but come on now. What's so bad about having something new?

I feel like they could've solved all problems if they just kept Valko, and be transparent in how they're going to pace the story with 6 LIs. Instead they took the lazy and easiest way out, which hurts a lot of the fans.

But who am I to say anything about this right? It's just a game.

[nottellingofname]

.✦ ݁˖ 2.1k Celebration .✦ ݁˖

Hi babies!! We officially hit 2.1k and i'm genuinely so grateful for every single one of you 🖤

To celebrate, i'm letting YOU decide what happens in the part 2s for some of my most requested fics. Below are 5 fics with the top part 2 requests!

Stepdad!Toji & his friends - 21 June

Priest!Geto - 26 June

Brahms!Choso - 1 July

Stepcousin!Naoya - 6 July

Mean!Kento - 11 July

Audience Choice! - 16 July

Audience Choice! - 21 July

You have 3 DAYS to vote which fate Y/N deserves for the part 2 hehe

Comment down below which other works deserve a part 2! Looking forward to seeing your suggestions 🤍 (open to any works, not just jjk)

Stepdad!Toji part 2

Sukuna keeps you for himself

Sukuna tries to take you, but he has to fight Toji for you

Toji invites a new set of friends to watch you

Voting ended onJun 17

List of part 2s:

Stepdad!Toji & his friends

Priest!Geto

Brahms!Choso

Stepcousin!Naoya

Mean!Kento

Audience Choice!

Audience Choice!

Comment down below if you wanna be tagged in any of the works!

[nottellingofname]

ANNOUNCEMENT!!!

Unfortunately, I am not getting better. I'm going to have to put this event and further writing on hold </3

ONCE I GET BETTER THOUGH!!!! I'll finish up this event for you guys :)

[nottellingofname]

.✦ ݁˖ 2.1k Celebration .✦ ݁˖

Hi babies!! We officially hit 2.1k and i'm genuinely so grateful for every single one of you 🖤

To celebrate, i'm letting YOU decide what happens in the part 2s for some of my most requested fics. Below are 5 fics with the top part 2 requests!

Stepdad!Toji & his friends - 21 June

Priest!Geto - 26 June

Brahms!Choso - 1 July

Stepcousin!Naoya - 6 July

Mean!Kento - 11 July

Audience Choice! - 16 July

Audience Choice! - 21 July

You have 3 DAYS to vote which fate Y/N deserves for the part 2 hehe

Comment down below which other works deserve a part 2! Looking forward to seeing your suggestions 🤍 (open to any works, not just jjk)

What bs is Naoya gonna come up with?

Naoya intentionally flaunts you around

Reverse card, Naoya pisses on YOU

Naoya, King of Cuckoldry

Voting ended onJul 2

List of part 2s:

Stepdad!Toji & his friends

Priest!Geto

Brahms!Choso

Stepcousin!Naoya

Mean!Kento

Audience Choice!

Audience Choice!

Comment down below if you wanna be tagged in any of the works!

[nottellingofname]

I could f☆ck you all the time! -`♡´-

2.1K celebration .✦ ݁˖

Hell, you’d always assumed, would announce itself. There would be signs. Sulfur, maybe, or a general sense of moral reckoning.

What you hadn’t accounted for was a clerical collar and a man behind it who looked at you the way a priest looks at something that isn’t a prayer but probably should be.

The last time you’d stepped foot in the church was December.

After that, you’d stopped going.

Not because the sermons were boring, though God knows they were, and not because you’d suddenly found religion distasteful. You’d stopped because Geto had stopped being there, and what was the point of confessing to anyone else?

The other priests asked questions the way men fill out paperwork. Geto asked questions that made your skin feel too small for your body.

So you’d stayed home.

Sunday mornings became an exercise in pretending you had better things to do than kneel in a dark box and whisper sins into a grate while a beautiful man with too many piercings told you exactly how bad you’d been.

The irony wasn’t lost on you that the only time you’d felt genuinely holy was when you were at your most profane.

Six months passed. Spring came with its pathetic insistence on renewal, and you’d almost convinced yourself that the whole thing had been a fever dream brought on by bad incense and too many candles. Almost.

Then your phone rang.

The number was unfamiliar, which normally would have given you pause. You had the self-preservation instincts of a moth that had seen a flame and thought, Well, that looks cozy.

You picked up on the first ring.

“Hello?” Your voice came out steadier than you felt.

A pause.

And then a sound.

Low, warm, the vocal equivalent of honey being poured over something that shouldn’t be sweetened. You knew that sound the way your body knew the exact temperature at which ice melts. You’d heard it in the confessional, whispering things that had nothing to do with absolution.

“Suguru,” you said, and his name in your mouth tasted like sin.

“Hello, little sinner.” His voice purred through the speakers. “I’ve been wondering where you’ve been hiding.”

Your throat went dry. “I haven’t been hiding. I’ve been... living my life.”

“Without confession?” The way he said it, you’d think you’d announced you were breathing without oxygen. “That’s not like you. You were so devoted. Every Sunday, like clockwork. You’d kneel there in that short skirt —”

“It wasn’t short.”

“It was when you knelt.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “The church misses you.”

“The church,” you repeated, and the word felt wrong in your mouth. “Or just you?”

He laughed then, “Can’t it be both? I’m an extension of the divine, after all. My desires are... ecclesiastically adjacent.”

You pressed the phone harder against your ear, as if proximity could bridge the gap between his mouth and your skin. The room around you suddenly seemed too small, too safe. You wanted danger. You wanted to be in a room with Geto Suguru and no exits. You wanted his hands, which had touched holy things, on the least holy parts of you. You wanted to be looked at the way he looked at you, like a perverse sin waiting to be baptized.

“The church keeps records, you know.” Geto’s voice shifted into something that wore disappointment like a costume.

You pressed yourself against the headboard of your bed, as if the wood could absorb some of the heat building under your skin. “Are you saying I’m going to hell for skipping mass?”

“I’m saying,” he replied, each word weighted, “that hell has a special section for pretty girls who only show up when they think they’ll get something out of it.”

You laughed, but it came out shaky. “I showed up for you. Not for the wafer, not for the wine. Just you.”

“And now you don’t show up at all.” A rustling sound through the speaker, fabric against fabric. You didn’t need to see him to know he’d shifted, settled deeper into whatever chair he was occupying. “That’s the part that concerns me. A soul adrift. A lamb separated from its... shepherd.”

“I told you,” you said, and your voice had gone soft. “I don’t want forgiveness from anyone else. It doesn’t... it doesn’t mean anything if it’s not you.”

Another rustle. Slower this time. Then a sound so low you almost missed it. The sound of a man who has decided that God is not watching, or has decided that he doesn’t mind if He is.

Your throat closed. “Suguru.”

“Hmm?”

“Are you—” You couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Am I what?” His voice was honey over gravel now, thick and rough at the edges. “Touching myself while discussing your spiritual well-being? Is that what you’re asking?”

The bluntness of it knocked the air from your lungs. You’d known that Geto Suguru was not a man who bothered with euphemisms, but hearing it stated so plainly while you sat alone in your bedroom made the world tilt slightly on its axis.

“Yes,” you said.

“Yes I am.”

You could hear it now. The subtle, wet sounds that no amount of careful breathing could disguise. The rhythm of it, slow and practiced.

“Suguru,” you said again, and this time it was a challenge. “What would your good girl do right now? The one who goes to church every Sunday and says all the right prayers?”

He groaned.

“My good girl,” he said, each word measured, “wouldn’t be on the phone with her priest while he’s—”

“Fucking his fist?” you supplied, and the vulgarity felt good in your mouth, like a secret you’d been keeping too long.

A sharp intake of breath. Then, lower, “She wouldn’t say that. She’d be polite. She’d ask for guidance. She’d tell me her sins in that sweet, shaking voice that makes me want to—”

“Want to what?”

Another groan, longer this time, and you could picture his head tilted back, the long line of his throat exposed, those piercings catching whatever light was in the room. “She makes me want to ruin her.”

Your hand had found its way between your legs without your conscious permission, and you didn’t stop it. The phone pressed hot against your ear, Geto’s breathing a counterpoint to the pulse between your thighs.

“I’ve been bad,” you whispered, and it wasn’t an act. “I’ve been so bad, Suguru. I think about you when I’m alone. I think about your mouth. Your hands. That thing you do with your—”

“Stop.” His voice cracked on the word. “If you keep talking like that, I’m going to cum, and I haven’t even gotten to the part where I tell you why I called.”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling. “Sorry.”

“You’re not sorry.” Another rustle, the sound of him adjusting, and when he spoke again his voice had that polished, priestly cadence that meant he was switching gears. “I think there’s something in your house.”

The abrupt shift made you blink. “What?”

“Something... unwholesome. A presence. I can sense these things.” He said it with absolute conviction. “That’s why you haven’t been coming to church. There’s a demonic influence keeping you away. Something dark. Something that feeds on innocence.”

You almost laughed. The only demonic influence in your house was the half-empty bottle of cheap vodka in the kitchen cabinet and the lingering resentment you felt toward your stepfather every time he left his shoes in the hallway.

“That’s ridiculous,” you said.

“Is it?” His voice dropped. “Then explain why, the moment I mention church, your voice changes. Why you tense up. Why you haven’t set foot in here since last year. Something’s keeping you there, little sinner. Something that doesn’t want you near me.”

The only thing stopping you from seeing the priest was your stepdad, rightfully.

“What are you suggesting?” you asked, though you already knew.

“A house visit.” The words came out smooth, practiced. “An exorcism, of sorts. I come to you. I assess the situation. I determine the nature of the... entity... that’s preventing your attendance.”

“And then what?”

A pause.

“Then,” Geto said, “I rectify it. Thoroughly. In the way only a man of God can.”

“When?” you asked.

“Tonight.” No hesitation. “I have a window. The church thinks I’m doing outreach.”

“Okay,” you said. “Tonight.”

“Good girl,” he replied.

You hung up the phone and stared at the ceiling, and wondered, not for the first time, what kind of person agrees to let their priest come over for an exorcism.

Geto Suguru had, in seminary, been taught that righteousness was a feeling you earned. No one had specified what you had to do to earn it, which he was finding, crouched behind a hydrangea bush at eleven o’clock on a Tuesday, left a great deal of room for interpretation.

Geto adjusted the camera in his lap, not the one he used for church events, God no, that would be sacrilegious, but the small, discreet one he had ordered online with a fake name and paid for in cash.

The footage was grainy but serviceable. He had seventeen hours of you moving through your house, unaware. He had you making breakfast in a t-shirt that rode up when you reached for the coffee. He had you watching TV with your legs curled under you. He had you, twice, touching yourself in the shower, the glass fogged but not enough.

Geto told himself it was pastoral care. Extended surveillance. The modern shepherd keeps watch over his flock, and if his flock happened to have excellent legs and a habit of biting your lower lip when you thought no one was looking, well, that was between Geto and God, and God had been conspicuously silent on the matter.

The stepfather was the problem. The large, surly man who occupied the back bedroom and who had, on three separate occasions, answered the door when Geto had rung the bell under the pretense of collecting for the church renovation fund. Each time, he'd looked at Geto with suspicion, and each time, Geto had smiled his most beatific smile and left without seeing you.

Not tonight.

Geto watched through the kitchen window as the stepfather poured himself a drink. Something amber. Something strong, judging by the way he didn't bother with ice. He carried it to the living room, settled into his chair, and turned on the television.

Perfect.

He'd been planning this for days. The pills were simple, prescription sedatives, acquired through a parishioner with insomnia and loose morals. Crushed. Dissolved. Carried in a small vial that looked, to anyone who might search his pockets, like holy water.

He waited until the man left the room to use the bathroom. Thirty seconds. That was all he needed.

Geto crossed the street like a man on official business. The back door was unlocked, you never locked it, another detail from his surveillance, and he was inside before his conscience could form a complete sentence.

The kitchen smelled like whatever you'd made for dinner. He found the man's glass on the counter, still half-full, and tipped the vial into it with the steady hand. A quick stir with his finger. Back out the door. Back across the street. Back behind the hydrangea, camera recording.

He didn't have to wait long.

Twenty minutes later, Toji was asleep in his bed, head tilted at an angle that would guarantee a stiff neck, mouth slightly open, the empty glass beside him like evidence he had no intention of leaving behind.

Geto gave it another ten minutes, just to be sure. The sedative was strong enough that a man his size would be out for at least three hours, possibly four. Long enough for what Geto had in mind.

He checked his reflection in the car window. Hair pulled back. Collar straight. The tattoos on his wrists hidden by his sleeves.

He looked, he thought, exactly like what he was supposed to be. A man of God paying a house call.

God, in this case, was whatever made your thighs look like sin.

He knocked on the front door. Three firm raps, the way he knocked on every door, the way that said I am here on official business and also I have been thinking about your mouth since December.

You opened the door within seconds, and the sight of you, hair slightly messy, wearing those shorts that did absolutely nothing for his concentration, eyes wide with lust, hit him with the force of a physical blow.

“Shh,” you said, before he could speak. You put a finger to your lips, and he stared at it longer than was strictly pastoral. “He's asleep. My stepdad. In his room. He had a rough night, I think. Just... be quiet, okay?”

Geto smiled. “I'll be quick,” he said, and the lie tasted sweet on his tongue.

He had no intention of being quick.

You stepped aside, and Geto crossed the threshold like a man returning home.

The door closed behind him. The lock clicked.

Geto just stood there, looking at you. Not saying anything. His gaze moved slowly, taking you in piece by piece, like he was trying to memorize every detail. It lingered just long enough to make your stomach tighten. Like he was weighing something up. Like he'd already made a decision and was simply deciding where to start.

Then his hand was in your hair, not pulling, just resting there. His fingers found a strand that had fallen across your cheek, and he tucked it behind your ear delicately.

“There you are,” he said, and his voice was so soft you almost didn’t recognize it. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You opened your mouth to say something clever, or at least coherent, but his thumb was on your lower lip, and then his mouth was replacing his thumb, and the kiss was nothing like you’d expected.

It was gentle.

He kissed your mouth, then your cheek, then the corner of your jaw, then the spot below your ear that made you make a sound you hadn't meant to. By the time he reached your collarbone, your hands were fisted in the fabric of his shirt and you were breathing like you’d run a mile.

“Suguru,” you managed, and his name came out wrecked.

His hand tightened in your hair, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you that he could. He pulled your head back, exposing your throat to the dim light of the hallway. His eyes, when they met yours, had gone dark.

“Look at you,” he said, and his voice had that rough edge to it. “Desperate. Already. And I haven’t even started.”

Before you could respond, his hand was on your lower back, firm and insistent, pushing you forward until your palms hit the wall beside the front door. The plaster was cool against your skin, and his heat at your back made something low in your belly tighten.

“Arms out,” he said, and when you didn’t move fast enough, he took your wrists and placed them flat against the wall himself. “Spread your legs. Wider.”

You always did what he said, which was a character flaw you had no interest in correcting.

His hand slid under the hem of your shirt, tracing the line of your spine with a touch so light it might have been accidental if you didn’t know better. Then lower, to the waistband of your shorts, and his fingers hooked there, pulling down with no struggle.

The shorts hit your ankles. The cool air of the hallway hit your exposed skin, and you shivered, and Geto moaned.

“So wet,” he said, and his hand was between your legs now, fingers spreading you open, making your face burn. “Already so wet for me. After one kiss?”

His thumb traced your entrance and you felt yourself clench around nothing, your body betraying you. “Look at you twitch. There’s something in this room, little sinner. Something making you flutter like this.”

You pressed your forehead against the wall and tried to remember how to form sentences. “It’s not — it’s not a demon, Suguru, it’s just —”

“Just what? Lust? Desire? The natural response of a woman who hasn’t been properly attended to?” His voice had taken on that lecturing quality, the one he used in sermons “No. This is darker than that. This requires intervention.”

His intervention, as it turned out, involved his mouth.

You felt his breath first, hot against your exposed skin, and then his tongue, flat and wet and relentless, dragging from your entrance to your clit in one long, slow stroke that made your thighs shake.

You bit your lip hard enough to taste copper, because somewhere in the back of the house, your stepfather was sleeping, and the thought of him waking up to the sound of his stepdaughter being eaten out against the front door by a priest was not something you were equipped to handle.

But Geto wasn’t stopping.

His tongue was everywhere, circling your clit like it’s a competitive sport, then lower, dipping into your entrance, then lower still, and oh god, his tongue was on your ass.

You made a sound. A small, choked squeak that you hadn’t meant to make and couldn’t take back. Because his tongue wasn’t just on your ass. It was in your ass, and there was something metal there, something hard and cool against the sensitive ring of muscle.

His tongue piercing. It was inside you now, the metal bead rubbing against you from the inside with each movement of his tongue. The sensation was so foreign that your vision blurred.

“Fuck,” you whispered, and the profanity in your mouth felt like the only appropriate response to having a pierced tongue in your ass while your stepfather slept twenty feet away.

Geto hummed against you, the vibration traveled through your body like a live wire. His fingers, which had been teasing your entrance, pushed inside you. Two, then three. The dual sensation — his tongue in your ass, his fingers in your pussy, both moving in a rhythm that suggested he’d given this particular combination a great deal of thought — was too much. His tongue lapped at your asshole while his fingers curled inside you, slick and relentless. The double invasion was filthy and far too good to bear.

You came with a violence that surprised you, your body clamping around his fingers, your thighs shaking against his face. A sound built in your throat that you swallowed just in time, turning it into a muffled groan as you pressed into the wall.

For a moment, everything was white. Then the hallway came back into focus, and Geto was slowly withdrawing. His tongue first, with a wet sound that made your face burn hotter, then his fingers, sliding out of you.

You heard him stand. Heard him adjusting his clothes. Then his hand was in front of your face, fingers glistening with your release, and you stared at them.

“Look at that,” Geto said, sounding pleased and smug. “So much. For a demonic influence, it’s remarkably... productive.”

Before you could respond, he shook his hand, a quick, sharp flick of his wrist, and your juices flew off his fingers in a fine spray that landed on the front door, the wall, the small table where you kept your keys. He did it again, and again, each shake sending another arc of wetness across your hallway.

“Blessing the premises,” Geto explained, and his smile was evil.

Geto’s hand was in your hair again, fingers wrapped tight around the roots, and he was pulling. You had no choice but to follow the line of his arm as he walked backward down the hallway.

“Kitchen,” he said, and it wasn’t a request. “Now.”

You stumbled after him, one hand reaching back to grip his wrist to steady yourself, because your legs were still shaking. The kitchen lights were off, but the glow from the hallway cast everything in a dim, golden haze that made the whole scene feel like a dream you were having while awake.

Which, given the circumstances, wasn’t far from the truth.

He released your hair when you reached the center island, and for a moment you just stood there, breathing hard, listening for any sound from the back bedroom.

Nothing.

Just the soft hum of the refrigerator and the slightly faster hum of your own pulse in your ears.

Geto circled you slowly. His hand trailed along your hip, your waist, the curve of your ass. Then he was behind you, his chest pressed against your back, his mouth at your ear.

“The kitchen,” he murmured, and his breath was hot against your skin, “is where nourishment happens. Sustenance. The body’s daily bread.”

His hand slid between your legs from behind, fingers finding you still wet and sensitive from his mouth. You jerked against him with a gasp you barely caught.

“But you’re not being nourished, are you? You’re being... corrupted. Something in this room is turning sustenance into sin.”

His hand left you, and you heard the sound of a zipper being pulled down. His cock was against you, thick and hot. The piercings you couldn’t see but could certainly feel, dragged along your folds.

He was rubbing himself against you now, the head of his cock catching on your entrance with each stroke. He's just teasing, the piercings creating a sensation that was pleasure and torture.

Your hands gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles white. You pressed your forehead against the cool granite and tried to remember how to breathe.

“Sugu…,” you managed. “Please.”

“Please what?” His hand wrapped around your hip, holding you steady as he continued that maddening, barely-there friction. “Use your words, little sinner. Confession requires specificity.”

You turned your head, just enough to look at him over your shoulder. He hadn't bothered to undress. Everything was still in place except for the cock pushed free from his open pants, as if even that couldn't be bothered with subtlety. The piercings caught the light every time he moved, and your eyes kept betraying you.

“Fuck me,” you said, and the words came out raw. “Please. Just — fuck me, Suguru, I can’t —”

You didn’t finish the sentence because he was pushing into you, finally. One smooth, relentless thrust that buried him to the hilt and knocked the air from your lungs. He was big, God he was big, and the piercings created a ridged texture inside you that your body was still learning how to process.

Geto didn’t give you time to adjust.

His hands were on your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks. He pulled out so slowly you could feel every ridge, every piercing dragging against your walls. And then he slammed back in with a force that drove you forward against the counter.

Your hands scrabbled for purchase. The fruit bowl was directly in your path. Your elbow caught the edge of it, and apples and oranges went rolling across the counter in a scatter.

One apple hit the floor with a dull thud. An orange followed. Geto didn’t pause. His rhythm was steady now, each thrust driving you harder against the granite, and your fingers clawed at the smooth surface, searching for something, anything to hold onto.

Then his hand was in your hair again, pulling your head back, and the angle changed. Your spine arched, your ass pressed against his hips, and he was deeper, so much deeper, the head of his cock hitting a spot inside you that made your vision blur at the edges.

“Up,” he said, and his free hand gripped your thigh, lifting your leg onto the counter beside the scattered fruit.

The new position opened you wider, let him slide in at an angle that had you seeing colors that weren’t on any spectrum. His hand in your hair kept pulling, kept your back arched, kept you exposed and helpless and so full of him you couldn’t remember your own name.

“Fuck,” you whispered, and it was the only word your brain could produce.

He pulled out at his own unhurried pace, making sure you felt every piercing before he finally slipped free.

You slumped against the counter, breathing hard, legs trembling, and heard Geto adjusting his clothes behind you. Then he stepped to the side and you heard it, the distinctive sound of a man shaking his dick.

You turned your head just in time to see Geto giving his cock a firm shake that sent a fine spray of your combined fluids across the kitchen island, the scattered fruit, the tile floor.

“Stop,” you gasped, between laughs. “Oh my god, stop, that’s — that’s not —”

“It’s our holy water,” Geto said, with absolute conviction. “The demons here are strong.”

He walked you down the hallway by your hair. Two fingers hooked at the root, the grip so practiced and unhurried that your body was ready follow and to be grateful for the direction.

The living room was dark except for the blue glow of the television, which someone had left on mute. The screen cycled through a nature documentary about penguins waddling across ice.

Geto guided you to the large window that faced the street. The curtains were half-drawn, which meant that from the waist up, anyone passing by would see nothing. From the waist down, it was a different story.

You realized this two seconds before Geto pressed you against the glass.

“Wait,” you said, your palms flat against the cool surface, breath fogging a small circle on the pane. “The window — people can —”

“Can they?” Geto’s voice was behind you, close, his chest against your back, his hands on your hips. “It’s eleven-thirty on a Tuesday. The only people out there are insomniacs and me, and I’m already here.”

He didn’t bother with preliminaries this time. One hand between your legs, fingers finding you wet and then he was pushing into you from behind, one smooth thrust that drove you harder against the glass.

The cold glass pressed against your breasts while his warmth stayed buried inside you. The contrast made your teeth ache. But it was the window that got to you. Anyone could see. Maybe no one was looking. Maybe someone was. Not knowing was half the thrill.

Geto set a pace that was faster than the kitchen, harder, his hips slamming against your ass with a rhythm that made the window frame rattle slightly in its casing. Each thrust drove you against the glass, and each impact sent a small, damp cloud of breath across the pane. You watched your own reflection blur and reappear with each movement, flushed, wild-eyed, fucked-out.

“Look,” Geto said, his voice rough against your ear, one hand reaching around to grip your throat. “Look outside.”

You did. The street was empty. Dark. Quiet. A single streetlamp cast a yellow circle on the asphalt, and in that circle, nothing moved.

Except, there, parked half a block down, a car.

You wouldn’t have looked at it once, if Geto hadn’t pointed it out.

Something cold settled in your stomach. A suspicion. A question you weren’t sure you wanted answered.

Geto didn’t give you time to pursue it. His hand left your throat, gripped your hip instead, and fucked you harder against the glass, his rhythm losing its precision, becoming something ragged and hungry that had you biting your lip to keep from crying out.

When he pulled out, it was abrupt. A sharp withdrawal that left you empty and aching, your forehead resting against the glass, your breath coming in short, ragged pants.

“Kneel,” Geto said.

You turned. His hand found your hair, always the hair, God, did the man have any other gripping options, and he guided you down until your knees hit the carpet.

“Pray,” he said.

You blinked up at him. “What?”

“Pray. You know how. You’ve done it every Sunday, right?” His thumb traced your lower lip. “Give me a Hail Mary. For our Father. Something with structure.”

You stared at him. Then, slowly, you folded your hands and began to mumble.

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee...” Your voice was shaky, barely above a whisper, and the words felt strange in your mouth, like a language you’d learned in a dream. “Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus...”

Geto’s hand was on the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, and his cock was inches from your face.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our —”

You didn’t get to finish because Geto’s cock was in your mouth, one thrust that buried him deep in your throat. The piercings created ridges against your tongue, against the roof of your mouth, against the back of your throat where the head pressed with an insistence that made your eyes water.

You made a muffled, desperate sound, and your hands came up to grip his thighs, not to push him away but to steady yourself. The world was tilting and the only fixed point was the cock in your mouth and the hand in your hair holding you there.

Geto didn’t give you time to adjust. His hips started moving short, sharp thrusts that drove him deeper each time. Saliva pooled, spilled, dripped down your chin and onto your chest. You could hear you own mouth being thoroughly used, the small, choked gasps between thrusts when he pulled back just enough to let you breathe.

You looked up. His head was thrown back, eyes closed, his free hand braced against the wall beside the window. Then he was pulling out, a sharp withdrawal that left you gasping and coughing, one hand pressed to your mouth as your throat convulsed around the absence of him.

The coughing was loud. Too loud. In the quiet of the house, with your stepfather sleeping down the hall, it echoed like a gunshot.

Geto’s hand clamped over your mouth, cutting off the sound mid-cough. His eyes, when they met yours, had a sharpness that hadn’t been there seconds ago.

“Quiet,” he hissed, and the word was urgent. “Do you want him to wake up? Do you want to explain why there’s a priest with his dick out in your living room at midnight?”

You shook your head beneath his hand, eyes wide, and the reality of the situation crashed into you.

Geto held your gaze for a long moment. Then his hand slid away from your mouth, down to your chin, tipping your face up to his with gentleness.

“I know how to be quieter,” he said.

You stared at him. “How?”

A slow smile spread across Geto's face, and it promised absolutely no mercy.

“Come with me,” he said, and his hand found your hair one more time as he pulled you to your feet. “I want to show you something.”

He turned toward the hallway. Toward the back of the house.

Toward your stepfather’s bedroom.

Geto’s hand found the doorknob. Turned it. Pushed.

The door swung open without a sound and the room beyond was dark except for the faint blue glow of a digital alarm clock. 11:47.

Your stepfather was on the bed. On his back. One arm flung above his head, the other at his side. His chest rose and fell in the deep, even rhythm of the chemically unconscious, and his mouth was slightly open\.

“We can’t,” you whispered. You don’t mean it, and Geto knows you don’t mean it, because his hand was already on your back, pushing you forward into the room.

“He can’t hear us,” Geto murmured, his mouth against your ear. “He can’t see us. He’s somewhere else entirely.” His hand slid down to your ass, fingers squeezing with a possessiveness that made your breath catch. “This room. This is where the corruption lives. I can feel it. Can’t you?”

You could feel many things. Corruption was somewhere on the list, probably, you did fuck you stepdad in his room countless times.

Geto didn’t wait for an answer. His hand was on your chest and you went down onto the bed beside your stepfather. The mattress dipped beneath your weight. Your stepfather didn’t stir. His breathing continued, steady and oblivious, and the sound of it made your skin prickle.

Then Geto was on you.

His mouth found yours first, hard and hungry, his tongue pushing past your lips. His hands were everywhere, under your shirt, pushing it up to expose your breasts to the cool air of the bedroom, between your legs, fingers finding you wet and ready, in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat to his teeth.

He bit you. Hard enough to make you gasp, and you pressed your hand over your mouth to muffle the sound, and your other hand, seeking anything to hold onto found your stepfather’s arm.

Your fingers closed around his wrist. The skin was warm. Solid. Unconscious. You held on like it was a lifeline, and maybe it was, because the alternative was to float away entirely into the madness of having a priest between your legs while your stepfather slept six inches to your left.

Geto’s mouth left your throat, traveled down your chest, your stomach, and then he was between your thighs. His hands hooked under your knees, pushing your legs apart until you were spread open to the dark room.

His tongue was flat and wet and relentless, dragging through your folds like he mastered pussy-eating as an art form in a previous life. The piercing bumped against your clit and made your hips jerk off the mattress. You bit down on your own hand to keep from making a sound that would wake the heavily sedated.

Geto hummed against you, the vibration traveled through your body. Your fingers tightened on your stepfather’s arm, and somewhere in the distant, rational part of your brain, a small voice was screaming that this was beyond wrong.

You came anyway. Hard. Your body clamping around nothing, your thighs shaking against Geto’s face, a sob building in your throat that you swallowed just in time, turning it into a muffled whimper that you pressed into the palm of your hand.

Geto didn’t stop. His mouth stayed on you, working you through it, his tongue circling your oversensitive clit with a determination that suggested he was just getting started. By the time the aftershocks had faded to a dull throb, you were already winding up again, slipping back into that haze where the only things that existed were his mouth and your hand on your stepfather’s arm.

Then his mouth was gone, and you felt something warm and wet hit your pussy. His spit, a thick glob of it landed on your clit, then his cock was there, pushing into you. It drove the air from your lungs in a sound you didn’t bother muffling because at this point, frankly, what was the point.

He fucked you hard. Harder than the kitchen, harder than the window, his hips slamming against your ass. Your hand was still on your stepfather’s arm, gripping hard enough that your knuckles ached, and each thrust drove you deeper into the mattress.

His hands were on your hips, lifting, pulling, and you were moving, up, over, your knees straddling your stepfather’s chest, your ass in the air, your face hovering above his unconscious one.

Geto pressed against you from behind, his cock finding its way back inside with ease. It’s like he’s done this before with other girls. The thought flickered then dissolved, because his hands were on your hips, pulling you onto him, and the headboard knocked softly against the wall.

Your hands braced on the mattress on either side of your stepfather’s head. Your face was directly above his, close enough that you could feel his breath on your chin, warm and even and unaware.

It pushed you higher, tighter, a coil winding in your belly that had nowhere to go but out. When it broke, Geto’s cock hit that spot inside you and his hand found your clit and his teeth sank into your shoulder.

Your body locked, hips arching off the bed, back bowing like a drawn bowstring before the first spasm hit. Then the dam gave way all at once, a hot, sudden flood between your legs. The mattress soaked through beneath you, your stepfather’s body catching the first warm spray before you even realized you were cumming. Your body clenched around Geto’s cock, your thighs shook against his hands.

And then, with a suddenness that made you gasp, you felt it. Geto lifted you, full-nelson, aiming your pussy at Toji’s face.

Your squirt hit your stepfather’s face in a fine spray.

The first arc landed across his closed eyelids, his nose, the slack curve of his mouth. The second followed, thicker, hitting his cheek and the pillow beneath his head. The third just pooled between your thighs and dripped slow drops that pattered onto his chest like rain on a statue.

You stared down at what you’d done. Your stepfather’s face, glistening in the dim blue light of the alarm clock, streaked with your squirt. His expression unchanged because unconscious men don’t change expressions, they just lie there and get cummed on by their stepdaughters while priests fuck them from behind. To be honest, you were sure Toji would’ve loved to see this if he was conscious, too.

“Fuck,” Geto breathed behind you. His hips stuttered against your ass, his rhythm becoming something jagged and hungry. “Look at him. Look at what you’re doing to him.”

You were looking. You couldn’t stop looking. “I’m —” you started, but you didn’t finish because Geto’s hand was on your hip, pulling you back onto him.

“Tell me,” Geto said, and his voice was tight, strained, the polished priest cadence crumbling into something raw. “Tell me what you are.”

You knew what he wanted. You’d known since the kitchen, since the window, since the moment his tongue had found your ass against the front door. He wanted the word. The specific, filthy word that turned you from a woman being fucked into a thing being used. The worst part was that you wanted to say it.

“A whore,” you whispered, and the word felt heavy in your mouth. “I’m a whore, Suguru. I’m your —”

He came before you could finish. You felt the hot pulse of him inside you, his cock jerking against your walls, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks that would last for days. He groaned, low and ragged. You felt every throb, every pulse, the warm spread of him filling you till fullness.

Your stepfather breathed beneath you. The clock ticked. Geto’s cock pulsed inside you one final time, and you felt a small, warm trickle escape around the base of him.

Geto pulled out slowly. So slowly you could feel every ridge, every piercing drag against your oversensitive flesh. When the head finally popped free, there was a wet, obscene sound of the warm rush of cum, no longer contained, spilling out of you in a thick stream that landed directly on your stepfather’s face.

It hit his closed eyelids first, then his nose, then pooled in the hollow of his throat before sliding downward, leaving a glistening trail across his skin. More followed. A steady drip from between your thighs, each drop landing with a soft pat that seemed, in the quiet room, impossibly loud.

You stared. Geto stared. Your stepfather continued sleeping.

“Well,” Geto said finally, and his voice was light. “That’s one way to bless a room.”

[nottellingofname]

.✦ ݁˖ 2.1k Celebration .✦ ݁˖

Hi babies!! We officially hit 2.1k and i'm genuinely so grateful for every single one of you 🖤

To celebrate, i'm letting YOU decide what happens in the part 2s for some of my most requested fics. Below are 5 fics with the top part 2 requests!

Stepdad!Toji & his friends - 21 June

Priest!Geto - 26 June

Brahms!Choso - 1 July

Stepcousin!Naoya - 6 July

Mean!Kento - 11 July

Audience Choice! - 16 July

Audience Choice! - 21 July

You have 3 DAYS to vote which fate Y/N deserves for the part 2 hehe

Comment down below which other works deserve a part 2! Looking forward to seeing your suggestions 🤍 (open to any works, not just jjk)

What's Priest!Geto's plans for you?

Visits you at home for a deep exorcism

The altar boy (starts with m, ends with o) knows and wants in

straight up pulls some strings to kidnap you

Voting ended onJun 24

List of part 2s:

Stepdad!Toji & his friends

Priest!Geto

Brahms!Choso

Stepcousin!Naoya

Mean!Kento

Audience Choice!

Audience Choice!

Comment down below if you wanna be tagged in any of the works!

[nottellingofname]

Hi everyone! I gotta postpone this post today 😭

I've been feeling so SICK and I'm still going to work. It'll be out this weekend tho! Trust me (hopefully).

Love y'all!

[nottellingofname]

hey so what if we get introduced to a new set of friends and THEN let sukuna take us 👀

We invited a new set of friends!!! Yay!!! We love having more friends :)

And what if i made this part 3, huh? what are you gonna do abt it ?

[nottellingofname]

.✦ ݁˖ 2.1k Celebration .✦ ݁˖

Hi babies!! We officially hit 2.1k and i'm genuinely so grateful for every single one of you 🖤

To celebrate, i'm letting YOU decide what happens in the part 2s for some of my most requested fics. Below are 5 fics with the top part 2 requests!

Stepdad!Toji & his friends - 21 June

Priest!Geto - 26 June

Brahms!Choso - 1 July

Stepcousin!Naoya - 6 July

Mean!Kento - 11 July

Audience Choice! - 16 July

Audience Choice! - 21 July

You have 3 DAYS to vote which fate Y/N deserves for the part 2 hehe

Comment down below which other works deserve a part 2! Looking forward to seeing your suggestions 🤍 (open to any works, not just jjk)

What's Choso gonna do now?

Choso doesn't like it when you try to leave

Choso makes more rules for your (his) benefit. You break it.

Someone tries to get close to you. Choso sees it all

Voting ended onJun 27

List of part 2s:

Stepdad!Toji & his friends

Priest!Geto

Brahms!Choso

Stepcousin!Naoya

Mean!Kento

Audience Choice!

Audience Choice!

Comment down below if you wanna be tagged in any of the works!

[nottellingofname]

.✦ ݁˖ 2.1k Celebration .✦ ݁˖

Hi babies!! We officially hit 2.1k and i'm genuinely so grateful for every single one of you 🖤

To celebrate, i'm letting YOU decide what happens in the part 2s for some of my most requested fics. Below are 5 fics with the top part 2 requests!

Stepdad!Toji & his friends - 21 June

Priest!Geto - 26 June

Brahms!Choso - 1 July

Stepcousin!Naoya - 6 July

Mean!Kento - 11 July

Audience Choice! - 16 July

Audience Choice! - 21 July

You have 3 DAYS to vote which fate Y/N deserves for the part 2 hehe

Comment down below which other works deserve a part 2! Looking forward to seeing your suggestions 🤍 (open to any works, not just jjk)

What's Priest!Geto's plans for you?

Visits you at home for a deep exorcism

The altar boy (starts with m, ends with o) knows and wants in

straight up pulls some strings to kidnap you

Voting ended onJun 24

List of part 2s:

Stepdad!Toji & his friends

Priest!Geto

Brahms!Choso

Stepcousin!Naoya

Mean!Kento

Audience Choice!

Audience Choice!

Comment down below if you wanna be tagged in any of the works!

[nottellingofname]

i was supposed to post this a few days ago *sobs* so i gotta lock in with this one